"You must not come lightly to the blank page...

[I]t's writing, damn it, not washing the car or putting on eyeliner. If you can take it seriously, we can do business. If you can't or won't, it's time for you to close the book and
do something else."
~Stephen King, On Writing

 

In Their Own Words

26 June 2002

This is the section where some of our favorite authors will share with us (and you) their favorite stories from among their own work. The lovely and talented Pix mentioned this idea to me in an e-mail, saying how she thought it might be an interesting contrast with the typical recommendations lists so prevalent on fan fic websites.

I, of course, immediately wondered the same thing, and so, here we are. This will be a weekly "when Victoria remembers to do it" feature, with past Authors' Picks being archived on a page called "From the Desk of..."

So, let us begin...

This week, we have Marguerite, well-known in the X-Files and West Wing fandoms, and writer of beautifully evocative prose.

Scroll down to see what Marguerite has to say...

Click on the name of the story within the text below if you'd like to read it.

Marguerite says...

X-Files

Long story - Dance of the Blessed Spirits

Plotting has never been my long suit. But when I was plunking my way through a book of soprano arias, I came across "The Black Swan" from Menotti's "The Medium," and the entire story just leapt out at me. What if a medium who knows she's a fake suddenly has a real encounter with the Great Beyond? (Unlike Menotti's Madame Baba, however, Dolores Graves really *does* have a truly mystical experience rather than a mental breakdown.)

Lacy Graves was based on a girl I was teaching at the time, which made her relatively easy to "draw." Dolores, Eugene, and Jake (the latter was named for a student I could hardly stand to be around) were archetypes of the kind of people I'd been working with that year. Esther Houston came from someone on a mailing list who was driving everyone crazy, so she's more than a little over the edge. <g> I wanted to show a side of southern poverty that hardly anyone sees. CC/1013 tended toward the play-'em-for-laughs portraits and I wanted to go in the other direction altogether. I chose to portray the self-sacrifice, the kindness, the familial ties, the longing for the next generation to have it better.

But the real reason I love this story so much is the interplay between Scully and Mulder. She's concerned about his mental state, given the events of "Sein und Zeit" and "Closure," and when Lacy channels Samantha, Scully wants nothing more than to grab Mulder and flee before he gets caught up in a web of self-recrimination again. For his part, Mulder is almost giddy with the chance to investigate something so clearly paranormal, irritated that Scully is once again ignoring the evidence right under her nose, and - as is his wont - completely wrapped up in Lacy's fate, just as he always is with the downtrodden young women he encounters. In the end, what lets them solve the case and return Lacy to a normal childhood is their relationship - the times they've brought one another back from the edge. They leave the scene with a little more self-knowledge than they'd had when they arrived.

Short story - The Shadow of His Wings

This came from a line in one of Harold Kushner's books about Judaism, about people who would rather feel guilty than helpless. Well, I thought, there's a perfect description of Mulder if ever I'd heard one. I started pouring out a story of Mulder's devotion seen through Father McCue's eyes.

The Mulder/Scully dynamic - which to me was the star of the show, not the mytharc or the key to everything or the monster of the week - interests me most from someone else's point of view. What does Skinner see, or Frohike, or any one of the people they encounter on their cases? Here I decided to use Father McCue, so briefly glimpsed (this was written before "All Souls") yet such a big part of Scully's recovery.

He sees this dark man in his church every week, watches him hide from Scully even though he yearns for her. Just as Scully doesn't know Mulder is there, Mulder doesn't know about the devotional prayers Scully makes for him. Scully chooses to light candles to St. Joseph not because he's the patron saint of people who might die suddenly but because, like Mulder, he believed an impossible story. That summed it up for both characters, really. The ending, where he leaves just as she senses "an angel's touch," is how I see their relationship.

Another reason I'm proud of this story is that Jordan rescued it from the trash can. Another beta reader had said it was pretty but pointless, so I was on the verge of dumping it when Jordan asked to read it. She went over it with me, line-by-line, in a chat room, and only because of her endless patience did this story escape the Eternal Deep-Six.

