Jon Ureña's Blog, page 23
December 29, 2023
On writing: Protagonist #1
You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.
If you’ve been following my posts up to this point and you’ve done the necessary work, you should have ended up with a killer concept and a promising premise. Congraturation! But this story is still far from its happy end. The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on creating a worthy protagonist that will endure the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, and that in the end will either emerge victorious or fail spectacularly.
-Write down possible options for the hero’s weaknesses and change.
-Can you center your story on a character blinded by a single-minded obsession, whose weakness is the flip side of her strength?
-Can you have the protagonist desperately pursuing something?
-Does he desperately want something and is willing to risk almost anything to get it?
-Consider how sharp the point of the story will cut for each possible protagonist, in order to choose the better one.
-The event you’re writing about should be the most important moment of your hero’s life, the most critical. If your story isn’t about the most important moment in your hero’s life, don’t write the story. Write about whatever was the most important moment in his life, because that’s likely to be more interesting.
-How does the plot arise of the main character?
-How does everything rest on your main character?
-How does he have enough grit to possibly resolve the problem?
-Could you make the protagonist someone very unlikely to achieve the goal?
-How can the protagonist be the vehicle to showcasing the concept?
-How many people can you involve and affect by her choices?
-How does the protagonist’s past make what happens to him the moment he steps onto the first page of the story inevitable?
-How would the protagonist’s past be a big part of the story’s force of opposition? How does it tell you what, specifically, your protagonist is against, both internally and externally?
-How does this protagonist’s specific past determine not only what will happen in the plot, but how she sees her world, what she does, and most importantly, why?
-Explain in broad terms how the gauntlet of the plot will test this protagonist.
-Are you sure this character is the most compellingly conflicted in the story?
-How would this protagonist’s transformation, his inner change, embody the point of the story?
-How is this story the quest this protagonist has spent most of his life suiting up for?
-How does the story force this protagonist to call into question deeply held beliefs?
-What will the problems in the story mean to the protagonist? What specific plan will they topple? What internal fear will they force him to confront? What long-held desire will they give him no choice but to go after? Because your story isn’t about the external change your “what if” is going to put the protagonist through; it’s about why that change matters to him.
-How is the protagonist about to walk into the next day of her life, which she believes will go according to plan, her plan, the one based on all the past experience, but it won’t, because the story doesn’t meet his expectations?
-What are the protagonist’s plans that the story will upend, and why do they matter to him?
-How would the story test his flaw/misbelief to the max, opening his eyes along the way, or, depending on the point you are making, not?
-Does the protagonist require any noticeable personal growth to gain the inner strength to defeat the external antagonists? Use this to spark ideas and also figure out what type of arc he will have.
-In the first half of a book, protags are generally trying to achieve an objective which allows them to continue on as they are. A proud character will try to preserve their dignity; a fearful character will give in to their fear and want to run away. In the second half, they generally begin trying to achieve objectives that will allow them to master their flaws.
-Does the protagonist make significant decisions? Does he enact those decisions? If not, why not?
-How would this story exist to serve this hero?
-How is, in the end, this hero the only one who can solve the problem?
-There needs to be a deeper reason why your heroes are the only ones who can solve this problem. Calling the cops should not be an option, whether or not a cell phone is available.
-Could he, and other characters possibly, start on the edge of a crisis?
-You can’t tell the audience who the hero is; you need to show them. The audience chooses the hero, not the other way around. The audience will choose the character who is trying the hardest to get what he wants.
-Does the hero have (or claim) decision-making authority?
-Do you have a compelling or unique take on character that can only enhance your premise?
-Try to think outside the envelope. Take the idea you have for your protagonist and see how that looks when you make her astronaut, a nuclear physicist working to create an invisible force field, or a paranormal healer that can see people’s illnesses in their eyes.
-Your heroes shouldn’t react to their situations in typical ways. Instead, heroes must respond to their challenge in their own unique way. That unique reaction is what makes the heroes. This is what the Everyman wouldn’t do. This is why this story happens.
-Is the protagonist interesting and someone we could root for?
-Will my reader experience empathy for my hero?
-Why do you love your protagonist? And if you don’t, why do you intend to write about a protagonist that you don’t love?
-How would he be both a winner and a loser? The audience wants to cheer and fear for every hero throughout every story.
-How does he have a lot of badassery and a lot of vulnerability?
-How would he be in over his head often?
-Caring is only the first half of empathy, because as much as we feel for their flaws, we also need to trust the heroes’ strengths. This is the area where many beginners fall down on the job. Audiences are naturally inclined to reject heroes until they earn their investment. Your heroes need not be do-gooders or Earth savers, but they must be active, resourceful, and differentiated from those around them, even if it means they’re extraordinarily rotten.
If you’ve been following my posts up to this point and you’ve done the necessary work, you should have ended up with a killer concept and a promising premise. Congraturation! But this story is still far from its happy end. The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on creating a worthy protagonist that will endure the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, and that in the end will either emerge victorious or fail spectacularly.
-Write down possible options for the hero’s weaknesses and change.
-Can you center your story on a character blinded by a single-minded obsession, whose weakness is the flip side of her strength?
-Can you have the protagonist desperately pursuing something?
-Does he desperately want something and is willing to risk almost anything to get it?
-Consider how sharp the point of the story will cut for each possible protagonist, in order to choose the better one.
-The event you’re writing about should be the most important moment of your hero’s life, the most critical. If your story isn’t about the most important moment in your hero’s life, don’t write the story. Write about whatever was the most important moment in his life, because that’s likely to be more interesting.
-How does the plot arise of the main character?
-How does everything rest on your main character?
-How does he have enough grit to possibly resolve the problem?
-Could you make the protagonist someone very unlikely to achieve the goal?
-How can the protagonist be the vehicle to showcasing the concept?
-How many people can you involve and affect by her choices?
-How does the protagonist’s past make what happens to him the moment he steps onto the first page of the story inevitable?
-How would the protagonist’s past be a big part of the story’s force of opposition? How does it tell you what, specifically, your protagonist is against, both internally and externally?
-How does this protagonist’s specific past determine not only what will happen in the plot, but how she sees her world, what she does, and most importantly, why?
-Explain in broad terms how the gauntlet of the plot will test this protagonist.
-Are you sure this character is the most compellingly conflicted in the story?
-How would this protagonist’s transformation, his inner change, embody the point of the story?
-How is this story the quest this protagonist has spent most of his life suiting up for?
-How does the story force this protagonist to call into question deeply held beliefs?
-What will the problems in the story mean to the protagonist? What specific plan will they topple? What internal fear will they force him to confront? What long-held desire will they give him no choice but to go after? Because your story isn’t about the external change your “what if” is going to put the protagonist through; it’s about why that change matters to him.
-How is the protagonist about to walk into the next day of her life, which she believes will go according to plan, her plan, the one based on all the past experience, but it won’t, because the story doesn’t meet his expectations?
-What are the protagonist’s plans that the story will upend, and why do they matter to him?
-How would the story test his flaw/misbelief to the max, opening his eyes along the way, or, depending on the point you are making, not?
-Does the protagonist require any noticeable personal growth to gain the inner strength to defeat the external antagonists? Use this to spark ideas and also figure out what type of arc he will have.
-In the first half of a book, protags are generally trying to achieve an objective which allows them to continue on as they are. A proud character will try to preserve their dignity; a fearful character will give in to their fear and want to run away. In the second half, they generally begin trying to achieve objectives that will allow them to master their flaws.
-Does the protagonist make significant decisions? Does he enact those decisions? If not, why not?
-How would this story exist to serve this hero?
-How is, in the end, this hero the only one who can solve the problem?
-There needs to be a deeper reason why your heroes are the only ones who can solve this problem. Calling the cops should not be an option, whether or not a cell phone is available.
-Could he, and other characters possibly, start on the edge of a crisis?
-You can’t tell the audience who the hero is; you need to show them. The audience chooses the hero, not the other way around. The audience will choose the character who is trying the hardest to get what he wants.
-Does the hero have (or claim) decision-making authority?
-Do you have a compelling or unique take on character that can only enhance your premise?
-Try to think outside the envelope. Take the idea you have for your protagonist and see how that looks when you make her astronaut, a nuclear physicist working to create an invisible force field, or a paranormal healer that can see people’s illnesses in their eyes.
-Your heroes shouldn’t react to their situations in typical ways. Instead, heroes must respond to their challenge in their own unique way. That unique reaction is what makes the heroes. This is what the Everyman wouldn’t do. This is why this story happens.
-Is the protagonist interesting and someone we could root for?
-Will my reader experience empathy for my hero?
-Why do you love your protagonist? And if you don’t, why do you intend to write about a protagonist that you don’t love?
-How would he be both a winner and a loser? The audience wants to cheer and fear for every hero throughout every story.
-How does he have a lot of badassery and a lot of vulnerability?
-How would he be in over his head often?
-Caring is only the first half of empathy, because as much as we feel for their flaws, we also need to trust the heroes’ strengths. This is the area where many beginners fall down on the job. Audiences are naturally inclined to reject heroes until they earn their investment. Your heroes need not be do-gooders or Earth savers, but they must be active, resourceful, and differentiated from those around them, even if it means they’re extraordinarily rotten.
December 28, 2023
On writing: Originality
You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.
If you’ve been following my posts up to this point and you’ve done the necessary work, you should have ended up with a killer concept and a promising premise. Congraturation! But this story is still far from its happy end. The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on an isolated aspect of developing a story before you delve into the nitty-gritty of structuring the damn thing.
-No matter what aspect of writing we’re talking about, you need to find a unique take, a unique slant, a different way in that audiences haven’t seen before.
-What is original within the story idea, what makes it unique?
-How is the story different from all the others on the same shelf?
-How can you make this idea more interesting than any other handling of the same concept by another author?
-How does the originality speak for itself in your premise?
-How is this material truly your own, of central importance to you?
-How does it present novelty, challenge and/or aesthetic value?
-What are other stories with a similar concept, and how can you make yours more interesting?
-How do you tweak the norm or expected? How do you bring to that tired old plot idea something unexpected, something intriguing?
