What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear
“fall”? This time of year, I still
automatically go with a Currier & Ives image of a perfect New England
foliage explosion.
Out here in the Pacific Northwest, fall is quieter. In town,
yard trees are selected for spring flowers, summer shade, and fall color. Our
mountain place leans toward towering evergreens, although we can do sepia tones
quite nicely. (Le sigh – I keep planting Aspen and the deer keep eating them.)
“Fall” can conjure other images: People fall up and down the
stairs, in and out of love. We choose to free-fall on carnival rides or in any
number of outdoor sports. We enjoy the beauty of waterfalls and falling leaves.
Emotional falls can be beautiful, romantic, sad, painful,
and exciting—or “d” all the above. Those emotional triggers seem fraught with
so much more peril. A broken bone heals, but is a broken heart ever truly
mended? What’s a writer to do? Remember the phrase going around for a while?
Want to write? Open a vein and bleed onto the page. That’s emotional vulnerability.
In my current WIP, I’m struggling to knock my protagonist
down emotionally. I’m taking bigger risks, digging deeper into the character.
And in digging deeper, I’m risking revealing more of myself as I tap into my
own emotional reserves. In order to entice my readers to fall in love with my
character, to follow him along and through his internal and external journeys,
my character has to not just face down challenges, he has to fail—and fail big,
falling flat on his face. He has to hit rock bottom and leave the reader
wondering if he can get back up. As I push myself as a writer, I’m pushing this
character to peel back layers, figure out what he really wants, and go for it,
even if at times he’s hanging by his fingertips over a chasm that will kill him if he falls.
What about you? Fall/falling–love it or hate it? Are you
taking risks—as an author or personally?
