writing the heart of your story (8 page)

I want to talk a little about the introduction of your protagonist, since that is on the First-Page Checklist, and I only touched on character in the first part of this book. The opening of your book presents a crucial moment that gives a first glimpse or impression of your main character. You know what they say about first impressions—they tend to stick with you and are hard to erase. If someone rubs you the wrong way when you meet them, it’s sometimes hard to get past that initial feeling. It almost feels a bit embedded in concrete.

So it is with your characters as they walk upon the stage of your novel. If you’re at a party and you meet someone dull and completely unappealing, you’re not likely to pay much attention to them from that point on. The same is true with your characters. You don’t want them to come across boring. Of course, if you need a character to be a bore, make them an interesting one. The point is to always make your characters a bit larger than life.

Perhaps you’re thinking you want your protagonist to be an average “everyman” type of guy—that way the reader will be able to relate to him, right? Wrong. Who wants to read about uninteresting, average people? No one. Sure, we want to be able to relate in some ways to your protagonist, but we are reading to be engaged, entertained, enthralled. And a boring, flat character is not going to incite those feelings in us.

So, how do you create a sympathetic, intriguing character that is not a raving lunatic and be able to get the reader to care about her on the first page? It takes some planning and thinking ahead to pull this off. And believe me, a lot of readers are going to lose interest by page three if you haven’t given them a good reason to care. That’s why we put our protagonists in a present-action situation that allows us to reveal a bit about the heart of our character. As discussed in earlier chapters, we have to point to the visible goal of the character right away, but we also need to see her heart.

Create an Immediate Bond

Donald Maass, in his great book The Fire in Fiction, says that to “create an immediate bond between reader and protagonist, it is necessary to show your reader a reason to care.” And to do that, he says we have to show a “glimpse of greatness.”

Just what does that mean? Our protagonist may not be all that great; in fact, he may be a real loser. Again—would we want to keep reading about a loser? We might . . . if we see he has a glimpse of greatness. All this means is that you show a piece of this character that is heroic—which can be translated into many things, like noble, virtuous, passionate about something significant, humanitarian, self-sacrificing, or some other attractive quality that pulls us toward him.

And this doesn’t mean you have to open with a scene where the loser jumps overboard and saves a drowning child in a huge storm at sea. That might come later, near the climax of your novel. What it does mean is that somewhere in that first scene, and preferably in the first page or two, you will want to show (not tell) your character doing and/or saying something that makes us think he’s got something redeeming and special about him.

Greatness

Greatness doesn’t mean a person is great. You can have a sympathetic, dark, brooding character—a negative protagonist—that’s going to change and become an amazing person at the end of the book. But you can’t expect your readers to trust that you’ll get him there if you don’t give a glimpse of his potential at the outset. If you have a dark protagonist, show that they’re not happy being this way, that they want to change.

Here’s an insightful thing to remember: A great character is not shown by who they are but by the impact they have on others. So think impact. What can you have your character be doing as the book opens that will allow the reader to see that your protagonist might have the potential to affect change (on others)? Maass says, “Great people do not leave the world unchanged.”

Think about
. . . some great characters you love. You can surely think of great characters in literature and current novels that have really worked their way into your heart. If you have any of those books on hand (or you can usually preview a portion online at Amazon.com), read the first page or two and note the place(s) where the author was able to convey this greatness in her protagonist. If you go through and study many well-written novels, you will start getting an idea of how to subtly and simply show a glimpse of greatness. And that is exactly what you need to get your reader to care.

Chapter 10: The Essence and Persona of Character

“Heart is what drives us and determines our fate.

That is what I need for my characters in my books: a passionate heart.”

~author Isabel Allende

While we’re going deep into character, and most importantly, your protagonist, I want to add in some insights and prod your thinking about the aspects of your character’s personality. Writing instructor and screenwriter Michael Hague enriches the traditional three-act structure (his is a six-act structure) by overlaying the progressive journey of the protagonist. I found his take quite eye-opening, for although I understood the concept of a character portraying himself to the world one way while underneath he’s really a different person at heart, I never thought about the process of revealing this “inner man” until I took a workshop from him.

Persona vs. Essence

All of us are flawed. Over the years, since childhood, we have developed a “face” we present to the world. Often that face is formed by hurts we’ve suffered early on. We start out all innocent and sweet, and then after a few of life’s hard knocks, we hide behind a persona that feels safe. A true hero’s journey will show the process of the hero moving from his persona to his true essence by the end of the story. And this is a great model for novelists.

Almost all great stories show the protagonist at the start of the book in his normal world. This is the place in which he functions, interacts with others, and makes his way through life. And this has him “showing his persona” to the world as well—the person he wants others to think he is.

But if you’re telling a rich story, there’s going to be something wrong with this picture. Even if this character seems happy, we can tell he’s really not. There is something missing in his life—and that’s because he’s not really being his true self—the person he really wants to be and is deep inside.

This feature of your character doesn’t have to do with his visible goal established early on in the book. Oh, they are interconnected, of course, and the goal should be a vehicle for helping your character “find himself.” But although he may believe this, his reaching his visible goal isn’t the real thing that will make him truly happy. Every person who is not living in his or her “true essence” is going to be unhappy (even if they think they’re happy) until they come into their essence—who they really are.

