Creating Characters (18 page)

Just about everyone, at one time or another, will utter a cliché that will in turn summarize how he feels about a certain situation. These statements usually serve as a verbal shorthand and provide a quick insight with regard to something that an individual believes. Some examples:

Practicality: Handsome is as handsome does. Sexual Equality: What's good for the goose is good for the gander. Perseverance: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Leniency: Spare the rod, spoil the child. Compromise: To get along, you've got to go along.

Do you know of a proverb that one of your characters might use that would summarize how he feels about something?

A person who leaps head first into extremism—i.e., the total acceptance and fervid promotion of all tenets pertaining to a particular philosophy—is almost always a person who spurns all reason and sees things in black and white only. Consequently, his beliefs are "good" in his eyes and anything contradictory is of course "bad." In his mind, there are no gray areas and therefore there is no room for discussion. More often than not, he becomes an unqualified mouthpiece for the philosophy he supports, spewing slogans in all directions like a volcano belching ash.

The three most common extremists are the disciple, the dogmatist, and the fanatic, and writers have frequently used them as characters in their stories, within which they usually appear as either tragic or comic figures. The line that divides these three is extremely fine, and some traits that can be found in one can also be found in another.

Disciple

The disciple accepts, without question, all aspects of a particular doctrine or the teachings of someone who espouses that doctrine, or both. He frequently promotes not only the tenets of the doctrine but the virtues of its leader as well. He is melded into the group and becomes subservient to it. As such, his personality becomes significantly modified. He takes pride in the sacrifices he has made, the hardships he has endured, and the time he has devoted on behalf of the "cause."

Dogmatist

The dogmatist and disciple are much alike, except that the dogmatist is more prone to slide into anger whenever his beliefs are challenged. For the most part, the dogmatist is likely to be quite stubborn and inflexible. He does not like to admit he is wrong. He will speak long and loud about what he sees as the merits of his philosophy, but he will have no patience whatsoever with any statements that counter his claims. To him, dissent is intolerable. The dogmatist is, metaphorically, a table-pounder. If any subject comes up that challenges his beliefs, he will fight to have the last word; otherwise, he may well be silent and look for instances where he can feed and greatly nourish his convictions.

Fanatic

The fanatic is a character whose self-conviction is no longer enough; he must pound everyone else into his way of thinking as well. He is a lightning bolt of lopsided thought. Rather than compromise, it is kill or be killed. So dark and stifling is his extremism that simple reason—poor thing—has no room to breathe. His frenzy of enthusiasm for or against something perverts his behavior and twists it completely out of the norm. This is a character who supports measures that place him at the forefront of danger. Here is the anarchist, the zealot, and the wild-eyed radical who is willing to sacrifice himself and others in the name of the cause.

The strengths or weaknesses that cause plots to thicken are almost always members of a character's internal family of traits (a rather extensive list of which appears in Chapter 1). In
Othello,
for example, Shakespeare uses the persuasive skill of one character (Iago) to play upon the gullibility of another (Othello), who easily becomes convinced of his wife's infidelity.

Some strengths or weaknesses, however, are secondary, and if they have any plot-generating ability at all it is severely limited. Case in point: In the motion picture
Rainman,
one of the main characters (brilliantly portrayed by Dustin Hoffman) is autistic, but he has the remarkable ability of instantly calculating large numbers in his head. His brother takes advantage of that skill to make himself some quick money at the gambling table. Afterwards, this particular strength fades quickly in importance, and a much greater emphasis is placed upon the evolving relationship between the two brothers.

The purpose of this chapter is to draw your attention to those
secondary
strengths, weaknesses, and habits your character may have—the kind that add only an extra interesting facet and little more.

Now, in most cases, whether it is of principal or secondary importance, a character's strength will be seen as a positive trait and his weakness as a negative one. On the other hand, it may depend upon who's doing the looking, for strengths and weaknesses can surely be an arbitrary matter. One character may view another's strength as a weakness and his weakness as a strength. It all depends on how the author tells the tale, and upon which character he bestows the ability to understand the difference.

In either case, it will do the writer little good to assign a particular strength or weakness to a character if it is not somehow going to be tested during the story. For example, it would be pointless to let the reader or viewer know that a certain character has a photographic memory if he or she is never going to be placed in a situation where that strength can be displayed.

Besides strengths and weaknesses, this chapter will also briefly examine some habits—another device for adding true-to-life detail or dimension to your characters.

There are two kinds of strengths and weaknesses: inherited and acquired. The difference is important.

Bestowed at conception, an
inherited strength
is viewed as a blessing and is often called a talent. Its presence is inexplicable, and it can develop into an extraordinary skill.

By contrast, an
inherited weakness
is usually seen as a curse that is blamed upon the recipient's ancestors. It is usually called a failing, and often inspires mean remarks like, "You can't turn a sow's ear into a silk purse." Usually, someone with very little ability in a certain area will not show much interest in it. Obviously, there are exceptions: there are bad actors in the movies and in the theater, for example, and press reviews attacking their ability seem unable to diminish their enthusiasm.

An
acquired strength
gives credence to that old saying, "Practice makes perfect." One is not born an expert marksman, for example; it takes a lot of shooting (and missing) to become one.

An
acquired weakness,
on the other hand, is an inability to pass up what the body or mind has become accustomed to. At some point in life a person may be irresistibly lured toward the direction of something that should be left untouched, and forever after he may suffer the same temptation. To resist the temptation, even just once, is to enjoy a small moment of heroism. Ex-smokers know the feeling.

