I love to read, and have read many, many books. I have a certain weakness though- I always fall for secondary characters. My absolute favorite is never the hero, but someone on the sideline, who never gets the attention deserved-that's not the problem though. Nor is it that about half the time that character has a touch of evil (I like to call it misunderstanding) in them. A dark streak, or something a little more. Not always, but sometimes.
No, the struggle is much more real.
The author always kills them.
There may be thirty characters in a book, but the one I choose to love-be it one everyone else loves or hates-ALWAYS DIES. I am not exaggerating either. Frankenstein, The Hunger Games, Angels in America, Vampire Diaries (yes, I was obsessed for a while, I am not proud), The Uglies series, Harry Potter, Midnighters....I could go on but honestly it's too painful to keep reliving, and with the amount I read the list would take forever.
Look, I know loss is real and people deal with it all the time, and so authors often kill the sympathetic character to fuel a readers feelings-guilty as charged. But, the issue is that it really doesn't matter if the villain is my favorite or the best friend or the love interest. I could fall for a character who is by all rights a disgusting human being and thoroughly despised by every other reader out there. They will still die. Now, I am not unreasonable. Logic tells me there is no way this is intentional. Obviously, the authors have no clue who I am, I mean, I am just one of their insignificant readers among many, and it's not like they have conventions to predict my favorite characters and what new brutal and unexpected way they can slaughter them. I am not that conceited. It would explain a lot though.
The sad part of all of this is that I expect it now. Once I reach the point in a story where I really fall for a character, there's this moment of resignation where I almost feel I have to apologize to them for dooming them. I realize I have an emotional attachment, and then I think, "crap, they're dead." I guess it's my fault, really. If I just fell for the actual protagonist, I'd be safe, at least most of the time. But it'd still be nice if they got to live every once in a while.
As a writer and hopeful author myself, I seriously hope to never put someone through this. Unless it's someone whose never suffered it, then they can get ready to cry. If I ever kill the favorite character of someone who always loses their favorite, I want them to email me so I can issue a formal apology-just to them, after all, if a character dies I want people to be sad-because it is seriously a hopeless feeling. I know to most people who stuck through to read this whole rant, I seem way to attached to people who don't exist, but I can't help it. I am a very empathetic person and when an author has good character development, I start to care about them like they're real. I don't think I am alone in this, or even in crying over the loss of a fictional character. After all, enough people out there seek to remedy it that it must be real to more people than me. Yes, I am talking about those people who go online and write their own alternate endings to solve the deep sorrows thrust upon them by cruel authors in an attempt to fall asleep at night without reliving their loss.
Here's the truth of it all. Whether I created the character or someone else did, I just love people who don't exist. Maybe it's easier. It's easier to think its funny when they are mean, because they are not being mean to real people. It's easier to profess love to someone who isn't going to reject you. It's far easier to grow attached when you know that the person will never willingly leave you, not as a conscience choice. Reality is that, while I get long with nearly all people, I struggle to get close to them. So, when I can lay in bed at night worrying about how my favorite character is getting along with another character, as opposed to what I may or may not have done wrong with a real person, I will take that chance. I will again and again allow myself to become painfully, unbearably attached to people who do not exist, even if I know I am going to lose them before "The End" and that the lead character is going to find happily ever after without them.