Today's instructions were to write a story with a MacGuffin trap. This was difficult, because I haven't read many plot-driven stories. Most of what I'm interested in, even in movies and TV shows, is the personal snippets, not the boring plot stuff. Like in NCIS, I love at the beginning, where they're catching up with each other's weekend, and joking around, and also at the end, where we get a glimpse into their personal lives. Some of the plots are difficult to follow, but I don't really care because, well, I don't care about the plot!
So here's a story where the goal could be anything, and it wouldn't really change the story much. If you go to the website, and read the story right above mine (mine's the last one at the very bottom, and then read the one by KellyDaniel), I think she hit the MacGuffin nail on the head. My husband would disagree, but he's biased. :-)
This is written in the comments section of "How to Avoid the MacGuffin Trap and Create a Unique Plot."
written on Feb. 26, 2013
The proclamation rang out as June busted in the bedroom door. May was sitting on her bed, and when June came in, she jumped up, startled.
“June,” May nervously twittered, “What has you all bound up in pieces today?” She was afraid of the answer, not because she was afraid of her sister, but because every day it was something dramatic and time-consuming and it was starting to get on her nerves.
June flung herself onto the window seat and peered down at the barren yard. “You know May, it’s not like I want to get involved with these things. Adventure just seeks me out. Today I got a letter in the mail from a man in West Virginia who found an old trunk in his barn. I have to go investigate.”
May rolled her eyes. “You and every other land pirate in America. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
June moved to her own bed. “Well, when I’m forty and on a beach somewhere soaking in the rays, and you’re sixty-five still filing paperwork at the office, you’ll see what a big deal it all was.” She grabbed her travel bag off the floor and gathered up the clothes that were strewn all over her side of the room. “These are mostly clean, right?”
May watched the transformation as June haphazardly packed. It seemed like the room went from pig sty to tornado path in five minutes flat. May stood up and tip-toed over the haphazard mess to June. She wrapped her arms around her big sister and squeezed.
“June, I don’t understand why you are so interested in random people’s dirty old trunks, but if you feel like your life isn’t complete until you’ve collected trunks from all fifty states, well, I’ll be here at home supporting you.” May sat back down on her bed. “Just be careful and if someone else shows up wanting the trunk and they have a gun, just let them have it. Random stuff isn’t worth getting dead over.”
June gave May a patronizing smile. “Of course, dear. I’m always careful.” And with that, June zipped her bag shut and ran out the door, once again chasing after the elusive Trunk of North America, knowing no one understood, realizing she would probably never find it, but determined to either find it or die trying.