[Agree, Official]
“Ok, Rose, I think you got as far as you are willing to go exploring tragedy. Tragedy is your Kobayashi Maru, you accept that tragedy happens but you're not willing to accept that you can’t do anything about it. So you just re-write the rules.”
“I don’t know what any of that means.”
“The no win win scenario, when the odds are stacked so far against the protagonist that’s the no win scenario. Beth never really had a chance against you, did she?”
“Well sure she did, if Lu didn’t have an informant network set up. If Paula, Salome and Juliet couldn’t help. All I did was some jumping and a little floating and some memory manipulation. But how did you hear about it so soon?”
“I have my sources, now tell me the biggest error you made in a plan that worked flawlessly, what could have turned your triumph into a tragedy. I know you saw it, because you tried everything you could at the last minute, to minimize the chance.”
“I never should have invited them into the tower.”
“Why not it’s familiar ground. You even started at the top of the hill, so you were using terrain to your advantage. You had the forest to hide your army. It seems perfect.”
“Yes, but if things had gone the other way, Opal was exposed. If things had gone poorly for us, I wouldn’t be able to protect her. Fortunately McCracken came home and offered to help.”
“Interesting choice of words Rose.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing, I just find it interesting”
“You always do this Sparky, say something cryptic, then make me drag it out of you, Gods, for once just say what you mean.”
“ ‘McCracken came home’, I find that doubly interesting. First, you now think of the tower as home. I’d hoped you would, but always secretly worried that the cottage in the woods would always be home to you even though you technically only lived there for a few days. Secondly that you're comfortable enough with McCracken to feel like he came ‘home’.”
“Well honestly home is wherever Lu is and she loves the tower. She felt the same way about the cottage as you do and designed our bedroom as the cottage with some pretty convenient additions, like the self cleaning bathroom, privy and the sideboard that delivers the meals and does all the cleanup. Last but certainly not least the dresser that not only stores our clothes, but takes dirty, stained, and torn clothes and restores them to their original unworn condition. The tower does all the tasks that women have been relegated to throughout history. As for McCracken, he’s been helpful, lately. I will say that when he first arrived, I wasn’t happy, Paula has been through enough. She is still struggling with the whole being fictional state of affairs. I didn’t want him to muddy the waters for her. To his credit, he hasn’t, also he treats Opal like a princess so extra credit there.”
“Great well that leads to today's assignment. This is going to make the tragedy stories seem like a piece of cake. What I want you to do is make a likable main character. I don’t care what genre or setting except it shouldn’t be a romance. It can have a romantic subplot but romance is your comfort zone and I want you to stretch yourself. Keep the story under five hundred words, because there will be a followup assignment. The final criteria is that the main character must be a man.”
“But, why?”
“Here we go, the push back. You’ve never written a male lead before it’s about time you’ve used your imagination. Come on get in the back and write. Likable male main character around five hundred words. USE your IMAGINATION. Get going.”
“Ok”
The Guard
Rami came here every Friday, it was the only day of the week that wasn’t hell on earth. He’d never had enough to eat in his life. He’s begged, and worked and stolen just enough food to survive. He’s never had a permanent home, a doorway here, an alley with an overhang there. But always the guard comes and forces him to move on. Rami hates the guard, but he’s also jealous of the guard, at least some of them.
The market place was hot and dusty, the sun beat down on the clay, and more heat rose. Rami was hungry as usual but for one day out of seven he could forget that hunger if only he’d catch a glimpse of her today. He heard the drum that meant to clear the way for her. He’d managed to get in between two stalls with no one in front of him. Today he’d have a clear view only a few feet from her.
Then there she was, her Royal Highness the Princess of Bagdad, Layali Zahra. Her silks fluttered in the heat and she was beyond perfect. Then she was right in front of him with her Royal Guard flanking her on all sides. Those dusky dark eyes above the veil, bewitched him. He’d been coming here for years every Friday just to get a glimpse of those eyes.
Disaster struck, some street enemy shoved him from behind, he’ll never know who. Probably Faris or Zayd, but it did really matter. His life was irrevocably changed. Hit the ground just to the side of her, and would have knocked her over if her guards hadn’t been as attentive as they were. Keeping her on her feet while grabbing Rami at the same time.
“We’ll have your head at sundown, gutter rat.”
“No, train him to guard me. He comes every week to see me. I’ll need devotion like that in the coming years.”
The Royal Guard were the elite of the elite. To recruit new members they usually pulled the cream of the city guard and the army. Suddenly a street rat was thrown into their ranks and they didn’t like it. If he only got one beating a day, he counted himself lucky. The only good thing to come of his new situation, he finally had enough food. It came at a perfect time with a sixteenth year growth spurt and all the training. He soon stood well muscled and tall. But still the other guards wouldn’t deign to speak to him. To them he’d always be the street rat.
