Donald & Belle (not really)

My objective for Donald and Belle never was that they should meet – I never imagined fiction occurring at this crossroad. In my mind what was interesting was the struggle we – the “biographers” – had with each subject. But that, I suppose, is my own solipsistic way of conceptualizing the idea. The story I was seeing was a double memoir about the struggle to find our people.

But suppose they had met somewhere sometime. What would that be like? And could I ever construct such a meeting? I keep saying that fiction writers (turn away, all my fiction writing friends) don’t make stuff up, they simply write stuff down. This coalesces nicely with my belief that there is little distinction between fiction and nonfiction (a fiction author took great issue over this with me – life, apparently, is not plot). But as I attempt to write something that didn’t happen I become confused and stuck. (Apparently writing fiction is making stuff up.)

They both spent some formative years in Pennsylvania. She in Scranton, he in Pittsburgh (Pittsburgh? I’m not so sure). As I try putting them together I’m resistant. Because I don’t want my aunt – who probably suffered from depression and maybe a little manic-depression – to meet up with the crazy guy who murdered his wife. But I probably needn’t worry, he would not have appealed to her. She flitted from person to person, never making deep connections and often cutting off contact when it became too intrusive for her. She fought bitterly with her only living relatives, her sisters. Donald’s obvious charm (how else could a man who murdered not only his mother-in-law, but his wife get another woman to marry him) would not have seduced Belle. Why did Donald murder both women? Because he knew his wife would be sad to be without her mother. It was out of consideration.

So I couldn’t get them together. Not yet. But maybe a fictional entry is coming…a scene. Maybe.