I’m a little superstitious. I don’t like six. Thirteen gives me the willies. A pie cut into six will eventually be subdivided into more pieces. I never put thirteen chocolate chips in a cookie when baking. If I have only six or thirteen coins left in my wallet, one unlucky penny will lose its cushy home.
The same goes for pieces of candy or cupcakes or crochet stitches. I better not see six bottles of Seagram’s Escapes in my refrigerator, either. I’d have to bring that number down. Thirteen pairs of socks? Oh, no, no, no.
I don’t have a problem with intangible sixes or thirteens. I don’t cower inside on Friday the Thirteenth. If my grocery list contains six items, I don’t have to write another down because of the number. Well, mainly because I know it’s rare for me to go to the store and stick to my list.
If I see a black cat, I don’t look the other way. If a black cat crosses my path, I wish it well on its journey with an Irish blessing to counteract its curse. Same thing with an owl. When I hear or see an owl, I don’t automatically believe he is the harbinger of my death. Maybe he’s foretelling the demise of the rodent he spotted for dinner.
The power of broken mirrors can be neutralized by putting as many pieces together as possible and looking into the reflection seven times before chunking it in the trash. Breaking the handle of a coffee cup isn’t a forecast of lost money as long as you break the entire cup. The number of pieces it breaks into is the amount of money you’ll see soon. Not such a big thing when you find the lucky amount in pennies, though.
Speaking of pennies, if you find a lone copper, pick it up and drop it for good luck. Find more than one, keep them all and the bad luck turns into good. Spilled salt? The old standby of tossing it over your shoulder works every time. Yell, “Salt!” first, though, so you don’t hit someone standing behind you in the face (I did that twice. Luckily, he forgave me both times).
Good luck, bad luck, it’s all in what you believe. However, good and bad luck in the written word is tricky. Actions create a ripple of reactions. Cause and effect signal the signs of a good tale. The domino syndrome mimics real life.
Overuse of bad luck takes strength away from a good story. Two of my favorite television shows, Southland and Person of Interest, had the same scene this week where a bad guy was being chased by a good guy. Unluckily for the bad guy, he didn’t look both ways before crossing the street and was hit by a fast moving truck.
After I saw the same scene a second time on a different show, my BS radar blinked on. Instead of developing the character of the bad guy and adding strength to the script, the writers got rid of him with a snarky remark about looking both ways before crossing the street. I think it was the same truck making crossover appearances. Both shows used the same quip. Both shows are very different, on different networks, and written by different writers.
I believe it was bad luck that the writers used the theme of losing a potential case-breaker to add tension to the episode. The storyline fell apart for me at that point. The fast-moving truck that makes the bad guy a hood ornament was too convenient. The ten-second scene brought me out of the world I was a part of while watching the show and back to reality with an “Oh, no, I know you didn’t just do that” feeling.
The same thing can (and does) happen in books. While it’s easier to get rid of a troublesome character by having him do a Frogger than it is to develop him, as a reader this type of kill-off leaves me feeling robbed. A number of times I’ve read about the sudden demise of an antagonist and I feel cheated out of getting to know what made the bad man tick.
Bad luck and good luck exist if you believe it. My personal good and bad luck quirks have become more habit than belief. Bad and good luck for characters is very real since we, the writers of books and scripts, control their fortunes.
I don’t like mannequins in a storyline. To me, every character counts. Good and bad characters need to feel real. I want to get to know them before pianos are dropped on their heads or owls call out their final exits.
J J Dare is the author of two published books, several short stories and thirty-plus works-in-progress.
Current enthusiasm is sharpening intangible knives and co-authoring at Rubicon Ranch
(Is that why I’ve had all this bad luck?! I learned “see a penny pick it up and all the day you’ll have good luck.” ) I liked this post, especially the ramble to the end. Poor series solutions for villains can leave you wondering why you bothered “suspending belief” in the first place.
You make a good point about authors relying on luck, either good or bad. It’s a shoddy technique and tells me the writer is lazy. Other writers disagree with me when I say every action needs to be motivated since luck and whim play a big part, but stories aren’t life. They are a microcosm. Since we cannot see the big picture in life as we do in stories, perhaps there is no luck or whim. Perhaps, the universe is really unfolding as it should.
I saw one of those scenes and had the same reaction. Too easy.
And who’s that delightful yawner in your pic?
That’s Yetta. She’s the grumpy queen of the house.
I have a thing for found pennies (and dimes), when they suddenly appear in an unexpected place. it seems to happen either when I’m struggling with something, or if I’m supposed to be aware of something–like being alerted to pay attention. So when that happens, I pick up the penny (or dime), say “thank you”, and put it in a mite box for missions.