The Art of Asking Questions

In writing fiction, one has a tremendous opportunity to address the deep questions that we have – questions about life, about death, about love and about who we are at the deepest levels, when everything else is stripped away. Is man basically good? Or is he basically evil? Is there, perhaps, the potential for both within us? What does it take to push a man over the edge? And how does a ‘good’ person come to a place where he unravels? How does another man hold the line against all odds and still remain standing when the world around him crumbles? What makes a hero?

The good authors that I have read have presented engaging stories, with real and memorable characters who must deal with circumstances that come at them in their daily lives, and evaluate their own response to those circumstances. Who are they, really? And what does their response show about what they truly believe? When push comes to shove, what are they made of? What are WE made of? What would WE do, if in their shoes?

The art of asking questions through the observation of another’s life is very much like brush strokes on canvass. Line upon line, stroke upon stroke of the artist’s brush, the author leads us down hallways and around corners until the moment of truth is suddenly before us and we gape at the character in dismay or we applaud and whistle in approval. We experience these moments. We take away with us the memory of what they told us about ourselves. And this, I find, takes place, even if we disagree with the author.

Fiction is an entertainment medium. But the deeper purpose is seen in the art of asking questions.