-If other stories have touched on your themes before, how will your story offer a clever variation?
-Evaluate how surprising and interesting your character’s quest to achieve his wants and needs is.
-Is this single story line unique enough to appeal a lot of people besides you?
-Describe as many of the story challenges and problems that are unique to your idea as you think of.
-Will your story show us at least one image we haven’t seen before (that can be used to promote the final product)?
-Look for where the idea might go, how it might blossom. Brainstorm the many different paths the idea can take, and choose the best one.
-Ask “what if” about the story idea. It helps you explore your mind as it plays in this make-believe landscape.
-Always go beyond the obvious choice. One of the keys to becoming a professional writer is not settling for the obvious choice, whether that choice be a concept, a character, a scene, or a line of dialogue. Good writers push past the obvious until they find something unique.
-Discount the 1st thing that comes to mind. And the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th – get the obvious out of the way. Surprise yourself.
-Don’t resort to repeating stories you’ve already seen. Look for opportunities to twist things around and approach the idea from a new angle.
-One of the things a writer must do is surprise the person who can’t be surprised.
-Is anything promised by this idea? Does this idea generate certain expectations, things that must happen to satisfy the audience if this idea were to play out in a full story? Think of the obligatory scenes this premise demands, and concentrate on making them original. Brainstorm plenty of alternatives.
-Ask what is an unexpected thing that could happen. What would be the expectations, and how can you throw them off?
-Does the story contain a surprise that is not obvious from the beginning?
How would you let your characters surprise you, and therefore surprise the audience too?
If you’ve been following my posts up to this point and you’ve done the necessary work, you should have ended up with a killer concept and a promising premise. Congraturation! But this story is still far from its happy end. The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on an isolated aspect of developing a story before you delve into the nitty-gritty of structuring the damn thing.
-No matter what aspect of writing we’re talking about, you need to find a unique take, a unique slant, a different way in that audiences haven’t seen before.
-What is original within the story idea, what makes it unique?
-How is the story different from all the others on the same shelf?
-How can you make this idea more interesting than any other handling of the same concept by another author?
-How does the originality speak for itself in your premise?
-How is this material truly your own, of central importance to you?
-How does it present novelty, challenge and/or aesthetic value?
-What are other stories with a similar concept, and how can you make yours more interesting?
-How do you tweak the norm or expected? How do you bring to that tired old plot idea something unexpected, something intriguing?
-If other stories have touched on your themes before, how will your story offer a clever variation?
-Evaluate how surprising and interesting your character’s quest to achieve his wants and needs is.
-Is this single story line unique enough to appeal a lot of people besides you?
-Describe as many of the story challenges and problems that are unique to your idea as you think of.
-Will your story show us at least one image we haven’t seen before (that can be used to promote the final product)?
-Look for where the idea might go, how it might blossom. Brainstorm the many different paths the idea can take, and choose the best one.
-Ask “what if” about the story idea. It helps you explore your mind as it plays in this make-believe landscape.
-Always go beyond the obvious choice. One of the keys to becoming a professional writer is not settling for the obvious choice, whether that choice be a concept, a character, a scene, or a line of dialogue. Good writers push past the obvious until they find something unique.
-Discount the 1st thing that comes to mind. And the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th – get the obvious out of the way. Surprise yourself.
-Don’t resort to repeating stories you’ve already seen. Look for opportunities to twist things around and approach the idea from a new angle.
-One of the things a writer must do is surprise the person who can’t be surprised.
-Is anything promised by this idea? Does this idea generate certain expectations, things that must happen to satisfy the audience if this idea were to play out in a full story? Think of the obligatory scenes this premise demands, and concentrate on making them original. Brainstorm plenty of alternatives.
-Ask what is an unexpected thing that could happen. What would be the expectations, and how can you throw them off?
-Does the story contain a surprise that is not obvious from the beginning?
How would you let your characters surprise you, and therefore surprise the audience too?
December 27, 2023
On writing: Developing the premise #9
You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on revising the work you’ve done so far, particularly related to your premise, to solve all the glaring issues before you delve into the meaty parts of turning a premise into a full story.
-Are you able to summarize your story in a few sentences, or a single paragraph?
-Can you spot any inherent problems right at the premise line?
-Having in mind that the premise is your prison, are you happy with the special world you’ve chosen?
-Is the premise all that it could be? Does it seem too familiar? Is it too reminiscent of stories you’ve read before?
-Are you sure the reader hasn’t encountered this story before, or if he has, this offers a new and intriguing twist?
-Are you sure you have found your best story yet? What could be better?
-Are you sure that the dramatic focus of this story connects with the concept that “spawned” the premise? How does it connect to it exactly?
-Are you sure it doesn’t focus too much on character, without giving him or her something compelling to do?
-Does your story rely on “real life” to present obstacles to the hero’s quest? In that case, it could lead to episodic narrative without a central spine.
-Are you sure your story isn’t too small?
-Have you made your story sound big and important?
-Are you sure your story has enough potential for dramatic tension?
-Can you ensure that there’s something more at stake in your story other than the hero’s happiness, redemption, or restoration of self-confidence, which may only be part of their character arc?
-How do you have a concept with a kicker, conflict with high stakes, protagonist with a goal and theme with a heart?
-Is your story at risk of lacking a compelling plot because it lacks a natural antagonist or villain?
-Will it have unique imagery, buzz worthy scenes, and a few narrative surprises?
-Are you sure you don’t have a split premise? Make sure there’s a single cause-and-effect pathway, or else it will feel like it’s all over the place.
-If you are developing a premise with many main characters, each story line must have a single cause-and-effect path.
-Premise is something you need to nail. It is the beating heart of a story. When you do nail it, it can be stated in a few short, glowing sentences. If it needs explaining, chances are it’s not yet focused enough. The drama needs to leap from it; the stakes need to be clear.
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on revising the work you’ve done so far, particularly related to your premise, to solve all the glaring issues before you delve into the meaty parts of turning a premise into a full story.
-Are you able to summarize your story in a few sentences, or a single paragraph?
-Can you spot any inherent problems right at the premise line?
-Having in mind that the premise is your prison, are you happy with the special world you’ve chosen?
-Is the premise all that it could be? Does it seem too familiar? Is it too reminiscent of stories you’ve read before?
-Are you sure the reader hasn’t encountered this story before, or if he has, this offers a new and intriguing twist?
-Are you sure you have found your best story yet? What could be better?
-Are you sure that the dramatic focus of this story connects with the concept that “spawned” the premise? How does it connect to it exactly?
-Are you sure it doesn’t focus too much on character, without giving him or her something compelling to do?
-Does your story rely on “real life” to present obstacles to the hero’s quest? In that case, it could lead to episodic narrative without a central spine.
-Are you sure your story isn’t too small?
-Have you made your story sound big and important?
-Are you sure your story has enough potential for dramatic tension?
-Can you ensure that there’s something more at stake in your story other than the hero’s happiness, redemption, or restoration of self-confidence, which may only be part of their character arc?
-How do you have a concept with a kicker, conflict with high stakes, protagonist with a goal and theme with a heart?
-Is your story at risk of lacking a compelling plot because it lacks a natural antagonist or villain?
-Will it have unique imagery, buzz worthy scenes, and a few narrative surprises?
-Are you sure you don’t have a split premise? Make sure there’s a single cause-and-effect pathway, or else it will feel like it’s all over the place.
-If you are developing a premise with many main characters, each story line must have a single cause-and-effect path.
-Premise is something you need to nail. It is the beating heart of a story. When you do nail it, it can be stated in a few short, glowing sentences. If it needs explaining, chances are it’s not yet focused enough. The drama needs to leap from it; the stakes need to be clear.
We're Fucked, Pt. 124 (Fiction)
Check out this chapter on my personal page, where it looks better
---
The front door of the office thuds closed. Once Jordi's footsteps fade into the background hum of fluorescent lights and the air conditioning's whir, I crane my neck toward the frosted-glass wall of Ramsés' office. His door is open. I hold my breath and perk my ears up to detect the clatter of keyboard keys, the creaking of his leather executive chair, or a muffled fart. Instead, I hear the pulsating of my blood vessels. The last time Ramsés left the office to take a shit or smoke a cig, he must have segued into his lunch break.
Even in the haze of my caffeinated anxiety, the fist of tension that had held me tight unclenches. I lean back in my chair and exhale deeply. I have reached my favorite moment of the office hours, other than when they end: I'm free from the presence of other human beings, that as if I were a quantum system, had transformed me from a superposition of states into something definite. Now I can let my mind drift off without worrying about making weird faces or muttering nonsense as I argue with my inner demons.
I reach for my lunch: two triangular halves of bread, ham, and cheese, their natural colors peeking through synthetic packaging. I pinch the edge of the cling film and peel it back. The seal breaks, releasing the trapped aroma, a salty-sweet combination of meat and dairy. After hours of holding a computer mouse, I welcome the cool, moist texture of the bread, but when I take a bite, the sandwich's taste reminds me of its week-long confinement inside a refrigerated machine.
Oh, YouTube has recommended a "fails of the week" video. I munch on my sandwich while enjoying the parade of mundane disasters: a teenager barrels his bike into a garden fence; a man crossing a log over a stream slips and crushes his nuts; a texting college girl face-plants into fresh cement; a pair of overambitious souls try to wedge a gigantic fridge into a two-seater; a car mounted on a hydraulic lift at a mechanic's shop falls on its side; a long-haired dude attempts a flip on his skateboard only to shatter his teeth against the curb; a worker, losing his footing, slides helplessly down a snow-covered roof and plunges onto the street three stories below; a girl posing coquettishly in front of a full-length mirror is interrupted by the mirror toppling onto her head; a pole vaulter nails his jump, but the tilting pole crushes his nuts.
These individuals, belonging to a species increasingly adept at its own annihilation, have not vanished into the cosmos: their misfortunes have been captured on digital footage for entertainment. They serve as reminders that we're fragile creatures prone to error, but if we laugh at our mistakes, we can mitigate their sting, unless we end up castrated or dead.
The office lights cast a glare on my boss' receding hairline as he looms over me like a giant boulder about to flatten a worm.
