| General Fiction posted February 1, 2024 |
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An exercise in futility?
Your Favorite Fiction Character
by Wayne Fowler
My wife read something online and then asked me who my favorite fictional character was. How do you answer that? I didn’t know, so rather than ignore my beautiful bride, which I would never do, I blurted a response that I knew would meet her approval, “Gus McCrae. Or Newt.” Of course, everyone will recognize Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove.” Endearing, loveable, loyal, brave and competent. What’s not to like?
“Scout, from Mockingbird,” she offers.
“But Atticus is the hero,” I replied to an expression of a straight-faced emoji. “Or maybe Bilbo, for escape and adventure.” Tolkien’s hobbit could easily own a reader’s imagination. “But Frodo, if you were going to be honest about it: youth, valor, responsibility, compassion… Or maybe Spiderman,” I remark, changing the medium but remaining true to the concept.
“Or Thor,” my wife counters, her eyes doing something weird that I try to ignore. “But that’s like trying to name your favorite Beatles song. It depends on too many factors. You can’t name just one.”
“Wouldn’t it be easy to prove?” I ask. “How many times you’ve reread a book, rewatched Genie of I Dream of Genie on your big screen TV, or called up a particular song on YouTube? How can Dorothy not be a person’s favorite if The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is the only movie they’ve seen five hundred times?”
“Or Ralphie of A Christmas Story?” she counters.
I respond with a shuddering tremor. “The Lone Ranger, Rocky Balboa, The Terminator?” My expression is a taunt that is quickly returned.
“Gilligan, or Ritchie, or Doogie Hauser?”
“Ellie May, or Ginger, or Taylor Swift?” I retort, cheating with the inclusion of Taylor, which my wife allows since we’re talking pure fiction, anyway. “Curly Joe,” I said, soliciting my desired response, a priceless, undefinable, by me, expression of something between disgust and incredulity.
“It’s all too subjective,” she replies after a moment’s hesitation. “There are too many. And it depends on your mood, or …”
“What you had for breakfast,” I finish.
We both offer silence, unable to settle on a satisfying conclusion to the dilemma. Finally, I say “Ohmie.” Ohmie, of course, is a fictional character of my own – 80-some short stories and a novella-length tale. A boy mostly, but some stories of him in adulthood.
“Ohmie,” my wife agrees.
My wife read something online and then asked me who my favorite fictional character was. How do you answer that? I didn’t know, so rather than ignore my beautiful bride, which I would never do, I blurted a response that I knew would meet her approval, “Gus McCrae. Or Newt.” Of course, everyone will recognize Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove.” Endearing, loveable, loyal, brave and competent. What’s not to like?
“Scout, from Mockingbird,” she offers.
“But Atticus is the hero,” I replied to an expression of a straight-faced emoji. “Or maybe Bilbo, for escape and adventure.” Tolkien’s hobbit could easily own a reader’s imagination. “But Frodo, if you were going to be honest about it: youth, valor, responsibility, compassion… Or maybe Spiderman,” I remark, changing the medium but remaining true to the concept.
“Or Thor,” my wife counters, her eyes doing something weird that I try to ignore. “But that’s like trying to name your favorite Beatles song. It depends on too many factors. You can’t name just one.”
“Wouldn’t it be easy to prove?” I ask. “How many times you’ve reread a book, rewatched Genie of I Dream of Genie on your big screen TV, or called up a particular song on YouTube? How can Dorothy not be a person’s favorite if The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is the only movie they’ve seen five hundred times?”
“Or Ralphie of A Christmas Story?” she counters.
I respond with a shuddering tremor. “The Lone Ranger, Rocky Balboa, The Terminator?” My expression is a taunt that is quickly returned.
“Gilligan, or Ritchie, or Doogie Hauser?”
“Ellie May, or Ginger, or Taylor Swift?” I retort, cheating with the inclusion of Taylor, which my wife allows since we’re talking pure fiction, anyway. “Curly Joe,” I said, soliciting my desired response, a priceless, undefinable, by me, expression of something between disgust and incredulity.
“It’s all too subjective,” she replies after a moment’s hesitation. “There are too many. And it depends on your mood, or …”
“What you had for breakfast,” I finish.
We both offer silence, unable to settle on a satisfying conclusion to the dilemma. Finally, I say “Ohmie.” Ohmie, of course, is a fictional character of my own – 80-some short stories and a novella-length tale. A boy mostly, but some stories of him in adulthood.
“Ohmie,” my wife agrees.
 Recognized |
About 80 Ohmie stories have been posted here on FanStory, as well as 'The Best Time of Ohmie's Life'.
I apologize to my Australian friends for not including Crocodile Dundee. (smiley face here)
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. I apologize to my Australian friends for not including Crocodile Dundee. (smiley face here)
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© Copyright 2024. Wayne Fowler All rights reserved.
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