Inward War of Wills

It’s an inward war of wills, I suppose, that battle between what we think is best, and what we want.  Whether it’s a promise to make a boss respect our work more, or a promise to make a relationship better – it is that inward war between the brain and the heart.  The message is usually the same: try harder, try harder, and try harder.  I told someone once that if you have to always try harder, what you are trying to fix is probably not all that good.  This is true with Emily, in Pages in the Wind, when she desperately tries to make her relationship with her father better.  Her intentions are good, and her efforts are vigilant but unfortunately the results will prove barren.  Why? Because what she is trying to fix is inherently broken on the other end.

Father took Robert’s hand and Robert pulled dad toward the door, anxious for breakfast.  Father looked back at me, and said “come on Emily, time for breakfast.” I guess that he knew I was there after all. Not wanting to get in trouble for disobeying orders; I got up and walked toward the house.  I couldn’t help but take one last look at the brick path, but somehow I still saw it as a yellow brick road leading to a magical place if only I could find it.   I squinted, blinked, and closed my eyes trying to see the red brick path that father had built, and not the yellow brick road that I built in my mind.  Just try harder, Emily, there is no yellow brick road, there never was, remember? Try to be happy and stop looking for more.  With the vow clearly in mind, but the yellow brick road clearly in my heart; I followed Robert and father into the house for breakfast.                                                                                           

Emily’s brain is more in sync with her heart than she realizes.  She knows that something “isn’t right” but societal norms give her the message that she should have a good relationship with her father.  She’s too young to pin the blame on anyone except herself, which of course is a ripe breeding ground for later insecurities.  I wonder, have you been in a situation where you tried harder, and tried harder and finally realized that the battle was lost before you started?

Torment and Imagination: A Gateway to Creativity or Madness?

In the story, Emily handles her torment and abuse by escaping into her imagination. Her life is fraught with difficulties and every day she has to navigate around an abusive and sadistic father. Her world is difficult to bear, so she creates a world that is woven in happiness and suits her kind nature. Emily spends a lot of time drawing and writing, and creating her own bearable world as a shield to the world she has to face whenever her father is around. Emily is, by nature, a sensitive person which compounds the impact that abuse has on her. It follows a natural transition that Emily's nature is in direct contrast to her father's abusive nature and would result in the use of her imagination to protect her from harm. This begs the question, if Emily lived in a happy environment with loving parents - would her imagination flourish? If adversity fuels the imagination and creativity - how far can it reach before it crosses over into madness?

In Pages in the Wind, there is a passage in the beginning of the book that illustrates how her imagination rescues her from the torment of her father:

"It was a typical sunny day and Emily got up early before the rest of the family, and quickly dressed and walked quietly to the front porch. This was a special time of day for her. The house was silent and the world was quiet. All she could hear were the thoughts within her own mind, uninterrupted by the terrifying shouting of her father. She would sit on the porch, her favorite place and the place where Reid would always wait for her. She would have a pencil and a tablet with her during these quiet times, for Emily loved to draw. She would always draw the same thing - faces of girls. She was talented at drawing and could capture an imaginary girl in her mind, draw her face as she imagined it, and fantasize an entire life around the picture. For hours she would sketch, not missing a detail of who this girl was. She would imagine what kind of life this girl lived, and the people that surrounded the imaginary girl's life. She would draw for hours, lost in her rapid and endless imagination, until her fantasy world was interrupted by the terrifying sound of her father's voice."


So - I wonder, where will this imagination lead? Surely Emily would rather live in her imaginary world as opposed to the wicked world imposed by her father. If the mind creates thoughts and perceptions - which world is real? Will her imagined world collide with her real world? What is the impact of prolonged trauma on the young mind?


What do you think?

Whispers

It's a whisper, not a shout.   As the young mind develops, his beliefs align with what is right in front of him.  He believes what his parent or guardian tells him, because he hasn't been exposed to other ideas and accepts what the apparent all-knowing adult tells him.  Unfortunately, as in Emily's case in Pages in the Wind, her belief system is flawed and harmful to her self esteem.  As she develops, and is exposed to other people, her belief system is challenged.  It is confusing, but in that confusion there is an opening.  It is in the form of a whisper, something said that is in direct opposition to what she has been taught to believe, and an important seed is planted.  After a simple game at the park, her friend Reid makes a casual comment about her father, which calls into question what she has believed for ten years.