I shriek.
My thoughts have scattered like panicked cats. When I gather them together, my heart is hammering against my ribs.
"You're one easily startled woman," Ramsés says.
He rests a hand on my shoulder, his greasy fingers pressing into the cotton of my jumper: an unabashed assault. My neck stiffens, and a wave of heat rushes to my face. I dread to glance down in case the bulge of his crotch has swollen.
I'm a flower trembling before a vast, chaotic universe that threatens to consume me, and Ramsés, a pillar of pungent humanity, is the harbinger of doom. I should shatter the veneer of a civilized society by punching him in the throat. Once my boss falls to his knees, coughing and spluttering, I'll stomp on his hand over and over, mashing it into the carpet.
His filthy hand slips away from my shoulder, likely smearing a stain on my jumper.
"Is there anything I can help you with, sir?"
My tone must have betrayed my annoyance, maybe even my homicidal impulse, because Ramsés lengthens a pause. The overhead lights are emphasizing the raised mole above his left eyebrow.
"It's time we had that chat, Leire."
"What chat?"
"As I told you, I was waiting for the opportunity to offer you a proposal. I'm free, you're free, and I don't want to take up your time after work. Let's do it now."
A sickly yellow fog seeps through the soggy marshland of my psyche. Ramsés, always the bearer of ill tidings, doesn't deserve a coherent reply. At best I should muster a dismissive wave of my hand, signaling the end of his unwelcome interruption. I could also let loose a string of profanities and spit in his face. Instead, betraying myself, I clear my throat and wipe the sandwich residue off my lips.
"Is this one of those things where you'll keep insisting until I listen to your proposal?"
Ramsés' brow furrows into a map of foreboding.
"Let's not be oversensitive, Leire. I only discuss matters of significance, you know that."
These days, a part of me reluctantly acknowledges the wisdom in lending an ear, on the off chance of averting an apocalypse. The rest of me, though, wants to jam a pen through Ramsés' eye and twist until the point penetrates his brain.
"Alright then. Please proceed."
My boss turns, exposing his kidneys to a crippling blow. Wait, why is he heading to the front door? Did he intend to show off his ass?
"Weren't you going to tell me something?" I ask nervously.
Ramsés halts, and looks over his shoulder.
"I had in mind a more secluded spot for our discussion, concerning the proposal I mentioned."
"Where? Do we have a conference room?"
Ramsés sighs. He beckons me with his thick fingers.
"We're wasting time. Come along, and you'll find out soon enough."
After gulping down the last of my sandwich, I push myself up from the chair. He's already holding the door open for me. Is it legal for a boss to compel his employee into having a private meeting? Instead of indulging his whims, I yearn to finish my work, go home, and make sweet love to mommy. Right now, my two family members must be strolling along Ondarreta beach, while Nairu marvels at the crashing waves and the seagulls coasting on the air. Maybe they have moved on to the Comb of the Wind, which Jacqueline was eager to present to our Paleolithic artist. I picture Nairu seated on the steps as she sketches the rusted iron sculptures integrated in rocky outcrops, or the water jets that shoot up from the platform, spraying sea mist. The pavement is a mosaic of cobblestone and foam like from a receding tide. If I could join them, my heart would be set at ease.
Should I refuse to meet with my boss unless Jordi accompanies me? He gave me his number, so he may come to my rescue if Ramsés' behavior turns creepy. Jordi, despite having been born a man, is a clean-cut kid who listened to Jacqueline's sexual escapades during lunch break without getting aroused, while our boss, this shithead who worsened a life that already sucked, tends to flicker his gaze toward my breasts. I have felt him seconds away from groping my butt, and I suffered nightmares of him cornering me in his office and shoving his fingers up my cunt. Nobody would have found out, because I would have kept such indignities a secret.
So what now? Will I follow Ramsés into the overcast midday until he finds a quiet corner in the park or a café? I would prefer somewhere I can order coffee. I'd warm my palms around the cup as I sat in front of my boss, and if he uttered something nasty, I'd splash the scalding brew in his face, blinding him. He would stumble into traffic and get mowed down by a truck. With his body twisted and broken on the tarmac, his last words would be, "Sorry, Leire. I'll never bother you again." But what if Ramsés takes me to a deserted parking lot, a wooded grove, or a derelict warehouse? Maybe I'll end up on a torture table, lying spread-eagled with shackles binding my wrists and ankles. I picture the brassy gleam of a scalpel slicing through the flesh of my belly, his hands reaching into the crimson mess to fondle my guts.
In the darkness of my mind, the one provider of freedom rotates like a pick-up item in a video game: Spike's revolver. Its cylinder, deeply fluted, casts shadows along the six chambers. Above its grip of checkered wood, the polished frame is engraved with a skull and crossbones. I wish I were clutching my weapon already, feeling its wood and cold steel against the sweaty heat of my palm. As the one in power, I wouldn't hesitate to follow my boss to any secluded corner; if he annoyed me enough, I'd hold him at gunpoint until he praised or at least complimented me, knowing that with one twitch of my forefinger, a bullet would blast out at the speed of a tiny cannonball, and its kinetic energy would carve a tunnel through the delicate union of cranium and consciousness. Blood would ooze from the hole in thick, viscous streaks. A rattle would escape Ramsés' throat, and he would crumple to the floor. Then I'd fire into his corpse until the revolver clicked dry. If I could spare the time, I would dip my finger in his blood and write on the nearest wall, "Respect to the strong."
"Go right ahead," I say in a raspy voice. "I gotta grab something."
While I scurry to the office, Ramsés complains to my back.
"Go right ahead? You don't even know where we're going."
I fish the key chain out my trouser pocket. As I kneel in front of my desk cabinet and I fumble with the keys to unlock the top drawer, where I keep my revolver among office paraphernalia, I hear Ramsés' footsteps approaching.
"You don't need to grab anything to have a conversation," he says somberly. "Let's go."
I glance over my shoulder. Ramsés is looming behind me with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. Shit, how can I retrieve my revolver when he's staring right at me? I never asked, but I'm guessing that my boss adheres to a no-weapons policy.
"Oh, I just need my notebook and pen. I'll forget the important stuff if I don't jot it down."
Ramsés unfolds one of his arms to point at my workstation.
"Right there. Next to your keyboard."
I find myself staring at my bumblebee-yellow notebook and the ballpoint pen that rests on top of it. I swallow, grab my notebook and pen, and haul myself to my feet.
---
Author's note: today's songs are "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes, and "Take Me Out" by Franz Ferdinand.
I keep a playlist with all the songs mentioned throughout the novel. A total of two hundred and seven videos. Check them out.
Are you into AI-generated audio? Of course you are. Check out the rendition of this chapter.
---
The front door of the office thuds closed. Once Jordi's footsteps fade into the background hum of fluorescent lights and the air conditioning's whir, I crane my neck toward the frosted-glass wall of Ramsés' office. His door is open. I hold my breath and perk my ears up to detect the clatter of keyboard keys, the creaking of his leather executive chair, or a muffled fart. Instead, I hear the pulsating of my blood vessels. The last time Ramsés left the office to take a shit or smoke a cig, he must have segued into his lunch break.
Even in the haze of my caffeinated anxiety, the fist of tension that had held me tight unclenches. I lean back in my chair and exhale deeply. I have reached my favorite moment of the office hours, other than when they end: I'm free from the presence of other human beings, that as if I were a quantum system, had transformed me from a superposition of states into something definite. Now I can let my mind drift off without worrying about making weird faces or muttering nonsense as I argue with my inner demons.
I reach for my lunch: two triangular halves of bread, ham, and cheese, their natural colors peeking through synthetic packaging. I pinch the edge of the cling film and peel it back. The seal breaks, releasing the trapped aroma, a salty-sweet combination of meat and dairy. After hours of holding a computer mouse, I welcome the cool, moist texture of the bread, but when I take a bite, the sandwich's taste reminds me of its week-long confinement inside a refrigerated machine.
Oh, YouTube has recommended a "fails of the week" video. I munch on my sandwich while enjoying the parade of mundane disasters: a teenager barrels his bike into a garden fence; a man crossing a log over a stream slips and crushes his nuts; a texting college girl face-plants into fresh cement; a pair of overambitious souls try to wedge a gigantic fridge into a two-seater; a car mounted on a hydraulic lift at a mechanic's shop falls on its side; a long-haired dude attempts a flip on his skateboard only to shatter his teeth against the curb; a worker, losing his footing, slides helplessly down a snow-covered roof and plunges onto the street three stories below; a girl posing coquettishly in front of a full-length mirror is interrupted by the mirror toppling onto her head; a pole vaulter nails his jump, but the tilting pole crushes his nuts.
These individuals, belonging to a species increasingly adept at its own annihilation, have not vanished into the cosmos: their misfortunes have been captured on digital footage for entertainment. They serve as reminders that we're fragile creatures prone to error, but if we laugh at our mistakes, we can mitigate their sting, unless we end up castrated or dead.
The office lights cast a glare on my boss' receding hairline as he looms over me like a giant boulder about to flatten a worm.
I shriek.
My thoughts have scattered like panicked cats. When I gather them together, my heart is hammering against my ribs.
"You're one easily startled woman," Ramsés says.
He rests a hand on my shoulder, his greasy fingers pressing into the cotton of my jumper: an unabashed assault. My neck stiffens, and a wave of heat rushes to my face. I dread to glance down in case the bulge of his crotch has swollen.
I'm a flower trembling before a vast, chaotic universe that threatens to consume me, and Ramsés, a pillar of pungent humanity, is the harbinger of doom. I should shatter the veneer of a civilized society by punching him in the throat. Once my boss falls to his knees, coughing and spluttering, I'll stomp on his hand over and over, mashing it into the carpet.
His filthy hand slips away from my shoulder, likely smearing a stain on my jumper.
"Is there anything I can help you with, sir?"
My tone must have betrayed my annoyance, maybe even my homicidal impulse, because Ramsés lengthens a pause. The overhead lights are emphasizing the raised mole above his left eyebrow.
"It's time we had that chat, Leire."
