Welcome to Gaia! ::

I wrote this story for my creative writing class. When I heard about the Walter Spara Writing Contest, which is held anually at the community college I was attending, I decided to enter it just to see what would happen; figured I had nothing to lose, but lots to gain (like, $200). I had no idea I was going to win. Actually, I almost told the person who called me to inform me that I had won that he was full of crap.
Anyways, here is the story. It was inspired by the connection some authors have with their characters, and just how far that connection can go.

Kill Your Darlings

It was a story he had seen a million times before. The protagonist suffers a miserable life, battling the world and herself. Finally, sometime near the end of the story, she stumbles upon a miracle, finds redemption, and then lives happily ever after.

That's not how this story was to end. He had decided in the beginning that the protagonist would suffer her fate to the bitter end. She would learn the lessons that her life provided, but it would be too late. It would ultimately be a miserable ending.

No, there had to be another way.

Brad reviewed the story he had written so far. It was a tragic tale which offered little hope for salvation, and that's the way he had wanted it. His protagonist, Rebecca, had suffered much under his guidance. But now, so close to completing his work, Brad began to regret what he had done to poor Rebecca.

Unfortunately, Brad had to kill her. He hadn't left any room for her salvation, and to give it to her would mean he would have to rewrite his story. Of course, he could provide that miracle often found in Hollywood films, but he refused to offer her that lifeline.

So he couldn't bring himself to kill her, but he couldn't bring himself to save her either. He had worked himself into a fine corner.

Trying to distract his thoughts, he moved to his art desk and began working on a new sketch. It would be the hundredth sketch of Rebecca he had done in the past year. They were mostly highly detailed and complicated, depicting his favorite scenes from his story, but sometimes, when he simply wanted to escape into his thoughts, he would work on something simple, something requiring little thought. But they were all sad.

Working on his sketch, he knew why he couldn't bring himself to kill her: she was his creation, and though he created her to suffer, he wanted her to be happy. Throughout his story, he often added little moments in order to comfort her, to make her happy. Then he felt like a jerk when he had to turn around and take that peace from her. But, despite her troubles, she always persisted. She was full of hope, and Brad admired her courage as he led her deeper into the plot formulated in order to tear her down.

So that was it. He had created this character, gave her nothing but grief, but constantly led her on towards a hope she would never find. For what purpose? For the sake of his story? Why did it have to be this way? He tried to draw a smile on Rebecca’s face, but despite his effort, she insisted on wearing a frown.

“She deserves to be happy...” He worked very carefully, exerting more mental energy in making everything perfect than he originally planned. He thought that maybe if she wore something more elegant, even extravagantly beautiful, he could get her to smile. Removing her sword and worn leather tunic, he placed her in a royal gown. He was even generous in how he developed her body. There...from a poor peasant girl to a princess. Brad took a moment to admire his work. He fancied himself to be quite the artist and was very pleased with her royal garb.

But even then, all she could manage was a weak smile, as if just to show gratitude for his service.

It drove Brad mad. Why did he even care so much? She was a work of fiction he had created...Why this emotional attachment?

Resting his forehead against his hands, he pondered the problem he had run himself into. He had created a character that he sympathized with and couldn’t bring himself to finish what he started.

Before he had time to think too hard, his girlfriend, Sonja, marched into the room triumphantly after successfully completing another productive day and announced her presence to her otherwise not triumphant and unproductive boyfriend. “Hello, Honey!” she cheerfully greeted him, bounding across the room and throwing her arms around him from behind, planting a kiss on his cheek.

He smiled weakly in return, grateful for the distraction but at the same time slightly irritated. He took her hand in his and uneasily stammered. “Hello...”

Quickly diverting her attention to his work, she looked over the sketch he had been working on. “Hey, that’s really nice.” She released him from her grip then picked up the drawing to study it further. Recognizing who it was, her smile softened. “Oh, is this that character from that story you’ve been writing?”

Brad nodded in response.

