Losing Tempers, Mine and Hers

I’m revising a scene today in which Gaia loses her temper.  I don’t like losing my temper.  It makes me unjust and unable to think clearly.  I fight not to say hurtful things I’ll regret and yet I also want to be honest about my rage.  In the moment, I want to lash out, and since only people I love have the ability to truly make me furious, they’re my targets.

Since I don’t like myself when I’m in a flare of anger, I don’t like Gaia that way, either.  But you know what?  I think it’s important to have a character who blows it sometimes, and not just with nice, tidy, honest mistakes that can be fixed later.  She can make emotional mistakes, too, and feel icky and ashamed afterward.  She can struggle with apology, with the strained distance that follows a fight, and with the ensuing loneliness that’s her own fault.

It’s risky having a beloved character demonstrate unadmirable qualities.  You’re trusting that readers will understand her and forgive her, but they might be turned off instead, or think an outburst isn’t consistent with her character.  It helps if her feelings are so recognizable that we can see ourselves in her, and understand why her circumstances would trigger an extreme reaction.  There should be underlying pressures that combine with the immediate conflict in the dialogue to push her over the edge.  She should think something ugly and unfair, even if she manages to curb it back somewhat when she speaks, so the reader can feel the war inside her.  It’s safer if she loses her temper only about things that matter.

I know it’s fiction, but the feelings of writing are real, so writing about lost tempers is uncomfortable at best.  I must say, it helps to know there’s a cookie in the kitchen and I can take a break before I move onto the next scene.