I walked slowly up the stairs to my front porch, pretending to go inside so I could watch Reid when he turned around.  Somehow I thought that I could figure out what he meant by watching him walk home.  My mind was as cloudy as the June gloom of morning, but I wanted to understand what he meant.  Something was said that was significant but I didn’t know what it was.  Reid opened a door that had never been opened in my mind.  I wasn’t sure what door it was, but as I opened the door to my house I knew that it was important and held an element of truth that I had never dared think about.

Whispers that challenge flawed thinking or beliefs can be life-changing, especially if the whisper comes early.  Of course, in the case of extreme abuse, we wish that we could elevate the whisper to a shout.  Still, if a whisper can open a closed door ever so slightly - it can let in the light.  In the light, there is hope.  For Emily, the hope is that the whisper will provide enough light to challenge years of flawed thinking and a damaged self image.

I wonder, have you ever listened to a whisper that made a difference in your life?

The Role of Authority and Charisma - with Thoughts about the Penn State Scandal

As I have worked with character development, the personalities of the characters have changed little; but in thinking about how they look through the lens of a child - they have.

As children, our parents are infallible. This likely accounts for why it takes so long for severely abused children to be recognized, and removed from their dismal environment. If you add charm and charisma to the mix, the child sees the abuser through the lens of how he interacts with others as well as how they view him. Unfortunately, the end result in the mind of a child is the belief that there must something wrong with them.

If I take this out of the family circle, and broaden this hypothesis to other important figures in a child's life, the same rule applies. I'm thinking of all the victims at Penn State. It must have been confusing to see a renowned and charismatic figure in the realm of heightened authority, and wonder why this well-respected person picked him to abuse.

The abuser is not always the boogie man waiting in the bushes. If he was, "telling" would be so much easier. When the abuser is an elevated figure, a person in authority and an admired person - it compounds the confusion and the damage digs deeper into the child's psyche. This is the situation in Pages in the Wind. Emily's father is a dynamic figure, admired and respected by many, and his attributes are outwardly apparent. Emily is always in the audience, seeing his charismatic behavior in action.


Growing up in that house, no one told Emily that her father was anything but righteous. He was a tall, handsome man with hazel eyes, dark wavy hair, and an infectious grin. His hazel eyes were set off by his tanned skin, which he never allowed to fade. His features were masculine and rugged with high cheekbones, an angular nose, and a square and prominent jaw. He had a style that attracted both men and women. Men were drawn to him, for he enjoyed the camaraderie of other men, and he sought a large audience of men as much as women. Men made him feel important and envied, while women made him feel desirable and sexual. He was comfortable in both large and small gatherings, and moved around the room with an ease and demeanor that would catch the eye of everyone in the room.

He was gregarious and always the first one invited to a party, for his quick wit and engaging presence. An officer in the navy, Captain Jacob Taylor was often called to serve as master of ceremonies at naval functions. Captain Taylor was never hindered by inhibitions, and reveled at being the center of attention without looking foolish or self-serving. His co-workers admired him for his intelligence and imposing demeanor, and his friends gravitated to him for his outgoing personality. It was readily apparent that women found him wildly attractive. He filled up every room that he walked into. His stride was confident, and in his presence you knew that you were with a man that could accomplish whatever he set his mind to do. He had that certain charisma that is hard to explain, but you know it when you see it. It was the way he laughed with his eyes, the way he exuded confidence in every step he took, the way he seasoned his conversation with interesting anecdotes.

I wonder if you have known people in similar environments, or if you relate to the "pull" that charismatic people have in dragging in their prey. Does it, in fact, even reach beyond our childhood and follow us into adulthood? If we witnessed a child being abused by a nameless person, wouldn't we drag them to the nearest cop, after we did our own damage? Would we even have to think about it? Would we wait and go through the proper chain of command, and consider damage control in terms of the abuser?

What are your feelings about it?

Author's Notes

As the book progresses, I have to pause when I think of how each character "looks" as opposed to how they "are." In other words, we so often think that we know people but unless we dig down and really try to understand them - we probably don't know them at all. So much of their life experiences are not shared with us, they are buried deep or saved for a choice few. Unfortunately, some people never chose to share their fears or horrific experiences, they bury them and unfortunately manifest themselves in unhealthy ways.

You won't be able to find Emily unless you look beneath her sweet exterior. There are clues, some subtle and some not-so-subtle. If suffering breeds character, it probably will with Emily. Some characters in the book chose to take a deviant path to the maladies of their lives; their mind goes in that direction for reasons that are not easily understood. Unfortunately, their sociopathic behavior  crashes into innocent lives and changes the course of the innocent - forever.

