Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors (5 page)

There you go—a major discovery. The character’s answer has revealed an inner value (Step 2): “External accomplishments pursued for the approval of my father and grandfather are more important than personal integrity.” You can begin to imagine how this inner value will drive the character’s emotions and actions. And in fact, maybe this unexpected inner value will lead to a new plot point in your story.

You can now probe further to find what trait will result from this inner value (Step 3). Perhaps the young man will appear overly zealous in all he does, even to the point of being foolhardy, in order to achieve. Or perhaps he’ll be just the opposite—reluctant and cautious because he fears failure.

Once you discover the personality trait, continue with the questioning to see if you can hit bottom again and reveal a specific mannerism (Steps 4 and 5). If the trait is that the character borders on foolhardiness in order to prove himself, you might ask how he handles nervous energy when he faces a challenge. Does he try to hide it so he can appear calm, cool, and collected? If so, how well does he manage this? Even if he hides his nervousness well, is there a vulnerable part of his body to which the energy naturally flows? Perhaps he broke an arm by falling off a bicycle when he was too young to ride a two-wheeler—one of those early failures at trying to achieve for the sake of his father’s approval. The memory still eats at him, and as a result, he unconsciously flexes that arm when he’s nervous. Or perhaps his thumb twitches as a result of some other experience you uncover.

Once you’ve gone through all five Personalizing steps with one line of questioning, start the process all over again by going back to Level A and picking up another line of questioning until you again hit bottom and discover another inner value. Then probe your character until you discover the resulting trait(s) and mannerism(s). Continue your questioning in this way until you have discovered all the inner values, traits, and mannerisms of your character that you possibly can at this time.

Here is an example of how I used the Personalizing process for my main character, Jackie Delham, in
Capture The Wind For Me
.
Wind
had already been sold as a “blind” title in a multi-book contract, labeled merely as Bradleyville Series Book 3. I had a deadline but no plot. I had to get moving.

I started with the few facts I knew about Jackie. She was sixteen. Had lost her mother two years earlier to cancer. She was the oldest of three. Robert was twelve, Clarissa, nine. That was about it. I understood the setting well and knew about the troubled history of Jackie’s father, who’d been a supporting character in book 2 of the series. But I knew very little about Jackie.

I picked up the first line of questioning in Level A by probing about the most obvious fact—her mother’s death. How had Jackie and her mother gotten along? Had her parents loved each other? What had Jackie’s mother taught her? I decided that Jackie and her mother had been very close, and her parents really loved each other. In fact, Jackie’s father had been devastated at his wife’s death. I moved into Level B. What were some things the family had enjoyed before Jackie’s mom got sick? How long was she sick? Did Jackie help nurse her during that time? As I learned more about the household I moved into Level C. So how did Jackie react at her mother’s death? How had she been in the two years since the funeral? How had the household run without a mother?

Eventually through continued questioning I “hit bottom” and discovered an inner value of Jackie. Because her mother had been so loved, and because the family—including the father—now seemed lost, and because Jackie was the oldest female in the family,
she
had taken on the role as mother, as the one who ran the household. Her inner value: “I am responsible for taking care of my siblings and my father.”

This was a major point to learn about Jackie. All the weight of the family now rested on her shoulders. Not that her father would want her to feel that way. But
she
had put this terrible burden on herself. And so, when a certain beautiful and vivacious woman named Katherine May King breezes into town and catches the eye of Jackie’s father, Jackie would immediately rise to the occasion. Katherine is a flirt and can’t be trusted. Jackie’s father simply can’t see that. So Jackie must protect him. Save him from this woman.

Pursuing the inner value into Step 3, I continued my questioning until I discovered certain traits that arose from it (Step 4). One trait was Jackie’s constant picking up around the house. It had to be neat and orderly—to counteract the chaos the family felt inside since their mother/wife had died. When I pursued that into a mannerism (Step 5), I discovered Jackie would use the importance she placed on outward orderliness to calm herself when she was upset. This would play out in numerous scenes. For example, when her father tries to talk to her in her bedroom about his dating Katherine, Jackie starts hurrying around, straightening a picture on the wall, on the bookcase. Throwing a pair of shoes in her closet, picking something small off the floor.

This one inner value and the mannerisms that arose from it would lead to many of the plot points for my novel.

In Personalizing your characters, remember three important things:

1.
The personalizing process is not a one-shot deal.

You will find yourself returning to its steps again and again. No matter how diligently you follow the process, characters just don’t reveal themselves all at once. As you write your novel, they’ll hint at new facts about themselves, opening up new lines of questioning for you to follow. Take the time to go through the process again. No doubt you’ll discover new truths about your character. And these new truths can lead to further plot points.

In fact—have you ever been writing, and found yourself typing something you never expected? As if the character had literally taken over your fingers? That has happened to me, even though I’m more of a plotter than a “seat-of-the-pants” writer. I was writing book 2 in the Bradleyville Series,
Color The Sidewalk For Me
. I thought I had the story pretty well planned out. Then the protagonist, Celia, started doing something I never expected her to do. Even as my fingers flew over the keys, I told her, “Don’t do this. You will ruin your life.” She did it anyway.

