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Character Analysis 101 6/27/2010 2:03:13 PM
Where do your characters come from? This blog explores my ideas about character devlopment. What are some of yours? Where do your characters come from? It’s an endless talking point in fiction. Like snowflakes and fingerprints, the process that puts a character on a page differs for every writer. And really, I’d like to know where you get yours. Is it a metamorphosis, characters developing alongside a plot or your story that dictates invention? Maybe your characters are night stalkers: shadowy specters that drift on a dream, soaking into the subconscious, materializing on a blank page the next day. The vampire market being what it is this certainly seems plausible. Naturally, a large segment of the character populace is reality based. Knowingly or not, pretend people reflect those you’ve encountered, someone who’s made a lasting impression.
If we’re focused on physical elements—topic enough for one blog—I’m an admitted trait thief. Outwardly, my characters are custom crafted jigsaw puzzles. They’re cut and spliced by way of idiosyncrasies and items I’ve pocketed like the Artful Dodger. It’s never anything huge. More like the gait to a stride or a neatly rolled shirt sleeve revealing a man’s watch, maybe his skin, depending on who he is. But always, for me, it’s a mannerism that sets a character in motion. And for better or worse it adheres to them like gum on a shoe. There’s a young woman who stocks the shelves in a pharmacy I frequent. She’s not particularly amiable, barely responsive if you say hello. Honestly? There’s nothing remarkable about her—except her cheekbones. They are the quintessential, Boeing designed variety that can give a face… well, character. Add to that whatever Cover Girl blush she’s sporting direct from the cosmetic aisle, and it’s the perfect complement. I suppose no one would be more surprised than her to learn that they’re Mia’s cheekbones—the main character in BEAUTIFUL DISASTER. It bothers me now when I pass by her on the personal hygiene aisle. I want to tap her on the shoulder and say, “Smile, dear. Your cheekbones will soon be featured in a Barnes & Noble near you.” Of course I realize that this might not provide her with the same giddy thrill it does me.
Still, it’s an intriguing topic to hear how writers happen upon their characters, even if we’re only talking surface stuff, the physical components. (I’m not sure I’ve written enough blogs or books to take on a character’s internal makeup) However, I do have one standout recollection on character development. I once took an online fiction class where part of the coursework was to examine the origin of our characters. There was a male writer in the group who described his main character, a woman, as “unfortunately unattractive to men, a hardworking gal with terminally wind chapped hands and the figure of a terracotta pot.” In his story “Juanita” owned a successful pastry shop where she was destined to meet her hero, a man who would love her for who she was rather than what she looked like. (And don’t we all wished the world worked like that) Anyway, the author was so focused on the negatives of his character’s appearance that we took it upon ourselves to collectively accentuate the positive. We suggested things such as nobleness, intelligence, and a quick wit. Maybe Juanita could invent the world’s first four calorie donut—anything to deflect her obvious lack of America’s Next Top Model looks. I think we achieved lukewarm results. We learned the upshot of giving a character class president qualities while saddling her with the face of a basset hound and the body of a pug. Clearly, altruism is not always at the forefront of romance. But I have to tell you, the jaw-dropper came at the end of the class when said male writer confessed to being a woman. She went on to admit that she indeed owned a successful pastry shop. Interested in writing, she also thought a faceless gathering of resourceful souls might offer inspiration—if not a plan—to her apparently autobiographical character. Some writers were offended by her flagrant abuse of our collective imaginations; I gave her points for ingenuity. Keep in mind the premise of the exercise, which was to examine the origin of your character. If his… um, hers was autobiographical, so be it. And I think that may be the ground zero between characters and real people. You never know who’s going to show up.
