Tag Archives: Loved Into Being

Crying Over You: Why it’s OK to grieve over fictional characters

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” I try to make the readers feel they’ve lived the events of the book. Just as you grieve if a friend is killed, you should grieve if a fictional character is killed. You should care. If somebody dies and you just go get more popcorn, it’s a superficial experience isn’t it?”

~George R. R. Martin, author of the “Game of Thrones” novels

I remember as a child reading the classic novel “Little Womenwhich is still one of my favorites.  I always got choked up when dear, quiet, loving little Beth dies.  Beth, with her gentle nature and love for playing the piano, reminded me of one of my older sisters, so it was doubly painful.  Why, I asked myself, did favorite characters–especially characters as nice and good as Beth–have to die??

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Of course, I later realized if nothing dramatic happened in stories–no unexpected plot twists, no angst-filled characters, no opportunities for the surviving people within the stories to grieve, rage, seek revenge, to grow from their tragic experiences–we’d find such books and films and television shows considerably less compelling, wouldn’t we?

Still. It hurts. Especially if and when we feel the writers do not play fair with the characters.

I am not here to discuss the perceived bad choices and rather preposterous storylines given us by some of the writers for RA’s projects–I believe most of you know where I stand on that subject and that’s really for another post.

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This post is to say that it’s perfectly OK to feel shock, horror, anger, grief over the death of a character you have come to love and feel a distinct connection to, be it in a novel or film or television show.

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You’re not crazy, actually. You are reacting to the writing and to how the actor has crafted his role. When someone like Louisa May Alcott writes so delightfully of four sisters with distinct personalities and their faults and foibles, characters to whom you find yourself relating on various levels, it would be very difficult not to care and to invest yourself emotionally in their wellbeing.

When an actor such as Richard Armitage puts his heart and soul, along with his keen intelligence, into creating a character, flawed and very much human, yet still someone we can love and admire and respect–how can we not feel moved at the very thought of losing them, never mind watching it unfold onscreen before us ?  Yes, our hearts break a bit. We are sad. We cry. We’re human, too.

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And while I admit I don’t even want to contemplate it, I know the screen death of yet another character is going to take place. And I really do dread it.  Even thought it’s a year-and-a-half away, I dread it.

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I know I will grieve, that my grief will be shared by many around the world. And I know that it’s OK, no matter what some might say.

As Martin says, “You should grieve. You should care.”

And if you’re like me, you know they really haven’t died. No, they’ve been Loved Into Being, just like that velveteen rabbit in the children’s story, gaining So Not Dead status and going on to further adventures and greater glories. Living on in our fanfiction, fanvids, fanart, on our forums, in our blogs–and most of all, in our hearts.

Even so, it’s still perfectly OK to shed a few tears–or a lot of them–to go through Kleenexes and curl up in bed and have a good old crying jag, if you must.  In a way, it’s a true homage to the writers and actors who gave us these characters in the first place.

Long live the So Not Dead Present and Future–may they continue to bring joy and pleasure, beauty and laughter and heady adventure into our lives.

Sometimes, they even end up hanging out in your den eating brownies and getting milk mustaches. I swear . . .

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No foolin’–they are all SND (So Not Dead)

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It’s TPTB that are foolish, thinking they can kill off our favorite ChaRActers with a stroke of their poisoned pens (or keyboards, as it were).  Their CReAtor has breathed life into these fellows, giving them breadth and depth, hearts and souls, and they outlive whatever heinous plans and dubious plotlines shoved at them.  Long live the So Not Dead, who have been Loved into Being by their many admirers.  Long may they continue to delight and dazzle us with their adventures.

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I’d include more artwork including Capt. Ian, but WP is playing an April Fool’s joke on me, it seems. 😉

So Not Dead Guy: It’s good to be Loved Into Being

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One of the great things about being So Not Dead is you never get ill. No colds, no tummy troubles, no sore muscles from over-use, no splitting headaches from dealing with that pesky voyeur Forest Boy.  And you can eat all the chocolate ice cream and gooey brownies that you want to and never gain an ounce on your long, lean, muscular frame. *sigh*

Sir Guy loves being SND.  And we love Sir Guy, our Hot Velveteen Henchman, don’t we? Yes, we do.

