6 ways first person narrators can describe themselves

Photo by Sodanie Chea

Photo by Sodanie Chea

If your main character is narrating the story, how do they describe themselves? You could just start in “I have long blonde hair and blue eyes,” but somehow it feels like the next part should be “and I like long walks on the beach.”

It’s awkward for a reason: normal people don’t walk around reminding themselves of their own hair color, eye color and height.

That’s why the mirror is such a bad cliché. I don’t know about you, but when I look in the mirror, I’m not thinking “I have brown hair and brown eyes,” I’m thinking “Man, my teeth are really starting to look coffee stained. I need to do a serious peroxide rinse.”

So unless your protagonist is surveying the results of his face transplant, try one of these alternatives.

1. Don’t describe him at all

Do your readers have to know what the protagonist looks like to understand the plot? If not, consider leaving it out altogether. After all, you want your reader to look through the hero’s eyes, not at them.

Especially if your character is only “average-looking.” Average-ness implies itself and need not be explained. That’s like saying water is wet.

2. Give it to your reader straight

This one is dependant on the style of narration. If you are actually telling the story to someone (with frequent quirky asides to your “dear reader”), rather than telling a story that someone else just happens to read, your hero can simply describe himself during introductions. But be warned: don’t try to force it if this isn’t your style.

3. Embarrass them

Make them self-conscious about a physical flaw. She only smiles close-mouthed because she’s embarrassed by the gap in her teeth. He wishes he had biceps like the head jock.

If you want to get all the important details in at once, have someone super good looking stare at them, to make them extra aware of all their flaws, like John Green does when The Fault in Our Stars protagonist Hazel notices hot boy Augustus is staring at her in their cancer support group, and she thinks about her jeans that sag in weird places, unbrushed pageboy haircut, and ridiculously fat chipmunked cheeks – a side effect of chemo. A laundry list, but the thought flow is logical and natural.

4. Compare and contrast with another character

“My daughter has my crooked smile, but her father’s blue eyes.” or, “We were the strangest pair you’ve ever seen. I was tall and stringy, he was short and pudgy. Standing next to each other, we looked like a lowercase ‘b.’ Or ‘d,’ depending on who was on which side.” These can even create a poetic effect, as you can simultaneously compare and contrast personality traits as well.

5. Use dialogue

Her best friend gently explains dark roots are out of fashion. His father remarks he really ought to cut his hair (he looks like a hippie). Her enemy asks if she’s a natural redhead. Use compliments (“I with I had your thighs!”) and nicknames (Shorty, Stringbean, Pineapple Head).

6. Show, don’t tell

Don’t try to describe the character all at once, but little by little, showing, not telling. If they are short, have them struggle to reach something most others could get. If tall, have them duck through doorways. If they are unattractive, make them self-conscious around people of the opposite sex. If attractive, have others flirt with them. This is a figurative mirror – your hero’s appearance is reflected in the way other characters react to it.

How do you describe your narrator? Tell us in the comments!

girl looking in mirror

Describe your main character without the tired old “looking in the mirror” cliche.

Drunk with Dandelion Wine and in Charge of a Bicycle: a Tribute to Ray Bradbury

photo by Sam Howzit

 He arrived with a seedy two-bit carnival, The Dill Brothers Combined Shows, during Labor Day weekend of 1932, when I was twelve. Every night for three nights, Mr. Electrico sat in his electric chair, being fired with ten billion volts of pure sizzling power. Reaching out into the audience, his eyes flaming, his white hair standing on end, sparks leaping between his smiling teeth, he brushed an Excalibur sword over the heads of the children, knighting them with fire. When he came to me, he tapped me on both shoulders and then the tip of my nose. The lightning jumped into me. Mr. Electrico cried: “Live forever!

I decided that was the greatest idea I had ever heard.*

Tuesday of last week, Mr. Bradbury died.

I sat thinking for awhile about what I would say about him. What was special about his work? Certainly, he had a dark and fantastic imagination. He had an amazing sense of place and a unique way with words. He’s one of the few writers I would read for his voice alone, story aside.

But none of these things do him justice. They are all symptoms of a deeper thing that I feel strongly but that I’m not sure I can put into words.

Remember how everything felt when you were a kid? How much more terrifying and wonderful everything was? Before you got so busy. And jaded. Before you let yourself become ashamed of loving comic books and Saturday morning cartoons and Nancy Drew. Remember how palpably exciting it was to merely pretend to be the captain of a ship? The magic of anticipating Christmas morning that was not only because of the presents? The hot, perfect freedom of summer, and how eternal those three months felt?