"What chat?"
"As I told you, I was waiting for the opportunity to offer you a proposal. I'm free, you're free, and I don't want to take up your time after work. Let's do it now."
A sickly yellow fog seeps through the soggy marshland of my psyche. Ramsés, always the bearer of ill tidings, doesn't deserve a coherent reply. At best I should muster a dismissive wave of my hand, signaling the end of his unwelcome interruption. I could also let loose a string of profanities and spit in his face. Instead, betraying myself, I clear my throat and wipe the sandwich residue off my lips.
"Is this one of those things where you'll keep insisting until I listen to your proposal?"
Ramsés' brow furrows into a map of foreboding.
"Let's not be oversensitive, Leire. I only discuss matters of significance, you know that."
These days, a part of me reluctantly acknowledges the wisdom in lending an ear, on the off chance of averting an apocalypse. The rest of me, though, wants to jam a pen through Ramsés' eye and twist until the point penetrates his brain.
"Alright then. Please proceed."
My boss turns, exposing his kidneys to a crippling blow. Wait, why is he heading to the front door? Did he intend to show off his ass?
"Weren't you going to tell me something?" I ask nervously.
Ramsés halts, and looks over his shoulder.
"I had in mind a more secluded spot for our discussion, concerning the proposal I mentioned."
"Where? Do we have a conference room?"
Ramsés sighs. He beckons me with his thick fingers.
"We're wasting time. Come along, and you'll find out soon enough."
After gulping down the last of my sandwich, I push myself up from the chair. He's already holding the door open for me. Is it legal for a boss to compel his employee into having a private meeting? Instead of indulging his whims, I yearn to finish my work, go home, and make sweet love to mommy. Right now, my two family members must be strolling along Ondarreta beach, while Nairu marvels at the crashing waves and the seagulls coasting on the air. Maybe they have moved on to the Comb of the Wind, which Jacqueline was eager to present to our Paleolithic artist. I picture Nairu seated on the steps as she sketches the rusted iron sculptures integrated in rocky outcrops, or the water jets that shoot up from the platform, spraying sea mist. The pavement is a mosaic of cobblestone and foam like from a receding tide. If I could join them, my heart would be set at ease.
Should I refuse to meet with my boss unless Jordi accompanies me? He gave me his number, so he may come to my rescue if Ramsés' behavior turns creepy. Jordi, despite having been born a man, is a clean-cut kid who listened to Jacqueline's sexual escapades during lunch break without getting aroused, while our boss, this shithead who worsened a life that already sucked, tends to flicker his gaze toward my breasts. I have felt him seconds away from groping my butt, and I suffered nightmares of him cornering me in his office and shoving his fingers up my cunt. Nobody would have found out, because I would have kept such indignities a secret.
So what now? Will I follow Ramsés into the overcast midday until he finds a quiet corner in the park or a café? I would prefer somewhere I can order coffee. I'd warm my palms around the cup as I sat in front of my boss, and if he uttered something nasty, I'd splash the scalding brew in his face, blinding him. He would stumble into traffic and get mowed down by a truck. With his body twisted and broken on the tarmac, his last words would be, "Sorry, Leire. I'll never bother you again." But what if Ramsés takes me to a deserted parking lot, a wooded grove, or a derelict warehouse? Maybe I'll end up on a torture table, lying spread-eagled with shackles binding my wrists and ankles. I picture the brassy gleam of a scalpel slicing through the flesh of my belly, his hands reaching into the crimson mess to fondle my guts.
In the darkness of my mind, the one provider of freedom rotates like a pick-up item in a video game: Spike's revolver. Its cylinder, deeply fluted, casts shadows along the six chambers. Above its grip of checkered wood, the polished frame is engraved with a skull and crossbones. I wish I were clutching my weapon already, feeling its wood and cold steel against the sweaty heat of my palm. As the one in power, I wouldn't hesitate to follow my boss to any secluded corner; if he annoyed me enough, I'd hold him at gunpoint until he praised or at least complimented me, knowing that with one twitch of my forefinger, a bullet would blast out at the speed of a tiny cannonball, and its kinetic energy would carve a tunnel through the delicate union of cranium and consciousness. Blood would ooze from the hole in thick, viscous streaks. A rattle would escape Ramsés' throat, and he would crumple to the floor. Then I'd fire into his corpse until the revolver clicked dry. If I could spare the time, I would dip my finger in his blood and write on the nearest wall, "Respect to the strong."
"Go right ahead," I say in a raspy voice. "I gotta grab something."
While I scurry to the office, Ramsés complains to my back.
"Go right ahead? You don't even know where we're going."
I fish the key chain out my trouser pocket. As I kneel in front of my desk cabinet and I fumble with the keys to unlock the top drawer, where I keep my revolver among office paraphernalia, I hear Ramsés' footsteps approaching.
"You don't need to grab anything to have a conversation," he says somberly. "Let's go."
I glance over my shoulder. Ramsés is looming behind me with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. Shit, how can I retrieve my revolver when he's staring right at me? I never asked, but I'm guessing that my boss adheres to a no-weapons policy.
"Oh, I just need my notebook and pen. I'll forget the important stuff if I don't jot it down."
Ramsés unfolds one of his arms to point at my workstation.
"Right there. Next to your keyboard."
I find myself staring at my bumblebee-yellow notebook and the ballpoint pen that rests on top of it. I swallow, grab my notebook and pen, and haul myself to my feet.
---
Author's note: today's songs are "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes, and "Take Me Out" by Franz Ferdinand.
I keep a playlist with all the songs mentioned throughout the novel. A total of two hundred and seven videos. Check them out.
Are you into AI-generated audio? Of course you are. Check out the rendition of this chapter.
December 26, 2023
On writing: Developing the premise #8
You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on going deeper. Throughout the process of developing your premise, you must have settled for elements that seem good enough. However, you’re still at the stage where you can vastly improve your future story if you strengthen it from multiple angles.
-Are you sure the big-picture proposition of the premise is strong enough?
-How strong is the drama the premise promises, as opposed to just the intrigue of a static situation?
-Consider how big a challenge the premise presents, to make it the most compelling.
-Expand on the ordinary. Is it possible you could transform your premise into something more original, more exciting, more likely to grab the attention of a literary agent or reader?
-How could you make the premise fundamentally ironic?
-How can you instill tension at the premise line, the continuing feeling of unease, of things not being right in the world?
-Make the ticking clock louder and the obstacles more ominous. Assign a deadline for what the hero needs to accomplish.
-Try to have a plot that only fills half your pages, and then let your complex scenes expand to fill the rest with unexpectedly volatile emotional complications.
-If your characters are simply people you know, in settings you know, having experiences you’ve had, will that be enough?
-How great is the gulf between expectation and outcome, to maximize the meaning the story will have?
-Is there at least one “Holy crap!” scene?
-What’s the one moment that will make readers perk up and go, “Whoa! I’ve never seen that before. This story actually went there. I’m out of my comfort zone now.”
-How could this story of yours be the one to do that thing that none other would do?
-What themes, issues, or volatile topics does your premise involve? Think of at least three and write ways you could add them to the story line.
-How many mysteries can you introduce in the story, for the audience to have more reasons to keep reading?
-Are you sure there’s something interesting or unique about the protagonist, the setting or the situation?
-How could you add a deeper empathy for the characters?
-How do you make sure that your characters cannot escape from the troublesome situation they need to face?
-Why can’t the protagonist just get what he wants? Why can’t she simply talk it out? Why can’t he just walk away or quit? Why can’t she simply change?
-As much as you love your protagonist, your goal is to craft a plot that forces her to confront head-on just about everything she’s spent her entire life avoiding. You have to make sure the harder she tries, the harder it gets. Her good deeds will rarely go unpunished. Sure, every now and then it’ll seem like everything’s okay, but that’s only because you’re setting her up for an even bigger fall. You want her to relax and let her guard down a little, the better to wallop her when she least expects it. You never want to give her the benefit of the doubt, regardless of how much you feel she’s earned it. Because if you do, the one thing she won’t earn is her status as a hero.
-Could you move the premise to a higher level of conflict?
-Try to make sure that the premise involves genuine conflict, scenes where characters don’t want to do something for reasons such as these:
--it would require them to question their deep-seated assumptions.
--it would require them to overcome an inner weakness.
--they promised someone they wouldn’t do it.
--it would reveal their painful secrets.
--it would get their love interest or a family member in trouble.
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on going deeper. Throughout the process of developing your premise, you must have settled for elements that seem good enough. However, you’re still at the stage where you can vastly improve your future story if you strengthen it from multiple angles.
-Are you sure the big-picture proposition of the premise is strong enough?
-How strong is the drama the premise promises, as opposed to just the intrigue of a static situation?
-Consider how big a challenge the premise presents, to make it the most compelling.
-Expand on the ordinary. Is it possible you could transform your premise into something more original, more exciting, more likely to grab the attention of a literary agent or reader?
-How could you make the premise fundamentally ironic?
-How can you instill tension at the premise line, the continuing feeling of unease, of things not being right in the world?
-Make the ticking clock louder and the obstacles more ominous. Assign a deadline for what the hero needs to accomplish.
-Try to have a plot that only fills half your pages, and then let your complex scenes expand to fill the rest with unexpectedly volatile emotional complications.
-If your characters are simply people you know, in settings you know, having experiences you’ve had, will that be enough?
-How great is the gulf between expectation and outcome, to maximize the meaning the story will have?
-Is there at least one “Holy crap!” scene?
-What’s the one moment that will make readers perk up and go, “Whoa! I’ve never seen that before. This story actually went there. I’m out of my comfort zone now.”
-How could this story of yours be the one to do that thing that none other would do?
-What themes, issues, or volatile topics does your premise involve? Think of at least three and write ways you could add them to the story line.
-How many mysteries can you introduce in the story, for the audience to have more reasons to keep reading?
-Are you sure there’s something interesting or unique about the protagonist, the setting or the situation?
-How could you add a deeper empathy for the characters?
-How do you make sure that your characters cannot escape from the troublesome situation they need to face?
