Rasslin with style

No blogs for a long time, as I have been under water trying to fight my way to the surface of a story driven by plot and in search of an interesting character or two. Plots are easier than characters, and sometimes the work suffers from it. But I've been struggling with the notion that character-driven stories are inherently better than plot driven ones. Well-read friends tell me so, and perhaps they are right. I suppose we do remember interesting characters long after the details of the plot fade. Who was that guy talking about Gatsby anyway? But is there a time when what happened really is the point? Regardless of who it happened to? Or does the why give fiction life? The facts of telling versus the truth of revelation of motive. Personally, sometimes I just like the action. Is it shallow to crave the satisfaction I feel when the girl gets the guy, or if the husband figures out its not his baby, or if Aunt Lulu wakes up after the knock on the head from crazy cousin Goober. Sometimes that's enough for me. Is there a time when the paper-thin, cut-out character is the best way to keep the distractions of the character's angst out of the way of the plot? Is there a place for plot-driven stories in a world of literary force? I don't know, honestly. And I suppose it will not be my choice to decide. Of course, if the occasional salty character wanders into the headlights of my oncoming story I suppose it's just as much fun to knock him to the roadside and rush him to the hospital for a near-death rescue as to run down the stranger and leave him for dead.