Category Archives: characters

3

Rest assured, I’m a doll

It’s no secret that one of the best things about reading a really good book that features a dashing leading man or desirable leading lady (depending on your type) is developing a secret (or not so secret) crush on the character. Entire blogs are dedicated to “book boyfriends” or “literature loves” and if only there were more alliterative phrases I would keep going. The fact of the matter is, a well-written book gives you an insight into a fictional character that is so deep, so real that you get to feel as if you know this character as a person. Any romantic thing they do is doubly swoonworthy since it’s so easy to insert yourself into the pages of the book.

This isn’t new and don’t pretend you’ve never done it, never had oddly overly affectionate feelings for a character who not only doesn’t exist, but whose visage, demeanor and gait you’ve come up with all on your own, with only a little help from nice adjectives and descriptive phrases.

What about, though, falling in love with the person behind the words? Authors, especially authors long since gone, have a real mysteriousness and intangible quality about them that is just so. darn. attractive. I have a friend who is insufferably in love with Ernest Hemingway and another who would give anything, anything to meet John Keats.

Personally, though I have never before had any previous inclination, I’m leaning a little towards one Mr. J.D. Salinger, of late. Yes, the misanthropic shut in who also, apparently carried on an epistolary relationship with a young woman he had never met. Sure, the romantic aspect of this is ramped up by the long lost letters component, and today’s equivalent of emails and text messages just won’t compare, but his self-deprecating boasting and little endearments really show a different side to the man no one really knew too much about.

After melting a little bit at “Sneaky girl. You’re pretty,” tell me about any of your author crushes or any authors you’d do anything to simply exchange letters back and forth with for years, even if it only amounted to something to look back on and smile fondly at later.

5

Man haters?

I love Junot Diaz. I think he is an amazing and imaginative writer and I like to read everything of his that I can get my hands on, so it is no surprise that I read the interview he gave to NPR this week. And what really caught my attention was his characterization of men through the eyes of women. Diaz says

But look, bro, are you telling me that if I get all the women of the United States and gather them all together and then say, ‘Do you highly recommend American men?’ that you’re going to get, like, a sterling recommendation? That these women are going to be like, ‘Oh, yes, American men are fantastic! These dudes have done so well by us.’ I think that every culture, if you got all the women of that culture together and said, ‘Grade your men,’ I don’t think any country — even a place like Denmark, which has this famous sort of gender equality — would give their men anything higher than F as a collective. And that’s a reality.

If you’re familiar with any of Diaz’s work, you’ll be able to see a parallel between the above quote and the characters in his stories—basically, his male characters are always jerks because that’s what he believes women see. Author Craig Nova comes to a similar conclusion about the characterization of men in fiction, except he laments it. Nova complains that male characters are rarely the good guys anymore, and are more often characterized as dead-beats and dogs. But in his own life, Nova can think of plenty of great male role models.

And as I think about Nova’s words, I am hard pressed to find a completely stand up, great guy in any of my recent reading. But the world isn’t full of men who are just jerks, so why aren’t our fictional men more diverse? How did we get here? Why do you think these two men portray their gender so differently in their fiction? And which do you think is more truthful of men in real life?

1

You Are What You Read

I’m something of a science nerd, so I love it when science and literacy come together. Fortunately for me, I get just that in this Jezebel article about readers emulating their favorite characters. The study reveals that readers can shift their thoughts and actions to match their favorite literary character and attempt to live vicariously through a character by taking on what we think would be his or her thoughts, actions and emotions.

I know that there have been plenty of times when I have stopped to think, “What would so-and-so do in this situation?” and this article really made me think back and reflect on my habits and reading. I love to re-read Gone with the Wind, and I feel protective of Scarlett as I imagine what life might have been like for her. Now I wonder if I’m more flirtatious or take on more of a ruthless attitude towards the world as I read and think about Miss O’Hara.

What do you think? Have you ever lived vicariously through a book character? Do you think you emulate your favorite characters?

20

Entirely Coincidental?

Not long ago, I was reading a novel when I encountered someone I knew. Not on the train, or at the next table, or passing by the park bench where I sometimes attempt to read while my children are playing.  In the novel.

