RAPE-Serialized version

 

Hi Everyone:

As each new chapter is published on this blog, the previous chapter(s) should be archived below, so even if you did not read it when it first appeared, you can easily catch up. Your suggestions are appreciated and will receive careful consideration.

 

RAPE

By

Josh Truxton

9885-A Watermill Circle,

Boynton Beach FL 33437

jjtrus@att.net

 

 

 

©

Copyright 2012

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 

It is a pleasure to acknowledge my appreciation for the encouragement given me by my wife and first reader, Danielle, and

the constructive criticism of the associates at my literary group, The Writer’s Studio. 

 

CHAPTER 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

            Erica Rogers smoothed a lock of long black hair into place and strode toward the glass-door leading to her boss’s office.

            Gary Sanders glanced up, smiled at the stunning, young woman, and waived her into the office.

She frowned at him; “Have you been racing that damned Maserati again?”

“No. One reckless driving charge is enough. Why?”

“There are a couple of men from the Palm Beach Police Department asking to see you.”

“Well, show them in. Maybe they want to sell me tickets to the Policemen’s Ball.”

Gary checked the time on his Rolex, 11:05, and tilted his chair back as the two men, dressed in the tan uniforms of the local department stepped into his office and introduced themselves, and then Officer Hall, the taller of the two said; “Mr. Sanders our chief wants to talk with you. Please come with us to police headquarters.”

Gary jerked his head back, his square chin jutted forward and lines appeared above his deep-set brown eyes. “Okay, but what’s this all about?”

“We understand that yesterday you called on Miriam West, sir. Is that true?”

“Yes. But I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

“We’re just following orders, sir. Our Chief wants to see you. Ms. West claims you assaulted and raped her.”

Gary jumped to his feet, “Is this some kind of a joke? You’re kidding, right?”

Officer Hall shook his head and without the slightest sign of a smile said, “I’m afraid not.”

Gary frowned: “Bu—but this must be a mistake.”

Hall shrugged, then let his right hand rest on his weapon; “All I know is what I’ve already told you. The woman has filed charges and my Chief sent us to drive you to headquarters.”

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming,” Gary said. “The sooner we get there, the sooner I can straighten this out and get back to work.

“Erica,” he called. “I’m going with these officers. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She stood in the middle of the large, outer office, her eyes narrowed to slits and her forehead furrowed, “Do you have your cell phone with you?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you.”

 

 

            Settling into the back of the squad car, on the corner of Coconut Row and Royal Poinciana, Gary looked up at his second story office with its tasteful sign proclaiming Sanders Insurance Agency and wondered how this could be happening to him. Only this morning he had been swimming laps in the pool outside his five-bedroom two- story Palm Beach home on Sandpiper Drive. He recalled how his wife Carol had stood at the end of the pool with terrycloth robe in hand. He had scooped her up in his arms and despite her protests had jumped into four feet of water.

With the kids already in school, that had led to a lot of fooling around that made him happy but late getting to the office; and now this! He heaved a heavy sigh thinking, is this what I get for catering to the wishes of  Julia Walsh, Empress of Palm Beach Society, and her spoiled niece, movie star Miriam West?

 “It’s not so bad, Mr. Sanders,” Hall’s partner said, “at least you’re not under arrest. The chief just wants to talk with you. You know, get your side of the story.”

Dammed!  Gary thought, I don’t have my attorney’s phone number on my cell phone. Wonder if I should call Erica and have her get it for me. Nah! I can call information if I need him. What a mess. How in hell did this thing happen?

Ten minutes later, they reached Palm Beach’s Town Hall and Police Headquarters located in a stylish Mizner designed building sitting between the north and southbound lanes of South County Road.

A cluster of men and women blocked their path. One thrust a microphone on a long boom toward him. They shouted out so many questions that he couldn’t decide which to answer. He heard one reporter say, “That’s Gary Sanders, the big insurance guy.”

