Dig Deeper for Your Characters

By Karen Albright Lin

We hear it all the time: create characters that are sympathetic, at least interesting. But how exactly do we do that? Consider these ideas for going beyond that simple formula.

Avoid subtlety. Many of us feel more comfortable when we dodge conflict and high risk behavior. We often don’t want to stand out, especially if it involves ruining our reputations. We want life to be easy. But instead of attempting to make a character’s choices safe and believable, make them bigger than life. Just as readers crave living vicariously in worlds in which they can’t live, readers want to take a 300-page journey with people who will do things they would never do. Shoot for cataclysmic decisions, external or internal. It may feel uncomfortable to put your characters through what would be horrifying to you. It may feel too big, but write it big with the knowledge that you can always trim it back. And take Donald Maass’s advice: make your character do what he would never do.

Go beyond the basic history we learn through sprinkled-in backstory. Create “headlines” for your characters, even your secondary characters. Think of a “headline” as a personal theme. Examples might be: Ann reacts to situations the way Jesus would. Paul was raised with, and acts out of, guilt. What unique experiences have they had that few others have had? These will often inform their thoughts and actions.
Consider his moral code. Is he sober, trustworthy, impulsive, principled? What are her dreams and ambitions? Is she like the character, Juno, who wants to find a good family for her out-of-wedlock baby? Even if those goals don’t play out in your plot line, readers will sense them. What’s her inner life like? Her self-talk, her fantasies? How does she express herself?

Even your hero has a shadow side. What are his demons and difficulties? Where is he powerful? Is it his sexual prowess? His alpha nature? Are these his real strengths or his feigned strengths? Is there a cultural component? I’ve modeled characters after my husband and his family members, all very superstitious because the Chinese have accumulated countless magical beliefs over the course of 5,000 years. Consider writing a meaning web. How do their beliefs and opinions, politics and religion meld or conflict? How do their careers guide or inhibit, enhance or burden their lives?

A great trick that can enrich a personality theme is to give the hero at least a smidgen of the worst trait you find in the antagonist. That way it’s like he’s battling himself. That gives you one more potential inner conflict and possible arc.

Will your protagonist meet his goal? He doesn’t have to. He can instead learn that it shouldn’t have been his goal. In When Harry Met Sally, Harry’s original goal was to prove women and men couldn’t be just friends. She believed they could. By the end of the movie, Harry and Sally have worked through numerous conflicts over attempts to be friends and come together as lovers.

Use plot tricks to enlighten us about your protagonist and antagonist. These will lead to arcs. Try creating a conflicted character or situation and work backwards. Change points of view at key moments. Consider sprinkling humor throughout a serious book and somber moments in humorous novels. Whatever traits you’ve given your characters, use them to guide their actions and be sure there is payoff.

Have big surprises, plot twists and reversals come from the actions of the hero, not by accident. In the course of the book, reveal something about the human condition; give readers the opportunity to laugh, cry, worry, feel uplifted, or inspired to be someone better.

Understand what is exceptional about your protagonist, antagonist, even your secondary characters. Readers forgive plot difficulties, but if they aren’t interested in your characters they’ll put the book down. You want them to stay up all night reading and then immediately buy your next one. Fascinating and nuanced characters will do that.

About the Writer:  Karen is an editor, ghostwriter, pitch coach, speaker and award-winning author of novels, cookbooks, and screenplays. She’s written over a dozen solo and collaborative scripts (with Janet Fogg, Christian Lyons and director Erich Toll); each has garnered international, national and regional recognition: Moondance Film Festival, BlueCat, All She Wrote, Lighthouse Writers, Boulder Asian Film Festival, SouthWest Writers Contest, and PPW Contest. Find out more at www.karenalbrightlin.com.

Do What You've Got to Do

By Mandy Brown Houk

…until you can’t…

I’m learning, slowly, that I should stop telling people I’ve “finished” my manuscript. So far, five complete overhauls later, it hasn’t been the most appropriate word choice. My writing friends understand, but my non-writing friends either think I’m crazy or a pathological liar. Both of these are possible, but are topics for another day.

