The Edge of Now, and Its Gift for Writers
By Therese Walsh | October 6, 2020 |
Recently, a friend posted a note on social media: Tell me something good about 2020. “That it will eventually come to an end,” I commented, to be witty but also brutally honest–and that was before my county posted record levels of new covid cases this past week. Of course there have been some genuinely good things about 2020 that I’m grateful for–bursts of joy that take me away from the gloom of our time, like the bluebird family we fed this summer. And it hit me recently that the chaos of 2020 offers a pretty big gift, too, especially for writers.
Let me back up a second.
I’ve been working on an extensive metaphor about human behavior and how it can be applied to fictional characters for going on a decade, and taught a 90-minute class about it at the last UnConference and at a Writer’s Digest conference. It’s about the territory a character traverses throughout the course of a novel, beginning in their center, where they likely are at the start of a story, and ranging out, beyond their comfort zones, into uncharted territory and eventually to–and perhaps even over–the edge. Imagine it like an expanse of land:
- the center is marked with an X and sits squarely within a comfort zone filled with the people you love, your community, your home, and the landmarks of your life
- uncharted territory is outside of this known space, rocky and wild
- the edge can be visualized as the edge of land itself, the home of a beyond-this-place-there-be-dragons placard after which lies nothing but wild sea (It’s exceptionally windy here. You have a hard time keeping your feet.)
In the metaphor, the closer a person gets to the edge, the less predictable the outcome because that person’s will is less likely to impact an outcome. When a character goes over the edge, things are genuinely unpredictable, because chaos is in charge.
The nature of chaos is also important to keep in mind. It doesn’t have values, doesn’t have a center or family or anything to care about or remember. It simply is the sea and its many storms.
To tap into that edgy place in the class, I might ask participants to “Consider something you’ve done that you regret, that you would not do again.” The question should lead you to recall a time when you were close to or completely out of control–right at the edge or over it, with your feet barely clinging to their grip of the land or already wet with water.
Most novels bring us to one of two scenarios:
- The Storm Threatens. Some stories take protagonists right up to the edge; characters retain control but come ever-so-close to losing it. Consider The Bridges of Madison County, the story of Francesca Johnson, a housewife who has an intense affair with a stranger when her family leaves for a multi-day excursion. The experience drives her to new revelations about herself: I am the type of woman who will have an affair. I now know what it means to have a soulmate. I see now there is more to life. And she has a choice to make–give up the love/lover, or give up everything she has built including her family. And it was a hard choice for her, you know, the hardest choice of her life. She was at the edge, or in this case the bridge. Ultimately, she decided not to cross the bridge, but rather to walk back to the life she had built. She maintained control in the face of a true chaos moment, whatever you think of her choices, and that’s the point.
- The Storm Wins. Some stories go further, and the main character ultimately loses control to whatever end. Consider The Lord of the Rings and how Frodo Baggins–kind and pure–travels from his cozy home, out beyond food-filled fields that marked the farthest he and Sam had ever traveled up to that point, all in order to destroy an evil ring and save the world. After, they grappled with a wild, uncharted territory; and increasing doubts over Frodo’s ability to control the ring’s will to dominate him. Until he learns that even he is corruptible, as far from his center as he would ever be, by the molten sea of chaos at Mount Doom, where indeed there are dragons (well, ‘fellbeasts’).
Again, the bottom line to remember here is that the closer you get to the edge, the less in control you will be, until you have no control whatsoever.
And now I’m going to dive into something I didn’t touch upon in my class, so if you took it, grab a pencil!
The Strength of Tethers
Everything that leads up to a complete loss of control shows you something not just about a character’s goal but about a character’s character, and can even show you what they care about the most. Imagine that when a character leaves home they leave with multiple tethers attached to their person that span from wherever they are on the map and lead back to center. These tethers remind our character who they are and why they do what they do. But as they get closer to the edge, some of those tethers will break. In fact, due to the nature of chaos itself, our tethers may even tangle with one another and the weakest of them will give way to the stronger.
