The world is chaos. Chaos is disorder. Disorder begs an established order. From this, we create.
Writers write for many reasons. One of these reasons is to make sense of a puzzling situation and bring fictional closure to a mystery they cannot solve in their own lives. Writers live in their own heads and, for me, it’s a nice world in which to be Head Honcho.
It’s a tough job. I’m responsible for all of my characters. Woe to me if Misty’s lost inhaler is used a few pages away without an explanation to its disappearance or discovery. I’m an absentminded creator if Jennifer’s missing twin brother suddenly appears with nary a question posed or Brad’s immovable wrecked truck miraculously moves. Yes, even miracles need an explanation and if my characters could fire me, I’m sure some would have by now.
I coined a term for my tangible and intangible lapses: Displaced Pudding. Since my home is now housing three full households and two partial ones, displaced items are the norm. The pudding incident is the least of these (I did find the pudding several days later, balefully sitting atop the refrigerator like an angry Buddha).
The bottom sheet incident is still being investigated. A new set of sheets was last seen a month ago. Yesterday, I discovered the bottom sheet to this set had gone AWOL. I checked the top of the fridge first, which seems to be a gathering place for missing and exploited items, but it wasn’t there. If it’s hiding in plain sight, it’s as good as Chris Angel.
I still can’t find the missing blouse from last week. It was there in the morning and gone by evening. Several others suggested possible theories, but I’m leaning toward what my daughter said about “Our house’s black hole that sucks everything in.”
Occasionally one of my cats is missing for a few hours inside my home. I think cats understand and use black holes to display their superior intellect. They understand the “now I’m here, now I’m not” concept of Displaced Pudding.
I’m beginning to understand there’s a place for displacement in the world and in the world of writing. If everything had an explanation, the world around us would be boring. Searching is sometimes more satisfying than finding the answer. However, too much Displaced Pudding can have a negative effect on your life or in your writing.
(P. S.: If anyone sees a full-size black and white bottom sheet floating around, please let me know – it might be mine)
Current enthusiasm is co-authoring at Rubicon Ranch