Aloha. McKenna here again. Today, I want to talk about the lack of respect we characters get. Terry tells me that yesterday, on Deborah Coonts’s Facebook page, there was a discussion about authors and the “voices in their heads.” Well, let me tell you, as one of those voices, we’re fed up.
I’m the hero in Photo Finish. I’m the one who did all the work. The one who traipsed all over Oahu to figure out the crime. What did Terry do? He sat back and listened to me. Well, la de dah, how’s that fair? I do the heavy lifting and he gets credit for my story. Of course, if people don’t like my story, that’s his problem. He must not have told it right.
So what’s the deal? You readers talk about good writers. Their plotting. Their this, their that. Blah, blah. Hello! They pay attention to us. The authors are good about telling others it was the character who told the story. But, come on, readers, when’s the last time you sent a fan letter to Kinsey Millhone?
Personally, I’d like to talk to a couple of my fellow characters. You know, one-on-one, mano a mano, face-to—never mind, you’ve got it. Our authors get to join “writers groups” and “organizations” to help them. Whoopee. What do we get? Nothing, zip, nada—sorry, I’m getting carried away again. We characters might need to organize. How about “Mystery Characters of America” as a support group for those of us that do the real work? I like that. I’m just not sure how I’d pay my dues or what insurance we’d get in a benefit package. Would we get benefits?
Got a character you’d like to see me talk to? Let me know, maybe we’ll hook up, connect, become friends—whatever.
Mahalo for listening, McKenna