-Why can’t the protagonist just get what he wants? Why can’t she simply talk it out? Why can’t he just walk away or quit? Why can’t she simply change?
-As much as you love your protagonist, your goal is to craft a plot that forces her to confront head-on just about everything she’s spent her entire life avoiding. You have to make sure the harder she tries, the harder it gets. Her good deeds will rarely go unpunished. Sure, every now and then it’ll seem like everything’s okay, but that’s only because you’re setting her up for an even bigger fall. You want her to relax and let her guard down a little, the better to wallop her when she least expects it. You never want to give her the benefit of the doubt, regardless of how much you feel she’s earned it. Because if you do, the one thing she won’t earn is her status as a hero.
-Could you move the premise to a higher level of conflict?
-Try to make sure that the premise involves genuine conflict, scenes where characters don’t want to do something for reasons such as these:
--it would require them to question their deep-seated assumptions.
--it would require them to overcome an inner weakness.
--they promised someone they wouldn’t do it.
--it would reveal their painful secrets.
--it would get their love interest or a family member in trouble.
On writing: Developing the premise #7
You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on trying to ensure that anyone other than yourself would give a damn about the story you want or need to tell. I don’t focus much on what a random person will think about my stories; for me, the “target reader” is a fantasy. You can only truly satisfy your own subconscious, and you satisfy random readers’ subconscious to the extent that their neural pathways mimic yours. That said, considering your story from an outside perspective can improve your work.
-Create an elevator pitch for your story. Three paragraphs: 1) a character and situation; 2) the push into the plot; 3) the main story question.
-Write the pitch in three sentences: MC’s name, vocation, initial situation. “When” + main plot problem. “Now” + the death stakes.
-See if you can formulate the idea into a compelling, 30-second pitch. At least three sentences. First describes the character, his vocation, and initial circumstances. The second is the doorway of no return. The third is the death stakes.
-Your story’s logline should include the main character, the objective, and the major source of conflict.
-Why would anybody want to see or experience this story?
-How does the premise make people excited to learn more about the story just by hearing the one-line story summation you’ve come up with?
-Does your premise have an inherent appeal, or are you relying solely on your execution to make the story compelling?
-Is the one-sentence description of your story uniquely appealing?
-How does your premise seduce, make people want to read the story?
-How does it promise drama, conflict, stakes and emotional resonance?
-How is your premise cool and provocative, even if it’s actually impossible?
-How is the problem introduced in your premise larger than it looks? Why does it matter to us all?
-Could the premise be so strong that it could draw readers by itself, not depending on other components such as execution?
-Does this premise have a kicker that would make readers ask questions they would want answered?
-What controversial or sensitive issues or themes can be at the core of this idea so that it will tug on readers’ hearts?
-Would the premise appeal to a wide and inherently commercial readership? Or does it focus too narrowly on a specific corner of life, even if that issue is important to you?
-How would your story make the readers experience wonder?
-Imagine you have a gatekeeper’s attention. How will you describe your story? When you launch into your ten minute summary, will they like what they hear?
-Is this a story anyone can identify with, projected onto a bigger canvas, with higher stakes? Could you write into it the emotions you know, putting those emotions into a more extreme situation with a lot more at stake?
-Go through each of the following audience attractors your story could contain, and try to explain how your story would include them:
--Laughter
--Lust
--Adrenaline rush
--Bloodlust
--Power fantasy
--Romantic fantasy
--Pathos (something devastating)
--Beauty
--Cognitive dissonance (blew your mind)
-Is what happens to your characters exciting and dramatic, out of the ordinary, and most importantly, meaningful?
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on trying to ensure that anyone other than yourself would give a damn about the story you want or need to tell. I don’t focus much on what a random person will think about my stories; for me, the “target reader” is a fantasy. You can only truly satisfy your own subconscious, and you satisfy random readers’ subconscious to the extent that their neural pathways mimic yours. That said, considering your story from an outside perspective can improve your work.
-Create an elevator pitch for your story. Three paragraphs: 1) a character and situation; 2) the push into the plot; 3) the main story question.
-Write the pitch in three sentences: MC’s name, vocation, initial situation. “When” + main plot problem. “Now” + the death stakes.
-See if you can formulate the idea into a compelling, 30-second pitch. At least three sentences. First describes the character, his vocation, and initial circumstances. The second is the doorway of no return. The third is the death stakes.
-Your story’s logline should include the main character, the objective, and the major source of conflict.
-Why would anybody want to see or experience this story?
-How does the premise make people excited to learn more about the story just by hearing the one-line story summation you’ve come up with?
-Does your premise have an inherent appeal, or are you relying solely on your execution to make the story compelling?
-Is the one-sentence description of your story uniquely appealing?
-How does your premise seduce, make people want to read the story?
-How does it promise drama, conflict, stakes and emotional resonance?
-How is your premise cool and provocative, even if it’s actually impossible?
-How is the problem introduced in your premise larger than it looks? Why does it matter to us all?
-Could the premise be so strong that it could draw readers by itself, not depending on other components such as execution?
-Does this premise have a kicker that would make readers ask questions they would want answered?
-What controversial or sensitive issues or themes can be at the core of this idea so that it will tug on readers’ hearts?
-Would the premise appeal to a wide and inherently commercial readership? Or does it focus too narrowly on a specific corner of life, even if that issue is important to you?
-How would your story make the readers experience wonder?
-Imagine you have a gatekeeper’s attention. How will you describe your story? When you launch into your ten minute summary, will they like what they hear?
-Is this a story anyone can identify with, projected onto a bigger canvas, with higher stakes? Could you write into it the emotions you know, putting those emotions into a more extreme situation with a lot more at stake?
-Go through each of the following audience attractors your story could contain, and try to explain how your story would include them:
--Laughter
--Lust
--Adrenaline rush
--Bloodlust
--Power fantasy
--Romantic fantasy
--Pathos (something devastating)
--Beauty
--Cognitive dissonance (blew your mind)
-Is what happens to your characters exciting and dramatic, out of the ordinary, and most importantly, meaningful?
December 20, 2023
On writing: Developing the premise #6
You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on developing the conflict of your story at the premise stage. If your hero wants something, some other force must stand in the way. Your characters’ true selves get revealed when tested.
-How is conflict built into the premise?
-How readily recognizable is that conflict? The more immediately apparent, the sharper your premise will be. If people could hear the premise line and think, “I can see where that’s going,” or “I can see why that’s a big problem,” then you know you have a winning premise.
-How does the hero have an external foe to banish?
-Who (not what) is actively holding back my protagonist?
-How does the conceptual context force the hero to take action against an external antagonistic force rather than simply existing as a situation within the story world?
-How does the central conflict inherent in your premise create the greatest opposition possible, with the highest consequences?
-What big thing has to happen before underlying conflict can be talked out?
-My character can change, but before that she must go through what?
-Can you make the conflict both compelling and ironic?
-What are, specifically, the villains doing? Why? Because we need to care about it, be frightened or disgusted by it. We need to know specifically what are they doing, and why the protagonist cares about it.
-How does the opposition continually do something specific to become the protagonist’s foe, his nemesis?
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on developing the conflict of your story at the premise stage. If your hero wants something, some other force must stand in the way. Your characters’ true selves get revealed when tested.
-How is conflict built into the premise?
-How readily recognizable is that conflict? The more immediately apparent, the sharper your premise will be. If people could hear the premise line and think, “I can see where that’s going,” or “I can see why that’s a big problem,” then you know you have a winning premise.
-How does the hero have an external foe to banish?
-Who (not what) is actively holding back my protagonist?
-How does the conceptual context force the hero to take action against an external antagonistic force rather than simply existing as a situation within the story world?
-How does the central conflict inherent in your premise create the greatest opposition possible, with the highest consequences?
-What big thing has to happen before underlying conflict can be talked out?
-My character can change, but before that she must go through what?
-Can you make the conflict both compelling and ironic?
-What are, specifically, the villains doing? Why? Because we need to care about it, be frightened or disgusted by it. We need to know specifically what are they doing, and why the protagonist cares about it.
-How does the opposition continually do something specific to become the protagonist’s foe, his nemesis?
December 19, 2023
On writing: Developing the premise #5
You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on developing the main character involved in your premise, which will usually be the protagonist.
-Can you find a character you love implied in the story idea? If not, your story may be toast, and you need to move on to another idea.
-What character would be the best in the idea? Can you make him the hero?
-Is there one character whom the audience will choose to be their hero?
-Identify what the focal character wants to attain or avoid.
-What character’s serious problem and how does he try to get out of the predicament rides the plot?
-Can you make your hero active and resourceful?
-How do you make sure your hero has compelling contradictions?
-How is he someone who wants to unravel the story? That’s all a hero is: the character who has to solve this problem. You audience wants the entire story to come out, but they can’t do it themselves. Instead, they have to trust your hero to get to the bottom of it for them. If the hero doesn’t care, what is the audience supposed to do?
-If you are writing about rookies, you need to ask yourself why the audience should trust them to be the heroes instead of their boss. Is there a value to their newness that makes them more interesting heroes?
-Could you make your hero unhappy with the status quo?
-Are you sure the character isn’t flat and lacks a fresh edge?
-Would the protagonist be so strong as to be conceptual in nature (such as Batman, Holden Caulfield, etc.).
-There is a glimpse at how and why we will find this character or arena interesting (that is, conceptual). If she isn’t all that interesting, then your premise is already suspect.
-How is the hero compelling? How could he be by nature someone we root for, and like (not necessity, but it can help). How would he be associated with a quest with a specific goal, something that has stakes?
-The hero’s motivations are critical to making a story work. Why does he want to do what he wants to do? And why will we care?
-Try to give your hero an ironic backstory, an ironic contrast between their exterior and interior, and a great flaw that’s the ironic flip side of a great strength.
-How would this story force the character to show his true self?
-How is this story about a character who changes in a significant way?
-Can you make the character face his demons, learn important truths, cause readers to ponder deeper issues and themes?
-In what ways is your kicker tied in with your protagonist’s core need? Greatest fear? Deepest desire? How does his/her goal embody the concept?
-What does your hero need or want in this story? What is his or her “story journey”?
