Freezing to death is probably not something on anyone’s mind this sweltering July day in New York. However, I was thinking about it because recently I went to an exhibit on polar exploration at the American Museum of Natural History.

You may be familiar with the story of Roald Amundsen and Robert Falcon Scott. Amundsen was a Norwegian explorer so determined to conquer the South Pole that, growing up, he slept with his windows open to train his body to deal with the cold. Scott was both less prepared and more desperate, (an enticing combination from a novelist’s point of view). They both set out for the South Pole in 1910. Amundsen got there first. Scott, battered by bad luck, poor preparation and bad weather, died soon after reaching the Pole.

Endurance, sacrifice, luck, talent, preparedness are all issues we talk about in the novel writing class that I teach. (Not to belabor a point, but aren’t all writers explorers and aren’t some of us doomed?) More importantly though, I’m transfixed by the image of Scott in his final days. There he was, truly in the middle of nowhere, freezing, surrounded by people who were dying, and what did he do? He wrote. One of the things I believe, and probably say a lot, is that characters have to struggle because only then do we know who they truly are. That’s why although I respect Amundsen, and would prefer to be on his team, my heart always goes to Scott. Yes, it was all his own fault, but he handled it with grace.

Anyway, as I nestle into my sweltering box of an office, with my two trusty sled dogs by my side, I imagine myself somewhere colder and more dramatic. How about you? Who are your heroes?

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