The two officers rushed him past the clique of reporters, but not before several flash bulbs went off blinding him. Before he had a chance to catch his breath or survey his surroundings he found himself in a small room with only a table and a few chairs. Officer Hall pointed to one of the chairs; “Have a seat Mr. Sanders. Chief Moore will be with you shortly.”

Gary glanced at his watch. It showed fifteen minutes before noon. He wondered; is the chief going see me before going to lunch? The idea of sitting on a wooden chair while the Chief filled his face didn’t appeal to him. He’d viewed crime shows on television; understood the police tactic of making suspects sweat. He wondered if they had locked the door to the room, or if he was free to get up and walk around. If he didn’t stay seated, did that make him look guilty—guilty of what?

Officer Hall had said that Miriam West claimed he had assaulted and raped her. What proof did she have? For that matter, what proof did he have that he hadn’t? Samuel had seen him go in, but he wasn’t around when he left. Now that he thought about it, other than the butler and Miriam, he hadn’t seen anyone. That’s bad he decided, not a single witness to say I’m innocent. He made up his mind not to get out of the uncomfortable chair no matter how many lunches the chief consumed before seeing him. He glanced at his watch again. Only five minutes had elapsed, it seemed he had been here much longer.

 He thought about Chief Moore; he had met him once before; when the man had come to a meeting of the Young Republicans, he had impressed him as a fair and honest official trying to do a tough job in a super-rich community. He doubted the man remembered him.

Gary flinched inwardly as the door opened a few inches. The man on the other side said something he couldn’t make out, to someone else and then pushed the door open and stepped inside. Closing it behind him, the thickly built Moore turned and gave Gary a fleeting smile. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Sanders. I’m sorry it has to be over such a serious matter.”

Gary offered his hand not expecting the Chief to take it. “Me too,” he said in a voice that strained to get out of his tightened throat.

“Can I get you something to drink, water or a Coke?”

He silently cursed himself for having to clear his throat; “No, thank you, I’m fine. Your officers told me that Ms. West has charged me with rape and assault. What can I do to clear myself?”

The Chief ran a hand over the few strands of gray hair that crossed his head, moved a file folder to one side, and placed a small tape recorder on the table. “Tell me about your visit yesterday to Julia Walsh’s house on El Mirasol. Why were you there and what happened during your visit?”

Gary licked his dry lips and told the man all of the details he recalled. When he finished the Chief asked, “Are you sure that you didn’t see anyone else during the time that you were there?”

“No sir. I sure wish that I had.”

“And what time was it when you left?”

“About two-thirty, I think.”

Chief Moore turned off the tape recorder and asked Gary to remove his shirt.

Gary stood and unbuttoning it, allowed the man to see his arms and chest.

“How did you get those scratches on your shoulders? They look fairly recent.”

“I grabbed my wife and jumped in the pool this morning. Just fooling around, you understand. Later when we made love, she scratched me, either in the heat of the moment, or as payback for getting her wet. You can ask her.”

“Don’t worry, I will. They look suspicious. We’ll want to get a photo of that before you leave.”

When the Chief twirled his index finger, he turned to give him a view of his back. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the officer’s slight shrug, so he turned around. “Chief, are there any signs of an attack on Ms. West?”

The Chief pulled a color photo from the file folder and placed it on the table. Gary leaned forward and stared at the face of the actress. Disbelief registered on his face as he stared at the cuts beside her left eye and the purplish bruise nearby. “I didn’t do it. I swear—I never laid a hand on her.” He pushed the photo back across the table.

“Well,” the Chief said in a sad voice, “someone did, and as of now, you’re the only one she’s named.  We’re looking into the allegations. I know about your reckless driving charge and I checked with the Youngstown police. You had a charge as a juvenile, but the record is sealed. Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Not much to tell, I was about twelve at the time. A bunch of us went into a sporting goods store. One of the guys stole a soft ball. Everyone ran; I was the last one out the door. I didn’t have the ball but I got caught.”