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It’s great to be able to service visit all the lovely ladies around the world who admire me. They appreciate my–stamina.

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I still enjoy a good dried plum, but I confess decadent chocolate ice cream and hot fudge sundaes are much more fun. Whipped cream, anyone?

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Chocolate Chip Ice Cream (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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And I have a very generous nature. Ladywriter also likes to give me gifts–the latest Lancome mascara, new eye pencils, black leather trousers, hair product–I think she likes for me to look my best. *smirks* I hope you do, too.

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OK, I am still a bit touchy over certain subjects. I have been working on my anger management issues. Still, you wouldn’t want me to be too much of a goody-two-shoes, now, would you?? *broad smirk and raised brow*

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I am always happy to come and grace your dreams, you know. I’d like them to be happier than some of mine have been.

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Everyone seems to like this particular image of me.  And really–what’s not to like? *devilish grin*  Happy Guyday Friday, everyone!

Richard Armitage is poetry

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Richard Armitage is poetry. He is poetry in his stillness, and in motion. He is poetry aloud and in the moments of silence. He is poetry in the laughter and the pain, the joy and the sorrow. He is poetry in his humanity, in all its flawed beauty, its imperfect perfection.

His characters become flesh and blood and bone to me. I see through their eyes, through his eyes, and journey with them. And even when they behave in disappointing and even abhorrent ways I cannot wholly condemn them.  Because I am human, too, and full of my own foibles and failings.  

I rejoice with them in those happy moments.  I grieve when their end comes. They have become friends, allies, fellow travelers on this fascinating and difficult and unpredictable journey. It is so hard for me to say goodbye that I simply have to Love them into Being.

The artistry of Richard Armitage touches my heart, my mind and my soul. Yes, he is a physically gorgeous man,  and I gladly celebrate all that distinctive masculine beauty.

 But were it not for the poetry I see within him, in the way he moves and speaks and simply is; were it not for the intelligence, the sensitivity, the humor, the intensity, the tenderness that I see in his face, his eyes, his smile, his hands, his being, all that outward beauty would be nothing but an empty shell.  Pretty to look at but ultimately forgettable.

For me, he is unforgettable.  He makes me more fully realize what it means to be human. To be humane.

Richard Armitage is poetry . . .

Screencaps courtesy of RichardArmitageNet

Farewell to a Feline Friend

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Tonight, shortly after 10 p.m. Central Standard Time, our beloved Puddie passed away. We were at her side.

We had kept vigil over her for those last few hours, cradling her in our arms, stroking her as she lay on the bed between us. We knew the end was coming. It was just a matter of time.

We cried. We talked. We remembered the good times. We cried some more.

I told her how many people had sent good wishes and prayed for her, how she was a celebrity in her own right and would never be forgotten by those who loved her fictional adventures.

I assured her that she would live on in our hearts. Thoughts of her exquisitely smooth purr, ever-expressive and elegant plume-like tail and those beautiful green eyes Scarlett O’Hara would have envied, would make us smile.

Puddie.

Proud and sometimes a bit humorless, wonderful to cuddle with on cold days and particularly enamored of the left-over dregs of Blue Bell ice cream. And only Blue Bell. Store brand? Forget about it. Only the best for our Puddin’.

Always trying to stuff herself inside boxes a little too small for her, like a vain woman who tries to wear a dress at least one size too little. Taking helium balloons for a walk around the house by catching the ribbons between her teeth.   Thumper’s cuddle buddy and grooming partner.

Never a sweet cat like our Callie, but very endearing in her own diva-like way. We loved her. We will miss her.

Tomorrow, we will bury her earthly remains in the shade of the big pecan tree, to join our beloved Lucky, Scooter, Mary Ann and Ginger.

The happy news is this. Guy, Lucas and Porter have officially welcomed her into the fold. Puddin’  has been Loved into Being.

Harry, remember that a good book and a purring Puddie can be grand companions on a chilly winter’s day.

Guy, save her a little Blue Bell, won’t you? She’d like that. I’ve spoiled you, now you can spoil her, just a bit.

Farewell, my dear old feline friend.