What do You Mean the Bad Guys Should Win!

Well, see . . . I finally did it. I made a family so bad I couldn’t stand them.

But my Main Character is the Adopted Child that Everyone Hates, because he inherited the whole shebang. Well, yeah, nice guy driven up the wall by the nasty relatives, wins over the staff, throws out the Bad Apples (one of whom embezzled all the money and ran for it) recovers the money and introduces the younger generation to the ego boosting affect of hard work done well . . .

Yeah, it was that bad. Trite. Almost Grey Goo.

Now all I can do is step back and analyze the story. From the very basic “What is the story problem, and in general terms, how is it resolvable?”

In this case it appears to be “A horrible Family—fixed by a new head of family moving in and kicking *”

Now the first question is, does the family really matter to the MC? Well, no. His only interest is, well, his culture expect him to be the Head of family. There really no emotion there to drive him.

Next question: How do I give him personal motivation? Eh, the only things I can think of are going to result in him explaining why he killed half his family to a judge . . .

Third question: Do I really want to invest the time to finish this story?

Uh, no.

So why not scrap it and go write something else?

Well, see, my favorite character was the efficient and capable executive secretary, male variety.

And the back brain keeps whispering . . . he’d make a great Criminal Mastermind . . . pulled off the embezzlement . . . pinned it on the Nastiest Family Member . . . left 90% of the money sitting where it could be found and disappears with 10% of a very substantial amount.

The mind of a writer is a truly wondrous thing. *Dripping sarcasm*

This started out as one of those shortish stories that never gets published, unless I’m really desperate to plump up a collection. It’s like an artist doodling while thinking about how to complete a masterpiece. Not that my stuff is masterpiece class, but even my avoidance and procrastination comes out in words on the screen.

Now . . . now it might actually be fun. If I can pull off the immaculate inside job.

If I can make the new MC interesting enough to overcome the general miserableness of the rest of the family. Taking the nasty family for all they’re worth . . . he’d be easy to find motivation for . . . Then he realizes the New Guy is actually honest, and acting like he’s going to get somewhere reforming the mess . . .

Arg!

No! I said No! I am going to go finish two entirely different stories, and publish them this year.

The Inside Job can just percolate in my back brain, and maybe I’ll write it next year.

Ah! The life of a writer. Fighting with yourself.

I *will* finish the “Empire of Japan” this year. Possibly even this month. Plus I have one shortish novella sitting to cool down before a light rewrite, and two larger ones that need to be finished soon.

And I’ll probably manage it. Despite the chaotic process, I do regularly publish. I’m finding that as I get older, I’m starting to write shorter, less complex stories. At the moment, I’m sort of filling in the holes in my multiverse, so maybe it isn’t age.

And maybe, as a change of pace, “The Return of  Doctor Inferno” or  “The Hunters of Men” (Stone #2) or any of the three Space Exploration things, or that urban fantasy series . . .

Popcorn Kittens.

I will die with dozens of unfinished things on my hard drive. Good thing I’m only, umm, well seventy. Brain? C’mon! Focus!

Oh, yeah, the point of this chaotic mess? Sometimes a story just needs to get tossed in the fire, so you can go on and go better things. Get tough! Just. Kill. It.