The Main Character
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Linda woke up one Autumn morning and was surprised to discover that she was the main character in an illogicopedia article. She didn't suspect it initially, but after several minutes of lying in bed she noticed the unmistakable tingling feeling in her stomach that told her she was in the spotlight.
It had been several long months since Linda had used a mixture of zany antics and subversive crime to make herself the main character of another illogicopedia article, Gertrude. Since then, she had been bombarded with money from big corporations and fast food restaurants. They wanted her to endorse their products, since she was now a big star. She had agreed to do several commercials for a toothepaste company ("A main character needs shiny, white teeth. That's why I brush my teeth with Klegg Toothpaste, the only toothpaste in the world that contains white paint."), and was given a small fortune for her endorsement. With the money, she purchased a small home in the country, and settled down to retire there, hoping to live off her earnings for being a main character in Gertrude.
She had never imagined that she'd end up in another article. Yet here she was, sitting on her bed, knowing full-well that she was a main character.
At first, when she discovered that she was a part of an article, she assumed that she was merely a supporting character or maybe even a cameo. She stayed lying in bed for a full twenty minutes, waiting for another main character to show up. But nobody did. She was completely deserted, aside from a pair of slugs sitting on her windowsill. "So I'm the main character!" she said aloud, "Great. All the readers are gonna see me in the morning, before I've combed my hair. If he was gonna write another story about me, TEH could have at least waited to start the story until after I'd had my morning shower."
She remained sitting on her bed, lost in indecision. What would she do? Her first inclination was to go back to sleep and hope that the illogicopedia readers would grow bored of reading about somebody sleeping. But she knew she wouldn't be able to get to sleep; she wouldn't be able to calm herself down enough. It's hard to be calm when you know that your every move is being read by other people in the real world. "I wonder what kind of article this is," she said aloud, "It's illogicopedia, but nothing wierd or illogical has happened yet. It's just a normal morning. It's just me sitting on my bed. Nothing surreal, nothing humorous...nothing! Maybe it's supposed to be some sort of minimalist story, with nothing in it but me sitting in my bedroom! It can be a symbolic statement about people living dull lives where all they do is sit around and wait for mealtimes! Yes, I can see that. Well, if that's what it's supposed to be, I'll gladly play along."
She sat in her bed and stared into space, doing absolutely nothing. She was silent. After five minutes, she couldn't take it any longer. "It's too abstract. Plus, my ass is getting sore. Screw that." She stood up and grabbed her phone. She decided to call her father, who lived in a nursing home in Orlando. Hopefully their dialogue could be the triggering point for a story of some sort. Perhaps he'd invite her to visit him in Florida. Perhaps she could invite him to her little countryside cottage.
"Hello?" said her father's weary voice.
"Guess what, dad? I've got great news!"
"I don't particularly care."
"Oh, but you will care. I'm the main character of an illogicopedia article!"
"Didn't that already happen?"
"Yes, but this time it's different. I had no warning. I just woke up and all of a sudden, WHAM! I was the main character. I was kind of hoping you could provide some plot suggestions. Or something."
"You've gotta be kidding me. You woke me up for THIS?"
"Dad! Come on, hear me out! You could fly over from Orlando and we could have some sort of zany adventure together! You're a wacky character! Much more interesting than I am! Together, I'm sure we'd make a great team. Maybe our article could get featured, if our adventure was wacky enough! We could go on a voyage through a desert! Or we could try and make a living my selling edible mud! With a pair of characters as wacky as we are, the satirical possibilities are ENDLESS!"
"Look, you little pest. I don't really care about your 'satirical possibilities.' I don't care HOW many articles you're stuck in. I'm 100 years old. I haven't left the nursing home in 25 years."
"Wow...don't you get bored? What do you do all day?"
"I sit in my wheelchair, eat baby food, and wonder when I'm gonna die. Thanks for asking."
He hung up.
"Goodness," said Linda to the empty room, "What bleak dialogue. Maybe this article is meant to be a bleak, dark comedy." And yet, as she thought this over and looked out her window, something didn't seem to fit this theory. It was a gorgeous day. Her backyard was full of trees with golden and red leaves. Birds were singing. The morning sun was causing the dew to sparkle invitingly. Everything outside her window seemed peaceful and sublime. "That's not dark humor," she said as she stepped closer to the window, "If this article was a dark comedy, there'd be billboards out there, and concrete, and gunshots, and other dystopian stuff. As is, it's all placid and calm. This must be a different type of article. But what?"
She decided to wait to see if a supporting character would show up to give her some help. But after an hour, she heard no knock on the door. The phone refused to ring. "Fine," she said aloud, "If the author won't give me a supporting character, I'll find one for myself."