 There, despite a change of name and a few identifying features, was a person I knew quite well, rendered in mostly accurate but less than flattering detail. I had been tipped off by a mutual friend that this was the case, but it was eerie—and faintly thrilling—to find so familiar a figure pinned (if not unforgivingly than at least uncomfortably) to the page.   Here, the standard fiction disclaimer that “any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental” was patently untrue, and I expect that the book’s guest star was none too pleased with his portrayal. Since I don’t know the author well enough to ask her, I thought I’d pose the question here: To what degree do you incorporate recognizable versions of real people in your own fiction, and have you run into some difficult situations as a result? Where and how do you draw the lines between fair game and off-limits?

8

Who should I be for Halloween?

With Halloween right around the corner, small talk has changed from discussing the weather to inquiries from friends to total strangers on the subject of costumes. I, for one, am terrible, absolutely terrible at coming up with Halloween costume ideas and often just resort to throwing something predictable together out of the clothes that I already own about five minutes before I’m supposed to be anywhere a costume is required. One year recently, I just threw on some black leggings, a turtleneck and cut a misshapen strip of fabric with eyeholes and declared myself a burglar. I’m that kind of imaginative.

It all usually ends up being okay, but there are so many other with such excellent and creative ideas for costumes, that it makes me a little jealous. I’m most envious, not of the extremely elaborate or complicated get-ups that transform people into humorous caricatures or frightening beasts, but of those who simply turn themselves into another human—a character from a book (little or well-known) or play. These characters many know only from description and often have mental images of specific to the individual reader, but they are somehow instantly recognizable with the rights array of vestments and props.

There are the obvious, the Harry Potters and Alices (in Wonderland!). A Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, with one half of the face kindly and the other twisted and evil would be great, if not a little work-intensive. A particularly distinctive author—Mark Twain, perhaps—would be a little more difficult, but certainly recognizable. Or you could go even more obscure, with something like this, a perfect replica of the cover for one of my favorites, Richard Brautigan’s Trout Fishing in America. The possibilities are endless, and everyone loves guessing the identity of a really great, creative character costume.

I haven’t quite settled on my boring costume of the year, so if you can come up with any ways to make a great literary figure into a costume, let me know! Have you ever dressed up as a character from a book before?

6

Hot messes

I’ve been reading a fair amount of category fiction lately, in part because that’s what seems to be working in the e-publishing universe at the moment.  As a result, I’m encountering tons of literary clichés, chief among them the dark, brooding, tortured hero with flowing mane, abs of steel and damaged-but-still-beating heart of gold—your typical romance hero, in other words.  And we all know who was responsible for these prototypes…that crazy old storyteller Homer.  Nah.  Despite how hunky and troubled Hector, Achilles, and Odysseus are, it was the “lady writers” who really turned this type into a cottage industry.  If you think about it, there’s a direct line from Austen and Bronte to Stephenie Meyer and Eloisa James (sorry, the latter don’t rate single names yet; maybe in a century or two) and the swooning readership that fell in love with Mr. Darcy and Heathcliff when they were hot off the presses (no pun intended) was probably not all that different from the one that has made Twilight into an international phenomenon.  I’m not the only one who says so, either.

But, what about the less than dreamy heroes?  The Raskolnikovs and Yossarians? The neurotic and often substance abusing characters in Hemingway and Fitzgerald novels?  The angst-ridden suburbanites of Updike and Cheever?   I mean, sure, they’re hot messes, for the most part, and most do not have washboard abs.  But, aren’t they just a little sexy too?  Or is it just me?

Who are your swoon-worthy literary heroes?   And, do you prefer tall, dark and handsome or short, insecure and funny?

7

Quirks

I was going through some old folders of things I’d kept from high school and college the other day and came across an envelope with my name on the front and a dozen or so scraps of paper inside. It was only when I opened it and read a couple of them that I was reminded of my high school drama classes and the various exercises we went through to try and develop different characters. For this one in particular, envelopes were passed around with each person’s name on the front. Instructions were to write on a slip of paper a few qualities about each person and put it in the appropriate envelope. Ultimately, the task was to come to school the next day and embody the exact opposite of what the slips of paper dictated who you were to other people.

Despite that the majority of my descriptions either included or were solely “tall, nice, talks fast” and that I must have had no other option than to come to class the next day walking on my knees and being slowly rude to people, the exercise, if it had been done properly, was actually quite a good one as far as character development. It’s easy to start writing with an idea of what types of characters are going to play parts in your novel or other work of fiction, but to truly write them well, they must be layered, multifaceted and have quirks and odd qualities individual to each. Then, of course, these little nuances, histories and habits must be brought about discretely and appropriately, because it hardly works if in introducing a character, the author simply lists and dictates who this person is.

