Not Action, Reaction

People be weird, folks. This has been a week of seeing people reacting in the oddest ways to things. It got me thinking about what seemed truly baffling responses to situations from people I’ve met. And of course it makes me wonder how I would react in similar circumstances.

It began when I was watching an episode of Phroggers on TV a couple of nights ago. A phrogger, you’ll be horrified to learn. is someone who makes himself at home in someone else’s attic or a secret room. The actual tenant has no idea that someone else is hiding in their home, and only become aware when things start going missing.

This sweet young thing left home to go to college. She found an apartment and moved in. Then her underwear started to go missing. And her bikini bottoms. Then her phone vanished. She started to get heavy breathing phone calls. And despite all of this, it never occurred to her to investigate or report these incidents to anyone. She did, at least, get a dog, but she was freaked out when the dog barked at the closet. Guess what she did next…

Nothing.

Eventually, the apartment complex had to do some electrical work, and found a lair in her attic. Her missing underwear and so on were there. Also found were a knife, and some creepy photos of her. It turned out that a man had been spying on her for months. She was very lucky his behaviour didn’t escalate.

Then there’s the case of Ted Kaczynski, the so-called Unibomber. His bombing activities came to an end when he demanded newspapers printed his ‘manifesto’. The writing was identified by Ted’s brother.

Can you imagine how that poor brother felt? What would you do in his shoes? The brother went to the FBI and turned Ted in. It was a brave thing to do, but it can’t have been easy.

A few years ago I worked with a woman who had an unusual last name. I asked her if she had any relationship to a famous Irish poet who shared her name, and who had died in WWI. It transpired that he was her grandmother’s brother. I was excited and asked how the family remembered him. Did they have his papers? Did she have a favourite poem of his. She seemed baffled. No, she said, she’d never read any of his poems. OK, I’m a writer, so for me it would be a big deal to have a famous, albeit minor, poet in the family. But my colleague seemed as bewildered by my enthusiasm as I was by her indifference.

Perhaps it depends on where our interests lie. A scientist might be more excited about being distantly related to Isaac Newton, while an artist might thrill to a connection with Van Gogh, for instance.

The way people react to things is the meat and potatoes of fiction. Sometimes, when we write, we think our characters will react as we would to certain circumstances, but as you can see from these illustrations, people are, again, weird. Think about the following scenarios and how you would react. Then check with your friends, and see how their responses vary from yours:

Scenario One

You discover that you are related to someone who had a remarkable life. He was, let’s say, a war hero. He saved dozens of lives. He founded a charity that continues to help people. A film was made of his life. What’s your reaction, or that of your friends?

Indifference. After all, this happened a long time ago, and it’s nothing to do you with.

Curiosity. You want to know more. You talk to relatives who remember him.

Obsession. You want to know everything about him, and plan to write a biography of him.

Other. Something that is none of the above. Perhaps you’re angered that this person stole all the glory you were hoping to keep for yourself. Or maybe you’re sceptical about all the stories you’ve heard.

Scenario Two

This is the opposite. You discover that you have a direct connection with someone notorious. A serial killer, or a cult leader, perhaps. Maybe it’s someone who committed treason. How do you react to this?

Denial. He’s nothing to do with you. Just pretend the connection doesn’t exist.

Denial II. He was innocent. The evidence against him was tainted. You are determined to prove it.

Fear. You’re worried that some of his evil traits might be genetic. What if you are evil too?

Fear II. You worry that relatives of this man’s victims might seek you out for revenge.

Fascination. Yes, it’s awful but… maybe exciting too. After all, fame is fame. Right?

Obsession. You want to know everything you can about Uncle Charlie, or Cousin Ted.

Indifference. So what? He’s long dead and nothing to you.

As a writer you can make a story out of nearly all of these reactions. Reactions are, you might say, the seeds of fiction. The only one that might pose a problem is indifference. Even then, you could have a friend who is more fascinated than you are, and their reaction is what drives the story.

Think about some of the events in your own life, how you reacted, and what you might, now, do differently. Let me know how you get on.

[image error]Pexels.com" data-medium-file="https://rycardus.wordpress.com/wp-con..." data-large-file="https://rycardus.wordpress.com/wp-con..." width="1880" height="1253" src="https://rycardus.wordpress.com/wp-con..." alt="" class="wp-image-18076" srcset="https://rycardus.wordpress.com/wp-con... 1880w, https://rycardus.wordpress.com/wp-con... 150w, https://rycardus.wordpress.com/wp-con... 300w, https://rycardus.wordpress.com/wp-con... 768w, https://rycardus.wordpress.com/wp-con... 1024w" sizes="(max-width: 1880px) 100vw, 1880px" />Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com