Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors (11 page)

“You’d better let the dog alone,” growled Mr. Heathcliff in unison, checking fiercer demonstrations with the punch of his foot. “She’s not accustomed to be spoiled—not kept for a pet.” Then, striding to a side door, he shouted again, “Joseph!”

Joseph mumbled indistinctly in the depths of the cellar, but gave no intimation of ascending; so his master dived down to him, leaving me vis-à-vis the ruffianly bitch and a pair of grim, shaggy sheep dogs, who shared with her a jealous guardianship over all my movements.

The dogs make Lockwood even more uncomfortable. His new Action Objective: “To keep the dogs from attacking.” Response: He sits very still.

Not anxious to come in contact with their fangs, I sat still; but, imagining they would scarcely understand tacit insults, I unfortunately indulged in winking and making faces at the trio, and some turn of my physiognomy so irritated madam, that she suddenly broke into a fury and leaped on my knees.

Uh-oh, now Lockwood’s really in trouble. His Action Objective: “To get away from the dog.” Response: He throws her aside and jumps behind a table.

I flung her back, and hastened to interpose the table between us. This proceeding roused the whole hive: half-a- dozen four-footed fiends, of various sizes and ages, issued from hidden dens to the common center. I felt my heels and coatlaps peculiar subjects of assault.

Completely outnumbered now, Lockwood realizes he is helpless. His Action Objective: ”To save myself from a potentially fatal attack.” Response: He calls for help.

Parrying off the larger combatants as effectually as I could with the poker, I was constrained to demand, aloud, assistance from some of the household in reestablishing peace.

Mr. Heathcliff and his man climbed the cellar steps with vexatious phlegm: I don’t think they moved one second faster than usual, though the hearth was an absolute tempest of worrying and yelping. Happily, an inhabitant of the kitchen made more dispatch: a lusty dame, with tucked-up gown, bare arms, and fire-flushed cheeks, rushed into the midst of us flourishing a frying pan: and used that weapon and her tongue, to such purpose, that the storm subsided magically, and she only remained, heaving like a sea after a high wind, when her master entered on the scene.

“What the devil is the matter?” he asked, eyeing me in a manner that I could ill endure after this inhospitable treatment.

Lockwood’s fear turns to anger, for the moment blotting out his initial Action Objective of wanting to please his host. His new objective: “To defend my actions to Heathcliff.” Response: He throws out accusations.

“What the devil, indeed!” I muttered. “The herd of possessed swine could have had no worse spirits in them than those animals of yours, sir. You might as well leave a stranger with a brood of tigers!”

“They won’t meddle with persons who touch nothing,” he remarked, putting the bottle before me, and restoring his displaced table. “The dogs do right to be vigilant. Take a glass of wine?”

“No, thank you.”

“Not bitten, are you?”

“If I had been, I would have set my signet on the biter.” Heathcliff’s countenance relaxed into a grin.

“Come, come,” he said, “you are flurried, Mr. Lockwood. Here, take a little wine. Guests are so exceedingly rare in this house that I and my dogs, I am willing to own, hardly know how to receive them. Your health, sir!”

At Heathcliff’s apology, Lockwood’s anger quickly fades, and he reconnects with the reason for his presence in the house. His new Action Objective: “To pull myself out of the mess I’ve made of this visit.” Response: He accepts the wine.

I bowed and returned the pledge; beginning to perceive that it would be foolish to sit sulking for the misbehavior of a pack of curs: besides, I felt loath to yield the fellow further amusement at my expense, since the humor took that turn.

As you can see, Lockwood’s initial Action Objective pulls him through the entire scene. His reactions to the conflicts all reflect this initial objective. Even when he lashes out at Heathcliff, his anger is partly born of the disappointment that his strong objective of making a good impression has gone horribly awry. (More on how one emotion leads to another in Secret #4.)

This scene provides an example for an important point:

As with the overall Desire, a character’s

initial Action Objective for a scene

must be exactly correct.

Take a look at the landlord, Heathcliff. What would you say is his initial Action Objective in this scene? He soon emerges as a complex person, one who knows little of civility. However, even though he is ill-disposed and ungracious toward his unexpected visitor, he does invite Lockwood into his house, offer him wine, and even apologizes when it’s absolutely necessary to convince the man to stay. Focusing on these basic choices, we could say his Action Objective is: “To welcome this visitor.” But if that is so, why all the conflict between the two men? Heathcliff’s objective would seem to fit hand-in-glove with Lockwood’s, and they should have a splendid visit. No, we must focus not only on Heathcliff’s
actions
, but also on his
demeanor
, which is anything but welcoming. I think Heathcliff’s Action Objective is more along the lines of: “To hide my incivility from this unexpected visitor.” This Action Objective is similar in that it will involve playing host to the man. Yet it is entirely different in that it’s not generous, focusing outwardly on Lockwood’s needs. Instead it is purely self- gratifying and focused inward. Ironically, in this self-serving state, Heathcliff opens himself up to all his flaws of incivility, and they proceed to color all that he does. He fails quite miserably to obtain his initial Action Objective.

As you focus on Action Objectives to write your scenes, you’ll see how effective they are in keeping your novel on course.

