As a writer,
I must admit that I’ve always been more comfortable creating female characters
than delving into the minds of the male characters in my books. This is
because, as a woman, I find it easy to create realistic female characters.
However, getting inside the mind of a man is a completely different story.
Of course
men and women are human beings before anything else, and human nature is well…
human nature. However men and women also have many differences, and recently
I’ve been reading a number of books about these differences. One such tome is
Dr. Marianne J. Legato’s Why Men Never Remember & Women Never Forget
where she writes about the nature and importance of the differences between men
and women and how we really are wired differently physically, emotionally and
mentally.
This means,
as a writer, I need to ensure that my male characters think and act like men! I
don’t struggle to write about a male character’s actions, as it’s easy to
observe and describe those from an objective point of view. But I do hesitate
when I’m about to write a male character’s innermost thoughts down on paper.
I’ve asked my father, brother and an assortment of male friends in the past to
read my manuscripts in order to let me know whether I’ve created realistic
thoughts for my male characters.
Overthinking such things can lead to stilted attempts at creating characters of the opposite sex, however, so sometimes it’s best to take a risk, rely on instinct, and trust that if what you’re writing makes sense to you as a novelist, it’ll strike a chord with your readers as well.
In my latest novel, The Blog Affair, my main female character sets up a blog in an attempt to analyse the shortfalls of men that she calls “serial datists”. Here is an extract from her blog:
PENELOPE’S
PANTRY
…A
PLACE FOR YOU TO POINT OUT YOUR VIEW
Serial
Datism
The
first time I ever met a serial datist, I was nineteen years old. At that age, I
wasn’t capable of recognising the warning signs of this particular species of
the human male. Needless to say, I got burned. Badly.
Serial datism is a concept I’ve
been pondering recently. And it’s something I hope to examine in this blog. Any
comments from readers are welcome, therefore, as I attempt to shed light on a
variety of the dating male that has me completely bemused.
The
best way to do this, I’ve decided, is to debate in an open forum—where I, and
any other participants in the discussion, can flick on the switch, in a manner
of speaking, and illuminate the matter.
I
attract serial datists, and so it is perfectly fitting that I should introduce
this topic into cyber space. But this doesn’t mean I’m an expert at identifying
them. You see, the tricky thing about serial datists is that they aren’t easily
defined.
They
come in many shapes and sizes and forms, and they may even mutate! They can
start off in one form and end up in quite another shape and size within a small
space of time. And therein lies their danger.
Okay—to
introduce myself. I’m Penelope (well, that’s one of my names) and this blog is
called Penelope’s
Pantry, because like Penelope from ancient Greek mythology, I’ve had loads
of suitors in my life.
And
the pantry part? Well, a pantry is a dark storeroom, and this is where I hope
to stockpile my thoughts and feelings and emotions. On neatly stacked shelves,
of course. I’m a fanatically neat person, and like things to be tidy.
So
let’s start at the very beginning (my ordered mind demands this) with a
definition of a serial datist: He is a male who, like a bee, goes from one
woman to the next, landing on each female blossom for a short period of time.
When he leaves, he stings them.
But
unfortunately, unlike a bee, a serial datist doesn’t die after he stings. He
goes on to sting again and again, and the only way to kill him is to swat him,
or stomp on him with your heel. Or leave out a bowl of sugared water in which
he can drown. But, on second thoughts, I think the latter technique is for
ants....
Be
that as it may, before anyone starts wondering whether I’m a convicted killer,
I hasten to assure you I am not. I’ve certainly felt a strong desire to stomp
on the various bees that have entered my life, but fortunately for these
creatures, the thought of killing causes me to break out in hives.
Therefore,
it is only a fantasy I have indulged in from time to time.
Now
that we’ve cleared up the fact that I’m not a murderer, I would like to point
out that the bee who delivers his nasty stings is the real killer in the
scenario. Why? Well, it’s obvious. He kills your feelings, and leaves your
emotions bleeding to death. Some more pedantic readers out there might point
out that bee stings don’t cause you to bleed. So what—I’m using it in a
figurative sense.
But,
and here I’m not being figurative at all, bees can make you swell up. Besides
the fact that their stings can cause you to comfort-eat, it is possible to
develop a life-threatening allergy to them. And I’m afraid that’s what’s
happened to me. I am allergic to serial datists AKA bees AKA Emotionally
Unavailable Men.
But
I’m jumping ahead of myself. That is simply one of the categories of serial
datists. According to my calculations, there are at least four others.
Allow
me to list them:
1)
The afore-mentioned Emotionally Unavailable Male
2)
The Wannabe Player
3)
The Commitment-Phobe
4)
The Bad Boy
5)
The Misogynist (before he finds a woman to control)
I
will be examining each category in more detail later. But in the meantime—any
comments from readers on what I’ve already expounded are most welcome.
BLURB:
Twenty-something, white,
South African Emma Bradshaw has a pattern of falling for unsuitable men and
starts a blog about these so-called “serial datists”. Her search for new
beginnings takes her to Cape Town, where she gets a job working for sexy
author, Nick Reynolds. Romance with her boss is a no-no, but slowly, Nick works
his way around her defenses. Trust him, or not, especially with her awful track
record with men?
When an anonymous male reader of the blog challenges her on her ideas about the male species, Emma realises she must confront her past and find her true self before she can move forward...and love can blossom again in her future.
When an anonymous male reader of the blog challenges her on her ideas about the male species, Emma realises she must confront her past and find her true self before she can move forward...and love can blossom again in her future.
AUTHOR
BIO:
Alissa
Baxter was born in South Africa, and grew up with her nose in a book on a
poultry and cattle farm. After school and university, where she majored in
Political Science and French, she published her first novel, The Dashing Debutante. Alissa travelled
to London, England, and did an odd assortment of jobs while researching her
second novel, Lord Fenmore’s Wager,
which she wrote after she moved back to South Africa and settled in Durban.
Alissa then relocated to Cape Town where she wrote her third novel, Send and Receive, before moving to
Johannesburg, where she currently lives with her husband and two sons.
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/alissa_baxter
Website:
www.alissabaxter.com
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LINKS:
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