November 2016

4 0 0
                                    


A creative writing assignment based on the book we chose to read over summer.  We could insert quotes from the book in our piece, which I did once or twice. I went pretty wild with this one... More details in the author's note following the text, which was also part of the assignment ;)

-------------------

Entry #1: Dear reader,

I know I'm nobody important. A lone, nameless apothecary, a mere background character, destined to remain dutifully walled off among my books and potions for the duration of the story. Trust me though— I wouldn't be here, writing these lines as if they might one day reach the eyes of a reader, if I hadn't something important to tell... Because I think my writer made a mistake.

Character, story, reader, writer, you noticed those words, right? That's because I've been granted the forbidden knowledge: I know what I am, why I'm here, why everyone else is here. I know our whole reality is nothing but a story, that our very existence is entirely dependent on our writer's pen.

With that I have all my existential questions answered, except one. Why would a writer ever do this to a character, above all a background character like me? What am I expected to ever do with it? Because one thing I know for sure, it's that my role in this novel does not require any kind of superior knowledge of the story.

Actually... scratch that. You know what? I think I do see one thing I could do with it... I'd probably be stepping out of the boundaries of my role, though.

I know I'll be meeting our protagonist very soon. I could go right on and explain everything to him! Then he could tell his friends... And they would each spread the word... Oooh yes, that would certainly be fun. A whole world awakened to its condition as a novel! Imagine that! I'm already laughing with wonder. My writer broke the fourth wall... I'll dismantle it!

Entry #2: Dear reader,

Well, what had I expected? The boy didn't even stay to listen. Two sentences into my speech I had already unnerved him, three sentences later he was hurrying out the door. I spooked him so much I'm sure he forgot half the instructions for that love potion. Typical.

But, vexed as I was at the moment, I also realized my idea was extremely stupid, and would probably never work even if each character visited me in turn.

I'm sure you've met a character like me before, and thanks to the all-powerful law of intertextuality, you certainly will again. My type of character is the turning point of a story, the beginning of one's journey: the character briefly encountered at the corner of a chapter, who guides, warns, prophecies, grants a wish. Sadly, my type of character is also the unheeded one— guidance misinterpreted, warnings overlooked, prophecies prompting characters to change their destiny, wishes uttered without thinking things through. A tragically misused knife.

So yes, the conclusion to this is that no one listens to me, or they listen to me wrong. Also, chances are I'll never even know how our encounter has affected Mr Protagonist and how things will turn out for him. My role ends here: I sold him that love potion, explained how it worked, and because company is a rare treat for me, I kept us chatting about the weather, the latest news of the town, an ancient magical artifact supposedly hiding behind the mountains. From the point of view of the story, my life is complete.

Entry #3: Dear reader,

I've started thinking this over... Really, I'm a bit disappointed in myself. I have an incredible power granted to me and no one else, and what's the first thing I try to do? Pass it on to the protagonist. So that he can live the story in my stead. I guess that's what a character like me would naturally do... But I will not let my power go to waste. How could I have overlooked its incredible potential? With it, I could turn the story around, I could save myself from fading from my writer's consciousness as the story progresses. You see, literary works are not democracies. That's a concept as laughable as thinking all men and women down here are created equal. One or two characters get all the breaks— the rest exist to get them to the finish line.

Short StoriesWhere stories live. Discover now