She wandered outside and over to the next-door neighbor's house. She knocked on the door, and an old woman answered. "Hello?"
"Hi, I'm Linda. I'm the main character of an illogicopedia article."
"Really? Which one?"
"I don't know. The article just started a few paragraphs ago. I don't know what the title of the article is. I actually know nothing about the article. That's my problem. I have no idea why I'm stuck here in this main character position."
"Wait...you mean the article's going on right now?"
"Yep. You're in it. And I certainly hope that you're an interesting character."
"I've...never been in an article before..." the old woman started to blush. "I...uh...uh..."
"For God's sake, don't start stammering! I need your help!"
"What? MY help?"
"Yeah. Well, come to think of it, you probably won't be much help. You're just a useless old woman. I wish you'd been a more helpful character."
"Well...have you been in any other articles? Maybe you could call a supporting character from another article?"
"AHA! I'll call one of the characters from Gertrude for advice!!!"
Linda started running back toward her house. The old woman turned to go back into her cottage, but Linda yelled for her to follow. The old woman shrugged and hobbled after Linda.
They got into Linda's house, where Linda grabbed a phone and dialed Inspector Walnut, the man who had been the main character of Gertrude before Linda conquered his role.
An exhausted man's voice answered the phone. "Who is it?"
"It's me. Linda."
"YOU again? You ruined my life. Go annoy somebody else."
"WAIT! I need some advice on how to be a good main character."
"Well, you don't want any advice from me. I was a lousy main character. I failed. And now I've been fired from the police force."
"You have?"
"Yeah. The cheif was furious at me for failing to capture you. But he didn't stop after firing me. I was kind of expecting him to fire me. The real surprise came when he cut my arm off."
"Yikes."
"Yeah. I was expecting to get sacked, but losing my arm was a bit of a shock. You know those times when you feel like you're gonna fart, but instead you end up pooping in your pants a little bit? It was like that, except more unpleasant and infinitely less hilarious."
"Wow."
"So yeah, you're on your own. I'm really not in the mood to help you after what you did to me. I hope the ending of your article's a little happier than the ending of mine." He hung up.
"What happened?" asked the old woman.
"Walnut wasn't any help," said Linda, "He just complained in a vaguely satirical way. But I'm not any closer to understanding why I'm in this article, and what this article's all about. I wish I knew what I was supposed to do."
"Well, I can't be of any help. I'm just an uninteresting old woman."
Linda suddenly got another idea. "I'll call Melville Amsterdam!" said Linda, "He was the main character of one of the first EPICs ever! If anyone could provide advice on how to be an interesting main character, HE could! Maybe I could even ask him out on a date! This could be a love story! With Melville on board, this would surely become an EPIC!"
Linda opened a phone book and looked up Melville Amsterdam's name. To her dismay, his entry read:
"How surreal!" exclaimed Linda, "But useless in helping me figure any of this out."
"Maybe you and I are meant to go on a zany road trip, and then learn heartwarming life lessons from each other?" said the old woman. "I could help you come to terms with your guilt about what you did in the Gertrude article, and you could help me come to terms with my guilt about what I forced my husband to do with the hairdyer all those years ago."
"I just wish there was a SIGN somewhere of what I'm supposed to do!!!" screamed Linda, running her hands through her hair. "How can I just have been PLOPPED in to this article with no indication of what I was supposed to do or where I was supposed to go? Honestly, there's been no plot developments, no unexpected visit from a stranger at the door, no evil corporation trying to steal my land, no charming man for me to have a romantic comedy with, no satirical characters surrounding me, nothing but me, sitting here, trying to figure out what the hell to do with myself!!!"
She ran to her bedroom, the old woman following close behind. "MAYBE I'LL FIND SOMETHING IN HERE THAT'LL POINT ME IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION!!!" said Linda hysterically, "MAYBE I'LL FIND A SECRET TREASURE MAP, OR A TRAP DOOR, OR A CABINET OPENING UP TO A MAGICAL WORLD!!!!!"
Linda ripped the mattress off her bed, and found no hidden secrets underneath. She ran down to the kitchen and came back upstairs with a knife, which she used to tear the mattress apart. "MUST BE SOMETHING HIDDEN IN HERE!" she said, close to hysterics. "THE MATTRESS IS ALWAYS THE HIDING PLACE IN STORIES!!!!"
"Nothing there," said the old woman, who was growing increasingly alarmed. "I think I should go..." she walked away.
"NO COME BACK YOU MIGHT BE AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER!!!" screamed Linda, her voice cracking slightly. The old woman stood on the edge of Linda's bedroom, looking sadly at Linda. "MAYBE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GIVE ME ENLIGHTENING WISDOM! OR MAYBE YOU'RE A SERIAL KILLER WITH A SPLIT PERSONALITY! But DON'T LEAVE!!!"