The chief grinned. “So you kind of took one for the team.”

“Yeah, I guess so. What about this rape charge? Aren’t there tests you can do?”

“Yeah, we’re trying. I’ll need to get a DNA sample. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure; whatever you need. Am I under arrest?”

Chief Moore shook his head. “Not at this time, but don’t leave town until this is settled.”

Out in the hallway he found Officer Hall who advised him that he’d drive him back to his office. Gary looked at his watch; it was quarter ‘til one. Well that didn’t take long, he thought. Then he reminded himself that nothing had been resolved. The huge sword held over him remained. It’s a long way from over. My God, how am I going to explain this to Carol? Accompanying the officer, he slipped out the back door and took his place in the front passenger’s seat. Within seconds, they were on their way.

 

 

Back at Police Headquarters, Miguel Gonzales, the Palm Beach Dispatch’s crime reporter, shoved his microphone close to the doorway that Chief Harrison Moore nearly filled. He felt well prepared; his source was close to Julia Walsh.

“Is it true that the actress Miriam West was raped?”

A murmur went through the crowd of reporters and photographers standing in semi-circle around the doorway.

           The Chief shook his head, “That has yet to be established. I can say that she appears to have been assaulted and the attack took place yesterday afternoon about the time that Mr. Gary Sanders of the Sanders Insurance Agency called on her.”

“Are you holding Sanders?”

“No. Not at this time.”

“Chief, is Mr. Sanders the chief suspect in this case?”

“I didn’t say he is a suspect.”

“Then what role did he play in the attack on Ms. West?”

“At this time, I’d say that Mr. Sanders is a person of interest.” With that the Chief

backed up through the open door, closed, and locked it.

The gaggle of reporters began to disperse. Miguel hurried to his car. Once inside, he pulled out his cell and called Vincent Bernardino, his editor at the Dispatch. When he finished telling him what he knew, Bernardino said, “That’s good Miguel, now here’s what I need you to do. Get background material on this guy Sanders. I want you to dig and I mean deep. I’m pretty sure I know what tomorrow’s headline is going to be and I’m going to need all the info you can find on Sanders.”

“Sure Vince, but just between us, how do you think the headline will read?”

“Miguel, on page one, right above your byline, in big print, it’ll say: PROMINENT BUSINESSMAN QUESTIONED IN RAPE CASE. I sure hope we got a good picture of this guy.”

            Miguel Gonzales smiled and let his breath out. “Yeah, Boss, I think we did.”

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If you like the way I write, you may also enjoy one of my electronically published novels. You will find a brief description of them on my website: joshswritingroom.com

You will also find a selected short story for your reading enjoyment joshswritingroom.comjoshswritingroom.com

 

joshtruxton.blogspot.com

ITALICS

 

 

Hi Everyone:

Sometimes, I’m a little slow on the trigger. Maybe it’s the era we live in, or maybe it’s a sign of old age. When asked about getting old, I used to say that old age was your own age plus ten, but who knows, maybe it is arriving sooner than I anticipated.

Last week, while attending a meeting of my literary group, The Writer’s Studio, one of our members, whose novel is currently being edited for publication, indicated that in reviewing the edited version, he decided to put all of the internal thoughts of his characters in italics to differentiate them from the dialogue.

I admit it took me by surprise. I thought it odd and wanted to say something like; “That is why we have quotation marks, they designate when a character is speaking.  If the reader doesn’t see those little quote marks, he/she knows that the comments are internal thoughts,” instead, I remained silent.

Upon returning home, I began a search for the use of italicized print. I grabbed my bible, Strunk and White’s text, The Elements of Style. While these masters of grammar and usage postulate eleven rules for grammar, and an equal number for composition, I found only one reference pertaining to italics. It was for their use with the title of a literary work. I also found one exception, (when the title follows a possessive, i.e., Strunk and White’s Elements of Style). I was disappointed, but undeterred. The search continued.

