Rounding Out Characters

"So, don't wanna talk eh? Frankie, put 'em under the lights! We got ways of makin' you talk..."

 Ever find yourself here, with a character (or two) in a story? You've got the basics- name, age, social background, maybe even dreams and goals, but...there's something, a lot actually, missing.

 It's the why. Why is your character afraid of the dark? Why does your character sabotage every good relationship that comes his way? Why can't she trust her own decisions? If you don't know the answers to your why questions, your character is going to feel flat. I like to think of it as the difference between a friend and an acquaintance.
  I'll use one of my next door neighbors as an example. I think I know a good amount about her; I've been to her house to visit, she's been to mine. We chat when we see each other outside. I know about her family, her job history, where she moved here from, where she camps in the summer and that she does volunteer work. But the "whys" of her life are unknown to me, making her just an acquaintance. If the same could be said of one of your characters, you know you've got some work to do. 

  If we only provide surface details, our reader will never bond with our characters. It's knowing the dirty, underbelly of a person's life that shows us that they're real, just like us. Knowing their struggles and their pain as well as their triumphs is essential to getting them, and forgiving them when they act out in the future. Or, depending on your story, not forgiving them.

  Obviously, the deeper we go with our characters the more round they are, more like real people. So how do you get there, from flat page to round character? Personally, I tend to think of my characters as real people and my job is to discover the details that will reveal them to my readers as such.

  So following that line of thought, how do you get real people to talk? There are lots of ways! Choose your method based on your character's personality. 

1) The Mobster Interrogation

 The opening line is reminiscent of the classic mobster movie. They have someone who really won't talk. He has secrets and those secrets must come out, no matter the cost. Is this your character? Always hiding something and would be tortured before giving them up? Will his world fall apart (in his eyes) if his past is known? Has he built up an elaborate fake life to keep the truth hidden? Sounds like you might need to write him into a mobster scene. Just grab a blank piece of paper or open a blank document and begin with him in the hot seat, surrounded by tough guys who will do your bidding; ask the questions and get it out of him. Don't flesh out your bad guys, this is about your character, but do remember to show your characters emotions as he's put through the wringer. Which question will he hold out the longest for? This is the key to discovering him.

2) The Police Interview

 For characters who aren't wrapped up in lies and alibis but don't share much as a rule, try the police interview. Actually, this can be lots of fun with little old lady characters too! Put them in a room with an examiner because some petty crime has taken place in their presence. Have them answer the basics like name and birth date. Then expand. Throw in an off the wall question and don't forget to add their surprise, indignant look or lack thereof. What questions annoyed your character? Which made them spill the beans? Did they answer truthfully? How fast did they leave when it was over? Did they make a new bridge partner out of the policeman? Make note of it in their responses without getting long-winded. Remember, "Just the facts ma'am, just the facts".

3) The Hairdresser / The Bartender

 Of course, some characters need no help sharing all their woes and joys with the whole entire uninterested world. Every waitress, cashier and bus driver gets an earful, whether he wants it or not. With these characters it's best to sit them down in a chair for 30minutes to an hour and let their hairdresser or bartender get sick of hearing it, but of course, have no place to go. This is when, not caring if they ever see this customer again, they start asking questions or giving information without regard for your character's feelings. Remember, this is you needling your character into telling you what you want to know. Get to the bottom of their rudeness, their pride, their self absorbed nature. Ask the questions you always wanted to ask the "rude talkers" in your life and let their reactions guide you to the root of their problems. 

  This should give you a good start getting to know your character. It will reveal were you need to go deeper with them. Take all the clues you get from your interviews and then take the next step-


Writing In the First Person

  This is, by far, the best way I've found to really get answers. If I've already done a lot of ground work on my character, I sometimes skip the interview and go straight to free writing in the first person. I write as my character, telling their life story and seeing what it dredges up. Maybe a failed marriage or a dying parent, a happy home, an unfaithful husband, a lost opportunity, a successful career- the interview will help push you in the right direction.
  It usually doesn't take long before you're in this character's head, and once you're there- you're golden.

