For almost two years now I’ve been searching for a climax, a major trauma plopped into the orderly lives of a seemingly perfect family kept orderly by a guilt-ridden and overachieving mother. It has to be more than what I have; the sixteen year-old daughter coming home late.
It’s more than this, it needs to reveal the woman to herself the way her family sees her, far different from the way she sees herself. The rest of the narrative is too set and (I think) well planned out to reach for magical realism or heart-shattering drama. It just needs that one thing that opens up the door.
This one has been a toughie. I need to settle back into it some more. I might kill off the feeble-minded mother-in-law. Or let the husband lose his job. Or something that just sets the orbit of their world out of whack, and stand back and watch what the woman does.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Not sure why that title jumped out at me, only to find no disclosure of garments.
Don’t give in to arranging fates of characters by natural disasters or universal forces. What intrigues is always personal choice, the flaws and nobility it reveals. Think about that and you’ll have no end of endings spring fresh. 🙂