My idea is that our narrators would be like a cloud of sorts, floating above our heads and reading our lives like our favorite novel. Everyone would have their own, but when you are in groups, the dominant narrator takes over. Dominance is determined by length of time as a narrator, or the talking cloud’s experience, so to speak.
It could be equally magical and horrifying.
You could have really wonderful moments where you are portrayed as a hero, or times when you can just listen to the beauty of words describing your otherwise mundane life. I mean, you extremely exciting life.
Whatever, let’s be honest. You probably sit behind a desk like me. If you do, you wouldn’t mind a little narrator cloud making you feel like a superstar.
She typed the report with power pouring from her fingertips. Commas, periods, semicolons all bent to her will as she formatted the Word document into a PDF.
That would make me feel pretty fantastic if I’m being honest.
But if your narrator cloud didn’t like you, it might sound something more like:
Again, she sat there. The words were beaten out of her by the ancient PC keyboard. Why her boss wouldn’t make the switch to Macs, she’d never know.
Either way, it would be entertaining. And for someone who likes to both write and read books, the idea of living one makes me rather giddy.
But then there could be really awkward moments in groups. It wouldn’t be possible to keep secrets or stretch the truth.
Boss: “Do you have that report done?”
Employee: “Of course.” She lied.
Straightforward. She lied. No getting around that one. A blessing and a curse. Magical and horrifying.
Would the narrator be quiet or would it be mega-phoned? You’re at a party, let’s make it a wedding. The bride and groom share their first dance.
-Good Lord that dress is hideous. She’ll never look like that at her wedding, the maid of honor swore.
-I wish I had a girlfriend, he thought wistfully. A plan began to formulate of how he could dispose of the groom and make the bride his.
-The bride felt eyes burning into her back. She looked about and didn’t recognize anyone. Why did she allow so many plus ones?
-When do we get cake? Wondered the groom, whose stomach just rumbled over the pathetically sappy love song that he was being forced to dance to.
Awkward. Just plain awkward.
Really the only positives of these narrators would be if you could turn them on and off. Pick and choose when you want to feel like Harry Potter. Skip to the good parts of your story and ignore all the He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named almost kills you parts. So let’s do books 1-4 and skip to the epilogue of 7.
I guess there was a reason why we were created to keep our minds to ourselves.