Last week, I had a conversation with Amanda in which I proudly declared that I had successfully cut many of the unnecessary sugary treats out of my diet. I’m not on a weight loss diet, but I am quite health conscious and I struggle with the havoc that a sweet tooth plays in the efforts to live a health-conscious lifestyle. I don’t know anybody who loves cake donuts more than I do.
However, after eliminating the excess sugar from what I have been eating (no, I’m not trying to live a sugar-free life and no, I don’t use artificial sweeteners – don’t get me started on that), I have been discovering that I have a lot more control over my hunger levels and I find that I don’t crave sweets nearly as much as I once did. In fact, other than wanting a little yogurt cup after dinner, I don’t crave sweets at all anymore.
On the evening of that conversation, as I was taking ingredients out of the cupboard to make dinner, I discovered a mix for a spice cake that was riding the line of its expiration date. Since I loathe wasting food, I had a mixing bowl out on the counter and was cracking two eggs into the cake mix before I could realize that what I was effectively doing was whipping up a cake of lies. I was doing exactly the opposite of what I’d just finished telling Amanda!
The universe clearly knew what I was up to, because it decided to punish me for my dishonesty. Since it was a very small spice cake of lies (it fit into the loaf pan for my toaster oven), I decided to be environmentally friendly (and to keep my electricity bill down) and I baked my cake of lies in the toaster oven, instead of the full-sized oven. Like most lies, this cake grew and grew and grew, until it touched the top heating elements. This caused copious amounts of black smoke to billow out of the small appliance as I threw open the windows to stop the smoke detectors from going off.
Still determined not to waste food (clearly, I have a problem), I popped the cake out of its pan and set it on a plate, finishing the cooking in the microwave (after having sliced the blackened layer off the top). A quick nuking is, apparently, all it takes to finish the baking of a cake of lies. How was it? Honestly? It was the best spice cake I’ve ever made. I don’t know if it was the fire, the microwaves, or the lies, but it was the perfect texture and flavour. Once the clouds of black smoke were out of my home, I could tell that the cake smelled great, too.
What lesson did I learn from this adventure? It wasn’t that I shouldn’t be ridiculous about trying to save food. It wasn’t that I should remember that cakes rise a lot in the oven. It wasn’t even that I shouldn’t tell friends that I’m off baked sugar treats when I have cake mix in the cupboard.
The lesson I took from it was that people will do things that seem to be quite out of character and bizarre, provided they have the right motivation. Without knowing that I was trying not to waste food, it would have looked like I’d completely lost my mind (it may still seem that way to you, though not to the same degree as it would if I didn’t have the justification behind my behaviours).
This has given me some important perspective when it comes to judging the actions of my characters. I’m always afraid that they will do things that are “out of character” and that I won’t notice because I’m so used to the story I’ve written. However, even real people do things that are out of character. A character isn’t something that is set in stone. Circumstances can easily change the way we react. Also, fictional characters, like real people, can’t always have days in which we’re at our very best. Sometimes, we find ourselves nuking a burnt cake of lies.