2022 BookEnds Fellow Rachael Warecki reflects on working with longtime BookEnds mentor Matthew Klam.
“Do you consider yourself stoic?”
It was early February, three weeks into working with my mentor, Matt Klam, and we were discussing my protagonist’s emotional arc—or lack thereof. My novel, The Split Decision, is a speculative hardboiled noir, set in an alternate version of 1947 Los Angeles in which there are more women than men and California is on the verge of seceding from the United States. Against this backdrop, my homicide detective protagonist, Rita Mitchell, must solve the murder of a man she vaguely knows from her home neighborhood. I’d oomphed up the plot, thanks to help from my BookEnds pod throughout the fall. I’d tied the novel’s themes more clearly into the whodunit. But I couldn’t nail Rita’s emotional journey—the heart of the book.
I described the methods I’d tried so far and where they’d failed. I’d written small moments that were supposed to brim with symbolism and significance, only for them to read as limp and meaningless. I’d tried writing emotions as experienced through Rita’s physical sensations, only to have beta readers ask if she was on the verge of a migraine or seizure (I have these conditions, but my protagonist does not). I’d sidled up to Rita’s feelings, crab-like and obliquely, only to scamper right over them in favor of more plot.
Matt’s follow-up questions felt like a therapeutic intervention, writer-style, and at first I was hesitant to engage. I didn’t see how my feelings related to Rita’s emotional journey, especially since my attempts to imbue my protagonist with some of my own reactions had flopped. I’d followed that old adage, write what you know, but what I knew wasn’t relatable, at least thus far. “I don’t think I know how to write the emotional reactions that people seem to want,” I confessed. “I don’t experience emotions at that volume.”
Which is when Matt asked me if I was a stoic.
That question, and the conversation that followed, allowed me to view my protagonist’s emotional arc in a whole new light: I could let her be cold, dissociative, and alienating to all but a few of the novel’s other characters. Matt told me that Rita didn’t have to project all her emotions to the cheap seats. In fact, it made sense, based on her background and job, that action would be her reaction. But, Matt added, readers needed to understand why this was Rita’s way of dealing with fraught situations, and they needed to understand it right from the get-go.
I ended up writing a new beginning to my second chapter, in which I put my novel’s mystery plot aside and let Rita get messy. I showed why she had worked so hard to cultivate a stable life, and then gave her nine pages in which to feel out of control beyond the parameters of her job, in a situation not of her making, and to lose her shit. When I re-read this chapter toward the end of the semester, I saw how it worked on multiple levels. Not only did it give the reader necessary insight into Rita’s psyche, it also foreshadowed her brutal reactions to later events in the novel, when the case’s chaos upends her sense of normalcy.
Without Matt’s guidance—in particular, that therapy-style discussion of my protagonist, in which I felt seen and normalized and validated as a writer, and which prepared me to get to work—I never would have had the insight needed to write a scene just for the sake of the novel’s emotional journey. It was a concept I returned to again and again throughout my revisions. By letting my characters be more human in ways that aren’t always easily categorized or understandable, I’ve made The Split Decision into a more compelling page-turner, with the novel’s emotional stakes given as much weight and consideration as the intricacies of the plot.
Rachael Warecki is a MacDowell Fellow whose short fiction has earned recognition in contests held by Tiferet, Glimmer Train, and American Short Fiction, in addition to being published in various literary journals. Her work has also received support through residencies at the Ragdale Foundation and the Wellstone Center. She is a graduate of the Antioch University Los Angeles MFA program, was a 2021–22 BookEnds Fellow, and is originally from Los Angeles, where she currently resides.
Fabulous, Rachael!