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malvo4
August 23rd, 2010, 11:03 PM
I wrote this a few days ago when I was trying to figure out what my heroine wanted and how she had changed. She is part of a story I want to write but I need to get all of the motivations of all the characters sorted out in my head. I still need to get an understanding of her character of when she was younger because showing a such a change is very important in the plot and in her relation to the other characters.

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She is whispering, not to me, just whispering. Or is she yelling, shouting? Crying, wailing? It just sounds like a distant whisper to me, and echo inside my head.

What are you looking for? I ask.

My son, She gasps. I need to be with my son. I need to find him. Her words are frantic and rushed. Each word colliding into the next. Her eyes are rimmed red read raw with emotion: desperation, fear, need.

Where is he?

She opens mouth and then closes it with a new lost expression on her face. She searches out into the unformed distance, I can't see what she sees, but what ever was out there, it didn't have what she was searching for. A sense of realization passes across her face. She and looks down and takes a deep breath.

Away,she sounds as lost as she looks. She looks up at me, I sent him away. Or did he leave me?Her fingers brush over her furrowed brow. Why are my memories muddled? Why can't I-- Or don't I want to remember? She stares at a piece of the ground, in concentration. It wasnt safe to stay together, she murmurs. She looks up with the sudden realization. She shakes her head, But he is still in danger. He is...

Something else dawns on her. But I need to stay away, she trails off quietly. She takes a deep breath, the exhale with more quiver in it that she cared to share, she says it again with more confidence, I need to stay away. Its not safe, yet. But I still need to protect him. I dont want him to be found. Disaster She looks around suddenly as if to leave.

I know these feelings, I know this too well, but there is something else I want to know, something else that she knows, that she has yet to reveal to me.

I ask, Weren't you looking for something else?

She looks puzzled.

Before, before your son. You were searching for something. What was it? Why were you looking for it? For what?

She grimaced. It doesnt matter anymore. She waves her hand as if to brush away the thought like a annoying cobweb.

But why were you searching for it? I press.

Her annoyance crosses her face, as she looks at me pointedly. I thought for a moment that she wouldn't divulge, but then she said, Well, she wet her lips. It started when I was searching for my mother. It started with her, everything, well not everything, but the ending starts with her. Her ambiguity half intrigues me and half annoys me, but she continues, I didnt know why she was so desperate for it. Maybe for resolution, absolution, whatever. But the feeling was contagious, she couldnt see that I was so desperate too. Desperate for her love, approval, care. She left us half the time, just searching. I started searching too, just to feel close to her, apart of her. I followed her, even to the depths of hell if she dared. I don't think she even knew. She never knew what I did for her. How close I was. She gave a bitter smile, This quest, I became envious of it, obsessed to a point. Then I just had to find it, because I needed to know what would make her leave every time when we thought she would finally stay. But then I realized that it wasn't us, me, or even what she was so desperate to find that was the problem. I realized that she wanted to be fixed, that this thing would solve all of her problems, all of her mistakes. I found that she didnt even love herself, how was I to expect her to love anyone else? How could she love us? So what was the point in looking anymore? So I just let go. I needed to for my sanity, safety.

So you didnt find it. You gave up.

She suddenly went still. Her eyes, wide flicked up to mine as she held her breath.

Didnt you?

Her mouth began to form words, and then she paused with a smirk, mulling over her choice in words. Well, she began. To the second statement, yes I gave up. I didn't need to know anymore. To the first... She licked her lips. You might like to think that the truth is inert, objective, cold, and hard. Facts, figures. But no, its alive, pulling and searching, hiding and taunting. It wants to be needed, to be sought. It needs to be this so that it can exist. So, once I stopped searching, it found me. She closed her hands in upturned loose fists. As if it was waiting for me to stop looking to reveal itself, waiting for me to be in the right mindset. It gets in you, you in, and gives you more than you bargained for. I didnt want to know that much. Too much. She shook her head as if to shake away the thoughts like water from her hair. But you cant forget it. A truth, a dangerous thought, a terrible thought. It can spread in you like a virus. It makes you doubt yourself, and everything around you. She leans in whispering, I feel constructed sometimes. As if Im not real. That parts of me were made, and I am more animal than being. As if I am an experiment. And then truth cackles at the sound of your world about to tear apart at the seams.
I lean in to narrow the distance between us, So what is it? I whisper. What is the secret.

