Parental Figures - On and Off the Page (Laurie Faria Stolarz)

 

The topic for this month is parents. What weight do they hold in our creative writing? 

For the most part, until only recently, parental figures have stayed at the periphery of my work. For my first novel, Blue is for Nightmares, for example, my main character, Stacey Brown, has a somewhat distant relationship with her mom. Stacey ends up at boarding school, further removing her from her mother--and the adult world with all of its rules and restrictions. Sure, Stacey calls home every now and again, but the conversations are somewhat shallow since Stacey has so many secret.

And, the father? He’s dead, of course. The father figures in most of my work are pretty "dead"--not at all present. 

It wasn’t until a close writer friend pointed that out–”Hey, Laurie, what’s up with all your fatherless characters?”--that I noticed this pattern. I could only guess it was because I didn’t really know how to write fathers. 

I didn’t have a father figure in my own upbringing, so writing one…” What did father do? What were they like? How did they talk to their daughters? Or behave around them? 

True, I saw the fathers of friends; but to be honest, fathers, in general, always intimidated me. I wasn’t comfortable around them and would always find fault, even when it wasn’t warranted. 

After my friend pointed out my fatherless habit, I started writing father figures into my work. But, honestly? I was a failure at it. If my fathers couldn’t be dead, I made them work-horses, never home. Or cheaters, and therefore never home. Or traveling someplace. Never home. 

You’d think having older brothers, who eventually became fathers themselves, and with years of experience watching my own husband parent our children, I’d warm up to the idea. But perhaps there’s some wall up inside my brain. I just don’t write dads - not in any meaningful way. But maybe, for me, the fact that I don’t does mean something. Maybe my childhood self just isn’t comfortable covering that paternal territory.

The moms in my work, on the other hand… They do all the parental work. They are the caregivers, the confidants, the nurturers, the supporters. Even when they’re imperfect - and they’re always imperfect because that’s what’s real. 

Did Jane’s mom in Jane Anonymous want Jane to simply “move on” after Jane had been abducted and held in captivity for seven months. Yes, she did–because that’s what she felt at the moment. Because, selfishly maybe, she wanted her “old daughter” back. Many readers hated the mom for that reason–and that’s okay. Certainly, the mom didn’t behave well. There is no playbook for dealing with the loss of one’s child (regardless of whether that loss is physical, mental, or spiritual)--and Jane’s mom is a good example of that.

The point that I'm getting at (hopefully) is that moms as minor characters are people too, not just stand-in characters to serve the story. However minor their role, I strive for them to have their own backstories, their own secrets, and their own lessons to learn. 

And speaking of deplorable moms, I’m writing one now. My current work in progress features a mom that readers will love (fingers crossed) to hate. But, once again, she won’t be deplorable merely to serve the story. She will have her own history, most of which won’t show up directly on the page, but still as a writer I need to know it. 

As for my own mom? We were super tight, growing up, like best friends: the first person I called when I had a question, or wanted to celebrate, or needed advice, or had to cry… She’s had some complications lately and needs a lot of support, so I’ve been grieving the loss of her for years, though she’s still here. I miss her every day.