The use of Action Objectives will guide

every scene in your novel to move

the story forward in a vital way.

Specifically, Action Objectives ensure that:

1.
No scene is superfluous.

If your character is following a set of Action Objectives that relate to his overall Desire, each scene will emerge as a logical step toward trying to attain that Desire, regardless of how far the Distancing conflicts have shoved him off course.

2.
Backstory can be added without stopping the action.

Strong Action Objectives strengthen a scene and keep you, the author, from shoving in too much backstory or narrative. Of course, these things are necessary at times, but the goal is to never stop the action for the sake of backstory. (More on this point in the Study Samples.)

3.
No scene is a mere setup for further events.

This is a follow-up to the point above. Action Objectives can provide a wonderful test to apply before writing a scene—or in editing it later. In each scene, can you see the character’s initial Action Objective and subsequent objectives? Or is your character doing little in the scene while you load it up with backstory? In other words, is the scene a logical progression toward your character’s Desire or is it a mere “shell scene” in which you inform the reader of description, past experiences, and the like? If you cannot see clear Action Objectives that lead your character through the scene, stop writing it. Or if it’s already written, cut it. Believe me, it will be boring.

4.
Your character’s words and choices are true to her personalized identity and Desire.

With a clear set of Action Objectives to guide your character through each scene, she will appear believable and real. This is not to say her emotions won’t flow in different directions at times. Conflicting emotions are a part of human nature, and readers can identify. Sometimes an action a character takes will be ill-advised or downright wrong. But as we saw with Lockwood, these wrong choices will be the result of Action Objectives gone awry. The character wants something in particular, doesn’t get it, and reacts in a negative way.

As we close this chapter, remember that the key to determining Action Objectives lies first in discovering your character’s Desire, or super-objective, that will propel her through the story. Once you have personalized your character and understand her Desire, you are well on your way to building a coherent and compelling novel.

As I mentioned before, I’m something of both a plotter and a pantser. Because my Seatbelt Suspense® novels are full of twists, plus red herrings and clues as to the ultimate revealing of truth, I have to know the end before I start writing. (Even the opening line may contain some hint of the ending.) I also know the major twists. I wish I could plot the rest of the story, but I just can’t. In other words, I know where I’m going, but I’m not sure how I’m going to get there. So my pantser side plays out for much for the book. But with the Four Ds in mind, I can still write a taut, tense-filled story that logically progresses to the planned ending. Along the way my characters tell me how that will happen. Sometimes they give me new ideas—better than those I’d originally planned. But the writing doesn’t wander. I can honestly tell you I
never
write a scene that’s later discarded. If it’s not a scene that moves the story forward, I don’t write it. And I don’t manage this by consciously figuring out every Action Objective in a scene. As with all the Secrets in this book, I’ve taken this concept apart so you can see its pieces. But when you learn how Action Objectives work and make them a part of your writing, most of the time you’ll use them automatically. (There’s that driving a car analogy again.)

Study Samples

FROM:
The Count of Monte Cristo
(classic), by Alexandre Dumas.

SETTING: France, early 1800s. Seventeen-year-old Mercedes speaks with her cousin, Fernand, who is wildly in love with her. Mercedes’s initial Action Objective for the scene: “To convince Fernand to stop asking me to marry him”—for her heart belongs to Edmond Dantes. Fernand’s initial Action Objective: “To convince Mercedes to marry me.”

“You see, Mercedes,” said the young man, “here is Easter come round again; tell me, is this the moment for a wedding?”

“I have answered you a hundred times, Fernand, and really you must be very stupid to ask me again.”

“Well, repeat it,—repeat it, I beg of you, that I may at last believe it! Tell me for the hundredth time that you refuse my love, which had your mother’s sanction. Make me understand once for all that you are trifling with my happiness, that my life or death are nothing to you. Ah, to have dreamed for ten years of being your husband, Mercedes, and to lose that hope, which was the only stay of my existence!”

“At least it was not I who ever encouraged you in that hope, Fernand,” replied Mercedes; “you cannot reproach me with the slightest coquetry. I have always said to you, ‘I love you as a brother; but do not ask from me more than sisterly affection, for my heart is another’s.’ Is not this true, Fernand?”

“Yes, that is very true, Mercedes,” replied the young man, “yes, you have been cruelly frank with me; but do you forget that it is among the Catalans a sacred law to intermarry?”

“You mistake, Fernand; it is not a law, but merely a custom, and, I pray of you, do not cite this custom in your favor. You are included in the conscription, Fernand, and are only at liberty on sufferance, liable at any moment to be called upon to take up arms. Once a soldier, what would you do with me, a poor orphan, forlorn, without fortune, with nothing but a half-ruined hut and a few ragged nets, the miserable inheritance left by my father to my mother, and by my mother to me? She has been dead a year, and you know, Fernand, I have subsisted almost entirely on public charity. Sometimes you pretend I am useful to you, and that is an excuse to share with me the produce of your fishing, and I accept it, Fernand, because you are the son of my father’s brother, because we were brought up together, and still more because it would give you so much pain if I refuse. But I feel very deeply that this fish which I go and sell, and with the produce of which I buy the flax I spin,—I feel very keenly, Fernand, that this is charity.”