My reference shelf holds a number of books. One of my favorites is a slim volume, The Elements of Grammar  by Margaret Shertzer. While she lists fifteen rules for italic usage, only the first seemed to apply:

Italics are often used to give emphasis to words or expressions. They

should be used only for strong emphasis, never indiscriminately. . . .”

I thought this was a sign I was correct, but far from definitive, so I plowed on. I checked my copy of The New York Times’s Manual of Style and Usage, which also indicates that news copy uses italics most sparingly while their Magazine and Book Review sections use italics for indisputably foreign words.

Not satisfied, I tried one more source, A Manual of Style prepared by the U.S. Government Printing Office. At last, I had reached the ultimate source; I had found Nirvana. It consisted of two and a half pages of small type (any smaller and it would require use of a magnifying glass). Section 11. Italics contained 15 sub-sections, but only 11.1 dealt with my concern, it reads:

          Italic is sometimes used to differentiate or to give greater

prominence to words, phrases, etc. However, an excessive

amount of italic defeats this purpose and its use in general

work should be restricted as indicated.

 

Perhaps, I thought, my friend’s characters don’t spend much time in thought, or only have brief thoughts, which might be all right after all, but I wonder what his editor will say.

I’d really like to know because I recently sent one of my novels, Alex—Peanut Butter—And Me to a professional editor and it contains some telepathic communication to the main character, Will, from his dead grandmother. Since the messages weren’t spoken and were not Will’s thoughts per se, I chose to use italics. If both editors pan italic utilization, I guess I have a decision to make.

* * *

While Alex—Peanut Butter—And Me is not yet available to the public, you can find three of my novels that are:

The Eindhoven Strategy, a World War II tale of American OSS espionage, Nazi counter espionage, and wartime romance set in the suspense filled days leading up to the Allied invasion of Normandy.

Palm Beach Style, introduces readers to Dugan a Special Agent with the Florida Department of Law Enforcement as he takes on kidnappers, and then an armored truck heist masterminded by his spoiled girlfriend and her father, the legendary, Lucky whom readers met in The Eindhoven Strategy.

Path to a Pardon: is a story of mystery and suspense; of love and betrayal; of diamonds stolen and lost. Three young adults face challenges that forever change them in this story set against the drama of the courtroom and political battles.

You can read more about these novels at my website: joshswritingroom.com

Don’t forget to check out the Short Story tab for another one of my vignettes. This one is called: Height Challenged.

* * *

 

Coming Soon to this site:  Chapter 1 of my recent novel, RAPE.  You won’t want to miss the opening chapter. The entire novel will unfold right here for all to read and critique; and it is FREE.

 

 

A THICK SKIN

 

 

Hi Everyone:

I don’t think of myself as an insensitive boob, at least, I hope I’m not one and most of the time I think I come off as being levelheaded and sensible. However, when it comes to my writing, I try to be thick skinned.

Few people like criticism, but for a writer, it is as necessary for growth as rain is for flowers. I well recall how after attending meetings of a critique group in the first year of my endeavors, I returned home feeling like a whipped dog. I’d seethe with rage, thinking that my critics had failed to understand my work, had not comprehended what I was trying to accomplish. As time passed, it occurred to me that maybe they were right. Perhaps some of my writing wasn’t clear, or maybe I wasn’t moving my story forward.

 I began to understand that the criticism had not been aimed at me, but at my work. I learned to appreciate the suggestions my fellow writers offered; after all, each critic represented a potential reader. I jotted down their suggestions as fast as I could so that later I’d be able to carefully consider them.

 Did I accept every suggestion—no, after all, I’m still the author, it’s up to me to decide which ideas are right for the work at issue. However, I must admit that I found most, probably 90% , worth adopting because they improved my material.

Over the years, I’ve had an opportunity to observe other writers. Most who attend literary meetings crave suggestions that foster growth. A few are so defensive, or arrogant that they are doomed to stagnate. It is likely that their only rationale for joining a literary group is to hear the plaudits. Sometimes I think that critique groups should advertise: WANTED—THICK-SKINNED AUTHORS.