***

West Wing

Post-Ep - Time and the Fates of Men (3-story series)

Written

Okay, I'm an angst junkie. I'm never happier than when someone's completely miserable. <g> And no one suffers like idealistic, loving, lovely Sam. When CJ sent him to do the morning shows (and yes, I know he probably did them at the local affiliates, but I needed him to be in New York so just bear with me) I started imagining how he must have felt. Poor man, up all night, worried about his old friend, worried about the President, worried that CJ would react badly that he'd saved her life - what would he do to comfort himself? Sam, man of words, would of course write about Josh.

The obituary's appearance, piece by piece, was influenced by the Federico García Lorca poem "La Cogida y La Muerte" (aka "Llanta por Ignacio Sánchez Méjias"), where the time of death was repeated as a refrain. The difference with "Written" is that each iteration adds another portion until the obituary is nearly complete. When Sam changes his words, Josh's fate is changed. Or is it the other way around?

Percussion

This was the first of the three stories to be written, and its second-person present narrative (I went through every other permutation before landing on that one, which "clicked" so readily that it was like getting an engraved inviation to stop sucking) set the tone for the next three. The revelation in "In the Shadow of Two Gunmen" that Josh's father was an old friend of Leo's made Leo's anguish even more palpable. Yet in the middle of disaster, Leo was able to rally the troops as only he could, using every technique in his arsenal - avuncular with Donna and CJ, stern but loving with Sam, practical with Toby, gently playful with Mrs. Landingham.

Fraternity

Of all the threads that never got knitted into anything in the shooting arc, the one that I most wanted to address was how Toby reacted. He'd spent the entire day in a panic about his brother, then just after getting the news that his brother was all right, Josh was shot. And not only was Josh shot, but Toby was the one who found him - and not only that, but the shooters had a clear view of the Presidential party because of Toby's memo. That had to be a huge burden on a man who valued his privacy, who guarded his emotions, who tried to be gruff but really had the most tender heart of all the senior staff.

The strained relationship between Toby and his brother, David, gave the title its double meaning. Toby had "new" brothers in the workplace; Sam, the baby who loved him and wanted so much to please him; Josh, buoyant middle child laid low by something unexpected and horrifying; Leo, older brother/father figure Toby respected in a distantly loving way. David's visit put the three relationships in sharp focus, because both Sam and Josh had warned Toby that he would never know when he might lose a brother of the flesh - or one of the soul.

Stand-alone - Vidui

For all the sticks and stones people throw at ABS for his various sins, let us not forget that he gave us an incredibly rich, textured Jewish character. After years and years of dreadful stereotypes, we got Toby Ziegler, and I'll never be able to thank ABS enough for him. Toby is one of the most balanced characters on the show - deeply flawed yet deeply principled, bearing equally heavy burdens of maintaining discipline and loving justice. He embodies the words of Micah: "To do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God."

The fact that he does those three things while maintaining his prickly facade is what makes him such a marvelous character.

Even though Vidui isn't a post-ep, it does tie up some loose ends from S2 - Toby's destruction of Sam's beautiful speech to the environmentalists, the complete mishandling of the Ann Stark situation in "The Leadership Breakfast," his apparent cruelty and coldness about the MS disclosure in "17 People," the way he stepped over Josh to tell Donna about the MS, the general snarkiness he exhibited toward Bonnie and Ginger (not to mention Mrs. Landingham), and of course his lingering guilt over Josh's shooting and eventual breakdown. Being able to use the Days of Awe as a connecting device was a remarkable opportunity to explore all the situations through two filters: Toby's conscience and his relationships with each of his co-workers.

***

These are the favorite children of a character-driven writer. Thank you so much for the opportunity to share some thoughts about them, and thank you even more for reading.

~~*~~

So there you have it — Marguerite, in her own words...

~~*~~

 

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