She shakes her head, No. No, I can't tell you that. Not yet, maybe never, maybe the truth will find you too. I don't want to say.

So, are you the only one that knows?

She smiled bitterly, I am sure there are others, who know. And for the rest, you will be surprised how many people are close now. So many years ago, such an idea was madness, and the secret protected by the shear absurdity. It was like what that American poet wrote, Poe? The story about that letter they all searched for hidden away in the light and open air. But in this new age, the absurdity of old ideas are now fading away, and now they look new and promising. Now there are many shinny glittering boxes of Pandoras demons. The truth is out there in pieces, and if you know you can see it all converging at one point. When that happens He eyes go out of focus as she trails off.

What will happen?

She blinks slowly, the action shows off her long black eyelashes. How am I supposed to know? She shrugged her shoulders, suddenly playing coy. All I know is that I need to protect my son from it. She looks at me intently filled with particular fervor of a mother set in protecting her young.

Does he know?

She makes a face. Why would I tell him such a thing? But he is close to figuring it out himself, and I cant stop him. I cant identify the look that passes across her face.

Is that why you are afraid for you son? That he will find out the truth?

She tilted her head contemplatively, Partly. Other things are more immediate things, immediate dangerous. Sometimes confining my worries to that of a mother, is what keeps me sane. Is he eating right? Who are his friends? If he is getting enough sleep. Is he ever lonely? Does he avoid strangers? Keeps me from trying to run away from the future. She sighs and looks off into the dark distance. Sometimes I want to run back. I was always running, to my mother, to the truth, then from it. Running. Running, always running. But I cant leave him, and I cant imagine a place where he wouldnt exist.

She looks back at me making strong eye contact. I cant run anymore. She moves to leave. Then before she goes she looks over her shoulder at me, Plus, soon there will be no place to run to. Then she was gone.

defenestrator
August 25th, 2010, 02:35 AM
I think it's a very interesting character study. I love seeing how she comes to life within the conversation and you can see the desires and motivations that will move the story forward.

Developing a character and having them come to life as a fully-realised person and not a puppet whose strings you pull as needed has always been hard for me, so I really enjoyed reading this.

You've definitely got me curious about your story! :)

malvo4
August 25th, 2010, 08:08 AM
Thanks a lot! I am thinking about doing this for all of my characters so I can mold the story around them. I am thinking of doing her son next, but recently her mother is really speaking to me now, and her father is much more prominent than before.

My story (fully realized) will be multi generational. I don't know how I might have to break it up, or the order I should tell the story in. If I should start with the heroine her life up until the present, then her mother, and then having the plot continue from the present forward, also heavily featuring the heroine's sister her "colleague", I don't really want to say love interest since that isn't his focus but she works with him so colleague it is, the heroine's son and her former love interest.

I want to keep a tight lip about the details of it because I don't want the story to automatically be associated and lumped with superficially similar things because I am trying really hard to put a different spin on things. But it does have to do a lot with mythology, perception, conflict (internal, relationship and group). This will be my first time writing complex social situation and beings, since it took me a while to learn (and still learning) to be social.

But thanks defenstrator for commenting, being up on the board for two days with only 19 views and no replies was making me feel sub-par. I just need to know if I am making a complete ass of myself! Haha.

So what do you throw? Out the window I mean.

defenestrator
August 25th, 2010, 10:03 AM
I'd say definitely do the characters that are speaking the loudest first, it's always good to just get it all down on paper when you have a grasp on them!

It sounds like there's a lot of threads going on at once, hopefully you won't find it too challenging to bring them all together at the end - that's what I find spoils many good stories for me.

Ah, I don't think there's anything bad about your piece, I guess it's just harder to comment when it's not a complete story in itself and is more a drabble. I've actually been going through the same problem of developing characters lately, so I quite enjoyed your piece!

Haha, I throw lots of things out the window - my computer is tempting me very much at the moment. :P