tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35866870.post6429108798690123680..comments2023-12-20T02:09:03.416-06:00Comments on Redemption Road: MomentsMerry Monteleonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09435956005780500310noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35866870.post-78915108432033417202009-11-25T15:25:40.277-06:002009-11-25T15:25:40.277-06:00SS@S,
That's exactly what I'm talking abo...SS@S,<br /><br />That's exactly what I'm talking about! The last paragraph just killed me, too, definitely bonus points there.Merry Monteleonehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09435956005780500310noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35866870.post-84075853154635075412009-11-24T15:55:59.395-06:002009-11-24T15:55:59.395-06:00Ok, here's a scene that brings Trin to life, f...Ok, here's a scene that brings Trin to life, for me, at least. It's something he never talked about, how his parents killed themselves in a suicide bombing.<br /><br />“You do remember it. Father Troy said you didn’t. But when I saw you today, I realized.”<br /><br />Trinidad said nothing. He let Castile hold his hand, fingers tight around the bullet on his palm.<br /><br />“I think you should tell me,” Castile said. “I really want to know. I want to understand.”<br /><br />“I don’t.”<br /><br />“Please.”<br /><br />Trinidad bit his lip and leaned his head against the table. <br /><br />“Please, Trin.”<br /><br />“We got in a fight and Israel was crying. Israel--he was just being a kid, you know? But he was always getting on my nerves. Dad was about as mad as I’ve ever seen him. He picked up Israel and he yelled at me and told me to--” he broke off as memory flared.<br /><br />“Wait outside,” Castile whispered.<br /><br />“Yeah.” Trinidad let the ammo belt rest on his thigh and he closed his eyes, tight, until he saw sparks. “He made me wait at the end of the parking lot under a tree. The market was one of those Indigo-run places, all locally grown things. The guy used to always give us candy, so I knew Israel was going to get some and I wasn’t. I was crying and upset. My dad had this bag over his shoulder. I didn’t even think about it. It was supposed to be for the things they bought.”<br /><br />“That’s how he got the bomb in the door.”<br /><br />Trinidad bit down on his upper lip, hard. <br /><br />“Trin--”<br /><br />“Dad was carrying Israel and giving me that look and the door closed on them. Mom didn’t even say anything. She didn’t yell at us. She was looking at her list. She didn’t even glance back at me. But the terrorists in their cell testified later. She knew. She was in on the whole thing.”ssashttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15527483283426518167noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35866870.post-71053411653033058692009-11-24T13:18:28.481-06:002009-11-24T13:18:28.481-06:00Hi JJ,
I agree with you. There are a lot of vari...Hi JJ,<br /><br />I agree with you. There are a lot of variables to the type of qualities that pull me in, but often it's something I can identify with, or something I wish (or hope) I had the strength to be.<br /><br />I'm really more thinking about the HOW here - how a writer gets it across in the fiction. The ones that miss the mark for me don't necessarily lack in the characteristics they've given the people in their fiction. So I guess the question is how do you show it? How do you get it across without spoonfeeding the readers?Merry Monteleonehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09435956005780500310noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35866870.post-23713223236148490162009-11-23T17:06:02.561-06:002009-11-23T17:06:02.561-06:00I think I love characters out of a combination of ...I think I love characters out of a combination of finding something about them I admire and finding something in them that I recognize in my own character.<br /><br />I can love a character for having the same crazy foibles as me. I can also love them for being the sort of person I wish I was.jjdebenedictishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16950592240599703771noreply@blogger.com