When Good Characters Go Bad (aka Character Backlash - Part Trois)

Alrighty, here is the second part of my story, continued from Tuesday's post. Before we get into it though, I just wanted to point out a few things as I think there might have been some confusion.

So in Monday's post, I mentioned that I was having some trouble with my MC's in my current MS - this story I am posting here is a little exercise that I did over the weekend as my way of getting reacquainted with them - only I found that they had changed and I no longer recognized them. They are upset with me because I abandoned them and haven't been writing for a while. The narrator in the story is me interacting with my characters :) I hope that clears things up a little and provides some more background--I'm sorry if it was too ambiguous.

What Happened - Part 2

“Wait!” I scream it, my words slicing through the thick air with little effect, like a dull knife.

The street lamps above my head are flickering, and frantically, plunging forward as though I am caught in a kaleidoscope of incomplete dreams, I dash after them.

“Wait! Don’t go!”

Please.

I run and run, until I am out of breath, and my side is cramping. I cannot catch up with them. I stumble, unable to keep moving. I have to face the truth.

I can no longer see them. The lights go out, and I am hurled into a dismal abyss. What am I to do now?

I stifle a scream when I feel the hand on my shoulder.

“We’re still here,” she says calmly. I hear a grunt of disapproval from her left.

I grasp her fingers blindly. “You came back!”

“Yes,” she responds. “I want to give you another chance. You deserve another chance. He has agreed.”

“She doesn’t deserve it—she’s being honored with it.”

I nearly sob with relief. “Thank you! I promise this time—”

“No,” she cuts me off. “What you must understand is that things are different. Nothing can be the same. A lot of time has passed.”

“I understand...” But really, I don’t.

“We won’t wait around again,” he adds, his tone hollow. “We can’t do it again.”

“Take your time,” she adds, her own voice gentler, “but don’t leave. Don’t give up on us. You need to believe. Promise me.”

“I promise,” I swear fervently, desperately. I need them. They need me.

“Then open your eyes and begin again,” the lights are flickering once more.

“What’s happening?” I feel like I’m yelling, but the words are barely a whisper.

They are circling me, closing in and pushing through the brick wall that surrounds me, interjecting themselves into my mind, leaving their imprint.

I exhale and slowly open my eyes, finally able to see…

The End

And on that note - my characters and I are back on agreed terms - I can't say good, because I'm not sure they are as yet. It's almost as if I need to reestablish their trust. They will let me write about them, but I need to commit to it and to them, something I have resolved to do. On the other hand, I do feel like I've awoken from a bad dream.

This was an interesting exercise - I've never done something quite like this, but I found it was very useful.

What about you? Have you ever tried such a writing exercise? What sort of things do you do when your characters start acting up?

When Good Characters Go Bad (aka Character Backlash - Part Deux)

Alrighty, as promised, here is a look into the crazy inner workings of my mind. Even as I write this, I'm wondering what I'm getting myself into. I never actually meant for anyone to read this - but as they say, we all have to start somewhere. It's very rough... so please excuse any glaring errors.

Oh, and there are no names included just because at this point, I sort of feel like I don't know them *sobs* :)

What Happened - Part 1

It’s cold. It’s never been this cold before. It’s never sounded this quiet or been this empty. I’m all alone. For the first time in months, I am irrevocably alone. I refuse to accept it and search in vain for a sign, anything, something to show me that I haven’t lost it all. I almost miss him when my eyes finally light upon his figure. Night has fallen, and long shadows are cast along his face, ­partially hiding it from me.

In this light, he looks more dangerous than usual, but less fiery than I remember him. It feels as though time has robbed him of his very essence, everything that he once was. His previously solid frame now appears thin and vacant, the locks of his hair too long, reaching past his bony shoulders and blending in with the darkness surrounding him. The stark contrast gives his face an eerie glow, luminescent, yet suspicious, wary of my sudden return.

“Where have you been?” His voice is gravelly, as though he hasn’t used it for a while.

He shifts, his movement almost imperceptible, coming slightly out of the gloom. I take a hesitant step back – even though I’ve been waiting for this moment, longing to see him again. He’s angry. I can see it in his fierce gray eyes as they rove over, and finally settle on my face, icy and distant. The harsh planes of his profile are no longer familiar. I swallow hard.

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammer, knowing it excuses nothing. “It’s just that...” I trail off, not sure of exactly what to say.

“You started this whole thing, and then you just abandon us?” His tone teeters between incredulous and seething.

He won’t look at me any longer. His eyes have moved to the far right, staring at something over my shoulder, something I can’t see, and can’t even begin to relate to. He looks older, robbed of his youth, having been left to wait for something that never came.

“I didn’t mean to!” I protest, desperate for him to understand. I never meant for this to happen. But I had been wrong to leave things the way they were.

He doesn’t respond.

“Honestly,” I reach out to touch him, but he stiffens, and my hand falls limply at my side. “Please believe me.”

“Why.” He sounds broken now, more emotion in that single word than he has ever shown before.

He glares at me defiantly when I don’t answer, suddenly composing himself. “Why should I believe you? You’ve stopped believing in us, haven’t you?”

I feel like crying. I’m too ashamed to speak, even though he’s got it all wrong. I didn’t stop believing in them, I stopped believing in me.

“She needs another chance.”

I jump at the sound of her voice.

Squinting, I see her materialize out of the shadows behind him. Her face is drawn and pale, her dark hair in tangles, and the bluish tint that rims the bottom of her eyes make her look as though she hasn’t slept in months. He reaches behind him to take her hand. She squeezes his and I realize with a start that they have turned to each other for solace. These two, who cannot stand each other’s company, together.

My heart is breaking. How could I have done this? What was I thinking?

“We’re leaving,” he says firmly.

“No,” she responds softly. She touches his face lightly, soothing him, before turning to me. “I’m sure you had a good reason.” She takes a step closer, her eyes pleading.

But I don’t. I have no feasible reason at all. But I don’t say it. How can I admit to it?

We’re the same height though and I can’t look away. She reads the answer on my face.

“See,” he growls roughly from behind, having already come to the same conclusion on his own, “I told you. Let’s get out of here.”

The small speckle of hope vanishes from her face, making the last remaining light in her eyes dim, and she makes no effort to conceal her disappointment in me.

He’s pulling her now. Pulling her in the opposite direction, away from me, away from the three of us and the good thing we shared. He’s always been too headstrong.

I cringe. Why did I make him that way?

They’re disappearing right before my eyes, fading into the night that gobbles them up greedily. Soon they will be gone, and there will be no more.

What do I do? What can I say? How can I make this right? Too much time has passed. Still though, I must try...

To be continued... on Thursday! Thanks for reading :)