Have you seen The Affair on Showtime? Whether you've seen it or not, today we're turning the show into a writing prompt.
Photo by Professor Bop (creative commons)
The Affair is about—surprise!—an affair between a man and a woman, both of whom are married to other people. It's a really interesting, character-driven drama that consistently leaves me thinking and feeling long after the episode is over.
One of the most compelling aspects of the show is its format. The first half of the episode tells a story from one character's point of view (e.g., the man), while the second half shows the same events from another character's point of view (e.g., the mistress or the wife).
The Affair is fascinating because what's important to one character is forgotten by another. While one person thinks they came across as composed, the other person remembers her as tense or angry.
This retelling from another perspective is great device and I think would make a wonderful practice!
Has a television show ever inspired your writing? Let me know in the comments.
PRACTICE
Here's how today's practice works:
- Take ten minutes to write about the scene in the above photo from the woman's point of view.
- Then take ten minutes to write the same scene from the man's point of view.
- When your time is up, share your practice in the comments section!
Have fun!
“Has a television show ever inspired your writing?” A resounding YES is my answer. I mean, I started writing with fanfiction based on the ’80s TV show Airwolf, and then, after receiving positive feedback on that writing, decided to branch into stories that are more original.
I was inspired to be a writer when, as a small child, I saw Captain Kirk finagling a cannon to defeat an alien lizard being (a Gorn) on our twenty-one inch Admiral black and white television set.
When I saw a little thing called Trilogy of Terror on that same Admiral B&W TV set, I coldly analysed the stories so I could figure out how they wrote the thing, then scared the carp out of my teacher when I presented to her a mummy tale I crafted.
Then, more recently, a short scene in Alien Resurrection inspired my story called Aidan, by causing me to consider the idea that artificial intelligence may have an inner spiritual life. I know that was a film, not a TV program, but it has been played on TV, right?
I suspect that both television and film have inspired a lot of writers over recent decades, as books and short stories have done so in the past.
Great post! I’ll be trying your tips xx
I’ve never seen that show but I love the idea of people having entirely different experiences based on their perspectives. That’s actually sort of what I’m basing my NaNoWriMo novel off of (4 different characters all go through the same experience but each has a different perspective).
Perspective 1:
Lara knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up on this date, but she did anyway and now she was paying the price. Her feet were killing her in these new sandals. Why did she wear new sandals to this first date? She wished she could go back in time and shake her giddy, hopeful 2 P.M. self sternly by the shoulders: he’s not that great! He talks with his mouth full and slurps. He kind of drones on about a lot of stuff you don’t care about. Also, he has a giant nose hair poking out of his left nostril that keeps distracting you every time you look at his face.
Realizing she’d been staring off at the shop across the street for longer than what could be considered polite, Lara reluctantly jerked her attention back to Alex. Alex Brandywell (though Lara was already referring to him as Alex Bored-To-Death in her head) was a computer engineer (whatever that meant) who enjoyed traveling, the beach, good wine and all those other terrible dating clichés. Presumably he would ramble on about how much he loved puppies before dessert. Mentally, she rapped herself across the knuckles. He was being perfectly pleasant – just not particularly interesting. She needed to strike that perfect combination of being interested without actually being…well, interested. There would be no second date.
She froze as she saw his hand inching towards hers. They had already gone through half a bottle of wine (and it was only the appetizer!); surely didn’t think this date was going well enough to start caressing each other over the dinner rolls?
DEAR GOD NO.
Reflexively, Lara whipped her hand up and scratched an imaginary itch on her neck. Alex looked startled, but drew his hand back to his side of the table. She breathed an inward sigh of relief.
“Allergies,” Lara explained apologetically.
“They’re bad this time of year,” Alex replied.
The conversation ground to a slow and painful halt. Lara sighed and wiggled her toes; she couldn’t wait to be out of these painful sandals and back in her apartment with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and American Idol. Suddenly dying alone with twelve cats didn’t seem like such a depressing prospect.
Perspective 2:
Alex sipped his wine and studied Lara from behind the glass. The date was going better than expected; better than most of his first dates, actually. She leaned forward and kept eye contact and asked relevant questions. She seemed genuinely interested in him!
He set his glass down and scratched the side of his face, then licked his lips. She was staring over his shoulder dreamily. She seemed like a dreamy kind of person. He could see her watching the sunset or doing yoga in the rain. Suddenly, a surge of bravery overcame him (it was probably the wine): he was going to hold her hand!