-How is the story about overcoming the protagonist’s flaw/misbelief?
-How do you make sure that you won’t write about your hero’s life, but about your hero’s problem? Don’t open your story with your hero waking up. Your story is not about your hero’s day. It’s about his problem.
-How do you make sure that your hero affects the events and the events affect the hero?
-See how this would apply: when the story begins, heroes shouldn’t know what they need to win. That’s the point. they have to go on this journey to figure it out.
-How is he trying to improve his life, not just return to zero?
-Does this challenge represent the hero’s greatest hope and/or greatest fear and/or ironic answer to the hero’s question?
-In the end, is the hero the only one who can solve the problem?
-How is your character’s overall plot goal a dilemma that will require the entire story to solve?
-How does he either succeed or fail?
-How does the premise give something to do to the hero?
-How is the premise the personalized antidote to his lie/flaw?
-Is the arc you’ve identified your strongest possible option?
-Does your story present a unique central relationship? For example, could you take two familiar characters and give them a believable but never-seen-before relationship? Could you take two very different types of characters and force them to rely on each other in an unique way?
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on developing the main character involved in your premise, which will usually be the protagonist.
-Can you find a character you love implied in the story idea? If not, your story may be toast, and you need to move on to another idea.
-What character would be the best in the idea? Can you make him the hero?
-Is there one character whom the audience will choose to be their hero?
-Identify what the focal character wants to attain or avoid.
-What character’s serious problem and how does he try to get out of the predicament rides the plot?
-Can you make your hero active and resourceful?
-How do you make sure your hero has compelling contradictions?
-How is he someone who wants to unravel the story? That’s all a hero is: the character who has to solve this problem. You audience wants the entire story to come out, but they can’t do it themselves. Instead, they have to trust your hero to get to the bottom of it for them. If the hero doesn’t care, what is the audience supposed to do?
-If you are writing about rookies, you need to ask yourself why the audience should trust them to be the heroes instead of their boss. Is there a value to their newness that makes them more interesting heroes?
-Could you make your hero unhappy with the status quo?
-Are you sure the character isn’t flat and lacks a fresh edge?
-Would the protagonist be so strong as to be conceptual in nature (such as Batman, Holden Caulfield, etc.).
-There is a glimpse at how and why we will find this character or arena interesting (that is, conceptual). If she isn’t all that interesting, then your premise is already suspect.
-How is the hero compelling? How could he be by nature someone we root for, and like (not necessity, but it can help). How would he be associated with a quest with a specific goal, something that has stakes?
-The hero’s motivations are critical to making a story work. Why does he want to do what he wants to do? And why will we care?
-Try to give your hero an ironic backstory, an ironic contrast between their exterior and interior, and a great flaw that’s the ironic flip side of a great strength.
-How would this story force the character to show his true self?
-How is this story about a character who changes in a significant way?
-Can you make the character face his demons, learn important truths, cause readers to ponder deeper issues and themes?
-In what ways is your kicker tied in with your protagonist’s core need? Greatest fear? Deepest desire? How does his/her goal embody the concept?
-What does your hero need or want in this story? What is his or her “story journey”?
-How is the story about overcoming the protagonist’s flaw/misbelief?
-How do you make sure that you won’t write about your hero’s life, but about your hero’s problem? Don’t open your story with your hero waking up. Your story is not about your hero’s day. It’s about his problem.
-How do you make sure that your hero affects the events and the events affect the hero?
-See how this would apply: when the story begins, heroes shouldn’t know what they need to win. That’s the point. they have to go on this journey to figure it out.
-How is he trying to improve his life, not just return to zero?
-Does this challenge represent the hero’s greatest hope and/or greatest fear and/or ironic answer to the hero’s question?
-In the end, is the hero the only one who can solve the problem?
-How is your character’s overall plot goal a dilemma that will require the entire story to solve?
-How does he either succeed or fail?
-How does the premise give something to do to the hero?
-How is the premise the personalized antidote to his lie/flaw?
-Is the arc you’ve identified your strongest possible option?
-Does your story present a unique central relationship? For example, could you take two familiar characters and give them a believable but never-seen-before relationship? Could you take two very different types of characters and force them to rely on each other in an unique way?
On writing: Developing the premise #4
You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following few notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on determining the designing principle of your story, and how it fits into the enduring myths of humanity.
-The designing principle of a story is abstract, the deeper process going on in the tale, told in an original way. It’s the synthesizing idea, the “stopping cause” of the story, what internally makes the story a single unit and different from all other stories.
-Find the designing principle, the one controlling idea, by teasing it out of the one line premise you have before you. Induce the form of the story from the premise: boil down all the events to one sentence, describing how and why a change has ocurred from the state at the beginning of the story to the state at the end. Ex., for The Firm: justice prevails when an everyman victim is more clever than the criminals.
-The designing principle is often about taking a value that we rely on a day to day, challenging its solidity and then paying it off with its conformation or its vulnerability.
-Regarding your tale’s mythical influence: Do the protagonists have to leave their home, metaphorically or not, to confront the source of a problem, then bring a solution back home? How is there a journey there and journey back?
-Does your story involve a journey “into the woods” to find the dark, but life-giving secret within?
-The overarching structure of most myths: “Home” is threatened, the protagonist suffers from some kind of flaw or problem, the protagonist goes on a journey to find a cure or the key to the problem, exactly halfway through they find a cure or key, on the journey back they’re forced to face up to the consequences of taking it, they face some kind of literal or metaphorical death. They’re reborn as a new person, in full possession of the cure; in the process “home” is saved.
-Monomyth: “A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.”
-The story is the journey the main characters go on to sort out the problem presented. On the way they may learn something new about themselves; they’ll certainly be faced with a series of obstacles they have to overcome; there will likely be a moment near the end where all hope seems lost, and this will almost certainly be followed by a last-minute resurrection of hope, a final battle against the odds, and victory snatched from the jaws of defeat.
-A great story is about a problem, not an ideology. The ideology is subtext. It’s about a person, your hero, who has something to win or lose in squaring off with his problem and his issues. An external antagonist (bad guy) who stands in his way. A journey to take as the battle builds, ebbs and flows, and allows the hero to grow into his heroic role and begin to act in a manner that solves the problem.
For far more on what was gleaned from worldwide myths in an effort to determine what stories endure, I highly recommend Joseph Campbell’s The Hero With a Thousand Faces, as well as the work done by Christopher Vogler to adapt it into practice for modern audiences, mostly in his book The Writer’s Journey.
Are you happy with your concept? Then grow a premise out of it. Premises involve a task to be accomplished and a character that must accomplish it in the midst of conflict.
The following few notes, gathered years ago from many books on writing, focus on determining the designing principle of your story, and how it fits into the enduring myths of humanity.
-The designing principle of a story is abstract, the deeper process going on in the tale, told in an original way. It’s the synthesizing idea, the “stopping cause” of the story, what internally makes the story a single unit and different from all other stories.
-Find the designing principle, the one controlling idea, by teasing it out of the one line premise you have before you. Induce the form of the story from the premise: boil down all the events to one sentence, describing how and why a change has ocurred from the state at the beginning of the story to the state at the end. Ex., for The Firm: justice prevails when an everyman victim is more clever than the criminals.
-The designing principle is often about taking a value that we rely on a day to day, challenging its solidity and then paying it off with its conformation or its vulnerability.
-Regarding your tale’s mythical influence: Do the protagonists have to leave their home, metaphorically or not, to confront the source of a problem, then bring a solution back home? How is there a journey there and journey back?
-Does your story involve a journey “into the woods” to find the dark, but life-giving secret within?
-The overarching structure of most myths: “Home” is threatened, the protagonist suffers from some kind of flaw or problem, the protagonist goes on a journey to find a cure or the key to the problem, exactly halfway through they find a cure or key, on the journey back they’re forced to face up to the consequences of taking it, they face some kind of literal or metaphorical death. They’re reborn as a new person, in full possession of the cure; in the process “home” is saved.
-Monomyth: “A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.”
-The story is the journey the main characters go on to sort out the problem presented. On the way they may learn something new about themselves; they’ll certainly be faced with a series of obstacles they have to overcome; there will likely be a moment near the end where all hope seems lost, and this will almost certainly be followed by a last-minute resurrection of hope, a final battle against the odds, and victory snatched from the jaws of defeat.
-A great story is about a problem, not an ideology. The ideology is subtext. It’s about a person, your hero, who has something to win or lose in squaring off with his problem and his issues. An external antagonist (bad guy) who stands in his way. A journey to take as the battle builds, ebbs and flows, and allows the hero to grow into his heroic role and begin to act in a manner that solves the problem.
For far more on what was gleaned from worldwide myths in an effort to determine what stories endure, I highly recommend Joseph Campbell’s The Hero With a Thousand Faces, as well as the work done by Christopher Vogler to adapt it into practice for modern audiences, mostly in his book The Writer’s Journey.
We're Fucked, Pt. 123 (Fiction)
Check out this chapter on my personal page, where it looks better
---
When I step off the Benta Berri bus at the entrance of the business park, the sidewalk gets crowded with commuters, from recent graduates, their backpacks emblazoned with the logo of their programming company, to gray-haired technicians holding laptop briefcases. The morning chill nips at my exposed skin. I inhale the fresh, crisp scent of fall air, but passing cars taint it with the acrid bite of exhaust fumes.
Golden haloes light my way as I head towards the bare trees, their branches etching stark patterns against the office buildings, or blending like blackened veins with the darkness of this November morning. If nobody had invented electric lighting, maybe we would still wake up with the sun; in dark and cold autumn mornings, we would spend that much longer in the warmth of our beds and our loved ones' arms.
Past the restaurant with a curved glass façade, its outdoor café terrace now deserted, I venture through the pathway that weaves between human-erected structures. The scattered, rust-colored leaves that crunch underfoot release the musty scent of decay. Like most mornings, the pervasive stillness reminds me that this zone isn't meant for living: it's where people come to die five to six days a week.
