Daily prompt: It builds character

Tags

books, characters, postaday2013, writing

Tell us about a favorite character from film, theater, or literature, with whom you’d like to have a heart-to-heart. What would you talk about?

When I was a young girl Anne of Green Gables was one of my favorites as was Nancy Drew. They both exhibited the character traits that appealed to me most, intellectual curiosity, compassion, open-heartedness, sensitivity, awkwardness at times. I spent hours reading and rereading those books. They were my friends during many difficult times in my childhood when I felt as if I didn’t have any friends after a rough day of bullying and being made fun of and feeling at risk of getting beat up.

If I had the chance to spend time with Anne of Green Gables, I wouldn’t want to bring the mood down by complaining, instead I would want to know more about her. Spending time with Nancy Drew, I definitely would have spent my time asking her how she navigated high school years and kept her sense of self and self confidence.

The other character that I would love to spend time with which will never change is Lizzie Bennet. Everything about her I can relate to and I can imagine us spending hours reading together, walking together and talking about everything under the sun.

How it should have ended

Tags

characters, endings, novels, postaday2012, re-writing, stories, writers

There was a story you once read (or saw, or heard) – and it didn’t end the way it should have ended. And that really annoyed you, right? So how *should* it have ended?

When I was in high school I didn’t appreciate the tragic romanticism of certain writers such as Tolstoy, Flaubert and Bronte. When I read Anna Karenina, I identified with the confusion and the desire for the seemingly unobtainable and forbidden passions, after all I was a teenage girl, if it is unobtainable and forbidden, it is automatically more desirable. While reading Madame Bovary, I remember getting so exasperated with her, understanding her willingness to risk everything for love but not understanding her concurrent obsession with all things materialistic. Similarly with Wuthering Heights, Heathcliff would drive me mad with his arrogance and refusal to allow anyone in: Catherine herself wasn’t off the hook from my frustration. Her similar arrogance and immaturity vis a vis her true feelings towards Heathcliff made for painful reading at times. All I wanted for these tragic characters was a little happiness and tranquility. Now as an older reader, I appreciate the masterpieces for what they are, brilliant insights into the frailty of human nature and its inner demons.