I, Spear-Carrier

Today I’ve invited a guest-blogger to my site. He’s a spear-carrier and his name is…um…

spear carrierThat’s the thing, Mr. Poseidon’s Scribe, I don’t even have a name. My author didn’t give me one. I appreciate you giving me a chance to have my say at your website, but most authors aren’t that nice to us spear-carriers.

I suppose I should back up a bit and explain what a spear-carrier is. We’re the minor characters in stories, the ones who remain mostly in the background. We sometimes get to say a few lines, but never as much as the protagonist, sidekick, or antagonist.

The first spear-carriers really carried spears. Back in the days of Ancient Greek drama, they stood near entrances or with backs against the wall while the main characters had all the fun. Boring! These days, we’re the ‘other ones’ at the party, or walking along the street, or shopping in the store.

Oh, authors always say they need us, and that we’re important, but then they treat us like crap. We rarely get names, usually don’t merit more than a word or two of description, and get no chance at character development. For example, I have no personality at all. None!

Life for us is generally boring, though we do get to react, on occasion, to something said or done by a main character. Whoopee!

Giving us the boring roles, not letting us speak much, treating us like furniture—all of that is bad enough. But there’s something worse.

When a protagonist, sidekick, or antagonist dies, it’s a big deal, with a lot of weeping and wailing. But authors bump us spear-carriers off without a second thought. In fact, the major characters never pause to morn our deaths for very long. Often we’re made to die just to show how mean the bad guy is. How sick is that?

Yeah, I know. Authors (sadists one and all) also treat main characters badly. The protagonist, in particular, has to go through a number of tests and trials as she deals with the story’s central conflict. She endures a lot, for sure, but I’d still trade places any day.

The protagonist gets a name and a personality, and generally comes out okay in the end after having learned something. Even when a protagonist dies, it’s a death with meaning and honor.

When it comes to trading places, the one I’d really like to swap with is the author. I have no desire to be an author, but I have an absolute, passionate craving to see how one of those arrogant writers likes being a spear-carrier. Even for just an hour. Oh, yeah.

Let the author fade into the background for a while and see how he likes it. Okay, Mr. Poseidon’s Scribe, let’s try it with you.

Uh, me?

Yeah. Just stand there. Like that, only with no motion at all.

Like this?

No talking. Did I tell you to talk? No looks of surprise either; stop that. Keep your face expressionless. No, even more blank than that. And hand gestures like that are totally unacceptable.

All right. Now that you’re standing without any motion or facial expression, completely unsuspecting, it’s time to demonstrate just how evil the villain in this story really is. No, Mr. Poseidon’s Scribe, you’re supposed to just stand there—

That’s enough for now. I’d like to thank the spear-carrier for guest-blogging today. I think we’ve learned quite a lot about the lives and secret yearnings of these characters. As an author, I need my spear-carriers. They’re important to my stories. But let’s face it, I can’t give every minor character a name, a personality, a whole lot of dialogue; my stories would go on forever. And if a spear-carrier has to be sacrificed for the betterment of my story, well, that’s the way it has to be for—

Poseidon’s Scribe