The strongest surviving tether reveals the core value of a character in a moment in time; it is that thing that remains even in the fiercest winds when we’re still in possession of our will, with our feet still barely under us.
What is the name of that tether? Is it called justice? Is it called freedom? Is it called righteousness? Is it called family? Is it called money? What is it that keeps that character moving, even in the face of tornadoes and hurricanes, their toes and chests and faces wet with chaos? Why do they persist? Why is the goal they carry worth this battle against the forces of chaos, even if they might lose control?
Let’s circle back to Francesca. The tether to fidelity broke first because a previously undiscovered tether to passion/soulmate/undiscovered self was stronger. But when she had a choice to permanently change her life, she didn’t cross the bridge with her lover. The strongest tether for Francesca was family and the life she’d built with them. (That Francesca’s adult children ultimately learn of her request to have her ashes scattered near the Roseman Bridge is a poignant footnote.)
We understand how simple pleasures make up Frodo’s core values early, and see them lost one by one. He has already lost his tethers to laughter and food, when he snaps at his dear friend Sam. Frodo’s most enduring, most precious core value is his utter love for and devotion to his home, the Shire, even after he realizes that he will likely never make it back. Then even that tether snaps as the ring and Mount Doom ask everything of him and he has to succumb to whatever chaos has in store.
Which brings me back to where I began this essay, with a promise that there’s a gift here, somewhere, for writers.
We’re at the edge, right now, most of us. We feel the chaos that is 2020 all around, and know how it has affected our behavior. And we can use that–and perhaps should use that–to reflect on what it means to be human.
Because this is it, my friends, the last stand of humanity; chaos and its forces take us into the realm of animal, as we struggle to survive, to keep our heads above water, to breathe.
So what does the last stand of humanity reveal?
The Gift of Chaos
Comedian Jim Gaffigan, known for his clean, apolitical humor, recently snapped some tethers after speaking up against authoritarianism. I’m not here to talk politics, but I do want to showcase how the previous sentence is supported by what Jim revealed, as he explained to his followers what happened and why on his Facebook page.
I feel a responsibility to coming generations, my children but selfishly I didn’t want to explain to my grandchildren that I didn’t fight to stop Trump. Maybe they will see that I stood up for decency, rule of law, and equality. That’s way more important to me than selling out an arena.
He also, over Twitter, mentioned that he’s still apologizing to his wife for all of the f-bombs.
Jim held tight to the tethers of “clean brand,” “apolitical person,” “expectations of spouse,” “selling out an arena,” “never alienating fans,” etc, before some event or new knowledge that he felt as a particularly strong wind compelled him to take a firm stand–both feet on that edge, toes gripping the earth–and hold ever more tightly to that one tether he himself named “decency, rule of law, and equality.”
And now we know something about him we didn’t know before. His nature is more defined. Because we can see his values, and we see those values prioritized because of chaos.
The gift of chaos is that it reveals human nature at its core. It gives us a rare moment to steep in it, think about ourselves and our neighbors, and who each of us are when the push of chaos winds comes to shove. Not everyone will behave in the same way, obviously; we see that, all around us. But that doesn’t necessarily mean what we think it might on the surface of things, as we are hanging on from our own vantage point at the edge, our own perspectives crystallized because we are in some ways as uncluttered of mind as we’ve ever been–all extraneous thoughts having blown away.
We know here what is important to us.
We know who we are, which tethers are strongest.
We know who our neighbors are–or at least we think we do, even if we never knew all of their tethers, and it’s harder to see them clearly with the wind in our eyes, and we may be mistaken on at least some of it; we don’t know the name of the storm they’re facing and can’t assume it’s the same as the one chapping our skin right now.
It’s a good time to remember that our One Tether, like Frodo’s One Ring, is uniquely held by us and us alone. And to feel compassion, as we can, for all of the Frodos out there who are trying and trying to make it through the storm intact, and to hopefully, eventually, find their way back home.