Symbolism, make fun of it.

  I recently watched a movie about a woman struggling to do the work she loves while those around her openly doubt her abilities and her future success. As one such character is making this clear to her in a pretty crushing scene, an aquarium can be seen in the background. It isn't really large, but the goldfish inside it are. Just as it's said, goldfish will get as big as the tank they're in, it seems these have. I sat there wondering, did they put that tank with huge goldfish in the shot on purpose? Were they trying to hint at the character's need to move on to bigger and better things, that she was a big goldfish in a small tank with no room for growth?
  Well, if they weren't, they should have and what a coincidence. It reminded me that there are lots of fun ways to weave in symbolism in a story, whether anyone gets it or not. Should anyone ever start reading this blog, would you share some ways you've woven symbolism into your writing?

Dreams

My friends and family have been lucky enough over the years to hear a lot of my dreams. Weird dreams, funny dreams, sometimes scary dreams. Okay, so I know they're not really lucky. The thing is, I just can't help sharing them. They're so vivid and detailed, so like real life. I often wake wishing I could have stayed a little longer to see how it all ended, because they never end the way they should-with closure, answers, or a carriage floating off into the sunset.

Lately I've been dreaming about my maternal grandfather. He's not alive anymore and I think that's why when I dream about him, he has this persona. He's the old black and white movie star, tough and manly, yet sweet and always flashing a smile. I can always trust him to fight the bad guy, to protect me, and still keep the mood light-there are no nightmares on his watch. I guess he has a persona because he's just a memory now. He'll never change or surprise me the way people in my daily life sometimes do when they appear in my dreams.

Dreams have always fascinated me. Maybe it's the writer in me that loves a good story, or maybe it's the excitement of a shadowy glimpse into the human mind; both I'm sure. If you're out there, tell me what you think about dreams. I'd love to hear.

The Life of a House

        Warning: this post under construction, awaiting major editing, read with caution!

 A house is an entity. It has an energy, a life. It has also a distinct feel, albeit changeable. The events of life, the real things that occur behind it’s walls, sometimes make the most dramatic impressions on the feel of a house. The simple passing of time, however, is the one thing no house can escape nor remain unchanged by. Families move in and out- a house is always changing.
Of course, it’s a very personal thing, the feel of a house. What might be, to one, a warm, welcoming place of solace filled with happy memories might to another be an empty place with no significance beyond mere shelter.
There is only one house, of which there has been a great many in my life, that I have ever spoken to, ever felt true remorse at having to leave behind. Curiously, when I think of this house, it is the parting that I remember first.  My hand on a wall- a simple wall in an ordinary front hall. Covered, floor to ceiling, in dry, yellowing paper adorned with Southern style plantation houses and wispy trees lining grand entries. I always thought it an odd choice for a farmhouse in Maine. I wondered, who picked it? Was it the lady of the house? Was she young or old? Did she choose it because she loved it, or because there were few choices?  Perhaps she came from the South?  For the three years that I lived in it, and I admit to this day, I wonder about that paper in the hall.
Rooms now empty, voices gone. Another family passed through. Care was given here by my parents, to rebuild what was decaying, to polish what had dulled. Some might call that care love. And why not love a house? Sometimes it loves you first. The idea not your own, but something that simply overtakes you.
An old house has stories to tell about itself. My house had burned boards in the attic, photographs and yearbooks left behind, pictures on the wall quietly marking the years with a dirty outline.  In a space beneath the stairs we found check stubs and letters. But the greatest find of all was a name and a date scrawled across a wood beam.  These are things a new house cannot share, simply because it’s life has been so short.
These stories, half told, excited my imagination as a young girl and endeared me to this house.  They are what caused me, on that last day, to linger after everyone else had gone out. To put hand to fading paper, still reflecting on the life of this house, and say, as if to an old friend- goodbye.