Character death is very real. When you’ve spent time with a character for so long, they become part of your history, your family, your very world, and when they’re gone, it can move you the same way losing a loved one does. Sure, it seems silly from the outside -- you’re emotional over someone completely imaginary -- but consider the fact that this person, their actions, emotions, and thoughts have been swirling around in your head for years. Whether you’re writing about them, or not, you still think about them; they are part of the fabric that makes up not only who you are, but also the story you’re writing. Doubly so if your story takes years to write and polish.

Yesterday, a character I never intended to die, died. It was as if I had no control over the situation, as if what spilled onto the virtual page of my writing program happened entirely of its own accord. I’ve known this character for years, and through all of this I knew that their story arc would one day end, but I never thought that it would end so soon. Of course, I could go back and undo what has been done, but what would be the point? Once committed, I must stay on this course and see where it leads. In reality, it’s strengthened the story, the characters around the event, and the arcs that spring from it. It’s also given us insight into how another particular character thinks and feels; insight that I believe will give us the ultimate pay off.

There was a time when I was terrified of characters dying. I tried my hardest to prevent it from happening. It was rather silly of me, considering people die unexpectedly every day, even those we love the most. There’s no way to stop it, and yet, in stories, I was ignorantly pushing back the inevitable. But when it finally happened, it was as if a great weight lifted from my shoulders, and made my writing feel more organic. I was able to move forward, and give the readers what they most desired: reality. Well, as much reality as the fantasy and science fiction genre will allow, but reality nonetheless. Even though this particular character is now gone, in their wake they have left something far greater than what even they themselves could ever have provided when they were still alive.

There are authors out there that I believe handle death graciously. There’s a great deal of pomp and circumstance in the deaths of some people’s work, such as Tolkien and McCaffery, and then there are the sudden deaths that completely shock you. James Clemens provides plenty of these in his The Banned and the Banished series. While reading, there were times when the death of a character was so shocking that I was unable to finish the paragraph for a few days. It affected me, because Clemens pulled no punches. When it happened, the person was here one moment, and gone the next. There was nothing anyone else could do. It resonated with the forces that affect life and death in our world, and it made me consider character death from an entirely new angle.

I don’t regret the character dying. I will mourn them only in the sense that they will no longer affect my story. Their particular oddities won’t grace the pages, and what actions they may have eventually taken won’t be part of the foundation that turns the pages from here onward, but they have left a lasting impression. And, in all honesty, it’s these impressions that make the best story imprints. After all, we read because we want to know, and we want to know because we are fascinated by the things around us, and without the threat of death, well, would we care as much? I don’t think we would.