Tag Archives: writing tip

Characters are real people, too – part 2

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A while ago, I did a post with tips on writing well-rounded characters. I decided to follow that up with another post, featuring three more tips on how to flesh out your characters and make them just like real people. We are all more than the sum of our parts, and your characters should be, too.

1. What’s the motivation?

There’s always a why behind the what. Nobody does anything for just “no reason,” even if it seems like it at the time. Even something as innocuous as stopping for ice cream on the way home from work just on a whim has a motivation—you wanted ice cream more than you wanted to get home in a hurry.

Where the plot of a story is concerned, character motivation is a very important feature. Actually, I could devote an entire blog post to this (and many talented writers have already done so). But in short, your characters, major and minor, have a reason for doing what they do. The decisions that characters make is the main thing that drives the plot.

For an example, I’ll use Dumbledore and Snape from the Harry Potter series. (I must insert a quick confession: I’ve actually read only the first three books. But assuming that the movies were at least slightly accurate to the books, I feel comfortable in using these characters for this particular point).

Both Dumbledore and Snape spend the series protecting Harry. They go about in radically different ways, and that stems primarily from their motivation. The end goal for both men is the same: protect Harry. The reason? So that he can defeat Voldemort. But each man has a very different personal motivation for devoting the rest of his life to protect the boy who lived. Just in case you haven’t read the books or seen the movies, I won’t give away all the details; but it’s apparent right from the beginning that Dumbledore and Snape have very different motivations for everything that they do.

2. Challenges and struggles hit everyone

This can be related to motivation, because the way that character responds to challenges and struggles is what makes a plot. A story with characters who never go through troubles, never get stretched or challenged, and make no decisions because they have no motivation, is not a story at all.

There are basically two types of challenges (in stories and in real life): self-imposed struggles, and externally-imposed struggles. A story about a man who loses his wife could be told in many ways: did he lose his wife because of his stupid financial decisions and his refusal to curb his temper (self-imposed struggle), or because his wife was killed in a plane crash (externally-imposed struggle)?

In the His Dark Materials series by Phillip Pullman, the characters all become involved in the plot in different ways. Lee Scoresby finds himself involved in a multi-world war (the struggle) simply by doing a quick helpful deed for a strange little girl (his motivation—kindness and a desire to help out someone in a rough spot).

The character of Will Parry becomes involved in the war (the struggle) because he is on a quest to find his father and will stop at nothing to get answers (his motivation). Because the motivations of these characters is different, they respond to the various challenges and struggles in different ways. They also are faced with their own set of individual struggles (some self-imposed, especially on the part of Will), apart from the war that is the overall plot of the series.

3. Whose head are we in, anyway?

This is sort of a point of view tip (which I blogged about here). But as it relates to characters, the point of view or perspective can be used as a tool for the development of characters. If a story is being told in first person (narrated by I) or limited third person (he or she) then the reader can learn about the character’s quirks, faults, motivations, and decisions through interior monologue as well as external actions.

Characters who are not narrators of the story can only be developed through their actions and dialogue, as presented by the narrating characters. This doesn’t mean that non-point of view characters are flat or lacking some way—it just means that the author must chose a different way to develop the character.

I could use most any story for this example, but I’m going to use Ruse, a short-lived comic book series that probably few people have heard of or read. It was a Sherlock Holmes-esque sleuthing story, set in a steampunk Victorian world. The two main characters are Simon—the detective, and Emma—his assistant and the narrator of the story.

Even though the story is told from Emma’s point of view, complete with her inner musings about Simon, the two characters develop equally well throughout the series. Simon is a well-rounded character because of all of the points that I’ve covered in both of these posts—his quirks, his strengths and weaknesses, his motivations, his response to struggles. Emma’s thoughts about Simon contribute to this, because she is constantly second-guessing him and wondering about his actions.

As a narrator, Emma shares her thoughts with the reader—but not every thought. She has secrets of her own, which Simon often figures out just as fast as the reader does. Simon has secrets too, and towards the end of the series, the reader feels that they know Simon perhaps better than Emma does—specifically because of her inaccurate interpretations of his actions and motivations.