Every once and a while a member of the Royal family would walk through the training grounds and select a trainee to replace one of their guards. If it wasn’t her he’d try to hide behind some other guard trainees. He’d noticed other trainees doing the same thing, they must have their own favorites among the royal family.
Finally he saw her enter the training ground, he shoved his way to the front, this was his opportunity, he wasn’t going to waste it. He stood as tall and straight as he could, had he worked hard enough.
“Him. Have him equipped and in my chambers by dawn.”
Hakiem the training master said, “As you wish your highness.”
He was done with guards who treated him with disdain, by dawn he’d be serving the woman he loved, had always loved.
Hakiem called Rami to follow. Flanked by two guards who snickered. They took him to the royal surgeon who’d prepare him for his service to her majesty. He’d never heard that there was a certain requirement for all guards of princesses and queens. Now he understood why some of the trainees hid in the back, when the princesses pranced through.
The End
“Well, did you like it Sparky?”
“I tell you, you don’t have to write a tragedy, what do you do? You write a tragedy. I tell you to write a story with a likeable male lead. You don’t give him one line of dialogue and then you make him a eunuch.”
“I thought you’d like the irony.”
“The irony, the irony. I’ll have to bolt my bedroom door, wear a chasity belt. Oh gods Becker can pick locks, I’ll need to flee into a book, a book you’ll never follow me into that’s it. Some obscure slasher horror novel, take the store, take the tower. You’re terrifying.”
“Cut it out Sparky, really did you like it?”
“He’s not likeable, he's pitiable. Seriously not one line of dialogue, the only thing we know about him is that he is hungry for her and food but the only thing he’ll be getting is the food. I’m afraid that this is an utter fail, Rose. But I did enjoy the story. I think you are just fundamentally unable to take instruction. Let’s try again, this time try and deliver a likeable male main character, pick any genre, setting except romance. Around one thousand words or more.
The Bridge
He strode onto the bridge. At the swooshing door sound, communications officer Lieutenant Cherry Ride, swiveled her chair for a glimpse of Captain Lance Darde as he headed for the center chair.
“Cherry, anymore chatter from that church convoy?”
“Just the usual sermons, Captain.”
“What’s it today Cherry, gays are bad or you shall not suffer a witch to live.”
“Neither of those sir. It’s about what a good guy Lot was, and how evil his daughters were when they forced him to commit incest.”
“Science Officer Mistra, how likely is it that a human male could achieve erection if he was horrified by the act?”
“Captain, It is very unlikely that a male would get an erection if he was horrified by the idea of incest. The "fight or flight" response to extreme horror and fear would almost certainly prevent this from happening.”
“Must be another of those biblical miracles.”
“Aye captain.”
“How long till we make contact with the lead ship?”
“10 minutes sir.”
“Attention all crew, this is the captain. All Boarding Parties assemble, be prepared to launch in the next fifteen minutes.”
“Mistra, target lasers on lead vessels engines. Let me know as soon as you have a lock.”
“Aye Captain.”
“I have a lock now.”
“If he starts to flee, damage those engines Mistra,
“Aye Captain”
“Cherry, open a channel.’
“Go ahead Captain channel open.”
“Lead convoy vessel, this is Captain Lance Darde of the Jolly Roger, heave to and prepare to be boarded or be blown from space.”
“He’s fleeing.”
“Fire, and keep it up till they are helpless.”
“Aye captain.”
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“Lead Convoy, shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded.”
Crackle. Crackle. “This is God's Sword we surrender. We’re on a mission of mercy delivering supplies to our Baptist and Mormon colonists, on Cati Alpha 7 all we’re carrying is food stuff.”
“Were you planning on sharing those supplies with all the residents of Cati Alpha 7 or just the Baptist and Mormon colonists?”
Crackle. “I’m sure the colonists are planning to share.”
“Excellent, order three fourths of your ships to follow us to the Free Port city, continue on with the remainder of your ships.”
Pop, crackle.“I can’t do that captain, we’re meant to deliver all of this to our colonists, I’m sure they’ll share it with the Free Port city.”
“Then prepare to be boarded, hope you enjoy walking the plank into cold dead space when I take your ship. Then I’ll take all of the grain to the Free Port city. I’m sure your colonists won’t have any problems, what with all that mana falling from heaven.”
“You win captain, three quarters of my convoy is now enroute to your location.”
