Every good story has a drama queen or in some cases a drama king. And we generally know how to write up drama queen characteristics, yes, it’s stereotyping but then is that always a bad thing?
Recently, I ran across a writing exercise that challenged you to define a drama queen without using words or phrases like she threw things, she cursed, she yelled, etc. The exercise was eye opening in many ways. Obviously it was hard to find different ways to create a drama queen character without the usual accompanying descriptions.
After reading several such entries, I came to the conclusion I may be a closet drama queen. And that was NOT a happy moment for me. I live in a family of drama queens/kings and always prided (a word that should always send up a red flag) myself on not being a drama queen. However, in redefining such a person/character, I discovered to my dismay (amid much squirming) that I am a drama queen, just not the loud, object throwing kind. Here is what was my final entry:
Her lips tightened. She spun on her heels, leaving the room and the tension that danced around her. Fleeing the hostile atmosphere filled her with a sense of superiority. She had maintained her cool. No one could ever accuse her of throwing things, cursing like a sailor or behaving in a socially unacceptable way. Oh no, not her. She had learned to control her feelings.
Deliberately using a quiet focused voice, she called the dogs to her. They burst out the side door and raced to the field beyond, she followed more slowly, thinking on the argument she had just witnessed, priding herself on not being a part of it.
A single thought struck her speechless. Had she not indeed reacted to anger with anger; had she not sweep from the room, leaving the situation unresolved; had she not made it clear how she felt; had she not thought only of her discomfort and judged harshly those who reacted more physically; had she not contributed to the overall environment with disgust and distaste.
Was she not in fact a closet drama queen? Was it true that what we hate in others we hate in ourselves? Her tears flowed, her head bowed, her spirit squirmed with the plain truth. Why had she not seen it before? Wasn’t the core problem with drama queens of either gender that it was all about them? And hadn’t she just confirmed by her attitude that it too was all about her? She was not a peacemaker. She was adding to the hostility in her own quiet focused way.
She squared her shoulders, the squirming died away. It was time to admit her drama queen tendencies and learn to combat hostility with love, the kind of love that flooded her heart when she thought of her Savior. She could do this. She would do this.