playing God...

Finally, Robert was standing across the broken white house, unsure of himself. It had been years. Years of struggle between him and his own demons. It was a long and hard journey; it was his personal auto-da-fe. He looked at the perfectly blue sky above him, thinking of every single mistake he did and how he was finally able to find his way out. It was hard. A titanesque task that he overcame.

All because of her. All because of Anna. His lovely little Anna, the sole source of light in the darkness he was sunk in.

He looked at the teddy bear he was holding. He wondered whether Anna would still remember him. She was only a toddler when he had to left his family. He braced himself and started to cross the empty street.

The door suddenly opened and a little girl walked out. He stopped and for a moment or two, he couldn’t breath. It was his Anna. Everything was muted around him as he smiled. He forgot everything else. It was only Anna, stealing every his every senses.

He smiled. Eventhough when the speeding car hit him. He smiled. Even as his every single bone was crushed. He smiled.

For his Anna.

Tragic? Yes, it is a tragic little piece of story; somebody who finally overcomes every obstacle to become himself, ready to make peace with everything he lost and then boom, a speeding car for the sake of tragedy.

But does he really have to die? Couldn’t he just cross the street safely and hug his daughter? What was my reason to make him a victim instead of a victor?

For the sake of tragedy, a twist, a surprising ending that no one would ever thought, jerking some tears from my readers perhaps. Because tears sell. Happy ending is so overrated. And I’m always comfortable on doing that. Killing a character for the sake of a good story.

And what about Robert? What would be his dying thoughts? One for sure would be his daughter and the other one could probably be “Is it supposed to be this way?” Cursing his creator, maybe (that would be me). Why would I have to kill such a nice person, someone who really is a fighter, doing everything for his daughter and just a moment before he reaches her, dies. He deserves to live. He deserves to at least hug his daughter.

When I started to write, not a long time ago actually, I was ecstatic because I was able to create my own tiny little universe according to my vision. I was playing God. Creating people here and there, problems among them and you know, getting rid of everybody necessary to make the story more, I don’t know, intriguing.

But what if those characters were real people? How would I react when I was faced by the fact that they could exist as well?

It’s a quite interesting point I just found out while watching Stranger than Fiction. It gave me thoughts about writing process. I always thought that writing is about make things interesting. Ok, it’s a bit shallow, but let me elaborate a little.

As I once read in a comic book (geek, I am), we are not living in a small world. It IS a big world, but only with few same stories. All stories are basically the same; that is why you always could guess where a story would go as you read a book. Indeed, there would always be a twist here and there. That is the “interesting” part. To make an interesting story, you use every tool available whether it’s the context, the twist or the perspective.

War and Peace is only a story about a woman who loves a man but has to marry another.

But Tolstoy put a dramatic situation, a war nonetheless, and crafted his story with such beauty that he could make a very simple subject to become one of the greatest love story in history.

But now, since you are the writer and the designated God in your universe, don’t you think that your characters deserves better than to be pawns for the sake of having a tragedy (it could extend to comedy, satire or whatever, actually)?

I am currently rethinking my writing process nowadays. I mean, my characters should have something to say. I would have to see them as real people, not merely my puppets.

Because I have the same amount of responsibility toward them as well as my, well, readers.

When we decide to play God, I think we should be a responsible one.

Otherwise, it might not mean anything in the end.