Emma’s quirks, weaknesses, and motivations are revealed as she reluctantly divulges bits and parts of her secrets to Simon (and the reader). Simon’s quirks, weakness, and motivations are revealed as Emma interprets them through her own personal filter. The writer(s) of this series used this limited point of view narration to develop two very strong characters in two very different ways.

Please share your thoughts! Any other tips or ideas about developing three-dimensional characters?

Walk through the Door

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Nike says “Just do it.”

James the brother of Jesus wrote, “Do you need to be shown that faith without actions has no value at all?” (emphasis mine)

Goethe said, “Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do.”

In The Matrix, Morpheus tells Neo: “I told you I can only show you the door. You have to walk through it.”

What’s my point here? My point is that after you’ve learned, studied, believed, been guided, and prepared, it all still comes to nothing if you don’t do something.

While this applies to anything in life, I’m applying it specifically to writing here, since this is supposed to be a writing blog. If you want to be a writer, then you have to write something.

Preparation and training is by all means important. You can—and to one degree or another, probably should—read books and blogs about how to write well. You can plot out an outline for a book, you can do research, you can pore over a baby names website to find the perfect names for your characters. You can put together a playlist of inspiring songs, you can read interviews with all of your favorite authors.

But to be a writer, you actually have to write something.

Side note—I’m not talking about being a published author here (since I’m not one yet). I’m talking about being a writer (I am one of those, because I write).

Sit down and begin the story. Compose a scene, or a bit of dialogue, or the first part of a chapter of your non-fiction book. Your book (or poem or essay or song) will not write itself. And no amount of preparation will get it written, either.

I have been guilty of this more than a few times in the past, of confusing “preparation” with “doing.” I’m a plotter and proud of it, as opposed to a pantser—I painstakingly plot, outline, and make notes about every detail of the plot before I start to tell the story. (A pantser tends to be a bit more of a free spirit-type, and usually will sit down to write before having any idea what they’re going to write about). Neither method is better than the other one, but I think that plotters can fall prey more easily to the deception that “plotting” is the same as “writing.”

Now I am not advocating a lack of preparation. If you don’t have an excellent command of the English language (or whatever language you’re planning to write in), it might help you to take a class or study some grammar and writing books. If your story involves a place, time period, or other subject that you’re not already an expert in, then by all means do some research.

However, I have often gotten so involved in the plotting and research areas that days or weeks will go by without me actually writing anything. Yes, I’m doing important work for my book. But after six days of plotting, brainstorming, developing character backstories, studying maps, and doing other research, I finally take a good look at my manuscript, and discover it’s still blank.

To paraphrase Morpheus’ instructions, you have to walk through the door. Walk is an action, and it’s something that each person must do for themselves. Your English professor can teach you the elements of a good story, but she can’t write the story that’s in your head. Your favorite blogger can give you dialogue tips and point you to sites you can use for research, but he can’t compose your book for you. When Morpheus walked through the Oracle’s door for the first time, he walked through it for himself alone—and now it was Neo’s turn.

And in the world of being a writer, we have to keep walking through the door again and again. Research, study, read, outline…and then go write something. Then it’s back to more researching, reading, and plotting…and then go write something again.

Neo had to step through the Oracle’s door only once–but then he spends the rest of the movie acting on what he learned. It’s a continual process. So is writing. Consistency in writing can be surprisingly hard (and that, I think, is the subject of another blog post). Finding the perfect balance of preparation and action can be challenging, too, and it’s different for every person. But it’s necessary for everyone.

So go read, study, and prepare. And then go write something!

Characters are real people, too

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So what makes a good character?

There have been dozens (or hundreds, probably) of blogs, books, and other articles written about how to write a good character. This is my small contribution to that subject of how to write well-rounded, believable characters full of depth and passion that readers will fall in love with.

