Lost in my Character's Head

It always bugs me when I hear writers talk about characters roaming around in their heads. Some even go as far as to say that they see their characters in the shadows, or around a street corner, or in a Walmart or Home Depot. And they can hear them also, Sybil with all her personalities available at the braingertips.

If they listen close enough, the character actually tells them what to write.

Secretly, I’ve envied these people. Not so secretly, I’ve make fun of them. But the truth is, I’ve always wondered if I was missing something. How can I truly write good, authentic, 2,4,6, or 18-dimensional characters without having my entire body taken over by them?

Recently, I think I found the answer. Beside the fact that most of these people are lying, I think the ones who are telling the truth have latched onto something.

I think it’s all just a matter of semantics.

I’m not the type to wax on about writing—I don’t go all touchy feely about my process. I just try. And if things are working well, one thing leads to another and it builds. I push forward, coming up with new, and hopefully, unique things to say. But I have to give myself room to write absolute junk. Well, maybe not absolute junk. The key is to think I’m writing something valuable, or else I’ll lose motivation. Then later, I can come back and rip it all apart.

This is where I find myself now, trying to remember how it is I began to write a book. Because now, I’m trying to do it again.

So many months, okay years, revising that first book and now I have to (get to!) start over. I should have some sort of blueprint, a reward for completion of the first. But it doesn’t work that way. I have to think and think hard. I have to make mistakes and go in the wrong direction and keep making mistakes and keep going in the wrong direction until I finally find the right direction.

And THEN, I have to write the thing—just get it done from one end to the other, while reminding myself that I’m not yet at the revision stage. My job is to start something new here—a first draft— and this requires a different, forgiving, mind set.

But back to the point. After the dust has cleared and I’ve settled on point of view, tense, structure—after LOTS of failed attempts which aren’t really failed attempts because they get me where I’m going— if I let myself, I can brainstorm about my character’s mindset. I’m doing this now (well, I was doing it just a few minutes ago) and in this way, I am seeing and hearing my characters.

I stumbled upon this secret with my first book. But I quickly forgot it, never really taking note of what I was doing. I was desperate to make my book better and write it well which lead me to this solution. Now I can see that this is part of my process. By writing this post I’m hoping I can commit it to memory. I have a tendency to forget these things.

So, I have a character. I’ve done some initial thinking about her. I might have even completed a dossier (like the excellent one in DYNAMIC CHARACTERS by Nancy Kress)—and this proves very helpful. By answering questions about my character, I’ve gotten to know her. This leads to thought: it generates ideas about the mental state of my character, and potential situations/plot that might help to illuminate her traits, weaknesses, faults—and of course, this should all involve some sort of conflict or give rise to it.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Right?

Not really. It’s certainly not easy. But, I do try to keep these things in mind, or at least, try not to forget them. I try to think about my character’s motivation, the conflict, external and internal struggles, and possible situations to increase the conflict while moving the story forward.

Something HAS to happen. This is plot. Plot is tough for me because I have a tendency to go all psychological and get lost in my character’s head.

Wait a minute…did I just say I get lost in my character’s head?

Liz

The Blog Entry of a Tramp

It’s September and time to give this blog a poke in the ribs. It seems appropriate to post an entry about not writing, something I have done a lot of lately. I could be like the Barbara Stanwyck character in Ball of Fire when she gives Gary Cooper her list of excuses for screwing him over—it’s a blank sheet of paper. And he says, “The handwriting of a, well, what would be your word for it?” And she says “Tramp” but not until after he leaves so he doesn’t see how much she wants to be a better person for him. I digress, but hey, there’s one of my excuses for not writing. Turner Classic Movies. My word for it? Lazy.

Oh sure, I have the other usual excuses. Work. Moving. Family stuff. And it seems like every time I did sit down to write this summer, I drew “quite a tidy blank” (like Katharine Hepburn in Philadelphia Story).

What happens is, when I have an idea for a story and sit down to write it, I think of another story I need to polish. I open that one up and then start to panic because I really should be sending out query letters for my completed novel. But maybe I should wait until I get a few of these stories finished up. Except the novel is a bird in the hand. It’s done. But writing query letters is so intimidating! Okay, so I’ll just finish up this story and call it a day. Except while I dithered, the day went by. Time for dinner, time for bed, time for some other distraction.

See? I’m not blocked so much as dazzled by all the possibilities. As well as lazy. But Barbara’s character (Sugarpuss O’Shea) knew there were no excuses. If she could work through her insecurities (she was an uneducated stripper) I can get through mine (what if this sucks). Push past the comfort zone (Sugarpuss: gangster boyfriend played by Dana Andrews. Me: Turner Classic Movies). When you finally get that story started or those queries written—well, it’s no Gary Cooper, but an excellent reward just the same.