Just like I know Amy will catch herself a boyfriend in the next story, so do I know that Amy's father -- Doctor James Clear of the Jefferson Parish Medical Center -- is going to die.
In real life, my GP doctor for the last 43 years died of a heart attack last week. He was an excellent doctor, and more than considerate: when I was out of work for an extended period he put me on his Unofficial Medical Plan, which meant he filed insurance claims, but did not send me a bill. When I finally was re-employed and making a living again I told him I wanted to pay my way, because I didn't want to abuse his care. Basically he said NO. I didn't get a bill from him over the last seven or eight years.
What does this have to do with Amy's father?
I am having some trouble coping with my doctor's death. Anytime someone important to you dies you're reminded that some day it's YOUR shoulder on which the angel of death will alight. And until I establish a network of physicians, who's going to make sure I don't get sick? Manage presecriptions? Tell me it's just a scratch?
So James Clear is going to be found supine in his office one day. Amy's (and Paul's) reactions will help me deal with my real life doctor's death. Probably Amy's mom, Tracey, will help, too. And Kaylee, Amy's kid sister. And, for that matter, Kaylee's three kids, since children of seven, nine, and eleven years of age will have different ways of coping with their PePaw's death.
To make it less creepy, James' dying will be part of the plot. The bad guys Amy and Paul are after will find James in his office and kill him. Maybe his head nurse, too. It will give Amy even more motivation to catch the bad guys.
I'm no expert, but I think many authors incorporate into their fiction issues that are disturbing them in real life. It's an effort to cope.
Unrelated comment from Ulysses: a batty woman who is looked after by the nuns at a Dublin convent is described by Joyce as "virtuous, but with a bad temperament."
In real life, my GP doctor for the last 43 years died of a heart attack last week. He was an excellent doctor, and more than considerate: when I was out of work for an extended period he put me on his Unofficial Medical Plan, which meant he filed insurance claims, but did not send me a bill. When I finally was re-employed and making a living again I told him I wanted to pay my way, because I didn't want to abuse his care. Basically he said NO. I didn't get a bill from him over the last seven or eight years.
What does this have to do with Amy's father?
I am having some trouble coping with my doctor's death. Anytime someone important to you dies you're reminded that some day it's YOUR shoulder on which the angel of death will alight. And until I establish a network of physicians, who's going to make sure I don't get sick? Manage presecriptions? Tell me it's just a scratch?
So James Clear is going to be found supine in his office one day. Amy's (and Paul's) reactions will help me deal with my real life doctor's death. Probably Amy's mom, Tracey, will help, too. And Kaylee, Amy's kid sister. And, for that matter, Kaylee's three kids, since children of seven, nine, and eleven years of age will have different ways of coping with their PePaw's death.
To make it less creepy, James' dying will be part of the plot. The bad guys Amy and Paul are after will find James in his office and kill him. Maybe his head nurse, too. It will give Amy even more motivation to catch the bad guys.
I'm no expert, but I think many authors incorporate into their fiction issues that are disturbing them in real life. It's an effort to cope.
Unrelated comment from Ulysses: a batty woman who is looked after by the nuns at a Dublin convent is described by Joyce as "virtuous, but with a bad temperament."