So, your character should reveal this in the first chapter somewhere. Not that they’re miserable and glum. You can have a really happy character step onto the stage. What I’m talking about here is showing some aspect of the character’s persona (the face he presents to the world) that is not really him, not how he truly feels, and is the source of some dissatisfaction in his life because, well, he’s being phony in at least some way.

Who Really Is My Hero?

Here’s a question you can ask: “Who would my hero be if he could really find the courage to [or was forced to] strip away his outward personality and reveal his true self?” A great story hints at the start of the novel that the protagonist has the potential to be something else, something better, something more true. Notice I say “hints” and “potential.” You don’t have to hit the reader over the head with a psychosis that is making your character plum crazy. We all, for the most part, live day in and day out with our “minor” neuroses due to the way we were raised or the tough knocks we’ve had to endure in life. Sometimes we will go through life fairly functional without ever noticing how screwed up we are or having the urge to change (I’ll be the first to put up my hand).

But readers don’t want to read about those kinds of people. They want to see a character change, grow, learn, make life-altering decisions. What they really want is to see your character move from her persona to her essence by the end of the book. Really. So think about who your hero or heroine would really be if they could truly be the person they really want to be.

This ties in with the last chapter’s section on showing a glimpse of greatness. Readers love to see something redeemable in humanity. Even with the darkest of antagonists, there’s nothing richer and more engaging than seeing a human, authentic side. Think Darth Vader. So, the journey of your hero from start to finish in the story would be one of him starting fully in his persona and ending in a place where he embraces and lives fully in his true essence.

Shrek Is Really Not Who He Thinks He Is

Hague uses Shrek as the perfect example of this journey. Shrek presents himself to the world as a mean ogre. That’s how he survives. He denies his softer side because it has not served him well in the past, and he believes it’s a weakness. But by the end of the movie, after he’s been having to face his essence and battle with embracing it, he finally breaks through to becoming his true self—a really goodhearted, loving ogre with honor and a kind heart.

Stories with characters who grow in this manner really move us. And since we’re talking about the heart of the story, you may want to consider this overarching process for your protagonist. If you do, you need to set up in that first scene a glimpse not only of his persona and the face he presents in his normal present world but that glimpse of greatness and true essence—which he might not even see or acknowledge at all. But the reader needs to see it.

Think about
. . . novels and movies you’ve seen in which the protagonist at the beginning is in his or her persona and not thriving, but then by the end of the movie has changed. There are hundreds of them out there, and that’s because this is a structure that resonates with us and one we love. Some I can think of right away are
The Firm
,
You’ve Got Mail
, (well, just about any chick flick!),
Liar, Liar
, and Dickens’s
A Christmas Carol
.

Chapter 11: Creating Not Good but Great Characters

“I imagine that my characters have become much more complicated than when I first began, which would be normal.”

~Irwin Shaw

In this book, I don’t want to get into the nuts and bolts of developing characters. There are plenty of online websites and blogs that have lessons in coming up with characters and how to make them seem real and not like wood posts. What I do want to explore, though, is a deeper and more personal approach to developing the characters in your novel.

I’ve heard various authors speak and teach on how to come up with characters for your novel. Some flip through magazines and cut out pictures, then paste them onto a sheet of paper and write up a bio. Others use tools such as the Myers-Briggs personality chart to create character profiles. Some think of actors they like and just plug them in as characters in their novel. My feeling is if that works for you, then great. There isn’t one surefire way to create a great character. But I’d like to share some thoughts I have on the topic, now that I’ve written more than a dozen novels and they’re all “character-driven.”

Write What You Know

I believe that if we tap into the things we love and hate about characters and their traits, we’re really telling a lot about ourselves. Some interviewers at times ask me if I “put myself” into my novels. There’s a reason that’s a common question—we write about what we know. And for the most part, we know ourselves. We know what we like about people and what we don’t like. And most psychologists will tell you that those are the very things we like and dislike about ourselves.

I would say “Author, know thyself.” When we get honest with ourselves about our shortcomings as well as good qualities, we find a rich mix of character within us. People are complex and sometimes contradictory. I am full of surprises—to myself at times (and often to my disappointment). Writers sometimes feel they must create a character that is wholly predictable and consistent, but we’re not really like that.

Real People are Complex and Contradictory

People change all the time. Maybe not their core beliefs, but their opinions and attitudes may waver from moment to moment based on the mood, who’s influencing them at the time, whether they skipped lunch, or missed their daily dose of coffee. One day I may think cats are awful and the next day, after meeting Rex with the best purr and sweetest demeanor, I’ve become a cat lover.

I know I’m a picky editor and reader. It takes a lot for you to get me to love your characters. It takes a lot for you to get me to believe they’re real, three-dimensional, deep, complex. That’s what I yearn for when I read a novel—great characters. It’s as if I thirst for them, and if the pages flip by and I’m not engaged by the characters (even if the plot is fantastic), I tend to give up. I often give up reading a novel by page two. I’ve done it a lot, and it’s almost always after reading the first few paragraphs in the character’s POV and finding they are flat, stereotypic, boring, predictable, and often just plain unlikeable.