Truth is Stranger than Fiction -or- Why I Hate Plotting

You know how people say “truth is stranger than fiction”? Well, they're right – because, dammitall - fiction has to make sense like real life never does.

I met my husband when he fixed my car – I’d randomly chosen the apartment I lived in, had opted to keep my Toyota not my Ford when I moved, and went to the closest Toyota repair shop. I was new in town (been there one day!) and loved country dancing. Since he had country music on, I asked him if he knew a good place to go dancing. He did, and he went every Thursday and the rest is history.

I wrote a short story loosely based on this little romance of ours, and it was considered too coincidental and unbelievable.

Huh.

I know I’ve been harping on Camilla lately, but I’m having fits trying to make sense why (oh why) Jed is living at her house in her spare room. I’ve thrown umpteen scenes at the wall, and nothing is sticking: too coincidental and unbelievable. Or, in some cases, just too clichéd and has been done to death.

Fact is, though, that clichés are clichés because they reflect real life. And coincidences happen. Just not in fiction, and some days this really annoys the snot out of me.

It has to be somehow logical and full of specific motivation to get Jed at Camilla’s. On top of this, I like having somewhat eccentric characters and a bit of fun with them, so I can’t miss a chance for some humor. So I have to create wacky situations that are also logical.

So - do I have it figured out why Jed is living with Camilla? Not in a way that makes logical sense. I bounced some ideas off of a writing friend, and she came back with some "yes, but"'s that poked very legitimate holes in some of my plans. So, it's back to the drawing board.

Some days I miss working at the bank. After all $1 plus $1 is always $2… unless you count the interest earned.