One Moment in Time Makes the Difference

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HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: You know how I got the idea for my first novel? By chance. You know how I met my husband? By total chance. How I got my first reporting job? By chance. All of those, long stories for another day.  Each time, I made a decision that I didn’t realize was a decision. Let alone a life-changing one.

The wonderfully talented Jim Jackson has been thinking about this---for his characters, but also for his own life. Why do we decide what we decide? And do we understand the…

Consequences

          by  James M. Jackson

Not every decision I have made has been a good one.

Every decision I make has consequences. They may be large or small. I may not even be aware of what they are, but they are there.

In real life, consequences don’t necessarily relate well to our expectations of what should happen given our actions. That’s why we say life isn’t fair. Sometimes, it seems that pure chance makes a huge difference, and yet if we look carefully we might see our own hand’s presence.

UU Fellowship, Hunterdon Co, NJ

When I moved to Cincinnati from New Jersey in June 1993, I shopped for a Unitarian Universalist church. This was before Facebook and Google, so my New Jersey minister provided me a list of the four congregations with addresses and ministers’ names. My two objectives were for a congregation that could help ground me in my new location, and I wanted to sing in the choir, something I hadn’t done since college.

The geographically closest to where I lived was First Church. They had a 10:30 service, and being a morning person, I prefer early services, allowing me more of the rest of the day to do whatever else I want. That first Sunday I got turned around driving the confusing Cincinnati streets (no GPS back then) and arrived late for the 10:30 service. I recalled that another UU church was close by and drove to St. John’s in time for their 11:00 service.

My taste for church architecture runs traditional, which St. John’s is not. And while the service was fine, I still wanted to visit the other churches. My second try for First Church was late that summer. Having gotten lost once, I left with a large cushion and arrived early.

 I entered through the door nearest the parking lot and wasn’t sure how to get to the sanctuary. I wandered around the church. Several people saw me, but everyone appeared busy and disinterested in me. I felt uncomfortable and remembered St. John’s was not far away and had the later service. I drove to St. John’s, was met by a greeter, filled out a name tag. I discovered as I read through the order of service that the congregation was dedicating the new hymnals. The service was a congregational sing led by the choir.

St. John's UU Church

Some of the hymns were familiar and I’m a decent sight reader, and I had a great time singing the bass part. Before I could work my way out of the sanctuary, the choir director caught up to me and said a little bird told her I sang bass. Choir rehearsals were Thursday 7-9, and she’d love it if I could come.

A series of seemingly small decisions led me to what became my Cincinnati church home where I met a foxy alto; we’ve been together for twenty-three years and counting. 

My decisions arriving at that place weren’t all good—I should have overcome my shyness and just asked one of the ladies how to get to First Church’s sanctuary—but they did fit with my character and so are understandable.

When we (or our fictional characters) take actions or make decisions against their better judgement, we begin to experience cognitive dissonance. On the way from First Church to St. John’s, I was kicking myself about how lame it was that I couldn’t just ask one of the ladies how to get to the sanctuary. I’ll never know what I missed at First Church. I’ve since met several of their congregants and enjoyed their company.

I’m a pantser and with my novels, I usually find out what issue I’m writing about only after I complete the first draft. 

Turns out that in Empty Promises I was exploring how Seamus McCree, my series protagonist, would react to a series of actions he takes that increasingly conflict with his core values. Like most of us, he self-justifies his decisions, but as they accumulate, they begin to wear him down. Empty Promises is a deeper and darker novel than the others in the series and that carries risks for me.

Some Seamus McCree fans may be upset that he stumbles and for a time loses his moral compass. Those who prefer story resolutions where all the bad guys receive their just desserts will find justice does not always prevail. It is, however, the story I wanted to write—no, that I had to write. I have faith that most readers are bored with do-gooders who can do no wrong and sociopaths who have no conscience. Even with page-turners like Empty Promises, they want to delve deeper into the human condition, provided it has a satisfying conclusion—even if it’s not exactly the one they would have preferred.

How about you, Reds and their fans: have I gone off the deep end, or are you willing to come along for the ride?

HANK: Well, that's a tantalizing question! Jim will be stopping by today to respond to your comments. He’s also giving away a copy of Empty Promises. Just comment to enter!  (And a foxy alto--that's so great! Love to you both.) So Reds and Readers--did you have a big life-changing moment you never could have predicted?

In Empty Promises Seamus McCree’s first solo bodyguard assignment goes from bad to worse. His client disappears. His granddog finds a buried human bone. Police find a fresh human body.

Seamus risks his own safety and freedom to turn amateur sleuth in hopes he can solve the crimes, fulfill his promise of protection, and win back the love of his life. Wit and grit are on his side, but the clock is ticking . . . and the hit man is on his way.

James M. Jackson authors the Seamus McCree novels featuring the financial crimes consultant, his family, and friends. The series has been well received by crime fiction readers who like their books darker than cozies and lighter than noir. Jim splits his time between the deep woods of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and the open spaces of Georgia’s Lowcountry. He is the past president of the 700+ member Guppy Chapter of Sisters in Crime. Here's information about Jim and his books!