Even the most minor of characters must have some distinction. All of these things must be worked out. Sometimes, they come circumstantially or organically, as the plot if written or turns a certain way, a natural reaction occurs in a particular character. To start, however, an author has to really know who their characters are—even if certain traits never make it on the page, many writers are aware of them anyway.

How do you develop and enhance your characters so that they become real people instead of flat, two dimensional archetypes?

1

Diving right in

In this age of the Internet, social networking, BBM, Twitter pictures (ahem), and ever-shortening attention spans in general, it isn’t surprising—unfortunate, but not surprising—that the same effect has somewhat permeated the book realm.  It was only yesterday, as we met with film agents, that an admission was made that film rights to a book had been purchased by a production company based only on the title. How is that even possible? The title, and nothing else?

Anyway, this means that aside from giving books heart-stopping titles, writers need to grab the interest of readers, agents, and publishers from the very first page—even the first sentence—of their story.

So how can a writer achieve this? I’ve said before how much I love lists. Some thoughts on making your novel compelling right from the start:

  1. In the simplest sense, get right to it. Introduce your protagonist in the first paragraph and start right away with dialogue and action as opposed to long descriptions or background information.
  2. Develop the main character quickly by putting him or her in the center of conflict as soon as possible.
  3. When developing the main character, do so through interaction and dialogue with other characters rather than through inner reflection.
  4. But don’t introduce too many characters in the very beginning.
  5. Lastly, don’t forget that when drafting, you can always start the story where you feel most comfortable. Revisions will then bring the opening action to the forefront, drawing the reader in from the very beginning.

Yes, the query letter may be everything when pitching a book. But it is just as important to make sure the story itself will draw the reader in right from the start.

8

Oh, Mama!

With Mother’s Day coming up, I’ve been thinking about the best and worst mothers in literature.  I’ve got a pretty excellent mom if I do say so myself, but so many literary characters seem a bit lacking in that department.

By far the worst, in my estimation, is Beth Jarrett in Ordinary People.  Poor Conrad Jarrett—I still can’t look at Mary Tyler Moore the same way after seeing her spot-on depiction of Beth in the film adaptation.  You toss that hat in the air, Mary, like you’re a happy, warm-hearted person, but I know deep down inside you’re awful.  I’m not buying it for a second.

There are many runners up, though.  I think we can all agree that Flowers in the Attic’s Corinne is seriously failing her children.  The mom in Carrie isn’t winning any prizes.  And if we’re counting Christina Crawford’s Mommie Dearest, well, I think we all know about the wire hangers.

I’m hard pressed to come up with a best.  Marmee from Little Women is close, but she did produce Amy, so that’s some points off for her.  A recent entry into the canon might be Ma in Room—it’s hard to imagine better mothering under such circumstances.  Plenty of mothers are much worse without such dire constraints.  Caroline Ingalls is pretty great, as I recall, though I remember Pa better, frankly.

But I bet you all can come up with even better options.  There must be some reallllllly lovable mom out there in the world of books, right?  Who would you nominate for best and worst literary mom?

To all the mothers out there, including Jane, Miriam, Stacey, Jessica, and most especially the world’s greatest mother, mine, have a wonderful Mother’s Day on Sunday!  If you’re in one of those countries where mother’s day has already passed or is yet to come, go ahead and have a great day anyway!

8

Likeable?

Over the weekend, I came to the sudden realization that the manuscript I was considering wasn’t working for me for a specific reason: I found some of the characters to be completely unlikable. Of course, I admit that this is a pretty subjective reason to turn down a book. I don’t think that characters should be entirely free of unlikable qualities, necessarily, but I do think that characters need to be likable in order for the book as a whole to work.

I wouldn’t say this is an easy fix, though. There has to be something about that character that allows the reader to be connected emotionally to their story. There also has to be a certain complexity to a character’s personality, one that allows for gradually revealing different traits and characteristics over the course of the story. There has to be a certain vulnerability to the character. I think the perfect character is one who is far from perfect, but for whatever reason we as readers can’t help but be drawn to them.

So for a writer, if a person comes back to you, having read your manuscript, with the critique that your characters are unlikable, how do you fix something like this? Admittedly, you could just take your manuscript to someone else, who hopefully does like you characters, but if the goal is to improve the story, how do you tackle this? Writing strong characters can be tricky, and I’m curious to know what techniques, if any, do you as writers utilize to clear a hurdle like this.