I turn the corner of our office building, that resembles a three-story-high shoebox. As I walk along the multicolored row of waste bins, a sight that has become familiar greets me: an assembly of bunny-sized alien slugs crowd the sidewalk in front of the entrance, spilling onto the parking lot. In the beginning they appeared as shadowy blurs; now, their black and dark-blue tints shimmer through the oozy, mucus-coated skin. Protruding feelers sway like anemone atop their undulating bodies, while underneath, six legs move in tandem among drips of tarry slime.
As a car maneuvers into a parking spot, it runs over several alien slugs, but instead of bursting in a splatter of guts, they yield through the tires like ghosts. However, can they interact with our native critters, slurping them up and, after digestion, excreting the leftover shells and bones? How long will it take for these creatures, maybe from an alternate Earth, to synchronize with our dimension and become visible to sane people? Will that happen before the universe teeters past a tipping point, causing space-time to fold upon itself like an accordion? Wait, isn't the number of alien slugs dwindling?
A bright-blue shape swoops down and snatches one of the slugs, leaving a trail of slimy droplets. The shape, a beast, swerves upwards with wide wings covered in bioluminescent fur. Its four legs end in kukri-like claws.
The beast perches on the edge of the flat roof. Jutting out of its head, silhouetted against the predawn sky, two pointed appendages resemble horns. A pair of round eyes radiate an electric-blue glow as they stare down at me. The beast glides away, disappearing beyond the roof's edge.
"Well then," I say, and head inside.
***
I step into the climate-controlled air of our office, to take in once again the sight of these white walls, cabinets, and desk, along with that gray carpet; they give the impression that the colors have been sucked out. The fluorescent lights overhead bathe everything in a clinical glare. Like every morning, Jordi has beaten me here: he's seated with his back straight, fingers tapping away on his keyboard. In this monochrome landscape, I'll avoid dwelling on his red hair, or anyone's copper mane.
After I take off my cardigan and hang it on the coat rack, I trudge to my chair and slump down into it with a sigh.
"Good morning," Jordi says.
Although a glance or a nod would have sufficed, I waste saliva greeting him back. As my computer boots up, I realize that Jordi has turned his freckled, clean-shaven face towards me. He's wearing a crisp white shirt with a point collar and the sleeves rolled up. Either his garment is made of wrinkle-resistant fabric, or he irons them meticulously. I picture the inside of this kid's wardrobe: a row of identical shirts and pants.
"You seem refreshed," he says.
"You mean I look less disheveled than usual?"
"If you want to put it that way. Did you have a fun weekend?"
I'm tempted to reply, "why do you care?", but after years of controlling myself around human beings, I'll put on the mask of politeness to conceal my depravity.
"You know, I've had a lovely weekend. We visited Mount Igueldo."
"Oh, the amusement park. I haven't gone since I was a kid. Sounds like a great date."
Jordi remains unaware that I abducted a girl from the Ice Age, so he must be picturing a couple of grown women taking a stroll on the elevated grounds of an amusement park, holding hands and eating cotton candy. It does sound like a great date.
"I used to waste my weekends recovering from the exhaustion of the previous week, and preparing myself for the next wave of stress to crash upon me."
"That's a bleak way to live, but you've clearly changed since you started dating Jacqueline."
I have, haven't I? My perception of reality has shifted: no longer am I alone in a barren void ruled by an insatiable worm, but instead, I'm tethered to two other beings who possess a universe within them. That's why I wake up, brush my teeth, shower, put on clean clothes, eat breakfast, and come to this hellhole before dawn without regret.
"I miss listening to her stories," Jordi continues. "During lunch break, I mean."
A twinge of jealousy flickers through me.
"I bet. She's mine, though."
Jordi chuckles.
"Of course. She isn't sick, right? She must be rethinking a few things."
Crap. If this kid has figured it out, our boss must be aching to stir trouble.
"I'd say she's come to realize that she's meant for something more than this job."
Jordi shrugs, and raises a corner of his mouth in a boyish smile. His allure, devoid of the hard edges and muscle bulk of a macho, may inspire contempt in men, but has the charm and kindness of a cinnamon roll.
"This is it, then. Please pass on my regards, and take care of her. I'm sure you're aware that she's more sensitive than she appears."
I'm about to give our insolent intern an earful about mommy's private qualities; this kid doesn't know Jacqueline's warmth, the weight of her breasts when she squeezes me tight, or the tickle of her pubic hairs against my face as I bury my tongue in her depths. However, I spot a headline on Jordi's screen, belonging to the front page of the Diario Vasco: "Two More Vanish Amidst Growing Concern." A cold ripple of unease trickles down my spine. I recall Jacqueline's somber tone as she informed me of these disappearances during a car ride. Left to my own devices, I would have remained oblivious: I shun the news to protect my sanity, and I didn't socialize with anybody outside of work. On the day of my first date with Jacqueline, didn't I pass by a demonstration and a counter-demonstration concerning these vanishings? Drenched in a downpour, those protesters' shouts were muffled by the drumming of rain while I huddled under my umbrella.
I picture a woman in her late twenties, her hair hastily tied back in a ponytail. She's burdened with shopping bags that display the Carrefour logo. As she strides across a parking lot, she steps through an invisible portal to another realm. Her foot meets the crunch of ancient ice, or the slime of those alien slugs' dimension, or the cracked clay of an endless desert. Maybe she has emerged in a world of ash and cinders, where the earth has been scorched black by a blast wave and the skeletons of buildings jut out like rotten teeth. Panic would seize this woman, clouding any realization that walking backwards could return her home. How many have fallen prey to these space-time traps while I fuck around without finding the reality-collapsing machine?
Jordi follows my gaze, then turns his head back to me.
"Leire, you've gone pale. Do these disappearances worry you that much?"
When I open my mouth to speak, my lower lip twitches. I force out the words through the knot in my throat.
"Maybe... I'm responsible."
Jordi snaps his head back. His freckled features have twisted into bemused disbelief. As he straightens his spine, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"What makes you say that, Leire? How can you be responsible?"
An accusation rings in my ears, echoing and swelling into a scream. I may be a kidnapper of prehistoric children, but I have never been a killer; yet, I have contributed to the ruin of those souls.
"N-nevermind. Forget it."
"Ah, you must be worried about it happening to you, right? What this headline, and many others, neglect to mention is these people were criminals. Later in the article, it reluctantly informs that the first of these men was a serial rapist who had been released, while the other was a drug trafficker. The way the media talks about them, you'd think they're describing model citizens, even though most of them weren't citizens to begin with. If only the media cared so much about the well-being of their victims!"
"S-so there's like... a pattern?"
"Sounds like it. I don't know, maybe they deserved to vanish. You're a decent person, senpai."
"Am I?"
"Of course! You're just trying to get by in these tough times. Now, you're even learning how to receive love."
"Oh, I'm receiving lots of love every night. Some mornings too."
"That's great to hear. Leire, these disappearances aren't your fault, not even in a metaphorical sense. But I shouldn't be surprised that you thought so: you've always seemed like someone who carries the world on their shoulders."
"Funny that, Jacqueline told me something similar."
Jordi offers me a sympathetic smile.
"Well, there you go."
I lower my head. Maybe this burden will sink me, and I'll make a dramatic exit out of a fifth-floor window while Arachne clacks her chitinous claws with glee, her body lounging on a cosmic pile of bones.
"I guess it's a lot to think about," Jordi adds cautiously. "Let's keep our minds on the here and now, though. We need to get through these tasks."
My computer is waiting for me to type in the password, so I take the opportunity to disengage from this conversation. The keys clack in the awkward silence as I fill in the password box. Program icons pop up on the taskbar, and the desktop clutters up with files and folders over the wallpaper du jour: a tropical beach at sunset, complete with two palm trees that cast elongated shadows on the sand. Windows ten is mocking me, I can hear it: "You could have spent the day in such a paradise, smearing coconut oil on Jacqueline's fleshy mounds, but instead you're trapped here, doomed to waste eight more hours of your limited life obeying your boss' whims."
As if summoned, Ramsés barges in. The muscle fibers at the back of my neck tighten. Although I want to ignore his presence, I'd rather avoid another complaint about "lack of respect," so I glance toward our boss. Same middle-aged man with combed-back, thinning hair and touches of gray at the temples, as well as a trimmed moustache. He reeks of cigarette smoke.
Why does he insist on tucking his shirts over that paunch? Does he want me to imagine it squashing against my lower back as he pounds me from behind?
"Morning everyone," Ramsés booms.
Jordi greets him back confidently; I mumble. Our boss ensconces himself in his office, separated from ours by a wall of frosted glass.
I load up Visual Studio Code. Its dark-themed editor window shows rows and rows of code, color-coded and structured with consistent indentation, for a shopping cart's Python backend.
Today I will raid the coffee machine until I start vibrating. Another mundane morning of programming website widgets, wasting precious hours that will never be regained, and risking permanent brain damage from a caffeine overdose. Ah, Jacqueline, why are you so far away? I want to hear your velvety voice whispering in my ear, your laughter rippling like a summer brook. But I don't have time to fantasize about my French shapeshifting girlfriend, that plump ass of hers, the toned thighs that she loves to wrap around my head, those pillowy breasts that she thrusts in my face as she rides me.
No, I must focus on my job, despite the shitshow that lurks outside. Hasn't it always been like that, though? I was born into a world teetering on the edge of obliteration; that bunnyman bastard only fast-tracked the debacle.
---
Author's note: today's song is "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" by Cage the Elephant.
I keep a playlist with all the songs I've mentioned throughout the novel so far. A total of two hundred and five videos. Check them out.
I had to find three new voices to produce this chapter's audio version. Check it out.
---
When I step off the Benta Berri bus at the entrance of the business park, the sidewalk gets crowded with commuters, from recent graduates, their backpacks emblazoned with the logo of their programming company, to gray-haired technicians holding laptop briefcases. The morning chill nips at my exposed skin. I inhale the fresh, crisp scent of fall air, but passing cars taint it with the acrid bite of exhaust fumes.
Golden haloes light my way as I head towards the bare trees, their branches etching stark patterns against the office buildings, or blending like blackened veins with the darkness of this November morning. If nobody had invented electric lighting, maybe we would still wake up with the sun; in dark and cold autumn mornings, we would spend that much longer in the warmth of our beds and our loved ones' arms.