“Cherry once the last of those convey ships lands at the Free Port city, set course for Sugmd IV fastest speed possible.”
“Aye captain.”
“Mistra, what’s your best guess for how long these supplies can keep the Free Port city alive?”
“Just three or four months Lance, do you have a long term solution?”
“I’m hoping at Sugmd IV we can buy enough algae tanks to get the city, producing enough food to feed its citizens, but that remains to be seen.”
***
“Mistra you have the bridge. Cherry you are with me.”
“Aye, Captain”
They get into the ship's elevator. Select the flight deck. Soon they’re boarding the Captain’s Raptor Fighter.
“Cherry, while I run through preflight, please contact ground control and request permission to land.”
“Aye Captain.”
“Lance, get used to using it, I’m Lance when we hit the ground do you understand?”
“Yes Lance, I understand.”
“If they have even a clue that we’re pirates, they’ll refuse to sell to us, where will that leave Free Port City?”
“You’re right Lance we have a lot riding on this, the good citizens have their lives riding on this. We’ve been cleared for landing Lance.”
“Alright, let's hit it.” The fighter left the mothership and plummeted towards the surface. Lance landed prettily on pad alpha 9.
“Cherry any information on the communication network about algae tank dealers.”
“Yes there’s a dealer right here at the space port.”
***
They were dealing with an ugly and greedy old woman.
“Well are there any other dealers planetside that might have them?”
“No way honey, I got a monopoly, I made damn sure of that.”
“But we need those Algae Tanks, I’ll pay top dollar, there are lives at stake.”
“Sorry sweet buns, I told you, I already promised them to a friend.”
The captain changed tactics.
“Well, I could be your friend.”
“How good a friend?”
“Cherry, go to the portside bar, I’ll meet you in a few hours.”
“Ok Lance.”
Cherry felt horror creep up her spine, what would the handsome dashing captain have to do for that ugly old crone.
“Hi Cherry, let’s get going, the tanks are being loaded right now. As soon as we get back to the fighter, contact Mistra, tell him to be prepared to depart as soon as the tanks are loaded and we’re on board.”
“Yes Lance, are.. Are you alright?”
“Sigh, yeah I’m fine Cherry, I just need a shower. A little shut eye. A captain has to be prepared to make sacrifices for his crew and their families at Free Port city. Besides, her three daughters were quite pretty, nothing like the ugly old hag we were dealing with luckily.”
“Oh, Lance.”
“I’m just kidding, she only had two daughters.”
***
“Captain.”
“Yes Cherry?”
“We seem to have an extra Algae Tank.”
“No, I bought that for the Mormon colonists.”
“You did, that was very kind of you.”
“Not really Cherry, I learned some things from that old crone trader. Did you know if you need to grow the faithful flock quickly it’s OK for a man to have multiple wives. In fact it’s encouraged. According to their founder he heard that directly from God himself. I wonder what else he heard from god. Hmm?.
“Oh, Lance.”
The End
“Well Sparky, what did you think?”
“I’m honestly speechless Rose.”
“Thank you Sparky.”
“I didn’t say I liked it.”
“You told me to make a likeable male character. I thought he was cute. Cherry almost twisted out of her chair just to get a look at him. The old crone thought he was pretty good. We can only surmise the two daughters found him at least adequate as they loaded the tanks fast enough. Mistra seems to like him well enough.”
“Rose, your characters usually seem more real. Lance, could you get more phallic?”
“It’s short for Lancelot, King Arthur’s knight.”
“I know who Lancelot is, Rose. But Lance just seems to be stereotypical.”
“You mean like every science fiction story written in the ‘golden age’. You have to admit those authors had some great ideas, but the male leads were either monks or my male hero. He saves his home planet twice while taking a shot at the hypocrisy of organized religion. Come on, what's not to love about that Sparky.”
“You may offend the reader.”
“Well ultimately the reader has a right to know what the founder of a religion said. I didn’t make that up. This guy made all sorts of crazy claims and people just went along with him. When he says God wants him to have multiple wives to populate the Earth. Seems like the wives having multiple husbands would get the job done just as fast. It’s always the men that write these religious tomes. People just fall in line with it.”
“I won’t debate religion, as we mostly agree anyway. Yes the golden age did have a lot of sexism, but hopefully we moved past that today, at least with the majority of authors. While I don’t read a great deal of romance I do read the occasional book and some of the paperback covers point to some objectification of men. One thing I know is that people only argue about stuff they believe, not stuff that they know. Chesterton said that and he was a devout christian.”
“So the more I argue about crazy beliefs the more set in those beliefs people become. So why write at all if you can’t make the world a better place.”