 

Speaking of critiques, you’ll soon get your chance because in the very near future I plan to post right here, one of my latest novels.  In late March 2011, I began the outline for RAPE. The novel was not completed until August 25, 2012. No publisher has seen it yet. I plan to post one new chapter every couple of weeks in serial form in hopes that my readers will offer their suggestions as to how the work might be improved. (AND IT’S FREE)

In the interim, don’t forget to check my website: joshswritingroom.com.  There you can find info about the author and about the novels that have been published electronically. You can also find a short story to read. (AND IT’S FREE .) The current selection is from that master storyteller, Frank Lohan. It's one of my favorites. Sit back, relax and enjoy!

Plot vs. Theme

 

Hi Everyone:

Recently, a reader asked, “What’s the difference between theme and plot?”

In my opinion, good literature usually contains an over-arching theme or rationale, the basis for the story; whereas the plot is the action, a series of conflicts and resolutions that over the course of the story proves or disproves the over-arching theme.

For example, the theme of my novel, Alex—Peanut Butter—And Me, is that sometimes, the most insignificant act inflicts the gravest wound. The story revolves around the struggles of its main character to overcome the chasm between himself and the 20-year old, intellectually challenged son of his deceased wife’s first marriage.

In my novel, Palm Beach Style, the theme is “Be careful of what you really want, because you just might get it.” The plot concerns a spoiled rich woman, who sets out to prove that she is smarter than her detective lover by committing the perfect crime.

In Stein on Writing, the author points out, “The most interesting stories involve characters who want something badly.

In Kafka’s The Trial, Joseph K. wants to know why he is being arrested, why he is being tried, what he is guilty of.                

In Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, the central character constructs his life with the sole object of reuniting with Daisy, the woman he loves.

In Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, Emma Bovary, her head full of romantic notions, wants to escape the dreariness of her husband and her life.”

Stein points out: “The essence of dramatic conflict lies in the clash of wants.”

Here are examples of common themes:

·        The old ways are best

·        The new ways are better

·        The Champion never gives up

·        Faith will see you through

·        Father knows best

·        Crime does not pay

·        Honesty is the best policy

·        It pays to be frugal

·        As the twig is bent, so groes the tree

·        Technology will save us

·        Technology robs us of our humanity

·        Put duty before pleasure

·        A small slight has huge repercussions

·        Man is the captain of his soul, master of his fate

·        A fool can get away with anything

·        Winning is all that matters

·        Success has a thousand fathers, failure is a bastard

 

I am pleased to provide another short story, titled The Fence. Writing this one made me conscious of the joy one must feel when conquering Mount Everest.

When I began writing, I was only sure of three things:

1.     The antagonist’s name.

2.     That he was overweight.

3.     He was a Fence and planned jewel heists.

 I hope you experience as much pleasure from reading The Fence as I derived from writing it. It is available at my website:  joshswritingroom.com  Just click on the Short Story tab. You won’t make me angry if you also check out my novels.

 

 

CRITIQUE GROUPS AND MORE

 

Hi Everyone:

When you make up your mind to write something, be it short story, novel, or essay, how do you know if it is any good?  When one is both author and critic, it is only natural to favor a positive outcome.

Sometimes, I read material several times while it is still on my computer screen, looking for errors that I can quickly correct, but I find that it is not until I have printed it out that I find some of its more obvious flaws. Just reading it a-loud helps me to locate other mistakes. I often read to my dog, but Pumpkin isn’t much of a critic, she yawns at my attempts at humor and sleeps through suspense scenes.

Some writers read their drafts to close friends and relatives. Unfortunately, many of these merely tell the author what they think he wants to hear, instead of those things he really needs to hear.

i.e. “I loved it!”

Or, “That’s very nice.”

I’m very fortunate, my wife, who is my first reader, has a great eye for mistakes, and often takes me to task when she thinks that something I’ve written is not realistic, or is too wordy.

