Okay, this may be my shortest blog entry in history. [I was going to blog a very long tirade about BP, but I am having such a great writing evening after having had a cruddy writing morning and I am so far behind, that I don’t want to jinx the good writing with the crankypants ranting.]
I was trying to think (this afternoon) of ways that men express anger or do something in anger which is obviously, you know, furious, and maybe even a little dangerous, but which doesn’t make you (the reader) think “Oh, this person is crazy,” or “abusive.” There’s a fine line there.
Now, I’ve written a lot of male characters, and there was a very specific script that went out early that was told entirely from the male protagonist’s POV and everyone who got that script thought that the writer (moi, total newbie) was a male writer. (I’m assuming they weren’t paying attention to how my name was spelled. Or my agent had a little ‘splainin’ to do.) That script was about an ex Navy SEAL who was dishonorably discharged and whose life had spiraled out of control, until the point where he was framed for a terrorist act, and the only person who believed him was the woman JAG officer who’d had him court martialed, and wanted to help him, because she knew he’d been framed–for both the past and the present event. That guy? Really ticked off most of the script, but for some reason, in this book, I was off my game. Trevor (in the Bobbie Faye books) has a tremendous amount of deep seated rage, really, but we’re in Trevor’s point-of-view and it works, I think, because you get his perspective and you see his rage. In both cases? The guys had an outlet–bad guys to punch or shoot, things to do. This book? I have put Jack Thibodaux in an excruciating situation, where he’s discovered a betrayal, he knows that he’s lost ten years with someone he loved, and part of it is his own damned fault. And there’s more bad news happening, and he needed to do something, and not stand there, stoically.
Aaannnnnnd I was drawing a blank. Complete blank, as if I’ve never written a male character before, or lived with males, or met them. Really, it was sad. (It was so sad, people should send me brownies, to cheer me up. Yes. That sad.)
So anyway, I sloshed about, whining, moaning, muttering, griping, complaining, and then did the one tried and true method to Fix Things, Oh Writer Friends [TM].
Clearly, I need to do this more often. There were great answers. Although, now? I have to say that all these years, I have assumed that all the dents in the many trash cans that I have seen were caused by inept trash handlers. I now officially owe all trash handlers an apology for impugning their integrity. I had no idea that the trash can was the universal punching bag for Annoyed Guys, Anonymous.
So I want to open up the blog today to the commenters–and I want to know what have you observed someone doing in anger? Can be funny or not. Can be you or someone else. Unusual is good, but not necessary. And all of the commenters are eligible for a $50 gift certificate from either Amazon, B&N, Borders or Target. Whatever bakes your cake. 😉