As an interesting side-note, I recently had the opportunity to confront someone that I know about their bullying. I sat down and really took the time to understand this person, and where this bully-behavior comes from. Among other questions, I asked this person to name five times that someone said something that hurt his feelings. After some thought, he couldn't think of one time. If there really is a "Rockwell Childhood," this person probably scored one. We talked for hours, and as hard as I looked, I found no trauma that would cause him to bully and judge others. The only sure-thing that I was left with was a "lack of empathy." He lacked empathy because somehow he skated his way through life without the emotional pain that would lend itself to understanding the pain of others. This was a surprise to me, as someone that always looks for "cause and effect." In this case, there was no obvious cause, but the result was a lack of empathy toward others - which probably accounted for the bully-behavior. I haven't let go of the belief that there is something deeper hiding there, I just haven't been able to find it. Maybe it really isn't there.

At any rate, this is Emily's journey and how she responds to the horrors that befall her. I wonder how many Emilys are out there - and whether their response to the horrors of life is rooted in DNA or if it something much more mysterious? Are some of the people that enter her life simply lacking in empathy because they have not experienced pain? I still struggle with that possibility. What do you think?

The Reality in the Mirror

I haven’t been posting as often, which means that even with my crazy schedule, I have found a few hours every morning to work on this book.  It’s progressing in a more linear fashion, which is probably good although the temptation to skip around is hard to resist.  I’m posting a short passage from Pages in the Wind, which touches on facing reality, and in a later posting, disassociation.  Emily is maturing, and she is beginning to question what is happening to her.  She is starting to realize that something isn’t right.  She feels alone, her beloved grandma is gone and she has been away from Reid for ten years.  After a particularly gruesome incident, she passes herself in the mirror and has a reaction that changes the way she sees herself.

I shut the door, and double-checked to make sure that I had locked it.  Walking to my bed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bureau mirror.  I wanted to keep walking and pretend that nothing happened, but something inside of me couldn’t.  I usually pushed it away, and pulled out something within me to keep going like nothing happened.  This time, I walked to the mirror without resisting the urge to turn away.  I don’t know if I was just too tired of pretending that I was okay, or if I wanted to face that image in the mirror.  I felt as though all of my resolve to fight to be happy had drained out of me, leaving me tired and alone.  I felt defeated, like a wounded soldier on the battlefield with nothing but dead comrades around him, knowing that there was no one there to rescue him.  I felt like that soldier, half dead but still alive knowing that his wounds were too severe to survive without help.  I was that hopeless soldier, slowly feeling the life drain from my body and knowing that there was no one there to save me.

As gruesome as it sounds, this jolt of reality is an important component to her psyche.  In my next posting, Emily will reach inward to find strength.  A seed will be planted.  How that seed grows will fuel the rest of the story. 

The Hold Button

Every day when I turn on my computer, or walk through the check-out line at the grocery store, I am bombarded with well-placed gossip magazines about people that I don’t know.  It’s easy to form opinions about these people based on out-of-context pictures and zinger headlines professing truth without merit.  Take this a step closer, how often do we form opinions about people that we think we know? Do we look at their behavior and form opinions too easily? Do we really know what is going on in their lives, in their heads, or how their experiences have caused them to act in a certain way? Can we dig deeper, look closer, or even step back and not judge at all? We see this in Pages in the Wind, as Emily contemplates the meaning behind an irritable exchange with her brother:

I looked down the hall toward Robby’s room, and thought about his irritation this morning.  He snapped at me for no reason, I was just trying to talk to him.  I sat down at the kitchen table and sighed with resentment thinking about how lucky he is.  He has it all, anointed from birth as the flawless son. Robby has everything; he’s the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect everything.  I continued to stare down the hall, thinking about the way he looked this morning.  Sometimes I see a crack in his armor, a hint of something in his eyes when he doesn’t know I’m looking.  It looks like fear, an emotion I recognize.  I wonder if being perfect puts too much pressure on him.  As I continued to gaze in the direction of his room, I wondered whether Robby tries to be so perfect, or if he just is perfect.  Either way, I feel uneasy for him although I don’t know why.  I suppose I’m just trying to find a small kink in his perfection, so I can get closer to him, and find the brother that I so desperately want him to be.  

There is more to Robby, which will emerge later in the book.  Emily senses it, but only when she steps back and tries to imagine what it is like to be him.  At the point in which she steps back, judgment is placed on hold.  I know in my own life, I struggle to press the hold-button and step back before reacting to what I see on the surface.  It’s not easy, especially in a society of constant commentary.  I wonder, have you ever felt like you were judged too soon, too easily, and how did that make you feel? Conversely, have you ever wished that you had pressed the hold button and withheld judgment?