Tag: how do I make my characters believable?

Voice Week 2014: Aaaaaa!!!

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VW2014-Mon

September 22 – 26

Yes, friends, the time has come for the fourth annual, astounding, splendiferous, phantasmagorical, pen-bending event known as Voice Week.

Voice Week is a five day blogging challenge wherein average, ordinary citizens of the writing world push their literary abilities to the very limits of sanity–and possibly much further.

We will step outside our own matter-bound heads and into the mysterious, sensational, never-fully-explored minds of characters we have created. And, with luck, we will write in ways we have never written before.

We will write in their voices.

The rules are simple. Write five versions of the same flash story with identical facts but different voices. Make them each about 100 words long. Post one a day, Monday through Friday, September 22 – 26.

It’s not just about five different characters. It’s about five different tones. Five different thought patterns, and five different ways to express the same thing. Maybe your voices are different ages, or from different time periods, or different species.

Whomever they are, your mission is to make them sound different.

In experimenting with different voices, we hope to better understand our characters and to further develop our own unique voices. Voices that will make people recognize our work the way they recognize Dickens or Hemingway.

It’s not a competition; it’s a learning opportunity. And between now and September 22, I’ll point you to different tools that will help you understand what voice is and how to use it.

You can find all the details, including prompts, at Voice Week Headquarters.

I would so love for you to join the fun. Comment below or anywhere over there to get your name on the official Voice Writers list!

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What’s as Dangerous as a Fairy Tale Ending – and How to Avoid It

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Photo by Joe Penna

Photo by Joe Penna

Today’s topic comes to us from Jubilare:

“I worry a lot about the dysfunction of my characters being taken as an approval of dysfunction in relationships.…One can avoid idealizing the flaws, sure, but how does one accept that humans and relationships are flawed without sending out the message that people should be satisfied with potentially abusive relationships…without seeming to say ‘look at the nice romance you can have with people who have X dangerous flaws’?”

We have a tendency to write about seriously flawed people. Depressed addicts with childhood scars and abandonment issues. Let’s face it: they’re just more fun.

But through this, we risk giving our readers a skewed view of the world. Just as sugary-perfect princess endings can train little girls to believe their lives will be perfect once they get married, moving tales of troubled souls can lead readers to believe dysfunctional relationships are the only real kind; that the best they can hope for is to find poetry in the pain. Worse, they might even believe such relationships are romantic, something to chase after.

What guy doesn’t want to hold the manic pixie dream girl when she cries?

What girl doesn’t want to soothe the nightmares of the war-torn bad boy?

Now, some readers will romanticize dysfunctional relationships no matter what you do, just as some will find sexual innuendos, political statements, or religious dogma in places you never intended to put them. That can’t be helped.

But we have a responsibility to do what we can: both to faithfully represent reality and to give readers the courage to improve that reality.

Here are three ways you can do that when writing about dysfunctional relationships. Try using at least two wherever the need arises.

Know the signs.

Read up on the signs of abusive relationships so you know whether or not you’re writing about one. Also research the typical physical and behavioral struggles that come with your character’s flaws. Show realistic consequences; don’t pull any punches when it comes to the pain of living in an unhealthy relationship, even if your hero is the one inflicting that pain.

Show an alternative.

Use secondary characters to show a healthier version of the flawed relationship in question. For instance, if your hero’s parents had a horrible marriage, and he struggles with knowing how to treat the girl he loves, give him a happy aunt and uncle, or a best friend with a good marriage. Give him (and your readers) something to aspire to.

Include a victory.

Every story has a physical plot and an emotional one. A dysfunctional relationship is an emotional plot. Don’t just leave it as-is at the end: make your hero come to terms with these problems at the climax, have him make an ultimate decision, and lead him to at least a small victory in the end.

A note about victory:

Be careful how your hero comes by that victory. Real healing is difficult and painful; it doesn’t happen instantly. Her love alone can’t make him stop drinking. His love alone can’t pull her out of a clinical depression.

But maybe it can help them take the first step.

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Got a writing topic you want talked about? Drop it in the Suggestion Box.

Your plot is useless without this

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Image by Francisco Osorio

Image by Francisco Osorio

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A hundred strangers cling to one another as their runaway train thunders toward a dead end.

Across town, the only woman you’ve ever loved is strapped to a time bomb.

Save her, keep your heart from breaking. But a thousand other hearts get broken instead.

“My husband!” a woman screams as she runs up beside you, clutching a small boy to her chest. “My husband is on that train!”

Save the train, do the right thing, the city will throw you a parade. But all you’ll see through the floats and confetti will be the grief-ridden faces of your true love’s family and the knowledge that you’ll never see her again.

You inhale the deep breath you’ll need for the flight across town.

You’re frozen in mid-takeoff. You can’t take your eyes off the boy in the woman’s arms. He’s the age you were when your father was killed. Young, but you can see in his face he knows what’s happening. Because you felt the same.

Oh, snap. You curse and hammer the keyboard. You threw the little boy in to milk the drama, not to change your hero’s mind—but now you see there’s no turning back. This is going to mean rewrites.

For all the dramatic events that happen around your hero, there are equally dramatic events happening inside him. Events that move him to action. If you don’t keep track of what’s going on inside his head, you won’t be able to predict how he’ll react to any given situation, and by the time you realize it, you might be in a terrible plot bind.

Keep that from happening by mapping your hero’s emotional journey along with the plot. Here are a few guidelines to help.

Outline your hero’s history.

Three forces influence your hero’s decisions: logic, emotions, and morals. What makes sense? What feels best? What’s right? How each of this forces affects him is first determined by his past. So start by outlining his history with questions like:

  • What’s the most traumatic thing he’s ever experienced?
  • What’s the safest he’s ever felt and why?
  • What’s the worst sin he’s ever committed?
  • Which two people have the biggest positive and negative influence on him?
  • What does he want most?
  • (Here’s more help getting to know him)

Use his history to determine how he will react to each major plot point.

