Read Along: Relatability

I remember when Lavinia (an amazing beta reader) finished reading The Stories Stars Tell and said, “What about Griffin?” and I knew exactly what she was talking about. There’s this scene (I’ve mentioned it before) where Tanner and Griffin exchange a moment and we get to see Griffin’s vulnerability. It’s a flash and so understated, but enough that I agreed with her. “Yes. Now I’m thinking about Griffin.” And I wrote the opening chapter of In the Echo of this Ghost Town—the fight scene that’s also in The Stories Stars Tell from Griffin’s point of view. The thing that made the whole endeavor difficult, however, was that Griffin wasn’t very likable, which meant, I had to look at how to address that, otherwise people would throw the book at the wall rather than read it.

After this week’s fifty page reread for the read-along, I noted 3 ways I worked out Griffin’s relatability.
In that opening chapter, Griffin is drunk. He’s not very nice outwardly to Tanner or Danny showcasing his stubborn streak and demonstrating what a jerk he can be. For example, when Danny offers Tanner a ride home, Griffin says, “He isn’t our friend.” Wow. Okay. Jerk move. But in contrast, there are these inner thoughts he shares that showcase how vulnerable he’s feeling. Specifically when he shares that he’s split in half with angry Griff “who adds scar tissue to protect the softer parts.”
Vulnerability, as a human trait, is very relatable as is the innate need to protect oneself. When considering my own life, I have the tendency to hide it to protect my sensitive heart. I would venture a guess that many of us do. That commonality connects us and allows us to look at Griffin then, with compassion and understanding (even if he’s a jerk).
The further we travel from that opening scene, Griffin opens up his thoughts to the reader. That second chapter in July starts with a dream where he’s adamant to both his brother Phoenix and his father that he “isn’t a good guy” and when he wakes from that dream, he looks up at the ceiling in his room and likens it to being stuck in a box. Throughout these first fifty pages, Griffin seems to have a sense that he’s messing up, but he also doesn’t demonstrate he has any tools to really understand why yet or even how to go about fixing it.
One of my favorite sections is when he initially arrives at the house he’s going to be working on with Cal. He describes it as “a dump.” This house and its journey throughout the story is a symbol of Griffin and his journey. When he gets the job and shows up, he doesn’t have any tools to work on the house, and is provided tools from Cal. Griffin’s lack of emotional and behavioral tools is understandable, and in a way, his ability to look more closely at himself, even if he isn’t ready to admit his failure yet, makes his journey toward complete self awareness more palatable to a reader.
While Griffin in these first fifty pages can be awful at times—like when he gets angry at his mom for bringing up his father—there are small moments when he shows a different side in relationship to others. For example, when he helps his mother make her lunch for work so she can rest. Or when he wants to do a good job for Cal even if he isn’t sure he can, or when he compares Max to a puzzle after considering he likes puzzles. The way Griffin acts outwardly is often incongruent with his internal thoughts, except for when little moments get highlighted with others. Just like that moment with Tanner in The Stories Stars Tell that sparked Griffin’s story.
For those of you reading along with me, I can’t wait to hear what you think. What stood out. What makes Griffin relatable if not likable?