It’s a good time to think about humanity.
Hang on to your feet, my friends. Beware the wind. And if we do find ourselves in the sea of chaos, let’s look for one another out there, and try to hang onto one another as best we can.
Tell me something good about 2020.
[coffee]
These bluebirds may be the best thing about 2020 for Therese. Isn’t that fledgling cute?
Therese Walsh (she/her) co-founded Writer Unboxed in 2006 and is the site’s editorial director. She was the editor of WU’s only book, Author in Progress, and runs the Writer Unboxed UnConference.
Her second novel, The Moon Sisters, received starred reviews and was named one of the best books of the year by Library Journal and Book Riot.
Learn more about Therese on her website, and sign up for her newsletter to be among the first to hear about any new projects.
Something good about 2020: reassessing what has value in my life. This post reminds me that you and WU create a strong tether. I heard some of this material last year, but this year, so much closer to the end (and maybe the edge?), I hear it in a whole new way. Thank you for this clarity! Inspired oodles of notes. XOXO
Hi Kathryn, first, thank you for your kind words, and right back at you, sister. I love that 2020 has brought you that reassessment! I think we need that sort of clarifying heart-to-heart with ourselves now and again — a little like cleaning out an innermost closet, right? And I am so glad to hear that this post resonates with you, and had you reaching for that pencil. Write on!
Having heard your presentation at the UnCon last November (good grief, was it only eleven months ago?), I’m blown away by how you’ve deepened and expanded the ideas. Our tethers —like those of our characters—fray, tangle, break, and hold fast. I love the word “tethers” because it captures the quality of connection. A “value” or “motivation” feels very private and internal, but a “tether” also relates us to others, to places and events. It calls us back from the chaos, keeps us from tumbling off the cliff into an emptiness from which we might not return. So much to ponder in this amazing post. Thank you so much for this!!
Hi Barbara, I know what you mean about the 11-month time warp; it genuinely seems like UnCon was at least 3 years ago. And I’m more gratified than I can say that you like the expansion on the ideas presented in that session. “Tether” feels right to me, too, and I like that tensile strength can vary greatly (e.g. string, twine, yarn, rope). I started to explore the idea that some tethers tangle with others, can actually create breaks amongst themselves, but it was too much a rabbit hole for this post. (Still working on that book idea.) Thank you, thank you.
It helps so much, Therese, to think of my character’s wants, needs, conflicts in terms of tethers and which ones will hold in the end. Thank you for this post.
Hi Mary, I’m so glad this is helpful to you! Thank you for letting me know.
This year, I watched my daughter and her husband grow into strong grounded parents. I also learned that I don’t scare so easily any more. A third thing I’ve learned is that in times of uncertainty such as these, we reach for stories. We take heart at the courage of hobbits and housewives!! What a gift it is to have those tales. And what a gift to be a storyteller. I’ve used the word ‘untethered’ to describe how my teenaged MC feels as she steps into chaos, and as she unravel through the pages, I discovered along with her what that strongest cable is. Oddly, it matches mine. I’m so glad you shared this today. It’s brilliant. Thank you, Therese!!
Hi Susan, those are wonderful gifts to focus on. Ah, fear. I talk about fear a lot in my session on character, because it is such a wildcard. I love that you’ve discovered your brave. Thank God for stories, I agree. Without stories and comedians, we would’ve had a much harder year. I’m so glad that the metaphor resonates with you, too! Write on.
This is fabulous and has opened up a new line of thinking for my next WIP! I love having such a smart, insightful friend!
Hi Amy, oh, that makes me so glad! Mission accomplished! Write on, my friend.
Therese, I loved this, how pushing our characters to the edge of chaos reveals what they are hanging on to, what is their core belief. It’s a powerful metaphor. Thank you–and that baby bluebird is so adorable.
2020 has brought many blessings–a closeness to God, deeper abandonment to His Will that paradoxically is more freeing than anything I’ve experienced doing whatever I want. As a result, I’m closer to my family and friends, writing stories that bring joy. And just today, feeling very much affirmed in the power of prayer: “More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.” ~Tennyson.