The severity of each situation relative to his personal demons will determine his decision. And every decision he makes will affect future events, which, in turn, affect him right back. As the story progresses and the stakes are raised, his decision process will change. Emotional turmoil clouds his moral judgment. Righteous anger clouds his logical judgment. It’s a tumbling system of cause and effect, playing on your hero’s weaknesses and leading to the climax.

Equip him for the ultimate decision.

At the climax, your hero must make one final decision between right and wrong. The forces influencing him are now one big mess of everything that’s happened so far. Of longing and pain and fear.

Make sure that mess includes the motivation for him to make the decision he is supposed to make. If you want him save the people on the train, kill off his father; plant the boy. But if you want him save the girl, you’d better plant something early on that will undermine his empathy for the boy and push him in a different direction.

And if you want him to find a clever way to save everyone (like they do in all the movies), you’d better give him a memory that inspires the answer.

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How to Introduce Your Hero Without Exposition

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Image by Pat Loika

Image by Pat Loika

Your protagonist is up for a job interview.

The position: adventure guide.

The hiring company: your reader.

He’s only got a few paragraphs to make that first impression and convince the reader to take him on for the next 200 pages. He’s got a resume full of great skills like sword-fighting and cat-saving, with a detailed peril history, but your reader isn’t really sure what qualities she’s looking for. Exposition isn’t going to help. She wants to see proof he’ll take her on a wild adventure, and that it’ll be fun, moving, thought-provoking, or all three.

It’s a working interview.

And this working interview—also known as his grand entrance into the story—must be three things:

  1. Memorable. It should be strange, clever, charming, funny, or disturbing. Something that makes the reader wake up and take notice, even if just to figure out what the heck he’s up to.
  2. Insightful. It should show something unique about the character. Elements of his appearance, his actions, and anything he is carrying can all illustrate the kind of person he is, and hint at his background. This can be as simple as mentioning his bum leg, and how he tries to hide it when he meets a pretty girl. Or maybe how he scares his grandkids by driving a fork into it.
  3. Relevant. It should relate to – or introduce – the problem that leads to the plot. The moment normal life gets turned upside down, whether the hero realizes it yet or not. Like Luke Skywalker buying a couple of used droids to help on the farm.

Think of great hero (or villain) entrances in movies and TV, where it’s harder for writers to sneak in exposition:

Pirates of the Caribbean

Captain Jack Sparrow standing on the topcastle of a sinking boat, one hand on the mast as he rides smoothly into harbor, past crowds of astonished eyes, to reach the dock just in time and stride nonchalantly on.

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Arthur Dent in pajamas lying in front of a bulldozer he’s just been informed wants to knock down his house to make way for a bypass. Moments later, a friend arrives informing him he’s got to forget the bulldozer because the Earth is about to be destroyed to make way for a hyperspace bypass.

Doctor Who (new series)

Rose is incredulous to find herself chased by a gang of animated mannequins. The first sign we see of the Doctor is his hand grabbing hers. Rose looks up to see a cheeky grin framed by large, goofy ears. “Run!” he says.

Mary Poppins

Flying in by umbrella. Looking exactly like the imaginary nanny Jane and Michael described. Pulling several large items out of an average-sized carpet bag (evidently it is bigger on the inside).

Star Wars IV

Darth Vader stepping through the hatch to board the rebel ship, surveying the dead with approval, the sound of the soulless breath clicking in and out of his metal lungs.

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What do these entrances say about the characters? What do they say about the adventure to come?

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Should your characters be likable or relatable?

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Image: RoseofTimothywoods

Image: RoseofTimothywoods

You’ve heard about making your protagonists relatable. And you’ve heard about making them likable. Are they the same thing? If not, which is more important?

The difference between likeability and relatability

You relate to a character who is similar to you in some way. This doesn’t mean you have to have the same occupation, background, or religion (though that can help) – it means you share some of the same struggles, weaknesses, or desires. A “deep down, we all just want to be loved,” kind of a thing.

You like a character you can admire. Maybe they have qualities you wish you had or that you aspire to. Or maybe they’re just fun to be around. They could be funny or quirky or extremely loyal.

It’s like the difference between empathy and sympathy – in one, you can actually feel the other person’s pain as if it were your own. In the other, you can only imagine the other person’s pain, but you still root for them.

Relatability can create stronger emotions for the reader. Rather than simply watching your hero go through things, the reader is going through things with the hero.

Likability can create more pleasant emotions for the reader. A hero who is fun to be around, or who earns the reader’s love, can become like a best friend or brother – someone the reader doesn’t want to leave.

Which should you aim for?

They aren’t mutually exclusive: relating to a character can lead to liking him, and vice versa. They aren’t mutually dependent, either: you can like a character who’s very different from you, or you can hate a character who represents all the worst parts of yourself.

Whether you aim for likeability or relatability or both depends on the tone of the story and the traits you already know the character has.

But generally, you should try for a little of both.

How to write likable characters

I talked about this awhile back – right here. There are some relatability tips in there, too.

How to write relatable characters

Again, relatability is more about feelings (pain points and dreams) than about facts (age, sex, religion). The best path to relatability is not to avoid extremes so as not to alienate anyone (you’ll just end up with a nondescript Lego brick), but to tell the truth. Give your hero your own deepest, most powerful feelings, good and bad. Describe in detail how they affect you/him physically, and the thoughts they scream through your head. Nine times out of ten, the response will be “You, too? I thought I was the only one.”

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Who’s your favorite likable character? What character do you most relate to? Why?

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* Thanks to David for suggesting this topic.