Tears at the Table

Those of you who know me personally know that I am a sentimental person. I cry easily about all sorts of things- people being sick, babies being born, kittens being adopted, happy news, sad news...BAM! Tears flow.

Well, I also cry when writing sad things. I can read one of my books a dozen times and still cry on cue in the places I previously cried.

I started a novel once based on the holiday story Christmas Bells but had to stop near the end because the only natural ending would have been for the female lead and the male lead to drug her little sister and themselves then drive into the lake and drown. I couldn't write that ending, so the characters are still alive and in limbo and that novel will most likely undergo a major overhaul at some later date, or else remain unfinished and gathering dust in its binder.

I started writing The Worth of a Woman months ago, after I had a dream. It is not my usual type of story. It is not happy. There's slim humor in it, if any. It contains no ghosts, no supernatural or paranormal elements, no magic, no magical beings, no vampires, witches, talking cats, no holiday cheer. It's brutal, raw, explicit and wrenching. It is set in a future time, maybe not all that distant- a few generations only. The country is fractured, chaotic, ruled by misogynistic men who treat women like sex toys and slaves. The female lead is just fifteen years old when her father takes her to auction. Rumor is a wealthy, cruel man who collects pretty young girls for sport is going to bid on her. Her future is bleak and dismal no matter who wins her. A surprise bidder appears, then abruptly changes the course of her life. But, like all men, he uses and abuses females for his own pleasure and purposes. But Jade has a contrary nature her father lied about. she's resistant, rebellious, vocal and rubs her master the wrong way repeatedly. In less than three years time, a lot happens to her. Most of it is not pleasant to read. Yet...she has an effect on Archer and he begins to understand that she has value. She has worth and is as more than just a body he can satisfy his sexual needs by using. She has traits he has never witnessed in any other female.

Well, I started finishing this novel this past weekend. I was up late last night writing and realized that the natural end was in sight. I went to bed and slept well. This morning I got up, made my lunch, sat down to eat my breakfast and continued the story...only to realize that I had to allow a character to die to make this book effective. Talk about waterworks! I did not expect to be killing off a main character as I ate my Eggo waffles this morning. It hit me hard, and bordered on a panic attack. It was like losing control of the direction the story was headed in, but also knowing that there was no other direction for it to take. I cried as I finished getting ready for work. Cried during the ten minute drive to work, and cried when I got to work. My co-workers, thank God, are used to me, but even they thought I meant a real person had died this morning when I said, "I killed someone this morning!" My best friend was still confused mid-morning, not quite understanding what I had been babbling tearfully about at 8AM. At noontime we were able to laugh about my "being a killer," and whacking a character. They made me feel better, but inside me there is still this quivering panicky feeling about allowing a main character to die. Her death is the result of sexual violence committed against her, made worse because of her bravery and caring nature, her selfless acts as her life spirals downward.

I still have the cleanup and the tweaking of the ending to do, but right now, I can't touch it. My emotions are still too raw tonight. They say ones best writing comes when you step outside your comfort zone and just write raw without restraint and all the filters we put up to make things nice. Some filters were still there...it could have been even more graphic and raw, but...it is what it is.

Now I just need to make myself read through it all again so I can see how it all works together. Hopefully it won't set off anymore crying jags. Tears at the table are really rather unnerving- I don't like feeling like a killer. I guess I am sentimental and soft, not bad traits t have, but sometimes it can be eye opening to write outside the box.