Those of you who know me or who have read my stories know I’m not a tragedy sort of gal. I like redemption stories, characters who grow, and endings that are upbeat. Maybe not so far as “everyone lived happily ever after,” but positive, with a promise of continued growth and good things in the future style endings are definitely my thing. I mean, really, real life is rough. I don’t enjoy my fiction feeling more like the evening news than an escape from  it all.

I know real life does not guarantee those things, though. But I like to hope they are possible. Sadly, possible does not mean promised, and sometimes that reality just comes crashing down.

Relationships, as we all know, can be rough. And families doubly so. Maybe triply so.

Knowing I’m going to make a mistake one side or another, my preferred mistake is to err on the side of mercy. To be tolerant and patient, and assume the best. Not always the smartest choice, I am well aware. But knowing I’m going to make a mistake one way or another this is the one I’m trying to embrace.

Make no mistake, I get burned by it regularly. Last Man Standing seems to be the invisible motto on my ‘T’ shirt. That or Last one off the Titanic. That’s another contender. I hope for far too long, explain away too much, do too many things.

But sometimes, despite all hope otherwise, people show their true colors and there’s nothing left to be done but to be done.

This weekend, I had a rare ah-ah moment. Bu not the one I’d hoped for.

If I were putting this weekend’s plot twist in a story, I’d flag it  in my notes as a midpoint transition. What does that mean?

In this case, it was the moment the main character loses her blinders and sees mercy and tolerance only extending one way in a particular relationship. A realization that the moment she ceases to do the other character’s bidding, she is cast out without so much as a ‘don’t let the door hit you on the way out.’ No past efforts matter, she is not worth the care and consideration given a stray dog that pees on the floor. A bit melodramatic? No, not really.

If the story ended there, it would be exactly the sort I don’t want to write. Too much like a tragedy for my tastes.

Happily, though, despite the character’s feelings about this midpoint transition, it doesn’t end there. Our main character realizes she’s a part of a character team, a classic five-man band sort of trope, who pulls the main character back to her feet and points her in the direction of the next plot point. Even better, two more ‘team’ characters appear out of the plot to help the MC continue her story.

In real life, as in writing, I’ve got to say I don’t love that sort of gut wrenching, angst-ridden plot twist. Those not-warm-and-fuzzy feels aren’t my jam. But if everything were smooth sailing, where would the plot be? Where would the character growth be? So, I guess an angsty plot point has to happen at some point, right?

The thing I really do like though, is watching the team come together through it all, stronger, better and more ready for the next plot point. That might just be worth all the gut twisting and soul wrenching.

But for the next little bit, I’ll be huddling with my other MC’s and regrouping to the next plot point. But the team is strong, and before long we’ll be back marching down the yellow brick road, or off to Mordor, or maybe where no man has gone before, or maybe somewhere entirely new.

Have youexperienced any real-life plot twists lately? Tell me in the comments.