Most recently, my agent and I agreed that I needed to make some revisions based on the feedback I’ve received from editors (translation: we looked at the reasons editors gave for saying “er…no…” and agreed I should address them in a rewrite).

One of the main issues was the lack of negative qualities in my main character. I love him dearly, and it showed a little too definitively in my writing. Essentially, he was George Bailey without the reluctance.

I went into the rewrite with a hatchet—not the butter knife I’d been employing up to that point. The antagonist had been an unsavory, cranky witch. But in the rewrite, she became someone who thought, spoke, and behaved so coldly, I had to walk away from the computer several times because of my angry tears. The secondary character, who is the center of the protag’s motivations and actions, had kept one secret before, innocently and without malice. Now she keeps three, and her motives are grubby, not pure.

And then I attacked the protagonist. I gave him violent tendencies, and made sure he acted upon them regularly. I wrote two chapters this way, adding in scenes and interior monologue to go along with this new, improved(?) version of the character.

After one of the most productive writing days I’d had all summer, I came home from my writing spot, and I was exhausted, spent, and crabby. This isn’t unusual for me: I absorb the moods of my characters and it takes awhile to come out of it. My daughters know good and well to avoid me on days I’m writing scenes in the antagonist’s POV,  but I’d never felt that way after a day spent with my protagonist. Still, he was different now, so I figured the feeling would pass.

And then it didn’t. It lasted for days. I believe the word “funk” would apply quite well here. I couldn’t open the document on my computer. I couldn’t talk or even think about where to go next.

After about a  week of this, my daughters asked me why they hadn’t seen me writing. So I told them. Now, they had both read the book when it was “finished” the third time. They don’t know some of the twists and additional scenes I’ve put in since then, but they know my characters. As I described what had happened with the protagonist in the new version, they both interrupted me, nearly simultaneously, and objected.            

“He wouldn’t do that!” “Wait – who did you say? No! That’s not him.”           

At this, my head cleared and I took a breath—and saw that they were 100% correct.

That’s not to say that I shouldn’t muddy up my protagonist. He needs it. He’s not real and relatable without selfish motives and negative impulses and actions. But did you notice how I described the revisions in the paragraphs above? I didn’t even do it on purpose – I just noticed it as I re-read things in the process of writing this article.

Look at the paragraph about the changes in the secondary characters, and compare my wording with the paragraph in which I describe the changes in the protagonist. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Okay, did you catch it?

The secondary characters made their own changes. I followed their lead. The antagonist “became,” “thought,” “behaved.” The other secondary character “keeps” secrets, and her motives “are grubby.”

But in the case of the protagonist, I made the changes. I “gave him violent tendencies” and “made sure” he did something with them. I became the orchestrator, the puppeteer—the obvious, heavy-handed, dictatorial writer. I didn’t follow one of my favorite bits of writerly advice, from Andres Dubus III, to “sit in the back seat and let the character drive.”

So I went back in, and undid all my bossy mandates and let the character tell me what he’d do, and what he’d regret, and what would give him shame and haunt him. The actions were much more subtle, and he tried much harder to suppress them—but that’s true to who he is. Not perfect, but trying very hard to be.

I left that writing session feeling sad for my character, and disappointed in some of the things he’d done. But I was not uneasy and out of sync like I’d felt before.

Now for a real-life twist: I got an email right in the middle of writing this article. It was from my agent, kindly and politely declining to continue to represent me (our contract had expired, so re-signing was contingent on the outcome of this rewrite). My book still doesn’t have enough edginess for her taste, so the agency doesn’t feel as if they’re the right ones to represent me from this point forward.
 

With this in mind, perhaps the conclusion I was leading toward in this piece will ring hollow to you. Maybe you’ll decide to discard all that I’ve learned through this last revision process, since I lost an agent over it. But you know what? I don’t regret the choices I’ve made for this rewrite, even in the face of this slightly jarring outcome that has me more than a little bit nervous.