I’ll keep this list short, since most of the other blogs/books/etc could probably do a much better job. But here I’ll cover three things that I believe, if utilized properly, can enhance and really help bring to life any sort of character.

So let’s say you’ve got your character’s name, some background information, and their role in the story all worked out. You have their personality, their appearance, and even some likes and dislikes in mind. These are all important, of course, but a character—just like a real person—is much more than that.

1. Everyone’s got a little quirk, vice, or weakness.

This doesn’t have to a major, plot-altering deal. It can be something like the rough and tough motorcycle guy who loves Julie Andrews’ songs, or the exercise-and-organic-food enthusiast who smokes a pack of cigarettes a day. An unexpected habit, a funny catch-phrase, a nervous tick—these are the little things that everyone has, and can add another layer of depth to your characters.

In my current WIP (work in progress), my main character Lyylia is Finnish, and she speaks several languages in addition to her native tongue. However, Swedish is not one of those languages, and in the book, she’s just moved to an area of Finland where Swedish is as widely spoken as Finnish.

This is not a major plot point, actually, and most of the book does not take place in Finland at all. However, it’s a small insecurity for Lyylia, because she is the sort of person who is accustomed to being in control of herself and her situation. Not knowing one of her nation’s official languages is a weakness that she doesn’t like, especially when a friend of hers (who does speak Swedish) gives her friendly teasing about it.

2. Nobody’s perfect

This is different from the first point, because this is more about a major flaw or mistake rather than a quirky weakness. This is often a major plot point, as the character works to overcome their problem, or their mistake influences the direction of the story. And just like good characters aren’t all good, bad characters aren’t all bad. Even the worst bad guy can have a redeeming trait.

For this example I’ll use Lucy Pevensie, from The Chronicles of Narnia. Lucy could perhaps be called the most “perfect” of all of the Pevensie siblings, and she’s the most loyal to Aslan. In Prince Caspian, she sees Aslan when the others don’t and knows she should follow him, but she weakens and listens to the voices of the others telling her she’s imagining things. Later in the book Aslan rebukes her for not being bold and following him anyway; if she had followed him, it would have saved her and the group a lot of time, aggravation, and potential danger.

Lucy’s mistake in listening to the voices of the group instead of the inner voice she knew she should be obeying didn’t alter the entire plot of the book, but for this otherwise near-perfect character, it was a big deal and a big mistake.

3. Your character isn’t you

As the writer, naturally a part of you is in every one of your characters. But not all of your characters should actually be you. (This applies to fiction only, of course; if you’re writing a memoir or something that’s heavily based on real people and real events, then stick to what you’re doing).

Remember the personality, background, and motivation of your character—all of these things contribute to how they would respond to any given situation. And this may be completely not how you yourself would respond.

I’ll use another character of mine, from a temporarily-shelved WIP. This character is rough, rude, and hyper—she likes to pick fights, swears like a sailor, and hasn’t read a book since high school. In short, she is the total opposite of me. So as she interacts with the other characters and situations, I have to remember that she would not do the things that I would do.

Honestly, if I knew this woman in real life, I’d probably strongly dislike her, but in the story, she’s one of my favorite characters—perhaps because she’s so different from me, and writing her character really stretches me.

These three points apply to protagonists, antagonists, and even supporting characters. While it’s important to keep your major characters major and the minor characters minor, even characters with a small role in the story can be three-dimensional. As I stated at the beginning, this is by no means an exhaustive list, and many other authors have done a much better job of writing about how to write characters.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this anyway, though! Any other writers out there who would like to add favorite character-writing tip? Please comment!

The Land of Familiar

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I was at a leadership conference recently, and one of the speakers was talking about stepping out of the land of familiar.

The land of familiar is a great place—it’s different for each person, but it’s comfortable, it’s home. There’s nothing wrong with familiar. It’s a place that gives us stability in our lives, that shapes our world-view. Loved ones are there.

But just like how a baby had to leave the comfortable, familiar arms of mommy and daddy and takes steps on its own in order to walk, we have to leave the land of familiar if we are going to accomplish something new in life.

