Promises, Promises!

WE WILL MEET EVERY OTHER TUESDAY AT 7pm, AT PANERA BREAD.

Today is the day we strive to keep the promises we made to ourselves. As writers, we promise to complete our works-in-progress. We promise to carve out time for writing. We promise to hone our craft.

We also make promises to our readers. If we present a mystery early on in a story, there is an implied promise that it will eventually be solved in a satisfactory way (the "Chekhov's Gun" premise: if you have a pistol hanging on the wall in Act One, it must be fired in the last act).

More fundamentally, anytime we place a story in front of a reader, or a show in front of a viewer, we are making a promise to provide value in some form or another, whether it's simple entertainment or an emotional journey.

Promises are relatively easy to make. As writers it's fun to set up mysteries. It's exciting to place characters in frightful situations. And this is all great, but then we must work to solve the mysteries and resolve our character's dilemma. In other words, we must follow through on our promises, otherwise our readers feel betrayed (and for good reason).

A classic example of broken promises, in my humble opinion, is the TV series Lost. Right from the start the mysteries begin. A passenger jet crashes on an island, and strange things happen. For example, one passenger who was wheelchair bound is suddenly able to walk without difficulty. The mysteries keep piling up, and grow increasingly bizarre, so that viewers keep asking, "What is going on here?"

This goes on from season to season, and at one point time travel gets mixed in, and it eventually becomes apparent that none of it was really planned out ahead of time, and mostly likely the producers never expected the series to last long enough for them to have to deliver on the implied promises.

I began watching Lost with great excitement, but by the final season I kept tuning in merely out of a compulsive need for closure, even though by this time I knew damn well that the answers to all those mysteries would not be truly satisfying. The writers were desperately scrambling to connect the dots in any way possible.

Okay, the point of my little diatribe is that we, as writers, are obligated to keep whatever promises we make to our audience. And I'll be the first to admit that I have a score of unfinished works in which I set up an intriguing premise but have yet to follow through.

This year, let's follow through on our plans, achieve our goals, and fulfill our promises. Let's gather together to develop our literary skills and take our storytelling prowess to exciting new levels.

And one final note: Please respect the venue by purchasing at least one food or drink item. Thank you.