30
“You really made this look like we’re hunting serial killers Danny.” Samuel leans in close to the board, his finger tracing the outline of a red string from one side of the board.
To be fair, maybe I should have used a color other than red for this exercise.
Niall and I had spent most of a slow Sunday at the book pub putting the board together, Hughie cutting out the different length strings at our direction.
The board, at first, looked too busy, the plot lines and characters too broken out.
We ended up redoing the board, leaning more into the plot holes and, more specifically, the ending.
Lily drops her printed out copy of the manuscript on an empty table. Most of the class took to mocking up notes on their laptops and iPads, but Lily had thought it was more authentic to have an actual hard copy.
“We have a missing section right before the end of Part 1, the resolution of the final battle, and how this thing actually ends to figure out. I say let’s tackle the final battle first.”
Niall steps away, assisting a customer waiting at the counter. “Right. Now, I know Michael wrote, rewrote, deleted, and rewrote this part multiple times. I’m surprised there wasn’t one of the versions still in the draft.”
“Do you recall any of the details?”
I turn to Noah, who tacks a note card on the board.
Someone dies. “There isn’t enough conflict going into the final battle.
I mean, not enough emotional conflict. The reader has been building to this very moment and expects a gut punch.
We’ve all read enough books and watched enough films where they are placated to the happy ending.
This book should not have a happy ending. ”
“Why?” Lily asks. “Sometimes a reader wants the happy ending. They pick up the book to escape a shit world. Why can’t we give that to them?”
“Because,” Noah looks from Lily to me, “hmm. I don’t want to sound brash, or maybe inconsiderate. But Michael didn’t get his happy ending, so why should his characters? It’s unfair to him.”
The group solemnly nods, their attention anywhere else but me. But, at the same time, I can sense they are waiting for me to respond, to give my approval.
“I think that makes sense. And, you’re right. There are far too many stories that culminate in this big, grand event. And then you’re ultimately just let down because it’s unrealistic.”
“Or they kill off characters you don’t really care about. Or, even worse, the obvious ones.” Delilah tacks a note card under Noah’s. Teddy?
Lily laughs. “You can’t kill off the main character.”
Delilah turns from the board. “And why not?”
“Because it messes up the ending. We know we need a final chapter or two, or an epilogue after this scene. Which will be tough if the main character is dead.”
“Unless,” Niall says, rejoining the group, “the epilogue is from another character’s perspective.”
“That’s brilliant,” Samuel says, adding a third card to the board. Epilogue / Who survives?
Lily’s flipping through the character chart she had created for all of us, how they all relate back to the main character. We stand around the board, debating the importance of each hero and villain of the story. And, in the end, we have the characters ranked.
One or more that needs to be killed off.
Who should live and who should die.
Who the reader won’t care lives or dies.
There are three names in the first group. Teddy, the main character. Felix, the love interest. Adrian, the main villain.
“Alright, I think that’s enough for today. Extra credit assignment is to bring your argument for who should live and who should die for the next time we meet.” I point over to the bar. “But good work today. Let’s have a pint to celebrate.”
* * *
Later I’m back in the apartment and logging into my session with Dr. Chandler. I am greeted by a cat’s starfish staring at me.
“Jesus!” I say, looking away from the camera.
“Sorry, sorry,” Dr. Chandler says, removing the cat from camera view. “Patches doesn’t know how to behave appropriately, and thinks everyone wants to see his butthole. Well, now that I’m thinking about it, he’s behaving just like any cat would.”
“And how did Patches get his name?
Dr. Chandler smiles. “A group of us went down to Florida after a hurricane and participated in a Habitat for Humanity build. They put us up in this old camp. Was not a fan of the spider situation in the barracks. Was a huge fan of Patches here. We think he was displaced after the hurricane, looking worse for wear. Hence the name Patches. So, I took him home.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Ehh, I was just looking for an excuse to get a cat. I had kicked my ex to the curb and needed a new roommate.” She stops to take a sip of, what I suspect, is tea. “Tell me how things are going with you.”
I jump into the latest with Niall, which Dr. Chandler had warned me to be patient with.
She advised that jumping into a relationship during grief, especially with someone going through the same tragedy, could give false feelings.
But, over the weeks, she seems to have warmed up to the idea of Niall and I.
I also bring her up to speed with the work being done on the novel.
“And, going through Michael’s work so closely, you have been doing fine? It’s not triggering any panic attacks, and you’re finding enjoyment in it all?”
I nod. “I think the class has helped a lot, how invested they are. They bring a lot to the table idea wise.”
“When you first told me about the book, and how the class suggested working on it together…I’ll admit it.
I was a bit jealous. I do some teaching on the side and I’ve had some real shit classes over the years.
And the ones that aren’t are just…fine? You’ve been through a lot, and you couldn’t have asked for a better group of students in this random semester teaching abroad. ”
She stops to jot some notes, tapping her pen against the pad. “What’s the hang up with the book?”
I go over the remaining items being worked out, the homework the kids have going into the next week. Some of the ideas pitched.
The pen stops tapping. “And you’re okay with this? The whole concept of killing off some of the characters Michael worked on for years. It would be okay, you know, if you weren’t okay. And you should be vocal about it if you aren’t.”
“I think it’s right for the story. I don’t think Michael would want a story with a tidy bow and happily ever after. But…I also think he was hesitant to do it himself. And that’s why the story sat unfinished for as long as it has. I think we owe it to him to get it right.”
“To stick the landing.”
I laugh. “Exactly.”
She pauses, looking away from the camera. “So, we have just a few minutes left. How are you doing with being away for Thanksgiving this year?”
It’s something I have thought about a few times. I’ve never been away during the holiday, always with family and most of the time with friends.
“I mean I’ll be a little bummed about it. Who doesn’t want to have a mountain of food, plentiful pies, and just fucking veg in front of the TV debating what your next snack is going to be.”
Dr. Chandler laughs. “My sister tried to ruin Thanksgiving last year.”
“Go on.”
“Well, we have always had a very traditional Thanksgiving meal. It’s been that way since I was a kid and my sister continued this when she started hosting. But last year she married a vegetarian.”
“Oh no.”
“Yup. I think you know what’s coming.”
“Tofu turkey.”
She nods. “Exactly. And she did this without warning, and not supplying a backup main meal option. Diabolical if you ask me. And, yes. It was as bad as you can imagine.”
“I think it could have been worse.”
She squints at the screen. “Please. Enlighten me on what is worse than tofu turkey.”
“Now, have you ever seen the tv show Extreme Cheapskates?” She shakes her head.
“So, the premise of this show is people who find the most ridiculous ways to save money. Things that you or I wouldn’t ever think to do.
Standing fully clothed in the shower to wash their clothes, using reusable toilet paper—”
“That’s foul.”
“Exactly. So, this one episode was focused on a mother hosting Thanksgiving, or maybe it was another party but a turkey was necessary. She went to this discount grocery outlet and bought a bunch of out-of-date ground chicken and random pieces of chicken and turkey. She proceeded to Frankenstein it together in what she thought looked like a turkey and served it as the meal.”
“No. Did people actually eat it?”
“Some. Most not. It looks absolutely heinous.”
Dr. Chandler shutters. “Well, luckily that’s the end of our time so I don’t have to hear something worse than that.
Try and have a happy Thanksgiving Daniel.
You might not be able to duplicate Thanksgiving in Dublin, but find something that reminds you of being home for the holiday.
It could be just having one of the side dishes or making a pumpkin pie. Do something for you, okay?”
“Understood doc. Happy Thanksgiving.”