It doesn’t have to be something grandiose. But as the saying goes, if nothing changes, then nothing changes. And while the land of familiar is a great place to be, it kind of gets to be the same after a while. Familiar.

I’m not trying to give life lessons or success principles here (even though I kind of am, I guess). But as I was learning from this speaker about how to succeed in life, I realized that it applies to writing, too. Writing is, after all, a form and extension of life, isn’t it?

If you want to try a writing exercise, maybe try stepping out of the land of familiar, even just for a little while. Are you a fiction writer? Try cranking out a poem. Do you have a well-polished piece that you’ve never let anyone read? Let a trusted friend give you some feedback. Do you always write in the first person? The third person perspective might give you some new insights into a character.

For me, this blog is a big giant step out of the land of familiar. I’ve never shared any of my writings with more than a few people close to me, and now my words are floating across cyberspace, available for several billion people to stumble across and read. And I’m also putting writing tips and advice into some of my blogs—being in a teacher/instructor sort of role, even via a blog, is a bit out of my realm of comfort.

I’d love to hear your thoughts! Have you stepped out of the land of familiar today?

The First Sentence

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Today’s blog subject I’m totally stealing from one of my favorite blogs that I read. Ava Jae wrote a great post on her Writability blog about great first lines of books.

So to continue on that thread, I decided to write about my take on the first sentence of a story.  What makes a good beginning to a novel or story anyway?

1. The first line should be attention-getting. It’s “the hook,” as folks in the writing world like to call it. A good example of an attention-getting first line can be found in the novel The Third Witch by Rebecca Reisert:

                “’Tis time to rob the dead.”

First of all, it’s a line of dialogue, so it puts the reader right into the middle of something happening. For me, I want to read on to find out who is talking, who they are talking to, and why.

Secondly, it’s a bit shocking. Grave-robbing is not generally something that’s done or even talked about in polite society. Immediately the reader is jolted awake (just in case they’d dozed off somewhere between the cover and the first page).  Not every first sentence needs to be this startling and grisly, but a hook of some sort is a good way to begin a novel.

2. The first line should involve the main character. The MC doesn’t have to be in the first sentence, or even the second or third sentence, but it’s a good idea if the beginning lines point to the MC somehow. As a reader, I, for one, want a story that’s about a character, not just a retelling of a Wikipedia entry.

Here’s a first line that introduces one of the main characters. It’s from C.S. Lewis’ The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, my favorite book from the Chronicles of Narnia.

                There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.

What a humorous—and attention-getting—intro to the book and the character! Right away, Lewis incites both dislike and pity for Eustace, as well as piquing curiosity as to the specifics of why he deserved such a name.

3. The first line shouldn’t be about the weather. I know I’ve read this tip in multiple places, and if I could find the blogs or remember who might have tweeted it, I’d include them here.

Weather (or descriptions of the setting or environment) is certainly important, but so easily it could become the Wikipedia entry that I mentioned earlier. Some sense of setting is good, but we all remember the classic no-no of beginning a story with “It was a dark and stormy night.”

The Voyage of the Narwhal by Andrea Barrett (oddly, I’m using two books about sea-going boats in my examples) has a good first line that involves a mention of the setting and weather, but also has the main character and a hook.

                He was standing on the wharf, peering down at the Delaware River while the sun beat on his shoulders.

So we know it’s a sunny day by a river. But more importantly, it involves the main character, and it leads the reader to wonder why he’s on the wharf and why it’s the Delaware River specifically, and thus read on.

And now, for a final example of a first sentence, here is the first line of the fantasy novel that I’m currently working on:

                It was barely dawn when Lyylia Niiranen hauled her suitcase out of the trunk of the taxi cab.

I’m not claiming that this is the best first line ever, especially according to the criteria I just laid out, and the other examples. But I would be interested in some feedback. Does my first line grab your attention at all? Does it make you want to give the next sentence a chance, or are you already underwhelmed? What are some of your favorite first lines?

Comments are welcome!