Creating Characters (16 page)

In the end, regardless of its nature, what will the character do if the injustice seems inevitable?

Whose jealousy is it that the character has come to fear? Has the character had some previous experience with this poisonous emotion, so that the possibility of a reoccurrence now fills him with dread? Does he fear the jealousy will come from one person or several? What will the character do to prevent someone from feeling jealous toward him? And if the jealousy does in fact reappear and threaten the character's well-being, what will he do to cool its passion? What options does he have at his disposal, and what has he used before?

Setting aside the possibility of autophobia, which is the unnatural fear of being alone, the fear of loneliness referred to here is really quite commonplace and can take on many forms. It is that empty spot that craves companionship, that corner in the soul that needs some light. It is the thing that gives birth to singles bars and matchmakers, the thing that moans when a good friend leaves; it is that hole we all try to fill.

In what way, then, does your character fear loneliness? What bond is he afraid will be broken? Is a good friend near death? Has a spouse departed? Have the children grown up and moved away? Is he afraid there will be no one with whom to share his life, to talk about nothing in particular, to simply sit and feel the warmth that comes with liking and loving? Is there no human rock to lean upon?

Has he grown old, perhaps? Are the memories not enough? Fearing loneliness as he does, what will the character do when it seems forthcoming or when, in fact, it arrives?

Why would the character be afraid of marriage? Is it because he has been married before and it turned out to be a dismal experience? Did he find it too confining? Too demanding of his time? Too much of one thing and not enough of another?

Or does he, perhaps, guard his independence relentlessly and fear that marriage will destroy it? Has he seen, with dismay, what has happened to his friends after they tied the knot? Did his parents argue all the time or not talk for long periods? And has that experience soured him on marriage?

Has he seen what divorces do to people, and is he afraid his marriage will end the same way? And so what will he do if his loved one wants a wedding?

What steps will he take to prevent it?

If the character fears an omen, does he have a tendency to fear them all? Or is there just one that fills him with dread? In either case, does this fear mean that he is superstitious? Is he always looking for signs of the future?

Does the character try to tell others about what he sees? If so, what do they say when they hear his concerns? Are the omens he fears of ancient vintage? Just where, in fact, has he learned them, and why does he tend to accept them unequivocally?

If an omen occurs within the story, how will it be delivered? Will someone speak it, such as the soothsayer did in
Julius Caesar
("Beware the Ides of March"), or will it be observed within the hand of nature (the possibilities of which are numerous)?

If the character fears poverty, is it because he once experienced it and never wants to live through it again? Does this fear cause him to be stingy with the wealth he has obtained? Does it make him want more than he could ever possibly use?

But does the character live modestly among others and have no great material possessions? If so, is the poverty he fears more terrible than any he has so far experienced? Is he, for example, the poor dirt farmer who watches his farm being sold at auction? Is he the person who, without any insurance and perhaps no job, watches the flood waters draw closer to his house?

What recourse does the character have if his fears draw closer to reality?

What has the character done, and to whom has he done it, that he has come to fear some degree of punishment? Has he committed a crime? Engaged in a mortal sin? Broken a promise, perhaps? Is he afraid he will somehow be punished for his display of cowardice, or his weakness of the flesh, or the lies he blatantly told? Whose wrath makes him writhe: that of God, or someone human? And what does he think will be the extent of the retaliation? Does he fear tit-for-tat or something much worse?

Does he fear punishment that is physical in nature, or is more psychological, perhaps ostracism? Does he fear losing what he can never regain?

Will someone in the story come to his defense? On the other hand, who will not?

From which direction has the character come to fear rejection, and why does he place so much importance on the opinion of that person or group? Does he lack self-confidence, and would disapproval shatter his already badly broken ego? Has he suffered rejection in the past, thus establishing in his mind the likelihood that it will happen again? Was he, for example, rejected by his mother, father, or someone else he loved? A group he wanted to join? An employer? Has he ever been fired or expelled? Has he or his family been refused admittance to a certain neighborhood? And why—because of his skin color? His religion? His background?

Or is the character's fear of rejection focused in another direction? For instance, is he afraid that if he issues orders they won't be followed? That if he tells someone to do something, he will hear laughter or snickers?

What will he do to prevent rejection? And what will he do if it happens anyway?

What does the character fear will be restored? For him, what will the restoration bring to an end or threaten? Perhaps he is afraid his parents, who have been separated, are reconciling, and he doesn't want what he experienced before. Or maybe he fears that his country is reestablishing a system of government that didn't work the first time and he is sure will not work again. Or could it be that his spouse is reverting to the kinds of habits that threatened the family last time?

What pain may accompany the restoration if it comes? What can the character do to prevent it from taking place? What is he unable to do?

From whom is the character fearful of being separated? (Note: The key words are "fearful of being," not "doesn't want to be"). And why would the separation make him afraid? What does he stand to lose by not being with that person? Does he desperately need someone's presence nearby?

Or from
what
is the character fearful of being separated? A job that he dearly loves? A way of life with which he feels quite comfortable? Is he afraid of leaving something he has found, because he is convinced it will not be there when he returns?

What are his options to prevent such a separation?

We are all so attuned to reaching whatever lies just beyond our outstretched hands that it may be hard to imagine a character who fears success. Such a fear is nevertheless quite possible. For example, someone who has grown accustomed to living a rather uneventful life, and who in fact rather enjoys his lackluster daily routine, may suddenly become quite fearful if for some reason he is faced with unusual success. It could upset his status quo, and the liabilities that attend his success could truly frighten him.