We felt things then we can’t seem to feel anymore. We get inklings occasionally, like catching the faintest whiff of a familiar scent, but it seems we’ve forgotten how to really feel them.

Bradbury brings it all back.

 He writes in the passion of feeling we had when we were children. I don’t mean “passion” and “feeling” like drama. I mean magic. Wonder. His words are dripping with it. We drink them and become intoxicated with it.

Hold summer in your hand, pour summer in a glass, a tiny glass of course, the smallest tingling sip, for children; change the season in your veins by raising glass to lip and tilting summer in.***

Ray Bradbury never forgot the boy in him. When he wrote, he didn’t have to twist his brain around to squeeze out words like so many of us do. He opened a fire hydrant of his own childhood wonder, and magic came gushing out.

Every morning I jump out of bed and step on a landmine. The landmine is me. After the explosion, I spend the rest of the day putting the pieces together.**

Bradbury’s stories are time machines. Except they don’t take us back to a particular place or era. They take us back to ourselves.

When it is a long damp November in my soul, and I think too much and perceive too little, I know it is high time to get back to that boy with the tennis shoes, the high fevers, the multitudinous joys, and the terrible nightmares. I’m not sure where he leaves off and I start.*

The boy mentioned at the top of this post was Ray Bradbury 80 years ago.

And it will be Ray Bradbury forever.

“Now it’s your turn,” he prods us toward our own landmines:

“Jump!”**

 

* Zen in the Art of Writing: Drunk and in Charge of a Bicycle

** Zen in the Art of Writing: How to Climb the Tree of Life, Throw Rocks at Yourself, and Get Down Again Without Breaking Your Bones or Your Spirit, A Preface with a Title Not Much Longer than the Book

*** Dandelion Wine

What to do if your novel has no point

On my desk is a tiny contraption which, when cranked, plays part of Here Comes the Sun. It has no other purpose. Unlike a music box, you can’t store stuff in it. It doesn’t even play the whole song. I paid $9 for this contraption. I could buy nine full songs on iTunes for that.

But it was worth every penny. I would totally buy it again.

In fact, it’s the second one I’ve bought. The first one is on my desk at work and plays the Pink Panther theme song.

The point?

Not everything has to be a cure for cancer. Not everything has to be an insightful commentary on the human condition. Not everything has to be educational or inspirational or profitable.

The world needs more things that exist just to make us smile.

Don’t fret if your adventure novel is more Cussler than Homer. Don’t be ashamed because you prefer to write about elvish magic than about social issues. Don’t let the pseudo-intellectuals look down on you if your science fiction masterpiece is less Fahrenheit 451 and more Beatnik Rutabagas from Beyond the Stars. Those people are like Vulcans at a baseball game. They just don’t know how to have fun.

The power to brighten someone’s day is just as valuable as the power to help someone get a new perspective, or accept a hard truth, or take action for a cause.

Some things exist to save the world. Some things exist to make the world worth saving.

I, for one, am willing to fight for a world in which things like this exist:

 

Inspiration Monday: satellite hack

Spent the morning cross-checking 47 different reference points for a medical brochure. Spent the afternoon writing copy for a lost goat flier. My life is so deliciously weird.

Read up! Laugh, cry, think!

LoveTheBadGuy

Chris

UndueCreativity and another

 Kim

Craig


The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.

OR

No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:

Satellite hack

Waiting to be rescued
Hoping he’ll notice
Own the world
If you’re reading this, it’s too late

 

Want to share your Inspiration Monday piece? Post it on your blog and link back to today’s post (here’s a video on how to do it); I’ll include a link to your piece in the next Inspiration Monday post. No blog? Email your piece to me at bekindrewrite (at) yahoo (dot) com.

Plus, get the InMon badge for your site here.

Happy writing!

Inspiration Monday: post-apocalyptic daydream

Computer fixed! Notes recovered! Time…still minimal. I’ll shoot for this Friday for the First Pages post, but might have to push it again. : /

Meanwhile, read some fantastic work! You guys are so darn talented!

Chris

LadyNimue

UndueCreativity and another

UnhealthyObsessionWithWords

PenNTonic

Kim

Craig

Hugmore (couple weeks ago)

 

The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.

OR

No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:

Post-apocalyptic daydream
Hungry for less
Stolen name
Invisible link
Lights up when he walks away

 

Want to share your Inspiration Monday piece? Post it on your blog and link back to today’s post (here’s a video on how to do it); I’ll include a link to your piece in the next Inspiration Monday post. No blog? Email your piece to me at bekindrewrite (at) yahoo (dot) com.

Plus, get the InMon badge for your site here.

Happy writing!