Hi Vijaya, thank you for your comment! I’m so glad the metaphor feels true and powerful to you as well. And — oof — those bluebirds had me utterly obsessed all summer, and brought much joy. Write on!
I don’t buy that every story has to be the hero’s journey, overcoming the storm. 2020 is not a war or a storm; it’s a time – a season. “To everything, there is a season.” Some things have been taken away in 2020 and some things have been given. When it’s snowing in the winter, I don’t go swimming in the ocean – I get cozy, I read, I write. 2020 has been a great teacher about finding acceptance for the things I cannot change and pursuing personal strengths that can be pursued in this time.
Hi Ada, you’re so right that not every story has to be framed as “the hero’s journey.” I’ve found the metaphor to be quite malleable for all kinds of stories, including stories in which the protagonist stays within their comfort zones. In my session, I talk about the film “As Good As It Gets” and how Melvin Udall grows his comfort zone throughout the course of the story, for example. Thanks for sharing your thoughts on 2020, and how it’s worked for you, and thanks for your comment.
One of my favorite lines in my WIP uses the tether metaphor explicitly. The whole story is about the character wanting to break free of connections to people.
Something good in 2020: I found several amazing experts to vet the tral and fictional science in the story, JPL roboticist included.
Hi Jill, exciting that you’ve tapped into high-level experts to help imbue your story with realism! I love the framework experts can provide, and lean on those interviews myself, as often as I can. And I’m glad the metaphor syncs well with your wip, too. Write on!
Wonderful addition to the metaphor, T! As I’ve told you, no writing tool has helped me to understand Vahldan quite like this one, particularly in book two.
The tether addition is inspired! Today you’ve got me wondering if another character can be a character’s tether. I’m thinking Elan represents a tether to Vahldan’s true self. There’s a scene at the midpoint, where she lures him out of the palace, to a place that feels like their physical home. She tries to “tug on his tether,” to bring him back from a edge she clearly sees and fears. I’ve been wondering what it means that he resists her and why. How that impacts both of them. There’s so much to unpack for that moment, and what comes next.
Looks like I’ll be working this week, after all. At least the gerbil wheel between the ears will be spinning, lol. Thanks for everything, Storywhisperer!
Hi V, I have to admit to mixed feelings about inspiring you to work while on your vacation, but I’m thrilled to hear the metaphor’s expansion has brought up these new questions. I definitely see how Elan could herself be a tether, and how Vahldan might resist her for fear of testing tether-to-her v. tether-to-other, perhaps because he doesn’t know which tether is strongest–but fears losing either. Or he may have a sense which tether is strongest, but not like the implications. Regardless, so glad the post resonated for you. Enjoy that beautiful space, and hello to Mo!
Therese, thank you for this. Such a fantastic perspective (and such a fine tool for writing that I will employ immediately). Just yesterday I wrote a blog post about taking back 2020 and acknowledging some of the gifts it has brought me, so this post couldn’t have come at a better time. I’m going to reread it, take notes (both for myself and for my protagonist), and consider anew the tethers that are drawing me back to who I am at my core. I’m so glad I read this today.
Hi Erin, thank you for your comment and for letting me know you see immediate utility in the ideas. Makes me glad and grateful to hear. I love the notion of “taking back 2020,” too, so thank you for that — I’ll be musing how I can do more to feel empowered in my now. Write on!
Loved this when I heard it at UnCon and love it more now. “Beware the wind.” Yes, so important right now, along with “it’s a good time to think about humanity.” These two seem contradictory but are flip sides of the same coin.
As for something good — I have been on a personal journey of transformation and I’m physically stronger than I’ve been in many years…. about to run my first 5K. It’s been a good year personally, another flip of a coin.
Can’t wait to read more about this extensive metaphor!