Past the restaurant with a curved glass façade, its outdoor café terrace now deserted, I venture through the pathway that weaves between human-erected structures. The scattered, rust-colored leaves that crunch underfoot release the musty scent of decay. Like most mornings, the pervasive stillness reminds me that this zone isn't meant for living: it's where people come to die five to six days a week.
I turn the corner of our office building, that resembles a three-story-high shoebox. As I walk along the multicolored row of waste bins, a sight that has become familiar greets me: an assembly of bunny-sized alien slugs crowd the sidewalk in front of the entrance, spilling onto the parking lot. In the beginning they appeared as shadowy blurs; now, their black and dark-blue tints shimmer through the oozy, mucus-coated skin. Protruding feelers sway like anemone atop their undulating bodies, while underneath, six legs move in tandem among drips of tarry slime.
As a car maneuvers into a parking spot, it runs over several alien slugs, but instead of bursting in a splatter of guts, they yield through the tires like ghosts. However, can they interact with our native critters, slurping them up and, after digestion, excreting the leftover shells and bones? How long will it take for these creatures, maybe from an alternate Earth, to synchronize with our dimension and become visible to sane people? Will that happen before the universe teeters past a tipping point, causing space-time to fold upon itself like an accordion? Wait, isn't the number of alien slugs dwindling?
A bright-blue shape swoops down and snatches one of the slugs, leaving a trail of slimy droplets. The shape, a beast, swerves upwards with wide wings covered in bioluminescent fur. Its four legs end in kukri-like claws.
The beast perches on the edge of the flat roof. Jutting out of its head, silhouetted against the predawn sky, two pointed appendages resemble horns. A pair of round eyes radiate an electric-blue glow as they stare down at me. The beast glides away, disappearing beyond the roof's edge.
"Well then," I say, and head inside.
***
I step into the climate-controlled air of our office, to take in once again the sight of these white walls, cabinets, and desk, along with that gray carpet; they give the impression that the colors have been sucked out. The fluorescent lights overhead bathe everything in a clinical glare. Like every morning, Jordi has beaten me here: he's seated with his back straight, fingers tapping away on his keyboard. In this monochrome landscape, I'll avoid dwelling on his red hair, or anyone's copper mane.
After I take off my cardigan and hang it on the coat rack, I trudge to my chair and slump down into it with a sigh.
"Good morning," Jordi says.
Although a glance or a nod would have sufficed, I waste saliva greeting him back. As my computer boots up, I realize that Jordi has turned his freckled, clean-shaven face towards me. He's wearing a crisp white shirt with a point collar and the sleeves rolled up. Either his garment is made of wrinkle-resistant fabric, or he irons them meticulously. I picture the inside of this kid's wardrobe: a row of identical shirts and pants.
"You seem refreshed," he says.
"You mean I look less disheveled than usual?"
"If you want to put it that way. Did you have a fun weekend?"
I'm tempted to reply, "why do you care?", but after years of controlling myself around human beings, I'll put on the mask of politeness to conceal my depravity.
"You know, I've had a lovely weekend. We visited Mount Igueldo."
"Oh, the amusement park. I haven't gone since I was a kid. Sounds like a great date."
Jordi remains unaware that I abducted a girl from the Ice Age, so he must be picturing a couple of grown women taking a stroll on the elevated grounds of an amusement park, holding hands and eating cotton candy. It does sound like a great date.
"I used to waste my weekends recovering from the exhaustion of the previous week, and preparing myself for the next wave of stress to crash upon me."
"That's a bleak way to live, but you've clearly changed since you started dating Jacqueline."
I have, haven't I? My perception of reality has shifted: no longer am I alone in a barren void ruled by an insatiable worm, but instead, I'm tethered to two other beings who possess a universe within them. That's why I wake up, brush my teeth, shower, put on clean clothes, eat breakfast, and come to this hellhole before dawn without regret.
"I miss listening to her stories," Jordi continues. "During lunch break, I mean."
A twinge of jealousy flickers through me.
"I bet. She's mine, though."
Jordi chuckles.
"Of course. She isn't sick, right? She must be rethinking a few things."
Crap. If this kid has figured it out, our boss must be aching to stir trouble.
"I'd say she's come to realize that she's meant for something more than this job."
Jordi shrugs, and raises a corner of his mouth in a boyish smile. His allure, devoid of the hard edges and muscle bulk of a macho, may inspire contempt in men, but has the charm and kindness of a cinnamon roll.
"This is it, then. Please pass on my regards, and take care of her. I'm sure you're aware that she's more sensitive than she appears."
I'm about to give our insolent intern an earful about mommy's private qualities; this kid doesn't know Jacqueline's warmth, the weight of her breasts when she squeezes me tight, or the tickle of her pubic hairs against my face as I bury my tongue in her depths. However, I spot a headline on Jordi's screen, belonging to the front page of the Diario Vasco: "Two More Vanish Amidst Growing Concern." A cold ripple of unease trickles down my spine. I recall Jacqueline's somber tone as she informed me of these disappearances during a car ride. Left to my own devices, I would have remained oblivious: I shun the news to protect my sanity, and I didn't socialize with anybody outside of work. On the day of my first date with Jacqueline, didn't I pass by a demonstration and a counter-demonstration concerning these vanishings? Drenched in a downpour, those protesters' shouts were muffled by the drumming of rain while I huddled under my umbrella.
I picture a woman in her late twenties, her hair hastily tied back in a ponytail. She's burdened with shopping bags that display the Carrefour logo. As she strides across a parking lot, she steps through an invisible portal to another realm. Her foot meets the crunch of ancient ice, or the slime of those alien slugs' dimension, or the cracked clay of an endless desert. Maybe she has emerged in a world of ash and cinders, where the earth has been scorched black by a blast wave and the skeletons of buildings jut out like rotten teeth. Panic would seize this woman, clouding any realization that walking backwards could return her home. How many have fallen prey to these space-time traps while I fuck around without finding the reality-collapsing machine?
Jordi follows my gaze, then turns his head back to me.
"Leire, you've gone pale. Do these disappearances worry you that much?"
When I open my mouth to speak, my lower lip twitches. I force out the words through the knot in my throat.
"Maybe... I'm responsible."
Jordi snaps his head back. His freckled features have twisted into bemused disbelief. As he straightens his spine, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"What makes you say that, Leire? How can you be responsible?"
An accusation rings in my ears, echoing and swelling into a scream. I may be a kidnapper of prehistoric children, but I have never been a killer; yet, I have contributed to the ruin of those souls.
"N-nevermind. Forget it."
"Ah, you must be worried about it happening to you, right? What this headline, and many others, neglect to mention is these people were criminals. Later in the article, it reluctantly informs that the first of these men was a serial rapist who had been released, while the other was a drug trafficker. The way the media talks about them, you'd think they're describing model citizens, even though most of them weren't citizens to begin with. If only the media cared so much about the well-being of their victims!"
"S-so there's like... a pattern?"
"Sounds like it. I don't know, maybe they deserved to vanish. You're a decent person, senpai."
"Am I?"
"Of course! You're just trying to get by in these tough times. Now, you're even learning how to receive love."
"Oh, I'm receiving lots of love every night. Some mornings too."
"That's great to hear. Leire, these disappearances aren't your fault, not even in a metaphorical sense. But I shouldn't be surprised that you thought so: you've always seemed like someone who carries the world on their shoulders."
"Funny that, Jacqueline told me something similar."
Jordi offers me a sympathetic smile.
"Well, there you go."
I lower my head. Maybe this burden will sink me, and I'll make a dramatic exit out of a fifth-floor window while Arachne clacks her chitinous claws with glee, her body lounging on a cosmic pile of bones.
"I guess it's a lot to think about," Jordi adds cautiously. "Let's keep our minds on the here and now, though. We need to get through these tasks."
My computer is waiting for me to type in the password, so I take the opportunity to disengage from this conversation. The keys clack in the awkward silence as I fill in the password box. Program icons pop up on the taskbar, and the desktop clutters up with files and folders over the wallpaper du jour: a tropical beach at sunset, complete with two palm trees that cast elongated shadows on the sand. Windows ten is mocking me, I can hear it: "You could have spent the day in such a paradise, smearing coconut oil on Jacqueline's fleshy mounds, but instead you're trapped here, doomed to waste eight more hours of your limited life obeying your boss' whims."
As if summoned, Ramsés barges in. The muscle fibers at the back of my neck tighten. Although I want to ignore his presence, I'd rather avoid another complaint about "lack of respect," so I glance toward our boss. Same middle-aged man with combed-back, thinning hair and touches of gray at the temples, as well as a trimmed moustache. He reeks of cigarette smoke.
Why does he insist on tucking his shirts over that paunch? Does he want me to imagine it squashing against my lower back as he pounds me from behind?
"Morning everyone," Ramsés booms.
Jordi greets him back confidently; I mumble. Our boss ensconces himself in his office, separated from ours by a wall of frosted glass.
I load up Visual Studio Code. Its dark-themed editor window shows rows and rows of code, color-coded and structured with consistent indentation, for a shopping cart's Python backend.
Today I will raid the coffee machine until I start vibrating. Another mundane morning of programming website widgets, wasting precious hours that will never be regained, and risking permanent brain damage from a caffeine overdose. Ah, Jacqueline, why are you so far away? I want to hear your velvety voice whispering in my ear, your laughter rippling like a summer brook. But I don't have time to fantasize about my French shapeshifting girlfriend, that plump ass of hers, the toned thighs that she loves to wrap around my head, those pillowy breasts that she thrusts in my face as she rides me.
No, I must focus on my job, despite the shitshow that lurks outside. Hasn't it always been like that, though? I was born into a world teetering on the edge of obliteration; that bunnyman bastard only fast-tracked the debacle.
---
Author's note: today's song is "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" by Cage the Elephant.
I keep a playlist with all the songs I've mentioned throughout the novel so far. A total of two hundred and five videos. Check them out.
I had to find three new voices to produce this chapter's audio version. Check it out.
