Guess who hasn’t saved it anywhere? I can’t even Google for it because the community closed due to lack of interest. There was only a handful of us that ever took part in the challenges – or perhaps the reason for the collapse was getting rid of Team Cyberman and thrusting those members into new teams with different people and different ways of going about things. I think I would be pretty miffed if I’d been shunted to Team Adipose because they didn’t want to bother with Team Dalek any more!
Anyway, I still like to write. I like to write a lot. But I do have a small problem with one aspect of writing.
I can never seem to develop and flesh out a solid, believable character. I always end up hating my main protagonists and even become embarrassed by them. I eventually give up and scrap every fiction project I have ever started – and this frustrates me to no end.
I can take factual events and turn them into a pleasing read, and I am able to write acceptable – sometimes even very good – fanfiction using characters that are already strongly developed (The Doctor, Gene Hunt, the Red Dwarf crew, the Leverage team, any X-Man, Spike etc.)
Whilst I do enjoy writing fanfiction, it feels a little like cheating because I did not create and do not own the characters I work with (with exceptions such as the Krytermen, Planet Moo and the MooCows).
Here is an example of one of my better fanfics. Again, this was a challenge I was set in a community and concerns Parker, the loveable, goofy thief from Leverage who is played brilliantly by Beth Riesgraf.
I can’t always talk to Sophie; sometimes the thoughts in my head get so big that they won’t come out and I can’t formulate them in to words. That’s when I come here, to the computer, and blog my thoughts instead of trying to speak. I don’t know if anything I say makes sense; I don’t know if I ever make sense to anybody unless I’m out on a heist stealing something. Hell; that’s the only time I even make any sense to myself.
Who am I? What am I all about? Is Parker even my name? From such vague, traumatic beginnings it’s difficult for me to know. I’ve always lived on the outside of society; always the scapegoat, the freak, the black sheep, the fifth wheel. I’ve shunned and been shunned. It’s been easier that way.
In the far recesses of my mind there are corridors, dark and layered thick with dust. Here and there lie piles of old books, the yellowed pages of which contain my personal history from way back when. I try not to venture down those corridors.
Yet sometimes they call to me. An old, dry whisper that only I can hear. And I follow that voice down into my own personal Rabbit Hole.
My fingers trace pretty pictures in the dust and I can smell mildew. I hear spiders scuttling around in the dark corners, in the parts of my mind that I try not to visit.
My hands dance lightly over the books that contain The History Of Parker.
Perhaps, one day, I might open them.
©G Wright 2011
I love this fic; I think I captured the essence of Parker very well.
I’d like to be able to do this with my own characters from my own imagination though. Can anyone give me any advice on this?