by Riya Nagendra, III B.A. English
Writers are sometimes the most horrible creatures. They put their pens to paper (or their fingers to the keyboard) and out—from god knows what deep recesses of their cruel minds—come words that will tear you apart, and, if they’re feeling benevolent, crudely stitch you back together with brittle old thread and no anaesthetic.
It’s one thing when they make you fond of a character, and then, when you think you cannot possibly love anyone more, they stab them with an inky knife—but there’s another little trick they use to break your delicate little heart. I’m no writer myself, but after years of keen observation I think I have an inkling of how they do it; you will find the instructions you need below.
You will require:
1 tbsp. Character A
1 tbsp. Character B (optional)
3 tbsp. Oops (to be added 1 tbsp. at a time while mixing)
1 cup Relationship (not required if only one Character)
2 cups Fondness (can be replaced with ½ cup Deep Emotional Attachment)
2 cups Disaster
1 cup What-If
Take Character A and Character B, and pour them into your bowl. Add the cup of Relationship and mix them in well. It looks like a gooey mess now, but don’t worry—it gets worse. Add in your Fondness gradually, slowly stirring the mixture as you add. Be careful at this point: things will start to get complicated and messy. Throw in one tablespoon of the Oops, followed by a portion (about ⅓ cup) of Disaster; continue to alternate between the two in this manner. The mixture may be difficult to handle at this point, but keep at it—remember, continuous mixing is the only way to ensure that your dish is completely unpalatable! Bake it in the fires of hell; pour out the cup of What-If on top, and let it slowly seep in.
Because it isn’t enough to just write a sad ending, and leave it at that—the sadness of characters parting must be compounded by giving the reader a glimpse of the happiness they missed out on—deaths must be made more unbearable by a glimmer of the life that could have been so much; because there’s nothing so tantalising as opportunities, and nothing like opportunities lost to fill your mouth with the taste of metal.
This is why writers are sometimes the most horrible creatures, and masochistic fools that we readers are, get lured into their trap, often willingly, like a fly peering into the mouth of a venus flytrap.
We know what we’re heading towards. Even then—we keep coming back.