The many masks we wear

I’ve been thinking about masks. The masks we all wear to be precise. You see, we all wear different masks around different people. Take for example a character I shall call Derek Macmillan.

Derek is married with two children. He works in a factory.

His parents call him Derek, using the name often when addressing him. Derek never swears around his parents and even though he is in his late thirties, he would probably get a clip around the ear if he did so.

His wife on the other hand rarely calls him by any name as she has no need of such appellations, although she sometimes calls him Del when needing to speak to him directly (when she’s angry she calls him by his full name). Derek only swears in front of his wife when he is really, really pissed off, which gives the profanity more significance.

Derek’s son calls him Dad. Before he turned eight, he called him Daddy. His daughter calls him Dad too. Derek has never sworn within earshot of his children as he doesn’t want to set a bad example.

At work, they call him Del. He swears like a trooper at work, mainly using the cussing in the form of light hearted banter. He also says things at work that he would never tell his wife.

Derek also has a close circle of friends that he grew up with. To them he is known as Mac, an abbreviation of his surname. He has no problem swearing while around his closest friends, but he doesn’t overdo it.

To those who address him formally, he is called Mr. Macmillan. He never swears around people he doesn’t know very well as he doesn’t want them to judge him by his use of bad language. He also adopts certain airs and graces with people he doesn’t know, trying to make himself sound more eloquent.

So here we have one man with five masks in the forms of Derek, Dad, Del, Mac and Mr. Macmillan. Each name gives Derek a different personality, although at heart he is one and the same.

I guess this is why authors should explore every facet of their fictional characters, and take into account what mannerism they adopt when wearing each mask.

The essence of horror?

I was reading this review of my novella, Dead Man’s Eye (http://bookaholicdoesblogging.blogspot.com/2011/02/review-dead-mans-eyes.html) and it started me thinking about what the essence of horror is. Obviously this reviewer was turned off by the fact that people died, and she felt awful for the protagonist being in such dire circumstances. Now it’s not a bad review at all, just not that reader’s cup of tea for the reasons mentioned, but what is horror supposed to do? According to Wikepedia: “Horror fiction is a genre of literature, which is intended to, or has the capacity to frighten its readers, inducing feelings of horror and terror.”

So I guess in that respect the piece has achieved what horror is supposed to do as said reviewer obviously felt something for the protanonist to feel depressed by what happened to her. If the reviewer hadn’t felt anything for the main character, then the story wouldn’t have carried any weight, so in that respect the story has succeeded. But what do you as a reader think of horror fiction? Should stories have happy, upbeat endings? Do you mind seeing characters die?

So where do you think stories come from?

Well I’m a quarter of the way into my new novel, but there’s still a long way to go. I have a very rough outline, but to be honest, most of it is written off the cuff, so what happens in the story and to the characters is a surprise to me too. But that’s what makes (at least for me) the writing process so interesting, because I often feel like I’m an instrument whose sole purpose is to write the story down, but that the story is something that’s already happened. That in some respects it’s real, and that the words that appear on the screen have been channelled through me. I mean, inspiration has to come from somewhere, so who’s to say that in an alternate universe, the worlds and people I create don’t really exist, and that really I’m writing their story, not mine.

Another scenario: The creation of imaginary worlds or fictional universes is often called 'world building', so what if by writing about them, these worlds and people are brought to life in an alternative dimension? If that's the case, the author of the story would be a God who has given life to his creations. Thereby we could be someone's fictional creations. That would mean our God(s) would then be struggling authors too.

I just wish I could create my world in 7 days. And for the record, no illegal substances were consumed or injected while writing this.

So where do you think stories come from?