Every Character Should Be a Mystery 12/31/2010
By Jeffrey Getzin, author of “Prince of Bryanae” You ever meet someone at a party who can’t stop talking about himself, about every detail of his life? How much did you enjoy it? About as fun a root canal? Nothing makes a character grate on your nerves faster than an information dump. Now think about your favorite characters, either from real life or fiction. What made them such great characters? There were probably a number of attractive traits, but I’ll wager that one trait they all had in common was that we didn’t know everything there was to know about them: they each had some sense of mystery to them and that mystery makes us want to know more, to find out who this person is and why he is doing what he is doing. Full disclosure pushes us away, but mysteries draw us in. A pair of personal examples. I’ve written two novels. My first novel, “King of Bryanae”, was an example of how not to write a compelling character. I explained everything there was to know about my protagonist in the first chapter, and as a result, she was a crashing bore. There were some interesting supporting cast members, but the protagonist, oh man, she made a pet rock look exciting by comparison. Disappointed with my first novel, I tried a completely different approach in my second, “Prince of Bryanae”. My main character is an elven female soldier named Willow. Willow is sort of a fantasy “Terminator”: she’s humorless, driven, and unyielding. She’s a Cuisinart with pointy ears. Yet when the novel begins, she has recently humiliated herself by freezing in combat: something completely uncharacteristic of her. Why on earth would such a deadly woman freeze when she presumably was in her element? It has something to do with her childhood and who these particular enemies were. But what? Well, that’s the mystery I started with. Instead of starting with the answer, spilling everything at the beginning --- “When Willow was a little girl, you see, a bad thing happened and …” --- I started with the question: just what the hell is wrong with her, and why? The results were extremely gratifying. Friends who were reading the first draft as I was writing it would hound me incessantly for the next piece. Instead of being bored by my character (like in my first book), they couldn’t get enough! Hell, it drove them crazy the way I hinted at the past and only doled out a dollop of backstory at a time, usually in dialog. My readers found it tantalizing, and I couldn’t write the chapters fast enough to suit their demands! It also gave the story a multi-dimensional arc: not only was there the story arc of the main plot, but there was the implicit secondary arc of finding out what exactly happened to Willow to make her what she is today. That question, raised in the very first chapter, becomes the tonic note for the concerto, and the answer is the resolution tone that brings things to a satisfactory conclusion. I’m not saying that every character you write should be Clint Eastwood’s Man With No Name, but the next time you create a character, try holding just a little bit in reserve: a secret untold or an action unexplained. Make your readers want to know more, want to turn that next page to find out what exactly is going on here. Having tried this once to great success, you can be assured that I’ll be doing this from now on. Add Comment A Time for Reflectioni 12/22/2010
This past week has been so busy! I finished re-writing/editing A Shadow of Time and have one more read-through before I send it back to my editor. Her suggestions were awesome and I incorporated most if not all of them. I tend to be very 'wordy'. I love descriptions and want my readers to feel they are in the book with me. Sometimes, this slows down the action in the story. I also finished up my Christmas shopping and am looking forward to seeing the family this weekend. We're staying with my mother-in-law while the kids are joining forces at my youngest son's house. It should be quite a weekend--filled with political arguments, present openings, and kids underneath our feet. Reflecting back, I remember my first Christmas play in grammar school. We sang carol's, acted out the nativity, and of course, the ever popular, Frosty the Snowman. We ate gingerbread men, Christmas cookies, cider, and eggnog. One of my kids dressed up as a Christmas tree. I think it was my daughter, but sometimes my memory fails me. My kids grew up and I attended their Christmas parties and plays. It added something special to the Christmas season and still warms the heart with wonderful memories. Now that my grandchildren are in school there aren't any Christmas plays nor is their a nativity scene in front of the same grammar school I attended. They have holiday parties and are careful not to say the word Christmas in school. Why just yesterday a couple of nice teenage kids were kicked out of school for handing out candy canes. Why is it OK to have Ramadan at the White House, but not Christmas? Christmas speaks of peace on earth and good will toward men. All men. No matter their religion. I love Christmas lights and adore Christmas music. It makes me feel good and gives me hope. I want my grandchildren to share in the memories I have. Each year my husband rises and gets the lights on the house. We decorate the tree and buy presents for those we love. We go to church and remember the man who gave his life for us. But most of all, we remember to love. Merry Christmas everyone! How Much is Too Much? 12/11/2010
Last night we decorated our Christmas tree with our grandkids. It's the first time in ten years, we had little ones to help us. I went to Rite-Aid and bought shatter proof ornaments for our three year old so I didn't have to worry about broken glass on hardwood floors. We made chocolate chip cookies then sat around and watched Christmas cartoons. It was a wonderful night. I had forgotten how grandkids can make an ordinary day into an extra ordinary day. I have spent the last three weeks pondering how important money is to our lives. If the jingle of coins and the rustle of paper bills gives you joy, you are missing out on the most important things in life. I should add the feel of plastic too. As long as we have hands to clasp we are rich. However, bodily needs must be met first. If you or those you love are hungry, nothing matters but finding food. If you are cold, you will hunt for shelter. Only when all of your physical needs are met will you find comfort because we are, after all, only human. Beyond that lies the conundrum. How much is enough? It is too much if you lose family and friends. It is too much when it takes the place of faith in your life. Fortunately, I have never had too much which is probably a good thing. I Really Need to Dye My Hair 12/06/2010
I've been procrastinating. My edits on A Shadow of Time are going slowly. Granted, I haven't felt well, but I could be doing more. For some reason when I pull up the manuscript my stomach drops, I break into a cold sweat, and I want to throw up. Of course, this could be due to the new medication they have me on. I also need to dye my hair. The roots are gray, the ends blonde, and the hair in-between has turned a shade of yellow that does not look good in fluorescent lighting. Thank heavens my dogs love me. Today I crossed the halfway mark on Shadow which should be cause for celebration. Unfortunately, I can't drink anything but water. No alcohol allowed and soda makes me sick. Eh, I've lost my motivation. Then again, I remind myself that I have written three books in less than 18 months and am halfway through the 2nd book of Gemini. That's not too bad. My husband told me a joke: This guy was hanging onto a ledge that lead to a 1000 foot drop into a rushing river. The man screams, "Is there anybody up there that can help me?" God shouts back, "Have faith. Let go and trust in me." After a few minutes of silence the man screams, "Is there anybody else up there who can help me?" For some reason that joke just cracked me up. Tomorrow I'm moving through the 3/4 mark on Shadow and when I'm done I'll breathe a sigh of relief and tackle the next challenge. I'll keep hanging onto the ledge for now, until I have the guts to let go. |
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