Hi Julia, oh my gosh, how much do I love that you’re about to run your first 5k? (SO MUCH! Go, you!) The variability of perception is so, so important for novelists to focus on, imo. In fact, if there’s anything 2020 has taught me, it’s that there are sometimes more than two sides to a coin; maybe we need to trade that idea in for a ten-sided die! Thank you for being one of my earliest supporters for this whole idea. It means a lot. All the very best to you as you prepare to run!
Therese–I have done little writing in the last few months, but I am always living with my characters and they with me. There are so many parallels in my WIP where chaos destroys tethers, yet my MC continues on. And yes, fiction parallels our own lives and maybe unconsciously, for I have moved during a pandemic, made sure my son got married safely, and that my grandchildren are safe and well. Now I step back to see that so far I am not at the end of my personal tether, close, though. And these struggles do echo in my writing, my thinking. But you have brought it all together so concretely. I have not worked on my novel–but now I must go there with new eyes. We are living through a storm, but there are lights and rewards ahead.
Hi Beth, I think you’re among many friends in terms of that writing struggle this year. I’m working, but slowly. It’s frustrating, most days. But then I’ll have a thought and it’ll set things into place, and I’ll realize that if I’d been a faster writer, I probably would’ve missed X or Y insight, in part because those insights are often derived from this moment in history. Wishing you well as you refocus on your work. I’ll be looking out for those lights right along with you.
Thank you for this post this morning Therese.
The fire smoke last month forced my kids to stay inside after months of deepening isolation from the pandemic. This meant I had to dig deep for activities to pass the time. One that we are enjoying is a card game I played with my grandparents, hand and foot canasta. Another one was tracking down an anime I watched as a kid in the 90s, Lensman based on the classic science fiction books by Doc E.E. Smith. Since that movie was never released on DVD, I found it on Youtube. I got a kick out of it, because the recording was from the same saturday morning broadcast I watched in the 90s and included the retro SciFi channel graphics and laughable commercials for Clearasil and Enron. So yeah, sharing a little extra from my childhood with my kids is one positive thing this year.
Hi James, nothing says nostalgia like those old commercials, right? So fun. My husband and I both loved the Battle of the Planets cartoon as kids, and laid hands on the DVD, but I’m pretty sure our kids rolled their eyes over it! I was so curious over “hand and foot canasta” that I had to look it up. It sounds interesting! And now I’m craving Parcheesi–the game I played with my grandparents. Thanks for your comment!
This is a wonderful post, Therese. I didn’t attend your class unfortunately, but we’ve talked a little about these concepts together in the past and I think you’re not only onto something, but it’s brilliant. Great metaphors all around.
Something I’ve discovered about myself in 2020 is how paradoxical it is, being human. I’ve felt both extremely fragile and at risk, and conversely, incredibly strong and brave. Not one to lie down and take it. Not one to complain and do nothing. I’m a fighter, always have been, but I think I’ve come to understand what that REALLY means. A life-threatening virus as well as a virus on our democracy, have both revealed the strength of my tethers to my family and to my value system of caring for my fellow humans as well as using my voice for change.
What’s good about 2020? Uniting with my people in a common cause. The surge in the book market. People coming back to home and hearth, planting, taking care of what they have, pushing away some of that throw-away culture. The rise in awareness of climate change and the damage we’re doing on daily basis to the earth (and the proof we now have of the detriment of emissions). Comedians. I’ve never been so grateful for them. And posts like these. Lots of wonderful, inspiring, beautiful, soul-soothing, evocative posts that have kept the mind running on high. x
Next time you give this talk, T, I’m so there!
Hi Heather, oh my gosh, comedians. I’ve never watched so much comedy in my life, but those folks have saved us. How is it that I’d never heard of Sebastian Maniscalco before 2019? Brilliant, laugh-out-loud funny acts. About the paradoxes: Yes, yes, yes. Reality tests what we think we know about ourselves — our thoughts and beliefs and fears — and sometimes our test results surprise us. I’m so, so glad that you liked this post and have seen a little more of this idea, and I look forward to that future class, where we can talk more about all of it–and everything else! Write on, my friend.
