The Writer’s Curse

Her dark eyes stared at me from the blank page. Gloomily. Angrily. Disappointingly. She was the protagonist of my umpteenth novel. I based her character on my ex-wife’s persona: vivacious, dreamy, stubborn and caring. I had also added a few traits like flirtatious nature and haughtiness to her character, myself. Not to my ex-wife’s character, mind you. I always had deep respect for women. To the character of the female protagonist, I mean. Readers liked the head-strong, beautiful and independent female heroines I presented. Independent, but within limits, of course. Appealing to my readership, but not offensive to their sensibilities and moralities. It would be hard for them to digest in whole a female character thoroughly in non-conformity with social standards. So, as a writer I had to tread carefully. Had to mince my words. Delineate only part-human and largely-objectified females in my novels. But this girl, this heroine was getting out of my control. She demanded to have her say. Why will she not be subdued? I put down my pen and took a short break. I’ll get back to this story later.

In the evening, a reminder email popped up from my ex-wife. Our teen-age daughter was scheduled for her fortnightly visit to me the next day. A few years ago, we were getting along fine. I used to be her hero. Then, her mother brainwashed her against me. We haven’t been getting along at all since then. We just put up with each other’s presence because a formal arrangement was made at the time of divorce. Trust that woman to stick to paperwork!

My daughter came along the next day. So, I couldn’t work on my story. I went out for a smoke. When I came back, she was scrolling through my work on my PC. She hadn’t done that in years. Once, she used to love me for what I did. Once, her mother also loved me. But then, both began to revile me in spite of all my efforts and sacrifices for them.

“You like what I’ve written?”

“No”.

“That’s rude!”

“That’s the truth. You’re stuck in your mind to the image of a weakling of a woman you can bend to your wishes.”

“My wishes? Your mom wished for a divorce. You wished to live with her. I’ve… I’ve spent all my life caring for you two.”

“You’ve spent your life working and socializing while mom felt neglected and lonely and burdened by the unfairness of this marriage. I looked up to you as my hero until I realized you love no one but yourself. She’s the one caring for me and for you until she gave up on you because you’re a lost cause. You’re so filled with your ego and desires for your own comfort that you forgot we’re living beings, not your damn characters!”

“Is this what your mom’s teaching you?”

“Mom could not teach you anything although you needed it pretty bad. I have my own brain and conscience working for me, fine thank you!”

“Get out! Get out of my home and never show me your face again!”

“That’s a relief! I’m glad that mom left you. She deserves better.”

“Wait! What do you mean? Is she… is she seeing someone?”

“That’s none of your business. She’s not your wife any more. You had plenty of over-enthusiastic female fan following. My mom, you used to say, “was being stupid” when she tried to tell you to interact with women respectfully and distantly. What is it to you now whether she’s single or not?”

With that, Natasha banged the door and left, leaving me stunned. My… my wife… someone else. No. Not mine. Not anymore. She… she’s a woman. I… I have to accept that. Fully. Not part- human. A whole human.

I went back to my story with a heavy heart. The female protagonist needed to be re-defined.

***

A few months later, my new novel’s sales broke all previous records. All these months my daughter’s voice kept eating my insides. A tiny voice within told me the credit of success went to my daughter. And, to her mom for being a strong woman and raising a terrific daughter. I have a part of my conscience tell me I should apologize and try to make things work with my daughter. Also let her mother know I’m no longer a stinky douchebag. But… but I’m a lost cause. Will they believe me? Can I… can I be given another chance? I won’t snub their personalities like I dumbed down my characters’. I’ll try to be a better dad, a better husband. If only they’ll let me.

I’m forty-five, and I’ve made many mistakes. But, this time, I’ll talk to them honestly. Without making myself a victim. I… I’ll write her an email. I’m good at writing, am I not? I’ve conquered millions of hearts. If only I could make some space inside her heart once again! Just once…