Ask David Corbett discussion

In The Art of Character: Creating Memorable Characters for Fiction, Film, and TV, I point out that a lot of writers derive their characters from their story ideas. In the hands of an accomplished writer, this can prove unproblematic, but all too often, even in accomplished hands, in can result in the creation of plot puppets, not characters.

By plot puppet I mean a character that seems to have no other existence than as a cog in the wheel of the story. There seems to be little surprising about the character, and nothing that can’t be predicted on what’s required by the events that comprise the plot. And to the extent the character does surprise, it feels more the result of gratuitous plot twists than the internal needs, wants, fears, etc. of the character herself.

It’s the lack of surprise that’s deadly. If your reader can sense the character’s possibilities from the get-go, what’s the point of continuing? A plot puppet can be further elaborated, but she can’t be developed. She lacks any capacity to go beyond her function.

I therefore try to get students to think of their characters as people to whom the story happens, with lives “outside the story.” This may involve writing scenes you ultimately discard, it may mean developing story threads for the character you end up never using, but your expanded knowledge of that character will provide additional life, greater depth, and broader range of possibility than she might otherwise possess.

There are a lot of ways to go about this – so many they take up several chapters of the book. But they largely deal with envisioning incidents in the character’s past that involve extreme vulnerability or helplessness, emotional trauma, or surrender to happiness: moments of profound shame, guilt, pain, love, joy, pride. If not that, they reveal the particular nature of her connection to other people — her bonds of family, friendship, work, community, how and why she dresses the way she does, where she considers home, who she considers her “tribe.”

So, Goodreaders: What do you think? If you write, do your characters emerge from your story idea, or does your story idea emerge from the character? If you’re an avid reader, what is it about a character that renders her memorable — better yet, unforgettable?

As a reader who is an aspiring writer I am excited to see some writers feedback here so I can learn the best ways to develop my own characters. I know when I read a book I like to be able to imagine the character as a real live person (honestly who doesn't, lol) I like to be able to imagine his/her life before the story line began and imagine what it would be like after. They are memorable to me when I feel I can say "I wonder how so and so would handle this particular life situation?" and feel connected enough to the character to imagine just how they would handle it.
When I read books where I feel the main character only really exists in the context of the plot I call them two-dimensional, they have no depth, nothing to emotionally draw them to me. I never though of using the word puppet but it pretty accurately describes it.
Recently I read a book where the main character had a daughter and she would speak of her from time to time or mention her in her inner monologue but the book never once contained any scene where they interacted in any kind of mother-daughter way, nor did she ever even once reminisce about any fond memory. It was like the main character had just put her entire previous life on a shelf somewhere to be continued. I kept forgetting she had a kid, it was weird. Then by the end of the book I had her pegged as some kind of cold robot, when the author tried to give her emotional range, I just couldn't buy it.

Hi, Terri. Thanks for checking in. Your book is on the way!

I think more than anything a character comes alive through what Robert Olen Butler calls yearning -- a deep-seated, inescapable desire for fulfillment, meaning, purpose. Each character conceives that yearning in her own unique way, but the fact she has it creates all the other crucial elements of her personality: her vulnerability (because to know what you want means you also recognize you could lose it), contradiction (because the likelihood of loss or denial of the thing we want forces us to hedge our bets, put our efforts into secondary ambitions, and these tear at us and push us in opposing directions), secrets (because we so often hide from ourselves the thing we want, for fear of accepting we may never have it, or because we're afraid that, if our secrets are exposed, we'll be shamed and isolated, and our dreams can then never come true).

Yearning isn't defined merely by what the character wants in the story -- reconcile with the parent, catch the criminal, climb the mountain. It's the deeper, underlying reason that those outer ambitions are important. Failing at them awakens the character to what she truly wants, and the stakes are defined by the possibility of losing it forever.

That all-emcompassing yearning is what allows the character to feel bigger than the story, for his whole life is defined, perhaps unconsciously, by the need to fulfill it.

David

I wonder how many people feel like plot puppets every day. Wow. That's a sad thought.

I prefer character-driven stories.

Kimberly:

Ha! Well said. But you unwittingly bring up a crucial point. Plot puppets, like many of us in our daily lives, seem like the victims of circumstances. Even a plot puppet villain, who seems to have the widest range of action, often feels robotic, in that he can't help but do the evil things he does. That's what gives the air of puppetry. Everyone's behavior is at the whim of the story (and ultimately, the writer).

I'm not sure any genuinely meaningful story isn't "character-driven." Robert McKee goes into this in STORY. He says the whole division between character and plot only applies to bad writing.

I tend to agree.

David--love your use of the word yearning---which fits perfectly in this case. Characters are faced with both external (story) conflicts and internal (personal) conflicts and these play off each other throughout the story. Or should. Yearning is the perfect word for that internal conflict. It's more visceral than is want or even need. They yearn to be healed, be whole, be accepted, be whatever. The story conflict applies pressure that brings the personal conflict to the front burner in a way that it must be examined and dealt with.

DP Lyle

DP:

Nice to see you hear good sir.

Thanks. I wish I could take credit for the term. I owe Robert Olen Butler. But yeah, once I heard him talk about it, once I read him discuss it further in FROM WHERE YOU DREAM, a light went on, for all the reasons you mention.