“She’s beautiful, Brad. Unlike your other drawings...” She paused to consider that statement. “No, she was always beautiful, but she either looked angry or sad.” She tilted her head to ponder the picture further. “Actually, she doesn’t look happy in this drawing either...Not completely, at least.”

Brad shrugged, attempting to appear as if he didn’t mind, but hearing it from her hurt. “I tried to get her to smile...Perhaps I just need to work on drawing smiles.”

Giggling, Sonja patted Brad on the shoulder. “Silly...It’s not hard.” She laid the drawing on the desk and erased the face. Sonja was an artist, and therefore knew exactly what she was doing. She even wished to redraw the entire image. Something about the generous proportions of her body... “Really, to not to be able to draw a person smiling...” she set herself to giving Brad a lesson in facial expressions while redrawing the face, then looked down at it with concern. “Hmm...She still looks sad.” She laughed and looked over her shoulder to Brad. “What have done to the poor girl?”

Brad’s heart sank.

“Oh! How is the story coming along, anyways? You should be nearing completion, right?”
Brad flushed and tried to look away. “Well, really...I don’t think I can finish it...”

Sonja was disappointed by the answer and tried to sympathize with him. “I’m sorry. What’s wrong with it? Is there a flaw somewhere?”

How to answer a question like this? “Well, no...There is no flaw in the story, really.”

The concern was evident on Sonja’s face, and she tried to look deep into him, as if she could find the answer that way. “No? You never did let me read it. Maybe I could help you?”

His reply came quickly. “No! I mean...I’d rather you not.”

She sat back into her chair and crossed her arms. “Then finish it. I’ve been waiting a long time for you to write this story, and if you aren’t going to, then I would like to review what you’ve been playing with all this time.”

He sighed, sunk his head low. “I can’t bring myself to finish it.”

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Rebecca has to die...There’s no other way to end the story.”

Silence. She was waiting for him to finish, then realizing that was all, she felt even more confused. “And...?”

Brad blushed and looked towards the floor. “And that is all.”

Sonja stared at him long and hard. Was that all? There had to be more. “Brad, if you feel that you are entertaining morbid ideas, and that upsets you, don’t worry about it. You’ve discussed the details of the story with me, and I really think you’re onto something with the idea. It sounds like a great story. Yes, it is sad, but it’s for a reason, right? Wasn‘t your intention to portray a fact of life in a different perspective?”

“Well, yeah, but...”

“And you’ve taken a very creative approach. Don’t feel evil in doing so.” She smiled and tried to find his eyes. “Does that make you feel better?”

He tried to return a smile, but failed. He just barely had the strength to look her in the eyes. “I suppose. But she...Rebecca doesn’t deserve it.”

Sonja frowned. “Isn’t that the point? If she deserved it, wouldn’t it lose its affect?”

Brad just looked back down at the floor, not realizing how absurd he must sound. “I can’t do it to her.”

Frustration was now apparent in her voice. “Brad, you often relish in such morbid stories. You take delight in the dark analogies of people’s suffering. Such stories never bothered you before. Why can’t you do it now?”

Before he could counter, she interrupted him - which was probably just as well; he didn’t have much of a defense anyways. “You never did finish anything. You would always begin something, and then stop short of completing it. And you’re doing that now, aren’t you?”

Again, Brad tried to defend himself, but was cut short. “Do you remember what our deal was?” She began again before he could answer. “I was going to work to get us by, and you were going to use the time I gave you to write your story. You don’t have even a part time job. You’ve been able to devote all your time to that story. Even more than to me.” Her frustration became mixed with anger and hurt. “So you had damned better finish that story!” She looked furiously around the room, at the many manuscripts lying on the desks. The drawings on the wall...All of them of Rebecca. “It’s like you love her more than you do me.”

Brad lifted his head. Not looking at her. At nothing, really. He had realized something that he hadn’t realized, and it shocked him.