Imagine, if you will, a downtrodden character who wins the lottery. Having survived his own rush of excitement, he begins to see that his life will never be the same again. His in-laws want money; his neighbors beg for loans; his kids want new cars; strangers with confusing investment schemes are knocking on his door and calling him on the phone; and his wife has seemingly gone half crazy and is too busy to put food on the table for him. The only thing that has remained constant is his dog, which he pets as he vacantly stares into the unknown. His fear of monetary success is real.

Or how about this? The character has a good idea—the likes of which he will never come close to having again—and he is suddenly promoted by his employer. Might he become fearful that everyone will find out he's not nearly as smart, or as imaginative, or as clever, or as farsighted as they think he is? His unexpected career success might immobilize him.

What is the character afraid will be stolen from him? Is it something that can be easily seen, or is it hidden? Is it worth a lot of money, or its value exclusively sentimental? And who does he suspect might try to steal it from him? Has anyone ever tried to steal it before? If so, why did the attempt fail?

What can the character do to ensure its safekeeping? Could he put it in the hands of someone he trusts? Is there a place where he can hide it? What will happen if the theft takes place?

Why would the character be fearful of the truth? What is it that he doesn't want to know? Is it something he suspects, but does not want to accept? Would that truth dismantle everything he has always believed? Why does he prefer the fiction over the fact? Does the truth threaten to lead him to a place where he does not want to go? Will it, in the end, upset his world? Alter his affections? Make him walk into a light that he has tried to avoid?

How will a new revelation affect those whom he knows? Would their knowing make things quite difficult? Does he fear the results that the truth would bring?

What will he do to evade the truth? And what will happen if he cannot?

The person who fears violence should not be confused with one who fears harm. The fear in this case results from the character's observation of a developing trend, one in which the tentacles of violence appear long before the whole monster becomes apparent, and that view will make him shudder with concern—not for himself but for others.

For example, such a person might have lived in Nazi Germany and seen the cruelty emerging. Such a person would certainly be shaken by present-day incidents of terrorism.

The fictional character who is fearful of violence will see things on a broader scale. The question is, what will he do to help the intended victims? What will he do to stop the offender?

Phobias are irrational fears. Sometimes they are inexplicable. A writer who instills a character with a phobia generally has three choices: (1) use it to merely heighten the dramatic impact of an upcoming scene and add spice to the plot; (2) carefully and gently weave it into the character's overall psychology throughout the story and make it one of the key factors that increasingly causes him to avoid what he sees as potentially hazardous situations;

(3) both of the foregoing.

Take the first option. Early in the movie
Raiders of the Lost Ark,
the audience learns that the hero has an inordinate fear of snakes. Planting this phobia in the mind of the audience is important, because later in the story the character suddenly finds himself hanging precariously over a pit that is teeming with all kinds of snakes. At the sight of the snakes, viewers audibly gasp, and their empathy for the main character is decidedly swift. Mind you, snakes are scary anyway, but the character's phobia intensifies the scene. Receiving the information about the character's phobia early in the story made the scene much more exciting to watch.

The second option raises the stakes considerably. When a character is provided with a phobia that affects his everyday behavior, it requires a deft touch and considerable patience on the part of the writer. It is not sufficient to lightly implant the notion of a phobia in the mind of the reading or viewing audience and hope it will be remembered when the time comes. The writer must keep nailing the concept home—but carefully. The skillful writer will usually do this by establishing the character's mental aversion very early in the story and then putting obstacles in his path that will help bring that phobia front and center, not just once but several times.

Sometimes it is important to relate the incident that originally instilled the phobia. Indeed, the reader or viewer may not take the phobia seriously if that phobia's starting point is not clear (the character can talk about it; it doesn't always have to be shown). The foundation of that phobia could prove crucially important not only to character development but also to plot development.

Imagine that you are writing a story in which one of your main characters has claustrophobia. It began with an experience in childhood, and that fear of closed-in spaces has only gotten worse over the years. He must live in a place with lots of windows; he cannot bear small rooms (he is terrified of closets and basements); and he has gotten to the point where he can hardly ride in an automobile. How does this behavior affect his family? His friends? What steps does he take each day to prevent confronting his fears? In the hands of an insightful and sensitive writer, this claustrophobic character can wring great sympathy from a reader or viewer. Moreover, the character need not necessarily find closure by conquering the fear or doing something in spite of it,
e.g.,
nervously going into a cave to save his daughter, who is trapped. To prevent collapsing the story into melodrama, the writer may prefer to have that character continuing to struggle with claustrophobia after "The End" is written.

If the writer chooses the third option, however, then a pay-off scene will be required, in which the character is forced to come face to face with the phobia in a big way—that is, in a manner that will cause the reader to gasp right along with the character. This will have a greater impact than if the writer simply chose the first option, primarily because the writer will have laid plenty of groundwork during the story. But the author who wants a scene that plays big at the end of the story will first have to paint the character with meticulous brushstrokes, with each stroke leading up to a convincing and affecting portrait in the moment of do-or-die.

Here are some phobias that offer some potential:

animals (zoophobia)

dark (nyctophobia)

anything new (neophobia)

dead bodies (necrophobia)

being touched (haptephobia)

death (thanatophobia)