Apr. 3rd, 2012

wyld_dandelyon: (joyouscat by Djinni)
When I was a kid, I found people frustrating. They were all so different, and so unpredictable. I liked working with things--scissors, paper, pens, pencils, paints, needle and thread, and so on. With things, getting the results I wanted might be possible or impossible, but the reason was simple--either I hadn't figured out how to make it work or those materials just wouldn't do what I wanted to do.

People, on the other hand--people could do just about anything for just about any reason!

I was really rather astonished when I realized that was exactly the reason that I loved anthropology classes in college--people do the most amazing things, and one person's reason for doing a thing is often quite different from another person's reason for doing the same thing. Once you get past the basic universal needs (things like food, clothing, shelter, companionship, love, and respect), people are much more different than I imagined when I was little.

That's what makes them interesting, and that is why I think characters are the center of every story.

What makes a "strong character"? In my opinion, it's showing enough of the universals that many readers can empathize with that character while also showing the important things that make that person unique.

One of the ways I celebrate the fascinating and delightful (and sometimes - still - frustrating) diversity I see in the people of this world is to write about a variety of characters in my fiction.

I love comments so I'll leave you with a question: What are some of your favorite examples of diversity in my fiction and in the works of other writers?

P.S. C is also for counting and making sure you're counted. I was voter #77 in my ward and #101 in our 2-ward polling place.

P.P.S. [livejournal.com profile] ysabetwordsmith, who created some of my favorite characters, has not yet closed her Poetry Fishbowl. You could stop by and leave her some prompts, if you hurry: http://ysabetwordsmith.livejournal.com/2253447.html  Go ahead and hop over.  You can visit her and then come back here to share your favorite characters with me later.  I'll wait.
wyld_dandelyon: (Default)
I got all done with my C post for the A-Z blog challenge, and then I remembered I'd promised to post the words to my Coyote song here. So, two posts, one on DreamWidth, and one over at http://wyld-dandelyon.livejournal.com/200823.html.

Besides, songs are poetry, and April is Poetry Month!!!

Coyote Afoot
By Deirdre M. Murphy

Am C Am
My kitchen draped in plastic, the food hidden away,
Dm7 FM7 Dm7
A dozen pots of dyes in a rainbow were arrayed,
Em Am
In folds, knots, and spirals white t-shirts all were laid,
Em Am Dm7 Am (or C before choruses)
I’d been at work for hours, and my nerves were quite frayed.

Then, from up near the ceiling, a white-clad man splashed down
And landed in my dyes—a clumsy red-haired clown—
He admired his new-dyed suit, ignoring my fierce frown,
And with a tie-dyed grin said, “Let’s go paint the town!”

Em F
I demanded, “Who are you, and how’d you get in here?”
Em F
That cocky lad just grinned a smile from ear to ear,
G Am
Said, “Call me Coyote. My dear, you need not fear—“
Dm7 C
My look must have made my disbelief quite clear
 
Em F Dm7
He stood and looked me in the eyes, and said,
Dm Dm7 Dm
“You sing, ‘The Gods are Alive and Magick is Afoot”
Bm F
Then why so much surprise  when I appeared before your eyes
Em
And tripped through your dyes—
Dm Em
Did you think your Gods would meekly stay put?
 
Then the young man shifted to dispel any doubt
To a four-footed form; he tossed my dyes about
And the clothes were all spattered with bright-colored rain
Then suddenly my guest wore human form again

The Gods are alive, and Coyote’s underfoot
And his feet are full of dye and his eyes are black as soot
And the shirts are all dyed now, though how well I cannot guess
And he asked me out again, and I heard myself say, “yes”.

The evening was amazing, Coyote sure can dance
Whenever I felt tired, he revived me with a glance
When I went to rinse the new-dyed t-shirts (the next day)
They were marked with the bright prints of a coyote pair at play
 
Coyote is alive, and magick is afoot
And he sure isn’t tame, and he will not stay put
I didn’t believe he could just show up one day
And I don’t know if I hope he’ll go—or hope he’ll stay.

Copyright © 2001 (2/12/01) by Deirdre M. Murphy, all rights reserved
.

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