“All you can do is write your own truth. Aren't there any male that you look up to?”
“Well honestly you a little bit, when you aren’t teasing me mercilessly and of course Professor Tolkien a whole lot.”
“Hmm, thank you a little bit, I guess when you're not trying my patience to the last nerve. And you know Tolkien was religious when he was on Earth, I don’t know what he believes now. You wouldn't want him to read a story you wrote and be offended by it would you.”
“Sparky I know that my writing is not high art, but isn’t that exactly what art is supposed to do, to offend, to challenge, to make the reader, viewer, listener feel something. Isn’t it better to offend than to bore?”
“Boring leads to sleep, so no you do not want to bore unless you're marketing your book as a sleep aid. But that is a genius idea, the next boring book I receive I’ll publish it as one and make a fortune. Guaranteed to put you to sleep in five minutes or less or your money back. What will I do with all the money? OK Rose why don’t you try for one more short story about a not horrible or not stereotypical man.”
“OK Sparky”
The Miner
He got up everyday before the sun, kissed his wife on the top of her head so as not to wake her. The last thing before he went out the door, he’d stare with wide eyes at his baby daughter lying in her crib. He’d stare too long and almost have to run to get to the mine in time for his shift.
He didn’t like the mine, it was always so cold, and the cold made his hands ache. The rock dust he breathed in day after day, made his chest hurt. The heavy stone he lifted and put into the mine-cart hurt his back and if they slipped from his cold fingers and crashed on his feet they hurt too.
No, he did not like the mine, and he wasn’t very fond of the miners he worked with. Everyday after the shift in the mine ended, all the other miners would go to the tavern, to drink away the miserable day they spent in the mine. But he would never go, saying he had to get home to his lovely wife and their darling baby daughter. For this the other miners made fun of him. But he didn’t care, he'd rather spend time with his lovely wife and darling daughter then drink in the tavern. Besides he was saving so his daughter would have a better life.
He wanted to get her a little house, nothing grand, just a little house where the three of them could live forever. But for that they needed money so he never wasted money in the tavern. When the mine offered an extra shift or weekend work he always took it. The other miners called him cheap and selfish, always taking the work, he didn’t care as he didn’t work for the miners or the mine owner he worked for his lovely wife and darling little daughter.
This went on for years and the older he got the more it hurt to go down into that cold damp mine. But he did it every day, and he still took all the extra shifts whenever they became available. Because he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, in just a few short weeks, they’d have the money for the house. He’d spend more time with the daughter he loved so dearly that he spent all that time in the mine hurting.
He was so proud of his little girl, no longer so little already in school. Gifted a teacher told him, she knew her ABC’s before school even started, thanks to her mother who always made time for the girl. So reading was a breeze then she took to writing. The teacher was so impressed, she worked so hard. When the teacher asked her, How did you ever learn to work so hard? The answer was simple really. I learned from my Dad, he gets up every day and goes down into that mine so that he can buy a house for my ma and me and him.
The teacher asked the little girl to write something and if he liked it he promised she could read it in front of the whole school.
Her Dad had made arrangements to buy a house on the very last day of the week, payday. He would have just enough money, it was a longer walk to the mine, but that didn’t matter because it was in a better neighborhood and had two bedrooms, one for him and his lovely wife and one for their darling daughter.
The last day of the week, the teacher told the girl, he loved what she wrote and that her parents should be proud. She read the story to the whole school, it was about the best man she knew, the hardest worker. The best miner in the world. She couldn’t wait to read it to him tonight.
He was happy to go to the mine that day, it was still going to hurt, each and every part of his body but today was the day all this work was going to pay off. He couldn’t wait to get done with work so he could show his lovely wife and darling daughter their new house.
But there was a shaking of the ground, we never found out if it was an earthquake or an explosion deep deep within the mine. He stood under a beam, trying to hold it up. Thirty miners were deeper down the shaft then he. He shouted for them to hurry because he wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. Thirty men made it past him and a few even stopped to help him. He’d saved the miners he’d never liked, but as soon as he let go of the beam, the mine collapsed on him.
The mine owner himself came to where they lived and told the lovely wife and darling daughter that their husband and father had saved the thirty men. The men took up a collection and the mine owner put in money as a pension for the lovely wife and darling daughter.
The next day they moved into their new house, it took a week for them to dig out his body, it was under so much stone. They held a funeral and said goodbye, and cried and cried. Then they lived in the house he’d worked so hard for and they thought of him every day. The lovely wife and the darling daughter. That miners name was William Ryding.
The End
“Here Sparky, I wrote about the best man I've ever known. I hope you like it, but even if you don’t I do.”