Does one of your characters have a particular strength
or
weakness that may help to distinguish him from others in the story?

In terms of strength, for example, does the character have a strong memory? Exceptional will power? An aptitude for mechanics or mathematics? Does he have a strong sense of direction? Outstanding eyesight? The ability to recuperate quickly? A keen attention to detail? Does he have a superb physical agility or stamina?

Regarding his weaknesses, is he afflicted with asthma, poor eyesight or hearing, bad coordination, a low sex drive? Is he forgetful? Is it hard for him to pay attention? Does he have below-average organizational skills, or perhaps rotten taste in clothes? Is he unable to stay away from cigarettes, candy, beer, whiskey, or desserts? Is he a coffee junkie?

It is not practical, or even possible, to list all the strengths and weaknesses that one might encounter among human beings. The important thing is to start thinking in that direction. As you develop your fictional character, surely you will be able to develop the strengths and weaknesses that are more pertinent.

But it might help to think of a character's strengths and weaknesses as falling into one of three categories: physical, mental, or social. The
physical
could include anything that involves using the body in some way, with hand quickness, singing, nimbleness, extraordinary eyesight, and stylishness being among some of the possibilities.
Mental
strengths or weaknesses could involve numbers, intuitiveness, the arrangement of concepts, navigation, memory, solving puzzles, keeping track of things, and so on. The
social
aspect always involves interacting with other people; some of us are good at it and some of us are not. A character who has a strength or weakness in this area could be either gifted or woefully inadequate when it comes to keeping peace in the family, telling jokes and stories, motivating others, lovemaking, developing friendships, mixing well with strangers, and so on.

Essentially, there are two kinds of habits in which human beings will engage: voluntary and involuntary.

Voluntary
habits are those routines we follow on a regular basis, and they need not necessarily be accompanied by sound reasoning.
They are the kinds of actions that, for some reason, we do not like
to
see interrupted; when they are, conflict often results.
If, say, there is one washing machine in a small apartment building and a certain tenant has a habit of washing her clothes on Monday, imagine the argument that might ensue if a new tenant wanted to wash her clothes on Monday as well. In that light, a character's particular habit can be used to say something important about his or her nature, as well as perhaps add a new dimension to the plot.

An
involuntary
habit usually occurs with no help from one's conscious mind. It represents a form of behavior that, while not necessarily persistent, will occur often enough to be viewed as a habit by others who observe it.
For storytelling purposes, more often than not it is the kind of habit that gets on other people's nerves.
A character who unconsciously picks his nose while reading a book, or blinks his eyes a lot, or invariably clears his throat while speaking, or nervously taps his fingers, or hums off tune in the shower could eventually test someone's patience.

Whether voluntary or involuntary, a character's habit may not be seen as either a strength or weakness. Rather, it will be a peculiarity that could possibly have some potential for plot-building or comedy, or both.

What is there about the character's background that is important for the reader or viewer to know? What purpose will be served by presenting it? Put another way, would anything be lost, or would the nature of the character be rendered less clear, if nothing at all was written about some of the things that have happened in the character's life prior to the beginning of the story?

Or look at it from your side: What could possibly exist in the character's background that would help you, the writer, to better understand him or her, and which in turn would possibly allow you to convey that character to your audience more effectively?

If it is in fact important for the reader or viewer to learn something about the character's background, how should that information be presented? Should it appear in the form of one or more flashbacks? Should it be revealed through a casual first-or third-person narrative? For the sake of suspense, would it be better to merely hint of the past and not get into specifics? Should insight into a character's background be limited to only a throw-away line, or should it consume one or more chapters? Only you know what's best for your characters and your story. Only you know what kind of imprint the past has left on a character's psychology.

If you wish to delve into a character's past, either for the benefit of your audience or because you have a need to know as much as possible about someone before committing him or her to paper, what follows are some background categories that you may wish to review. Among the questions presented within a particular category, there may be something that could lead you to a truth you might have otherwise overlooked—or to further questions that will eventually point you in the right direction.

What, if any, achievements can the character point to in his life? For example, has he, under adverse conditions, raised a child of whom he is extremely proud? Has he built a business from scratch? Paid off all his debts? Delivered on a promise? Saved someone's life? Become successful when no one thought he would? Did he, to his credit, take the high moral ground on a particular issue while others chose the opposite approach? Did he attain what some thought was impossible?

If he was successful at doing something, how many others know about it? Is it something that he keeps to himself? How long did it take him to realize the achievement?

Has anything happened in the character's life that he categorizes as an adventure? What is its nature, and what attributes does it have that tend to set it apart from all other experiences that the character has had? Did it happen when the character was a child or an adult? Has there been more than one adventure?

Who else was involved in the adventure? Did it happen unexpectedly? If not, how did it exceed the character's expectations?

Is the adventure the kind of thing the character still likes to talk about? Does he still find it hard to believe that it actually happened? Does he wonder how he ever got through it? Is it something he wishes he could do again?

On the day the character was born, did anything particularly newsworthy happen, such as a tornado, fire, or important political event? Did the character have a good childhood or one that he would rather forget? In what kind of neighborhood was he raised? Was he seen as a "hell raiser" or a "good kid"? Who were his best friends, or did he have any? Among other kids in the neighborhood, was he a leader or a follower? What did he like to do more than anything else? What did he dislike the most? Was he afraid of anyone or anything? Did he have a recurring dream?