A good story should bring us into the lives, the homes, the kitchens and boardrooms, the mind, the bedroom, the dreams and the nightmares of our character.
We need to write about real life and not just some hermetically sealed, extra light, fat-free, flavor-free version of life.
Because life is not a continuous loop of polite tea parties where characters glance knowingly at one another or blush in sudden thrall from behind their open fan.
Life is outrageous. Life is humans at their lowest lows; gripped with rage or desperation making horrible decisions for horrible reasons.
Life is humans being their very best selves; putting other people before them and risking everything so that those others can live their own outrageous life.
Life is experiencing the soul shaking surrender to a lover who guides us to deep and wondrous places in ourselves that we never dared imagine.
Life is wringing out the last drop of compassion for another and reaching that place where a required action is business only; no emotion.
Life is heart wrenching sweetness and heart crushing pain.
It’s messy and raw and ugly and beautiful. And it 99% deeper than another shallow police procedural or drably written script where characters follow a Girl Scout approved path from their parents door to their spouses.
Thank fuck that it is. Anything less and we would all perish in a monochromatic, Xanax fog without ever breaking a perfect nail.
Write like that or don’t write at all.