Sometimes, a character introduces themselves to you in such a fashion that you cannot ignore them. It is not a simple matter of them appearing to say hello and settling back down to wait their turn to be written. These characters storm into your life and disrupt even the most boring day to day tasks.
I have just been introduced to one of these characters, and he just refuses to pipe down. He stands here with all day long, whispering in my ears. Demanding that I stop what I am doing and tell his story. Now, I can understand why he is doing this. His tale is quite the one to tell. But I just cannot do it. Not yet.
Brother Jack is upset with me for this, and is starting to shout louder and louder, in the vain hope that I take heed of his words and give him the paper he needs to unburden his soul. Or maybe to trap yours.
You see, Brother Jack is not a nice man. He is a troubled man, whose backstory alone would be a novel that would make most people cringe, reincarnating those childhood fears of what happens in the dark. His story is one of a child forced to bear witness to all manner of horrific deeds and acts. Incidents that even a grown man should never have to witness. He was a child that was forced to grow up long ahead of his time. He was taught anger and rage ahead of love and compassion. He was a quick learner. Too quick in fact. For he learned not to shrink away from the things that were to him. Rather, he embraced them. He enjoyed them, and longed for the chance to be able to add his own twist on things. Brother Jack’s childhood was destroyed, but only he understood that he was not meant for childhood. He was someone else. He was something else. Trapped in the body of a child, he had an understanding of the world that transcended social acceptance.
Locked away from the world, a supposed punishment, Brother Jack found nourishment. In many ways, even though he lived for many years before it happened, he was not truly born until that fateful day. The day the fires were lit. The day of the burning.
These are his words. This is what he told me today. I do not know the full extent of what he endured, but I understand the sick obsession he developed with the ways of the world. The way things worked.
He is a loving man, and he cares deeply for those that he has welcomed into his circle. He educates them, and he is looking forward to being given the chance to educate you also.
Where did Brother Jack Come From?
Normally, when a character appears in my mind, I can trace where he came from. I can piece together the moments of my day that led to his creation. Brother Jack, however, is different. I cannot quite fathom when he came to be. He feels as if he is part of me. The more he talks, and the more I listen, for when Brother Jack talks, you cannot help but listen to him, the more I start to think that he was nor created, but born in the deepest corner of my mind. He was produced and now he has decided that this is his time to rise. He is not asking me to tell his story, he is telling it to me, and I feel compelled to pass it on. Maybe it is because what he has to say, is far too harrowing for even a man like me to take.
Obviously, Brother Jack is not his real name. It was the name he gave himself upon his second birth. He has a lot of people that listen to him. He has a lot of people out in the world who are willing to do what he asks, simply because he asks it. They do not question him, and are loyal to the extreme. You might say, if you feel so inclined as to try and categorize Brother Jack, that he is running a cult. The patriarch of a sect, a family, where every woman is Sister, and every man is merely a tool. You see Brother Jack likes the ladies, and whether they are willing to admit it or not, the ladies will love Brother Jack.
I am not ready to tell the story of Brother Jack. I only met him recently, and while he has not stopped his whisperings, he has done little to educate me in the wider construct of his life. As I have said several times, I have two other novels currently on the go, but I am fascinated by Brother Jack. I know he is not a nice man, not by the constraints of social opinion, but I like him. He has struck a chord with me, and I would feel as if I were abandoning him were I to just bury him in a few lines on a ‘Book Notes’ files somewhere in the corners of my Dropbox folder.
As should be the case with a man of his particular interests and desire, he is rather charismatic, and I am loathe to turn my back on him. So, while I cannot actually tell his story just yet, I am strongly considering giving him a regular post on my blog. A post devoted to the ‘Word of Brother Jack’. It will be his own place, where he can unburden himself, and introduce you all to his world. What do you think? Should I hand my blog over to a cult leader, and one of the most deranged, and dangerous individuals my brain has even conjured.
Brother Jack’s true image is still percolating in my brain, but I currently see him as a cross between Captain Spaulding and Bray Wyatt. He is a fairly large man, and he walks with a cane. He has a back injury at the moment, but once he has healed, he is a strong, strong man. I can’t wait to learn more about him, and I think giving him a place to preach will help me keep his development going, placate his yearning for attention, and still allow me the peace of mind to finish my current novels.
The only thing that worries me, well maybe no worries, because I love pushing buttons and boundaries, is that Brother Jack is certainly not for everybody, and to give him a place to sound his voice, dare I say a place to perfect his voice ahead of his big book debut, might cause some folks to run and hide from me, rather than following me. I will not censor the Brother Jack posts, they will be raw and real, I will probably use real time current affairs, mixed with a little hint of fiction to give him something to preach about each week, and maybe work on revealing small glimpses of his own character development as I go.
I know I have been saying this a lot lately, but I am really excited to explore Brother Jack and see how dark I can make him.
Another thing that concerns me is that maybe, just maybe, I am crossing too many lines with this one. Or rather, I could do, if someone is not there to reel me in from time to time. Boundaries are there to be broken, but how far is too far?