Ever since I was a boy, I’ve enjoyed watching movies. I especially loved action-packed, suspenseful movies with a triumphant good versus evil theme. Over the years, my appreciation for spy movies changed. I saw past the action and suspense and the good overcoming evil. The means rarely satisfied my needs as the story unfolded. Even as a child, I didn’t just watch movies; I immersed myself in their stories and characters.
My emotional connection to characters in stories is stronger now more than ever. In a way, I’m in the adventure, if only as an observer. Strong feelings develop toward many of the characters, and I’ve invested a full range of my emotions as if they were real people I knew. If any character I like is a villain, or worse yet dies, I’m totally turned off by the story. At that point, the fiction is too much like the part of real life I would like to get away from. It doesn’t matter how small of a part they had. They may have even been part of a backstory. If it’s a person I like, their fate 100% determines whether I will like the story.
This kind of thinking, which often isolates me from everyone I know, has driven me to write my unique stories that exemplify my very specific requirements. As much as I’d like to share what I like in a story, I know that it’s more than likely the most people will not agree or even care. When I find something I like, but it isn’t quite right for me, I may attempt to make my version. That’s exactly what happened with the James Bond stories. As much as I would love to share my enthusiasm with others, I must accept that I may have only written books for myself. Maybe that’s enough.
The following are three quotes from my book that exemplify creative ways to save damsels in distress. The creativity needed to reach that rush of euphoria was too often sadly missing in the Bond series of stories.
“Why are you laughing? I’m about to kill this woman if you don’t drop your weapon.”
Excerpt from Chapter One of The Wright Spy
“You’re a weak, insignificant momma’s boy. The last thing you’re going to hear is me laughing at you. You’ve been hiding behind women all your life because you’re not man enough—”
“Shut up!” Morris exposed more of his head from behind his girlfriend. When Chase continued to laugh, Morris lost sight of his plan, allowing his emotions to take over. Now his head was in full view as he attempted to display a fearless side of his personality.
“I’m not afraid of you, you mother—”
A shot rang out as Morris dropped his weapon and reached for the spot on his head where his ear used to be. The pain was unbearable. He rolled on the floor as he clutched the side of his head and cried shamelessly.
Wright secured Morris with handcuffs as his partner entered the room just in time to comfort the hysteric woman.
“You’re safe now. That’s not your blood,” said Special Agent Zoe Anderson. “Call it in, Chase.”
Special Agent Chase Wright was frantically going through his pockets.
“You forgot your phone, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, I’ll call it in.”
Chase saw a man seated in the shadows across the room. His exceptional eyesight and observation skills combined to identify him as one of Talia’s three stooges. Two other dancing couples had moved to allow a direct line of sight. A silencer-fitted gun barrel appeared from under the man’s shirt, pointed directly at Talia’s back. Chase observed her would-be assassin over her shoulder. He could have easily allowed the assassin to eliminate one of his adversaries—but then he wouldn’t be Chase Wright. A more creative plan was about to be implemented.
Excerpt from Chapter 15 of The Wright Spy
He placed his knee in the crook of hers while applying a gentle take-down. She fell backward with Chase on top of her. The martini glass containing the transmitter exploded, with shards of glass spraying as a bullet passed through on its way to the far wall. The would-be assassin watched helplessly, knowing he lost an opportunity for a second shot.
A couple danced into his line of sight. Concerned voices replaced the loud music. Chase leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“Play dead. You’ll know when it’s safe to leave.”
Without opening her eyes, she responded, “I hope we meet again.”
“Me too.” Chase pulled her into a nearby chair.
“Is she alright?” asked a woman from a nearby table.
“She was trippen’, but she’ll be fine.” Following his little joke to himself, Chase observed the perpetrator looking back while leaving the lounge.
Shortly after 3 a.m., a doctor in surgeon’s garb approached. Optimism sparked a smile on the doctor’s face and a confident stride in his walk. Chase placed a comforting arm around Lisette as they both looked up, hoping for good news.
Excerpt from Chapter 25 of The Wright Spy
“Who put the belt around her leg?” asked the doctor.
“I did,” said Chase.
“Then you did more to save her life than I did. I successfully removed a bullet that was close to the spine. There was no permanent damage. You saved her life by stopping the bleeding. She would have bled out in minutes without your action.”
I never planned for my spy story to spill over into a second book. When my original book went to over 400 pages, I thought that might be a little intimidating for some readers. Following my wife’s suggestion, I split it into two books. When I think about it, the greatest book of all was split into two parts-the Bible. I humbly submit that my books are nothing compared to the Bible, but there are similarities. For example, the first book lays the groundwork for what was to come and the second ends with a more than satisfying revelation.
Deciding where to split the original book was easier than I would have thought. I had written a natural break in the story at about 200 pages. This was the point where my main character was between missions and taking the time to contemplate his future. In particular, he was recalling all the beautiful women he had encountered. He was looking for that special woman to be his wife, wondering if she was among the women he knew or the mystery woman whose face he had never seen.
Finally, this book is an example of me fixing something that didn’t quite work for me, although it was often wildly popular with others. I’m referring to the lack of integrity of a main character based on his priorities. His inability to save the damsels’ lives and their attachment to evil also needed changed in my unique and narrow concept of what makes a good story. I will close this blog with a question and my answer. If I followed popular opinion and ignored my own feelings, what kind of person would that make me? Hypocrite comes to mind.