A relative had
recommended a series, and after watching the first episode I let him know I
didn’t think I’d watch the rest.
He was aghast. “It’s
the best series I ever saw,” said my dear family member. “It got me thinking
about so many questions and had so many twists and turns.”
Yes, that’s the
plot. A whole town full of characters. Mysterious occurrences, once begun, continue
to baffle as they go on and on. Good premise.
The problem was
that I found every single person in the town unlikable. Not in an interesting
sort of way what’s-with-him/her unlikable, but in a dull nothing-to-like-here
mode.
My relative
lamented that his wife also dismisses stories (be they books or movies) when
she doesn’t like the main character. “I just don’t get it,” he added.
Here’s the best explanation
I can give on this matter. Spending the
most precious thing I have, time, in
a place I don’t like or with people I don’t like, is something I won’t do
unless compelled to by law.
We all occasionally have to. It might be family, or a job. But we’d be wise not to do so for longer than necessary.
Reading a book or
watching a movie is very much like hanging out in their time, place, and with
their characters. What happens there can be interesting. But without liking someone in that world, I’m out of there,
thank you.
And so I left that
series, which incidentally is named The
Leftovers. I may give it another try someday. Who knows, never say never.
But the feeling that I choose who to hang out with when I begin a story is
forever. Same for the ones I write.
