Piece – A modern tragedy
In writing, I tend to have a one-track-mind about a particular story until I see it through. This is unlike the rest of my creative endeavors which are often left unfinished. I sincerely eat and sleep a story, much like a method actor doesn’t breaking character during filming. Unfortunately, the book I’m trying to finish for this spring, Dipso, keeps mentally getting interrupt by the seedling of my next novel, Piece.
The synopsis thus far: A young woman seeks out her biological mother after her hyper-religious foster family disowns her when she comes out with her homosexuality. Her real mother, a rough-and-tumble barfly, is initially angered by the encounter with her forgotten daughter. But after reconciling, she takes her daughter through a depressing hunt to find who the real father is. The daughter is tossed into her real mother’s world of miserable memories, having to shuffle from man to man all in hopes of finding out which one of the rapists is her biological father. The barfly has to struggle with her own humanity and femininity, her violent craving of revenge. She contemplates becoming who her tormentors are – the ravishers of her body and murderers of her spirit. Can her daughter keep her real mother from descending into the grotesque nadir of the male psyche – a murdering rapist?
Obviously, it’s a sad story and quite taboo, but what I hope to play out in the story is the different ways our psychology handles tragedy, how our society deals with rape victims, how rape victims deal with themselves, how certain people cannot forgive others for who they are, the list goes on. On the positive note, there will be an illumination of existentially dealing with misery in a positive light, self-overcoming through peaceful resolve.
I’m coming to terms with shoving things (ideas, verbiage, pictures, et cetera) related to Piece into this messy pile into the digital ether and on my corkboard.
I’m well aware that in a year from now, these characters will be very real to me and writing their story will break my heart. Trust me, I have no qualms about crying at the keyboard.