Tag: characters

  • Characters Grow in Fertile Soil

    Stories are built, but characters are grown. That’s the best way I can explain it. A story, to me, is a series of events which can be shuffled around to achieve the greatest impact and the most effective rise and fall of tension.

    Characters, especially the main characters, must be nurtured and coaxed into revealing themselves a little at a time. If you met someone at a party, and the first thing they did was tell you their entire life story, their likes and dislikes, and their motivation for being at the party, you’d make a beeline for the exit. Thanks for the martini and the canapés, love what you’ve done with the place, see you at work on Monday.

    Main characters start as a picture in my head, a piece of dialogue, or part of a scene already in progress. From there, I start asking questions. Who is this person stripping naked in a bar and hurling her clothes at a round little man in glasses? Why are there flames in her eyes, and why was she dressed like a pirate before she threw her eye patch at him?

    I’m not much for filling out character sheets. Yes, I have an obsession for writing out scenes and events on note cards. Yes, I outline before I start writing. But characters have to grow organically.

    Sometimes I know far more about my characters than I will ever have the need to share. Other times, I’m flying by the seat of my pants and don’t realize until many chapters later that I have an entire cast of unrelated, hostile characters who are extremely short in stature.

    Every last one of them.

    But physical characteristics are easy. They’re scene dressing. If they don’t work, I can change them out. Short and fat becomes tall and lean with a few keystrokes. But the hostility of the character, that’s a permanent fixture. The why of the hostility, however, is what may stop me in my tracks to go for a long drive. I will mutter and wave my arms behind the wheel, questioning the motives and back story, until wham. Oh my God. That’s what happened? No wonder he’s so pissed off at her.

    In the end, the reader only needs to know what’s important. And most of that should come from observing how the character acts, speaks, and interacts with other characters.

    Build the scene with a box of Lego. Grow a character like a hothouse orchid. Nobody wants a description of the flower or how the orchid was grown. People want to hold it in their hands. Smell it.

    They want to see it for themselves and form their own opinions.

  • Lying on the couch: A conversation with myself

    Character interviewBefore I begin to set pen to paper (metaphorically) on my stories, I like to have several conversations with my main character.

    As with any job interview, questions help me consider whether or not he/she can get the job done. But in truth, these conversations sound more like a prolonged therapy session with a psychiatrist.

    Me: So, tell me a little about yourself.

    Main Character: Well, I have this weird problem with perception. I can’t read words as they appear. I see words, and I can read them, but they make no sense. The sign at McDonald’s may say “Over one billion served” but I see the words “Dolphin spatula green sycamore.”

    Me: I see. So, how long has this problem been going on?

    MC: Since my accident, I think. I don’t remember anything about my life before that. My doctor says I must have learned to read at some point, because I can associate words and pictures in my head. I just can’t read them correctly.

    Me: And how is this going to make for an interesting story?

    MC: Well, lately I’ve been able to read a sign on the side of the road. It seems to be directed at me. It says, “Turn here, Martin.”

    Me: That’s rather specific.

    MC: Yeah. My doctor thinks it’s a good sign, that my brain is trying to repair itself.

    Me: What do you think?

    MC: I think it’s kinda creepy. My wife thinks I should ignore it. But I feel like someone’s calling to me. I want to follow the sign.

    Once I have a good understanding of what makes my main character unique, I can begin to build a story around him. I need to know some things, but not everything about him before I start. For instance, how did he meet his wife? What kind of life did he have before the accident? Answers to these questions may (or may not) come out in the story. There will be time for additional discovery later.

    Depending on the story, I may want to have a similar conversation with my Main Adversary. The MA can be as important as the hero in a story. Think of Lex Luthor in Superman, or Darth Vader in The Empire Strikes Back. Good villains are a counterpoint to heroes. And they have their own reasons, their own motivations, for doing what other people consider “evil.” The trick to writing a villain is to make him/her believable. If they can justify what they’re doing in terms that seem realistic, you probably have someone worth writing about.

    Secondary characters don’t need this kind of detail before I begin writing. Often, I will have characters with descriptions like “love interest,” “best friend,” or “receptionist.” They can be fleshed out later, but sometimes not until the second or third draft.

    The key is to listen: to my characters, myself, and — probably — to a good shrink to sort out all the voices in my head.

  • Character Development (Week of 20 February 2012)

    Characters walk in and out of the cafe all the time. Some are interesting, some merely background players in a larger story, but all of them get some time on the stage here. Guitar-slingers, demon hunters, chrononauts and closet monsters alike mingle with main characters running gauntlets that real people would quail at. The Confabulators paint every character in our stories with the same care but to varying degrees of completion.

    Some of us need to know more about some characters and some a little less. This week we’re going to share our process of learning about people we create out of thin air and then do horrible things to. Bear with us if it seems as though we’re enjoying our godlike powers of creation. It’s one of the things that makes us what we are: storytellers. Come on in, rub elbows with our characters. The coffee is hot and your table is right here. Maybe you’ll recognize yourself in something we write.