Slowly, Alex crept his hand out in her direction. He was sweating. He hoped his hand wasn’t too clammy. Suddenly she reached up and scratched violently at her neck. She caught him staring and laughed awkwardly.
“Allergies,” she waved her hand in the air, as if that explained everything.
“They’re bad this time of year,” Alex agreed. He personally suffered a horrible cat allergy and couldn’t be around them any length of time. He let his hands fall limp in his lap. Did he really want to be with a woman who had allergies so badly she was scratching her neck? What if people thought she had fleas or a disease? He took another sip – a gulp, really – of wine and looked away. Lara, too, seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Moments passed, then the waiter arrived with their food. Alex watched as Lara breathed a sigh of relief; she must have been starving. He wound a forkful of pasta from his chicken primavera and lifted it in an informal cheers. She gave a watery smile and nodded back at him. The pasta was too soft, and the sauce was bland. The mushrooms had been reduced to mush, and the chicken dry.
Still, not bad for a first date.
The woman’s perspective.
Arlene sat opposite the man she had devoted herself to. The man she said the words ‘For better or for worst’ , the one who made her heart leap with just the sound of his voice and the touch of his fingers. Now, everything about in relation to this man was dead. No feelings, no desire, no trust. Arlene looked out of the window of the cafe staring at the busy streets and the overly preoccupied busy men, women and teens gossiping. Her mind wasn’t on their movements or the awkward encounter the bus driver had with a beautiful blond, her mind was on her lover, Henry.
She thought of how Henry made her feel alive. The warmth in his voice each and every time he called her to bed.
It never crossed her mind how her husband would feel, cause frankly there wasn’t any thing to feel in the marriage. It was dead. Gone. He was mostly about work and football anyway. When she wanted passion, the kind of passion Henry now gave her, her beloved husband was either sat staring at the television or working late at the office.
‘I wish he was with me instead of him. He always make me feel so much better so much more appreciated. I wish I was his wife,’ she thought.
The man perspective
Why does she always go silent on me? I brought her here to talk so why sit staring elsewhere? James sat opposite his wife. Even though she had been behaving strangely lately he still loved her. Her smell, the way she wore her beautifully blond her and sexy seductive dresses. It was all for him and no one else. But these days her mind seems to be somewhere he can’t seem to reach.
He knew he had been away from her, but it was because of work and she knew that. Didn’t she? It was all that she could live comfortably. Happy and content.
Was she happy with him? Did she change? He wanted to reach out his arm and touch her. He wanted to draw her attention away from what ever it was that was worrying her. Why wouldn’t she tell me? I wonder…… is she pregnant? I wonder if that is what she’s afraid i’d be mad at.
Maybe I should ask? He leaned against his iron chair in the cafe and prepared for the tug and war between his wife and himself.
THE END.
BY Adanna Simon
(Male Perspective)
This meeting went against so many of Alex’s personal rules that he may as well have called himself a hypocrite. Every last golden rule, now rusted self-loathing
He loved his girlfriend. He loved her more than anything in the world. Her beautiful, porcelain face, which gleamed angelically in the sunlight. Her beautiful blue eyes, like warm sapphire oceans. Her petite, slender frame, which made her feel like a fragile, but emotionally fulfilling doll in his arms. And of course, her kind and loving disposition, one so pure it was as if she had been untouched by sin or evil.
But he still couldn’t tear himself away.
He still couldn’t control his feelings.
He still couldn’t control his desire, a wicked flame that surged through his body and soul, burning through all his feelings until only a maddening, hungry passion remained.
Jessica! Jessica! JESSICA!! Why couldn’t he get her out of his head?! Why couldn’t he forget her?!
Was it her eyes? That alluring, smoldering brown gleam that ignited his desire?
Was it her tanned skin? That beautiful, chocolate brown skin that was so sweet and hot under his mouth?
Was it her body? That seductive, buxom frame that pushed, pulsated and rubbed against his bare chest as he held her in a forbidden embrace?
Or was it her lips? Those luscious, rose red lips that filled the air with such sexy sighs and moans?
Alex’s girlfriend nursed the love within his heart, but Jessica ignited the lust within his body and soul. No matter how desperately he wanted to cling to those gentle, innocent sparks of love, they would never win against the raging fires of lust.
You cannot fight fire with sparks…
Has a television show ever inspired me writing? Innumerable times. That’s what fan fiction is for right?