Linda turned to her dresser and started ripping the shelves out, tossing aside papers, clothing, and breakable items. She let out a frustrated scream and tipped the dresser over, shattering the mirror and sending her belongings across the floor at random.
"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!?!" she screamed. "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? WHAT'S THE STORY?! WHAT'S THE POINT?!?!?!"
The old woman's eyes suddenly widened. "What if THIS is the story?"
"What do you mean?"
"What if the story is about you trying to figure out what's going on."
"You mean...the POINT of the story is me being so hysterical that I tear my room apart?"
"No no no, what if the point is your search for meaning? What if this is meant as a comforting thing for readers? After all, in real life, convenient happenstances don't launch you on adventures that end with a neat little moral. Everything's messy and confusing. You're plopped in to the world with no clue what to do with your time there, and maybe the point of the story is not to drive yourself crazy trying to find what your 'one true purpose' is, but instead to simply enjoy your time and find a purpose that is satisfying to YOU. Maybe the point is to not worry about the grand scheme of things, but instead to simply cherish your life, enjoy getting to experience an adventure even if it's a baffling one, enjoy the incomparable gift of being a conscious being, and cherish the people around you."
"You know, you're right. If I spend the remainder of my time stressing out about why I'm a part of this article, I'll ruin the experience for myself. I'll be so focused on trying to find the answers that I'll miss out on everything going on around me. Maybe there are some things it's best to just admit that you don't know. Maybe that's part of the experience. Admitting that you're in a big mystery, and it's okay if you don't have all the answers."
"There's a big world out there." said the old woman, "A lot of experiences to be had. Nobody knows what kind of story they're in. They just have to experience it."
Linda took a deep, steadying breath, and looked back out at the beautiful forest surrounding her house, with some leftover dew from that serene, peaceful morning still gleaming on the plants. The two slugs she saw that morning were still on her windowsill, also looking peaceful, unconcerned about the point of the article and simply enjoying life. "You're right," she said. "You know, I think I could learn a lot from you. We've lived next door to each other for years and we barely interact. Want to have lunch?"
"Sure," said the old woman, "As long as the restaurant has liquified pumpkin mush, it's the only thing I can eat."
Linda felt the tingly feeling of main characterdom fading away from her, which told her that she had reached the conclusion that TEH had meant for her. She suddenly felt self-conscious knowing the eyes of the reader were upon her and the end of the article was near. What could she do to give the article a satisfying conclusion? She now knew that the theme of the article was accepting that you can't know everything in one easy answer and still being happy with life. But what could she do to show the readers she was satisfied with not knowing the answers? She shrugged. "Sorry, readers, I'm just a person like the rest of us and I can't think of anything profound to say," she said.
"You're talking to the readers directly?" said the old woman incredulously.
Linda shrugged. "The article was pretty damn surreal already if it's entire plotline was about me not knowing what to do as the main character. If the story really was meant to be a metaphorical comfort for real-life people who don't know where to take THEIR lives, it seems appropriate for me to talk straight to them. Besides, I couldn't think of anything else to do. So if you don't mind I'll carry on."
Linda wasn't sure which way to look when addressing the readers. After all, they weren't actually there. She just felt that prickly sensation that told her that her story was being read by illogicopedia's seven or so readers. She picked up a peice of the shredded mattress and decided that addressing it would do.
"Anyway, readers," she said, looking at the mattress, "As I said, I'm sorry I can't think of some heartwarming thing to do or say to bring this to a satisfying conclusion. As I said, I'm just a person. I hope in my brief time in the Main Character spot, I gave you something interesting to think about. I hope you didn't have too hard a time visualizing me; I can't believe how vague TEH's descriptions of me are. He basically says I'm a woman and that's it. Picture me with a second nose on my forehead. Did TEH never mention that? What a slacker. Anyway I can tell my time's almost up. I'm sorry you'll miss out on my lunch appointment with the Old Woman Character (no name for the character? Sheesh), I imagine that part would have been fun to read. Anyway, whatever's been worrying you over the last few days, whatever stresses you out and makes you feel inadequate, whatever makes you feel frustrated with life in this bizarre world, try not to let it drag you down for long. It's a gift to get to be a part of whatever world you're in. Don't spend all that time worrying about the meaning of it all, just be thankful for the fact that it exists and you exist and you get to be a part of it. Good luck!"
Linda felt the sudden easing of tension that told her she had hit upon the Moral. She relaxed and smiled. "Alright, let's get this mess picked up and then we'll get that lunch."
The Dent