 I’m also fortunate in that I am a member of an excellent critique group, The Writer’s Studio. I have been attending its weekly sessions for over ten years. Meetings last for about two and a half hours, during that time, writers read a portion of their material and listen as the members offer suggestions as to how it might be improved.  The comments typically include:

 Plot-- (It isn’t plausible);

 Setting-- (Are you sure people in that time behaved that way?)

 Characters-- (Your protagonist sounds one-dimensional),

 Dialogue-- (Your characters need to have different rhythms and vocabularies), and Action-- (Where is the conflict?)

After the meeting, I come home and review my notes. Do I take all of the suggestions? No. I’m still the author; it’s still my work.  I have to decide if the suggestions will make my work better. In truth, I consider them all, and usually find a way to include most of them.

While the large Publishing Houses and some of the smaller Independent Presses employ editors to review accepted submissions during the pre-publication process, some writers employ a professional editor to help polish their manuscripts in hopes of attracting a Literary Agent (the publisher’s gatekeeper) and ultimately a publishing contract.  

There are no professional requirements for advertising as an Editor (and Editors need to charge for their services) so the writer should be careful. In addition, not everyone can afford to pay for the service, making critique groups such as The Writer’s Studio all the more helpful.

You can read Cocoa Baby, a vignette written by Janet Kleinman, a member of The Writer’s Studio and a published author, by going to my website, joshswritingroom.com and clicking on the Short Story tab. Janet recently published Flirting with Disaster, a romantic thriller that includes love, adventure, and enough sex to make it exciting. She is busy working on a family saga. You can learn more about Janet and her novel at livingtheliterarylife.blogspot.com

Lights

Hi Everyone:

Every now and then, one of my friends will ask me, “What are you working on now?” and I reply something like this: I just finished writing chapter twelve of my current writing project. It is historical fiction. I am aiming for an audience of teenage readers, a first for me.

 Now, it bears a working title: The Adventures of Silent Sam, and takes place during the American Revolutionary War.  I have always been interested in history, especially American history, and while I once toyed with the idea of writing a novel around General U. S. Grant’s siege of Vicksburg, this will be a first for me. When I write, there is often a certain amount of research that needs to be done, but nothing like what I am doing now; it’s a challenge.

When it is finished, I shall dedicate it to my granddaughter, Jennifer, who was the cause of my first historical tale and to my daughter, Terry who suggested I use the tale I invented to interest her daughter in American history as a springboard for this novel.

 

“Lights !  Action!  Camera!”

Those are famous Hollywood commands; in writing, we only have one such command, but in a way, we try to obey all three. The reader craves action and we strive to deliver it by our awareness of those things that slow or stop action. We turn on the lights when we are able to keep the reader focused on the action of our story and of course, we, and through us the characters are often the eye of the camera.

When watching a movie or story on television, everything is right there in front of the viewer’s eyes; action, dialogue, and setting are simultaneously experienced. However, even in Hollywood, the story sometimes requires giving the audience information about the past.  To do this, the film editor may insert a sign notifying the viewer, it proclaims:

“3-YEARS EARLIER”

Then what we call: back-story is shown in flawless action giving the viewer what is needed to make the plot more understandable. The next time you see this, note how little it negatively influences your enjoyment of the story. The reason for this is that it is visual and immediate.

Unless handled carefully, two of the things that can stop the action in written form are description and back-story. One way to handle description is to make it part of the action. Here is how I handled it in a short story, Fruits of Labor. Ex-bank robber, Jack Snyder, enters a bank in Brazil to rent a safe deposit box. There, he is escorted to that department by Antonio:

          With a firm grip on his briefcase, Snyder followed the slender, young man past the many teller windows toward the rear of the bank. His professional eye took in the two armed-security men and the half dozen video cameras mounted on the walls. . . . 

