That Novel I Will Never Write - Part 1

Rules:

Protagonist needs a wound. Ideally more than a lost love. Death in his past? Perhaps a death for which he feels responsible?

Ideally the wound has a phsyical corollary. I would say a scar, but Harry Potter has made that outré. Not like a missing limb or anything grotesque - it should be something that only Protagonist knows about, that is probably never to be manifested. Like, he can't pole vault higher than 7 feet because his rotator cuff will never be the same. Or he will never be able to hold his breath for more than 70 seconds in a swimming pool because his brain's density has been irrevocably changed by diving below 30,000 feet to save the life of the person whose death for which he feels responsible. Something along those lines.

Protagonist's decency - his fundamental humanness - is established when he does something kind when no one is looking, for which he expects no reward. This is how we know he is a Good Guy. For example, we see that he is very careful about making sure that the people in front of him in line at the grocery store have right of first refusal when a new register is opened.

There is something Protagonist always does, or something he never does. Like, he never takes cream with his coffee because he thinks he only deserves bitter coffee. He doesn't say so, exactly, but this is reinforced later on when he consistently declines to order dessert. [Are we in a city, where Protagonist routinely eats out and orders coffee? Or are we on rural terrain, where Protagonist declining sugar means simply that when a guest is present, he cannot produce sugar for the guest's coffee? Because he is a rustic type, right? Ugh. This is terrible.]

Or, he always wears a hat when he is outside. Or, he always whistles popular tunes but with a dirge-like, funereal tempo. Ideally, whatever he always does or doesn't do is tied to his wound. Like, he threw away the research that would lead to a cure for diabetes, so he feels he cannot eat sugar. Or he always wears a hat because he accidentally killed someone by dropping something on their head.

It is critical that Protagonist not be too erudite or too intellectual. His understanding of abstract concepts is derived from very concrete, simple tasks. He is a smart guy and all, but he's not a guy who ever says, "Oh, that reminds me of a New Yorker article I just read." You know, the kind of stuff I would say. Ideally, he says, "Well, you can't figure this problem out any more than you can figure out how to lay down new tile without a wet-saw." Remember to google "wet-saw" before he says something like that though.

Protagonist has one of the following, in whom he confides: a pet; a dumber friend who thinks he (the friend) is actually a smarter friend; a friend who actually is smarter; a zany relative; a group of peers, who are more or less interchangeable; or a random child, who occasionally says unexpectedly clever things. (Note: don't make it a kid. Kid-actors who play roles that involve saying prescient things usually make people like me want to strangle them.)

Protagonist is repeatedly propositioned by some superficially attractive member of the opposite sex. Either Protagonist is blind to the propositions, or Protagonist is dimly aware but knows that something very rare and precious would be lost in this transaction if it were ever to occur. (Note: The transacation can occur, but the context will be very important.)

When we come to the end and Protagonist has found whatever it was that was missing, Protagonist will no longer do whatever it was that he always did; or he will do whatever it was that he never did. Or he will do the same thing he has always done, except he will do it consciously and deliberately as opposed to distractedly, which is how he would have done it in the past.

[Note to self: This is terrible. Needs to be started over and made less "As Good As It Gets"-y.]