I still believe that the book, as it stands, represents the story I want to tell. It is true to my characters. It is a book I am proud of, though I’m willing to go back in for more rewrites if another agent decides to sign me.

So I’m going to conclude this article in precisely the way that I originally intended. Here it is: don’t force your characters to be something they’re not. Don’t go so far in your revisions that you no longer recognize those people that were conceived, born, and grew up in your head. If they aren’t right for every agent, every editor, every reader, that’s okay. I don’t like every book I read. I don’t like every song I hear. I don’t like every person I meet.

Let the character decide what he will do in the face of the obstacles in front of him. Let the character lead the story, and let the story lead you. Not your fears of remaining unpublished and your attempts to please every audience. Write the story, employing all your knowledge about pacing, story arc, craft, and language. And revise like a crazy person to make it better. 

Just make sure you know when to stop.

About the Author: Mandy Brown Houk is a freelance writer and editor, and she teaches at a small private high school in Old Colorado City. She's written for several magazines and anthologies, and has completed two novels--only one of which is worthy of the light of day. Mandy is currently seeking agent representation. Her web site is www.mandybrownhouk.com.

The Question Is...

By Mandy Houk

As a creative writing teacher and frequent conference and workshop attendee, I’ve seen my share of character interviews. You know the ones I’m talking about:

“What is your favorite tv show?”

“Are you an only child?”

“What was your most embarrassing moment?”

“Do you floss?”

I don’t mean to be flippant--I actually enjoy character interviews. I use them with my classes, and I use them with my own characters. I don’t necessarily answer each and every question, but I do use the questions that I find helpful and intriguing.

Sometimes the questions trigger ideas for new plot points, or even new characters that lead to huge complications (aka: story). “Recall your scariest childhood memory” resulted in the creation of a horrible playground bully that impacted the lives of not just my main character, but two other major characters, as well. (Side note: in my scary childhood memory, kumquats played a major role. Since it’s difficult to sell kumquats as frightening, in my story they morphed into rocks and unripe pine cones. Behold the power of fiction.)

Sometimes the answers to character interview questions are just fun. They allow me to see my character a little more clearly, even if the details don’t make it into the manuscript. “What’s your biggest pet peeve?” or “Are you ticklish?”

There’s something about knowing the useless details about a character that makes them feel more like a real, tangible individual, at least in my mind. How many useless details do you know about your best friend? Your spouse? Your mom? Details foster familiarity, and familiarity is never a bad thing to foster between an author and a character.

When I’m aiming to get to the heart of things, though, I have two go-to questions, each with natural follow-ups. These questions allow me to see to the core of my characters, and to determine exactly what type of torture to put them through so that their natures are revealed, or their hearts are changed.

1. What is your greatest fear?

            a. What, if anything, would cause you to willingly face that fear?

            b. If there’s no answer to “a”, why not?

2. What is your deepest desire?

            a. Is there anyone/anything for whom/which you’d sacrifice that desire?

            b. If there’s no answer to “a”, why not?

My protagonist’s answers to these questions changed everything for him and for my book. Normally, he’s rock-steady, which makes him infinitely lovable, just not exactly scintillating. But these questions revealed his triggers (hint: he didn’t need to answer ‘b’ on either one), which helped me identify exactly what had to happen in my book to force him to do something bold, something dangerous.

In a completely different way, my antagonist pretty much laughed at both of the ‘a’ questions. And his answers to ‘b’ helped me define exactly how he would react to all the actions of my protagonist and other characters.

In short, I went from a story concept with characters that I felt I knew, and knew I loved, to an actual story, with conflict and tension and believable (I hope) resolution. Not bad for a couple of questions, right?

Try these questions out for yourself and see what happens. And, as with any interview questions, tweak them to your liking.

About the Writer:  Mandy Brown Houk is a freelance writer and editor, and she teaches at a small private high school in Old Colorado City. She's written for several magazines and anthologies, and has completed two novels--only one of which is worthy of the light of day. Mandy's work is represented by Sally LaVenture at Warner Literary Group. Her web site is www.mandybrownhouk.com.