This is easily one of the worst years of my life, and not just because of Covid-19 and the election.
And yet…
Now seven months isolated and alone in lockdown, I’ve spent the time reevaluating my life and my writing. Time alone has been time reinventing my normal and myself. It’s been a time spent watching a great many tethers fall away and finally recognizing the strength of the few that remain. Amidst the chaos, I’m stunned to discover gratitude.
Hi Christina, your comment gives me a lot of hope. I’m sorry for your bad year and whatever hardships you’ve endured. But I’m glad that even in the midst of one of your worst years, you’ve found a way back to gratitude. Thanks so much for sharing that here. Sending you many good thoughts. Stay safe and strong.
I love this post so much, T!
If this chaotic year had to happen, I’m so glad that it happened right now. COVID kept us all housebound just five months before my oldest moved out for college and right after she got a job at Target, which made her an essential worker. She had been struggling with depression/anxiety/and a great fear of leaving the nest and being out there in the world. Something about that “essential” term sparked something in her. She tapped into that knowledge that she risked something to contribute to the greater good, even if that just meant slipping a bottle of (liquid gold) hand sanitizer to a young mother with a baby before she started stocking the shelves. It changed her. She is now doing just fine off at school. Still working at Target. Still collecting hazard pay on top of already amazing wages for a college student. (I can’t say enough good about that company right now. They take care of their workers!)
COVID also slowed down life for my now 10th grader. She is still doing school over Zoom, but in her case it is working fine. While both children were home and forced to be each other’s only companions, they mended fences that were long overdue for mending and ended up closer than they would have been otherwise. That was amazing to watch.
Now that I just have the younger one home, I have a lot of uninterrupted time with her. I know the inner workings of my fifteen year old’s heart in ways I never would have if the world hadn’t shifted on its axis. I not only love her, but I genuinely like and admire the person she’s becoming.
If it weren’t for the chaos of 2020, I would not have had this TIME. It would have been lost to me forever.
Hi Kim, that’s a powerful story about your oldest. Circling back to my comment to Heather, these times have a way of forcing what we think we know about ourselves–including our limitations–to meet reality. It sounds like she is so much braver than she realized. I’m glad for her — and that she and your youngest mended fences. And that you and your youngest have this new era to get to know one another better. Soak it all up, mama!
Therese, this year-that-has-lasted-twenty years feels so unbalanced for me, with fear, anxiety and loathing too often tipping the scale. I keep returning to practices like meditation and exercise (and bourbon) which temper things, but then another tempest hits.
My tether is tattered; my writing has been unfocused and off. But I’m going to keep looking out for those bluebirds, because they do come, and they give succor to the weary. Thank you for your good spirit and kind care.
Hi Tom, scotch here, but I respect your choice of drink. It indeed has been a year that has felt like an eternity of unreality. I’m sure meditation helps with that. (My mind doesn’t easily settle, but “learn how to meditate” is always on my to-do list!) I’m hoping the bluebirds circle back this fall and winter, in part because we have mealworms in the garage, haha. But, yes, keep an eye out for them; and leave an orange out for the orioles and grosbeaks if you have an extra — they’ll love you for it. Be well, friend.
What’s good about 2020?
Acting/reading Shakespeare plays on Sundays by Zoom-meet with my international Shakespeare Twitter friends, and the deepening of my friendships with them. In this case the home isolation actually helped develop some relationships! (We’re still reading, btw. Lots of Shakespeare to be had!)
I love your metaphor and especially the concept of the tethers. It’s very wise! I can see where the tethers could help create continuity for theme and character development. That it’s a visual construct helps me to really understand because, although I’m a writer, sometimes words aren’t my best method of communicating, especially when trying to understand abstract concepts. Thank you for sharing this today!
