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Finches III

Now this was a pain to debug. It's the longest portion of the stories set in the world of Finches -- I predicted it'd be around 6,000 words when I first worked on it, but the last scene just wouldn't end. The piece was full of hard angles to work through, just way too many scenes where the action didn't quite glide along as it should, or the characters were uncertain on what they were about. Unlike the previous two chapters, the protagonist in this piece is a woman.

I often worry that whenever I write women, they come out as these sentimental headcases I'd end up disliking, had they been real. Inevitably, they do end up as such. The same is true for characters of both genders I write, but the women among them are the most annoying. I don't exactly know if disliking my characters means I've written them well -- I often highly doubt my claims to good writing because I'm also the same person who has to debug it. I have to hope the misanthropy kicked in because my characters were believable, which probably isn't the best way to go gauging the believability of one's characters, I don't think.

There's a Buddhist nun and an apparently Muslim bomoh wandering around in my story. I sincerely, utterly, totally, truly, very much hope I didn't get the former too off the mark. Wandering Buddhist nun exorcists are a subject I've only ever heard second hand. I had to willfully stop myself from going TVB Journey to the West with the character, or any other TVB drama for that matter. The only real wandering exorcist nun I'd heard about came from a late friend of the family, who'd hired one many years ago. The lady informed her that her home was full of the spirits of WWII Japanese soldiers. As I recall, Auntie Ad had quite the worst of it living there. Things grabbing her legs in the kitchen and the bathroom she'd have to stab away. Peculiar feelings of things watching her all the time. Male voices behind her back. I'd only been to her house a handful of times, at most. I remember they had a problem with red ants, as many houses between the sea and reclaimed palm oil estates would have. I had a nap on their living room carpet. When I woke up, I realized I'd slept right next to a trail of ants that went from one end of the living room, followed the perimeter of their carpet, and extended to the garden. The haunting of that house eventually became the template for the haunting in this story, though I never did see or feel any ghosts there.

I don't even want to think about how grievously long the word count for this story is either. Where am I ever going to find a place for it?

Title: Mothers & Wives
Words: 7,896
Finished: 09/09/07
Time Since Inception: 1 year, with debugging



Sep. 11th, 2007 06:59 am (UTC)
I have sent it to your email. :)