Sonja looked over at Brad and mistook his look of shock for hurt. Her anger quickly diminished as she realized the accusation she had made and she pitied him. “I’m sorry...Perhaps I didn’t look at things from your perspective. I remember you once said that creating characters and writing stories is like playing God. You form them, breathe life into them, and then make them reality in your writing.” She looked then to the drawings of Rebecca. “I guess she is very much real to you, isn’t she? Then it would be hard to kill your own creation.” Smiling at her understanding, she stood and kissed Brad on the forehead. “Forgive me my rashness.” With that, she left the room and Brad to his thoughts.

Brad didn't notice much of what all she said. After she left, he grabbed his manuscripts and rummaged through the pages, reading over certain events.

Satisfied with his findings, he threw himself back in laughter. How did he not realize it before? Everything about Rebecca...her courage, her hope, her strength...She was everything he lacked. As much as he loved Sonja, her superiority over him left him feeling weak and powerless, and she wasn't very good at encouraging him. He clung to her, because she did make him feel safe, but she wasn't what he longed for. She didn't complete him.

There, on the pages of his story, he had created his significant other. And he was killing her.

This all came to Brad as being very amusing. He began to wonder how absurd it would sound to Sonja, and that sobered him up. What about Sonja? Though he may not feel quite so about her, and though he may not even understand why, she did love him dearly. He quickly rethought everything that had occurred earlier. Was he a fool for feeling as he did toward his character?

...creating characters and writing stories is like playing God. You form them, breathe life into them, and then make them reality in your writing.

Quickly retracing the sketch of Rebecca’s outline with his fingers, he pondered his predicament. At last, he smiled weakly down at the drawing and laughed. “You may complete me, 'love', but Sonja is all I have other than you, and I am greatly in her debt. I am afraid you will have to die this time. Please forgive me of the suffering I will bestow upon you. But I promise...” he erased her face and began to redraw it. “...you will die a martyr, a hero in your fictional world and in my real world. Then...you will live happily in a second ‘life.' ”

This time, she returned his smile with all the love that he had poured into drawing it.

I doubt truer words have ever been spoken about a writer's relationship to their characters. As hard as we try to fight against it, we create for ourselves in our writing an escape from the day to day grinde, a place where we can find those things that we lack, and justice as we view it prevails. Wonderfully written!

I suppose the only difference between me and your writer character is that I know I love all of my characters. 3nodding I create them and form them so that the reader will love them, and in turn, I start feeling the same way. I know it sucks to have a good character die, and it will happen occasionally, but then, it has to, or the books will never really satisfy all of our emotions, really.

The only exception to that is when you create a character who nobody is supposed to like, and you also need to make them occasionally or the story will be boring.

This story.. I like it. It draws you in. The characters you created, are so filled with life. It's much better than anything I've been able to do.
And I like the comprmise that you stuck in the end. It doesn't make you feel over whleming happiness, and doesn't make you fell morbid, wholowing in cold blood, but it satisfies the reader. I can see why you won the contest.

I feel the saaaaaaame way.

See, there's my story, right? And I am so frickin' mean to my characters. Especially, one. The main girl, you know. It's not cause she's a girl, or anything, it's cause she's her...she's the brave one, the strong one. I'm so evil to her, I make everything seem like her fault, I take away everything she has at some point or other, and I even almost killed her once...

I've decided that she hates me. And honestly, I can't blame her.

Everything bad happens to her...she gets poisoned, stabbed, captured, knocked out, blamed for everything.

And yet she's the most cheerful gods-damned person in the whole freaking book.

How does THAT work?

I'm such a sadist.

No, a masochist. Because she's based off of me.

I didn't care much for Sonja. She seemed to be a bit overly emotional. First she was ecstatic, then pissed, then apologetic. In..what? The course of three minutes?

Though- with a one-scene story like this, it's bound to happen. Over all I adore your work. Kudos.

I just noticed that typo as well.

This is an unbelievably beautiful story. I love that it's a story for writers. It really touched me because I've been unable to finish my own stories for over a year now because I have to kill off characters that are just as close to my heart. So thank you for this little piece of beauty, you definitely deserved to win! I just love how well you express the way that writers' often feel about their "characters" without having to spell it out. You did a very good job with this!