Spoiler Alert! If you haven’t read Finding Faith, you may not want to read on, unless you like to have your reading experiences ruined.
Things you don’t usually hear at church:
While I was walking down the hallway in church, a neighbor and friend (?) yelled out to me, “Murderer!”
He is not a quiet, timid guy. Let’s call him “John”. When John speaks, neighborhood children jump. Dogs crawl whimpering under the nearest porch. Sometimes it’s vice versa.
I sidled up to the library counter. (Evil, knowing grin) “What did you hear?”
“You killed [name of beloved character in my first novel]!”
I shrugged, “Yeah, I did.”
I’m not even sorry.
His wife told me later, that he was even more surprised that I didn’t even flinch when he yelled out “Murderer!”
A couple of days later I received a lovely email from a reader in Iowa. She confessed to her daughter finding her in the bathtub, sobbing, when she read the part where [name of beloved character in my first novel] died.
Even more gratifying is picturing my neighbor, sitting in his tub (clothed, of course—what did YOU think?), sobbing his heart out, reading about the untimely demise of [name of beloved character in my first novel].
Not that crying over something like that is unmanly. I just think that crying about it, sitting in your bathtub, is an “in touch with your feminine side” kind of thing to do, especially for someone as big and manly as “John”!
It almost makes me want to knock off another fictional character.