David

Kimberly:

Here's an interesting take on plotting that also expresses some consternation on what constitutes "character-driven" structure -- as in, how can there be any other kind?

http://janefriedman.com/2013/03/04/th...

David

Out of curiosity, from reading one's own writing, how can you tell if your character is a puppet or independent? I think I can write boy characters well, and I feel better with them, but my girl characters aren't as good and tend to suffer :( yet I'm a girl...

We can't always be the best judge of our own prose. That's the good news and the bad news. We need readers, and writers in particular need readers they can trust to give them sound, reliable, useful feedback.

Often you can't tell is a character is flat because you feel the character in a way the reader doesn't. The problem there isn't lack of development but poor execution.

But if you're having trouble conceiving the character with genuine depth, then you need to find ways to deepend your understanding of that character. I discuss a lot of ways to go about that in the book, but the five key areas to explore are: desire, how the character behaves when her desires are frustrated, secrets, contradictions, and vulnerability. I consider those five elements the touchstones of any truly compelling characterization. Not all characters have to have all five, but desire and vulnerability are truly, inescapably essential -- and sometimes related. Wanting something makes us vulnerable, because we realize it can be denied.

David

I have considered corresponding with my characters to "deepen my understanding" of them. Do you think that could be a fruitful method?

I don't have friends or relatives that are big on reading, and I'm honestly scared of joining a writing circle group because I'm very sensitive to criticism and they might critique it in a way I won't like. I also have been told that I'm very harsh when it comes to critiquing to their work. And each time something of mine gets to be criticized I have a strange compulsion to write a new type story from scratch instead of fixing up errors.

David wrote: "Kimberly:

Here's an interesting take on plotting that also expresses some consternation on what constitutes "character-driven" structure -- as in, how can there be any other kind?

http://janefrie..."

reading ... :)

Kimberly:

I think corresponding with your character could be worthwhile, but not nearly as worthwhile as her corresponding with you. I'm not being glib. I know authors who create journals for their characters, to better understand their voices, their inner life.

Personally, I need to see my character in action, struggling after something she wants, failing at it, interacting with others.

That said, voice is crucial, and it exhibits itself most vividly in attitude.

Aurora:

It sounds like your writing group experience is less than optimal. But the road to publication passes through criticism. No matter how polished you consider your work, at every stage -- agent submission, publisher submission, content editing, copy editing -- you have to work with an informed reader who wants changes, and you have to consider them mindfully, with the objective of improving what's on the page. And you have to accept the humbling fact that almost everything can benefit from another look. Eudora Welty said, "Writing is rewriting." Hemingway said, "There is no great writing, just great rewriting."

David wrote: "Kimberly:

I think corresponding with your character could be worthwhile, but not nearly as worthwhile as her corresponding with you. I'm not being glib. I know authors who create journals for thei..."

Hmm. I really did mean an exchange of letters. I guess I wasn't clear on that. :/

Anyway, you mention, "you need to find ways to deepen your understanding of that character. I discuss a lot of ways to go about that in the book" - such a teaser - but would you toss us one or two?

Well, returning to two things I've already said, one in the first posting that opened this thread, the other in the one you just quoted:

There are a lot of ways to go about this – so many they take up several chapters of the book. But they largely deal with envisioning incidents in the character’s past that involve extreme vulnerability or helplessness, emotional trauma, or surrender to happiness: moments of profound shame, guilt, pain, love, joy, pride. If not that, they reveal the particular nature of her connection to other people — her bonds of family, friendship, work, community, how and why she dresses the way she does, where she considers home, who she considers her “tribe.”

And:

The five key areas to explore are: desire, how the character behaves when her desires are frustrated, secrets, contradictions, and vulnerability. I consider those five elements the touchstones of any truly compelling characterization. Not all characters have to have all five, but desire and vulnerability are truly, inescapably essential -- and sometimes related. Wanting something makes us vulnerable, because we realize it can be denied.

So: envision and sketch out moments of profound emotional impact that create a sense of helplessness, so much so the usual ego defenses are undermined, revealing a deeper level of character. And focus particularly on yearning (also mentioned above) -- both the surface desire of the story and the deeper need or want motivating that desire, how the character responds to frustration of her desires (and thus conflict, danger, criticism, betrayal), secrets, contradictions, and vulnerability.

By contradictions I mean those elements of behavior that surprise or baffle us, given what else we know or observe of the character. Every time there's a mass killing or a scandal, there's always a headline: Friends, Family, and Neighbors Struggle to Find Answers. This capacity to be both one thing and yet also the opposite is one of the most intriguing elements of character. If your character seems gentle or kind, picture her in the throes of helpless rage. How did she get there? Why didn't she get there sooner?

Wow! I definitely need to read your book (seriously).

Same here...

I could handle that.

When you say 'I could handle that," do you mean you can understand mine and Kimberly's desire to read your book or do you mean something else?

Definitely our desire to read his book. Definitely.

Oh...kind of hoped for another meaning hehe, ah well.

I mean I could handle your buying my book. This isn't that kind of forum...

He says sadly.

Oh. sorry

Oh, please don't apologize.

(without a word she backs quietly out of the room)