I can’t get the girl out of my mind. I worry about her. I want to know what happened to her after the book ended.
Throughout most of Elizabeth George’s Missing Joseph, I found the 13-year-old character Maggie Spence exasperating in the way a lot of teens are. Lying to her mother, sneaking out to rendezvous with a boy she was forbidden to see, engaging in sex long before she was capable of dealing with it emotionally. I wanted to shake some sense into her.As the story threads came together, though, and I saw the full horror of this girl’s situation, I began to fear for her. How on earth could she emerge whole and healthy from the tangle of deceit created by the adults in her life? She couldn’t. My last glimpse of her in the book was one of the most heart-wrenching scenes I’ve ever read. George made the girl so real, her predicament so disastrous and her emotional response so raw that I will never forget her.
I want Elizabeth George to bring her back in another book and tell me what has happened to her. I suspect the news wouldn’t be good, but I still want to know. This character will haunt me until I learn her ultimate fate.
It may be a form of torture, but I have to applaud writers who can make me care so much about their fictional characters that I worry about them after the books end or mourn the loss when they’re killed off. I can’t help contrasting my feelings for the girl with my reaction when Helen, wife of George’s detective Tommy Lynley, was shot and killed. For some reason, Helen never seemed quite real to me, and I never liked her. I was, frankly, glad to see her go. Helen’s ghost, in designer shoes, does not haunt me.
I’ve created one character of my own who haunts me: Rachel’s mother, Judith Goddard, in The Heat of the Moon. I gave her a terrible background and more pain than anyone should have to bear. A lot of readers have told me they hated her, and my impulse every time has been to defend her. I’m grateful when someone says they felt sympathy for her and understood why she clung so fiercely to Rachel and her sister and tried so hard to remain in control. Her awful childhood, and the heartbreak she endured as an adult, are very real to me and so is her emotional distress. Although I wouldn’t have had a story without all those events, I find myself wishing I could have made life a little easier for her.
The legacy of a haunting character is something I take away from very few novels, but every book offers the possibility of encountering memorable characters. That’s the reason I read fiction. The characters, not the plot details and certainly not the blood and gore of murder, make a book memorable.
What characters have continued to haunt you long after you finished reading the books? Do you want the authors to produce sequels that will show you what has become of those characters -- even if the news is bad -- or would you rather go on wondering?

11 comments:
I've often thought about writing the stories of characters who have stuck with me, especially if those characters are now in the public domain. In Booth Tarkington's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel Alice Adams poor Alice ends the novel by climbing the stairs to the secretarial school, finally understanding that she will not be the social debutante she expected to be. I've imagined her subsequent story in great detail since I finished that book (both times). Similarly, she had a brother who had to be smuggled to Mexico to escape some gambling debts (how these things were done in those days). What became of him? Did he ever return to Indianapolis? These kinds of things fire my imagination sometimes.
I think you should write Alice's story, Paul. I wish I could write Maggie Spence's, but Elizabeth George might object. :-)
I sometimes wonder about Kate in The Taming of the Shrew -- how long would she put up with Petruchio after that wedding?
I'm thinking murder would be done sooner or later.
And how I wish Tony Hillerman could show us more of Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee.
Vicki, I feel the same way about Hillerman, Joe, and Jim. When a beloved writer dies, the loss is greater because all his characters die with him.
The same problem occurs when an author is forced to put a character on hiatus because a series is dropped. I have two books on my shelf that are the final ones in series that have ended. Series I love. (Laura Durham's Annabelle Archer series and S.W. Hubbard's Frank Bennett series.) And I can't bring myself to read either of these books because then I know the series would really be over.
Who owns the character when a series is ended? The publisher or the author?
It seems to me that if the author still owns the character that she could continue him/her in short stories. It would be a way to carry on or to provide some kind of closure.
The author typically does own his/her characters (though I've heard of some publisher contracts that state otherwise). And yes, that short-story route is indeed a possibility. In fact, S.W. Hubbard has had at least one short story come out with her series characters after the series officially ended. And yet I'm still hording the last book in the series on my shelf.
I played one of the mean old ladies in the local production of To Kill a Mockingbird, and that book is alive. Killing Joseph has stuck with me, too. I've been reading a lot of Henning Mankell, a Swedish author, and some of his killers make me shiver.
Sandra,
I'm pretty sure that Boo went back to living alone in his house, because Scout said, didn't she, that she never saw him again. But of course Boo's life would have been better, because even as a recluse he would be able to escape a certain oppression. And I'm sure he always looked out for Scout and Jem.
I'd love to see Scout and Jem in later life too!
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