Hi Lara, I love this Zoom-read of Shakespeare! (And weirdly I think Shakespeare would have appreciated it, too!) I’m so glad the metaphor feels true to you, and that the visual helps to make it more useful. Not sure why, but I’ve always thought in metaphors. There’s a book called “I Never Metaphor I Didn’t Like,” and I keep it prominently displayed in my office, because yes! Some Shakespearean metaphors, fwiw: https://www.nosweatshakespeare.com/blog/shakespeare-metaphors/ Read on!
Chapped skin is an apt figure of speech, Therese. Metaphorically, it captures the sense of being buffeted and whipped. All I would say in regard to your thoughtful, up-to-the-minute post is this:
For me, the idea of leaving my comfort zone means I’m in charge, that I can choose to leave, as does Frodo. But that’s not the case. My comfort zone has been blown out from under me. I’m old, and my center has been in place a long time–buffeted long before now, of course, but even after pointless wars and much else, still in place.
That sense of place and self has now been obscured. What seemed like a difficult, very flawed but idealistic incline plane toward a better future for everyone in this country has been stopped cold by an un-ignorable reality: almost half the American population is taking issue with me and mine. It can be fairly thought of as the second half of the American Civil War, with lots of additional splits and divisions added to the still central one of race. This divide has been in place for hundreds of years, but not fully confronted since the end of the first half of our Civil War.
If there’s anything to be redeemed from the moment, it’s that this confrontation no longer lends itself to being watered down or sidestepped. That’s both the unknown you speak of, and the edge. What happens next is going to reveal ourselves to ourselves–just as writers who are honest must face who and what they are in what they choose to write.
Hi Barry, I agree wholeheartedly with your “upside” to the downside — now we see it; the rock has been flipped over. Let’s deal with all that horrifically clarified ugliness. As for being taken outside of your comfort zone against your will, I hear you and think many of us feel similarly: We didn’t ask for this journey. Taking it back to story, I’ll reference the film Castaway. I like this example because the protagonist didn’t ask for his journey, either, and didn’t walk himself out of his own comfort zone. Rather, his plane crashed in a place that was not his intended destination — the ocean, aka “the sea of chaos.” It was not what he wanted, but there he was, and so he adapted and through that was changed. He held to not one but two tethers there on his island — his love for his girlfriend (represented by a locket), and his work ethic (represented by a piece of mail that he refused to open; he worked for FedEx, and the plane was loaded with packages when it went down, many of which washed to shore and were opened with hope they’d contain food, tools, etc). Years later, he risked all and was saved, and learned that the love of his life married another. But he delivered that piece of mail. Which takes us back to 2020… Be well, Barry.
Thank you, and do your own best to keep you and yours safe. I might say, though, that Tom Hanks’ “work ethic” has more to do with snatching up and keeping a talisman, a symbol of past order. And you might give some credit to that stand-in for human companionship, Wilson.
I like that, yes, a symbol of past order. And that actually syncs with the metaphor, too, because if I remember correctly, Chuck becomes quite ordered out there on his island in the sea of chaos. He used his memory of order to survive. Perfect. And, you know, I felt some guilt for excluding Wilson from my summary of that film. Thank you for pulling him into the narrative where he belongs. I love that even though he’s lost to the sea of chaos, Chuck has learned through him the importance of companionship and finds himself another volleyball on the other side of his personal storm. A restored tether. Thanks so much for your comments and kind words.
T,
Your tethers reminded me of a story recounted by the American psychic Edgar Casey. Casey said he was in a theatre when he decided to astral project. He did this often, but always holding onto a cord that appeared when he was out of his body. This time the cord was knocked out of his hand when someone in the theatre passed a note over his dormant body. Casey claimed he fell into a coma for several days–days he said he was in the astral plane trying to grasp onto the cord again. He was finally successful, and the moment he grabbed the cord he woke up.
In these uncertain times, death doesn’t hide behind cemetery gates that soften the reminder for us outside its realm. It’s on the news 24/7 reminding us we can be next, like a modern reenactment of Poe’s Masque of the Red Death, and those cords (tethers) that we take for granted most of the time don’t feel as secure as they used to be. We’re all out of our comfort zone, and it makes sense our characters will reflect that edge.