          He noted with pleasure, the sharpness of his reflection on the polished marble floor. Beyond the tellers, a soft, dark green carpet cushioned the sound of their footsteps. Snyder observed that Antonio’s trousers were the same color as the carpet. Must be some kind of uniform, he decided. The other guys are wearing beige jackets and dark green pant too. They didn’t do that at the branch of this outfit that I knocked over.

You can read the entire short story on my website: joshswritingroom.com

Another literary problem writers encounter is that of Narrative summaries, the recounting of things that happen out of the readers sight or hearing. While narrative can move from point A to point B faster than dialogue, if it’s long, it stops the action.  For that reason writers often remind themselves, show don’t tell. Narrative summary if kept brief can transport the reader from one immediate scene to the next.

          “Sam jumped on his horse and rode over the hill.”

“Sam jumped on his horse,” is the immediate action, while the last part of that sentence, “and rode over the hill.” is narrative summary, beyond the readers sight. It can be used to transition to a scene on the other side of the hill.

Characters needed

Hi Everyone:

Casey Stengel said; “If you want to play baseball, the first thing you have to do is go out and get a bunch of fellers.”

Casey’s pronouncement also applies to creating a story; you need some characters. Mark Twain, whom many consider the first of the modern American novelists, declared; “If you invent two or three people and turn them loose in your manuscript, something is bound to happen to them—you can’t help it; and then it will take you the rest of the book to get them out of the natural consequences of that occurrence, and so first thing you know, there’s your book all finished up and never cost you an idea.”

Good stories start with interesting characters. A bridge falling down is of interest for a moment or two; it becomes a riveting tale when we learn about the people who were on it at the time. Thornton Wilder’s acclaimed second novel, The Bridge of San Luis Rey, is just such a story. It opens with this line: “On Friday noon, July the twentieth, 1714, the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travelers into the gulf below.”

A friar, Brother Juniper, witnesses the event and journeys on a quest to prove that Devine intervention rather than chance led to the five deaths. His quest reveals each of the characters and leads him to uncover the nature of love and the meaning of the human condition.

Good authors are aware of the importance of character development. While some of the characters in a story may appear to be normal and therefore believable, they often try to endow a main character with some eccentricity in order to make him or her more memorable. Elwood P. Dowd comes to mind. While fond of drinking, he was no alcoholic, but his closest friend was a giant rabbit, invisible to most, called Harvey.

In my novel, Palm Beach Style, the main character, Dugan, is a pistachio eating detective, who frequently offers to share with those who help him nail the bad guy. This may not be as unusual as a giant rabbit but it sets him apart while letting him function in his profession.  Eccentricity will not, in & of itself, create a memorable lead character; for that the author must endow the fictional protagonist and antagonist with emotional and psychological depth—feelings, passion, and desires. Most of that comes to the author from digging deep within and I believe it is what makes writing an art like no other.

As an author, I find it helpful to develop personality studies for all my main characters (while limiting these developments for minor players).  My descriptions include physical attributes (that I may or may not reveal) as well as mannerisms and in some cases, favorite expressions (allowing the reader to identify a speaker without benefit of a tag line naming the source). Recently there was an interview published in Writer’s Digest. When asked about his 6’5” protagonist, Jack Reacher, the author, Lee Child, who has written seventeen books about him commented, “…I leave him undescribed a lot of the time, I leave him unexplained, and so he can do pretty much what he wants.”  Note the last phrase, “what he wants;” the author knows his character so well that in constructing the story, it is the character that dictates his actions and reactions. Authors often feel that the characters dictate the story.

According to Sol Stein, the author of Stein on Writing, “In a novel it is common and desirable for the principal character to change by the end of the book.” He also states; “A change can be surprising, but it should not seem out of sync with what we know about the character.”

Short story writers face the same challenges, except that conflicts must be resolved, or quests fulfilled in fewer pages. My good friend, Frank Lohan does this so well. I invite you to read Frank’s short story, Don’t Forget Pastrami and see for yourself. You can find it by going to my website at:  joshswritingroom.com