I’ve been working on a story that involves characters going over that edge you describe, and you reminded me with your tethers of Casey’s cord, and the possibilities beyond the comfort zone. Now, I just need to find the courage to let go and write, and your post is a definite guide. Thank you.
Fascinating story, B! I’m going to look that up to learn more about it. And I’m so glad that this post might help you back to your story, like a cord all its own, maybe? Write on, friend.
“We know who our neighbors are–or at least we think we do, even if we never knew all of their tethers, and it’s harder to see them clearly with the wind in our eyes, and we may be mistaken on at least some of it; we don’t know the name of the storm they’re facing and can’t assume it’s the same as the one chapping our skin right now.”
You said a mouthful in that one paragraph alone, Therese. These days, we have so many storms blowing so much trash-disguised-as-truth and vice versa in our eyes. I’m reminded of the man who drove to Washington DC to break up the child slavery ring allegedly run out of a pizzeria by Hilary Clinton and the Democrats. His storm of Internet sources swore it was true, it was happening right now, and it had to be stopped. You can laugh at him or scoff at him, but I feel compassion for him. He was ready to give up his anonymous life and plunge into the chaos, misguided as he was, to defend what he thought was right. A great story, in real life and fiction.
Also. love the pix of the bluebirds. Hope they’re hanging on tight.
Hi Christine, yes, I think we’re living in dangerous times in part because of how easy it’s become to disseminate false information that people can come to believe and act upon, especially when it’s repeated. I hope that sometime in the near future, social media is given a big chiropractic adjustment, to make it less addictive, less corrosive, and more committed to reality/truth. And I hope the bluebirds come back.
Hi Christine, yes, I think we’re living in dangerous times in part because of how easy it’s become to disseminate false information that people can come to believe and act upon, especially when it’s repeated. I hope that sometime in the near future, social media is given a big chiropractic adjustment, to make it less addictive, less corrosive, and more committed to reality/truth. And I hope the bluebirds come back.
One of the best things about my 2020 was reading this post. I ain’t blowin’ smoke. I love this approach to the character’s struggle in the story between who she has been, who she might become, and what the unknown (chaos) might demand of her. I also like the idea of tethers not just holding the character back but helping guide her to something new. This is incredibly helpful. Thank you, Therese.
Hi David, I’m so glad to know you find the metaphor helpful, especially considering your own comprehensive study of character. Thank you for your comment and support!
Something good about 2020? A deepening of friendships, a strengthening of belief in self and other, the paradox of time standing still yet the year whizzing by (thankfully).
I remember being inspired and thrilled by your presentation at UnCon. I see what tethers several of my characters in a different light. You’ve reignited an element of my story. Thank you, Therese!
Hi Brin, I’m so glad you can use the tether idea to supplement what you took from that session! And it sounds like 2020 has definitely brought you some gifts — especially love that your belief in yourself has grown. That’s good fuel! And I hear you about the strange quality of time this year. It always seems to be Monday or Friday at our house. Write on, friend!
Beautifully written, Therese. And I love the tether metaphor.
Thank you, Kristan!
What a beautifully written column, T, and that’s on top of the value of the metaphor. I’m going to be thinking about this one for awhile.
If you’ll forgive me riffing off your analogy, the best stories, IMHO, arise when a character has only two tethers remaining and must choose themselves which to sever.
As for what’s good about 2020, we’ve entirely stopped eating out and have lost nearly all the weight accumulated in the last three decades.
Jan, I LOVE your riff and think it’s true. I’ll add this to my master file on Territory, with many thanks.
Wonderful that 2020 has brought you a healthy gift! Be well, my friend.
Thank you for a great post Therese. I’m a sailor so lines and tethers are very real to me. But I had never thought about them metaphorically and their significance in story-telling. What holds you back? What can you grab hold of going forward?