So what was
that
all about? My character didn’t really come to life, any more than yours can.
We
create our characters. Yet somehow my subconscious mind took over at that moment.

One of two things may be happening at a time like that: you are uncovering an inner value you didn’t know your character had, or you’ve discovered that an inner value you did know about is far stronger than expected. Whichever the case, this can be writing at its truest—when the character’s choice of action, arising naturally from the core of
who she is
, pushes the plot in a direction you didn’t expect.

Or it could be a wild goose chase that you need to rein in right now. (How’s that for a mixed metaphor?)

If this happens to you, don’t stop the writing while it’s flowing. Go for it. But when it’s done, stop. Think. Revisit the Personalizing process. What did this unexpected event just uncover about your character? Does it ring true with everything else you know about her? Does it
feel
right? Or not.

2.      
Your character’s inner values are not separate entities.

Sometimes they work together to produce resulting traits. Sometimes they mitigate each other. For example, let’s return to the newly rich woman with the inner value that her self-worth is tied to her money. This inner value could result in the trait of acting proud or even flaunting her wealth. However, as you pursue other lines of questioning, you might discover that she also has the inner value of placing the utmost importance on other people’s approval. What will be the result of these two inner values working together? It depends on which one is stronger. If the need for approval is stronger, when this woman is with others who don’t value or possess money as she does, she may tone down her flaunting in order to gain their approval. Or if she’s with others who are wealthy, she may flaunt all the more to be accepted. (In Secret #4, Coloring Passions, I’ll discuss in more detail how inner values work together to create the many different shades of a trait.)

3.      
The personalizing process can work backward.

Let’s say right away you know your character doesn’t just walk. He strides like a superhero on a mission. That’s fine. True, you’re starting at the end of the Personalizing process, with a mannerism. But you can go backward. Trace that mannerism back up, seeing if you can discover the inner value from which it came. If you can, great. If not, be ruthless about tossing that stride aside. If you insist on keeping it, it may well feel “tacked on.” Not true to the character.

This last point leads to our next discussion—a more specific look at your character’s mannerisms.

Putting The Spark Of Life Into Your Character’s Mannerisms

Through the Personalizing process, we’ve seen how you can discover mannerisms based on your character’s inner values. You have built your character from the inside out. You are now ready to put that final spark of life into your character’s mannerisms. But first, two questions: Just how many mannerisms should your character have? And, does every mannerism have to be tied to an inner value, and reveal itself while you’re in the middle of the Personalizing process?

As to the first question, no specific number of mannerisms for a character exists. If only it were that simple. Instead, use this general guideline:

A character should display only as many

mannerisms as are necessary to convey

what is important about him or her

without distracting from the story

and the character’s role within it.

You do not need to find mannerisms for every part of your character’s body. Certain ones will appear as important. These will dominate and define your character. For example, one character may have a very distinctive walk, while another’s walk is not distinctive enough to note. Or one may speak in a whiny voice while another’s voice isn’t particularly unusual. Don’t fall into the trap of thinking that the more mannerisms your character has, the more defined he or she will be. The opposite is true. Too many mannerisms can lead to a “muddied” effect, just as too many colors blended together create a dull gray-brown. The quality of mannerisms is far more important than their quantity.

Some characters are more “colorful” in nature than others. These characters are fun, but you must be all the more careful not to overload them with mannerisms. Colorful characters typically aren’t that way because they have a greater number of personalized traits or mannerisms, but because those they do have tend to be extreme. “Over the top,” we might say. A character loaded with too many over-the-top mannerisms will go from being pleasantly colorful to just plain unbelievable. Or annoying. Or both.

Now to the second question. Does every mannerism have to rise from an inner value, and reveal itself while you’re in the middle of the Personalizing process? Short answer to this two-part question: probably and no.

More mannerisms will rise from your character’s inner values than you might think. Go through the Personalizing process first. See what mannerisms your character reveals to you. Then, as you get to know your character better and better in the process of writing your novel, you may find a certain mannerism creeping into his or her actions that you didn’t discover during the Personalizing process. This mannerism will likely be truthful to the character, because it’s arising naturally from the Personalizing you’ve done.

What you don’t want to do, halfway through your novel, is fall back into the habit of merely “dressing the mannequin.” You want to avoid slapping on a hasty mannerism just because you think your character needs more.

As you discover your character’s mannerisms, you’ll want to infuse them with that final spark of life. The best way to do this is to draw ideas for moving, talking, walking, from the world around you. Watch people constantly. It’s as simple—and as life-consuming—as that.

The idea of observing others is nothing new to novelists. We pay it lip service all the time. But how often do we really put our people-watching skills to work? Often we become so busy writing that we forget to replenish ourselves with new, vital input. Where to gather these snippets of humanity? Everywhere. Watch people in cars, bars, and restaurants; in airports and buses and train stations; at work and at play; in stadium bleachers and church pews; at weddings and funerals; at dances, parties, school, stores; in their own homes and while traveling. Watch family, friends, and strangers alike. Watch yourself. Watch people standing in line, hailing a cab, yelling at another driver, hugging a loved one, laughing, eating, sitting, walking, talking, reacting. This constant observation of human nature can’t be stressed enough.

Years ago I sat in a classroom trying desperately to push my mind into full left-brained mode as the teacher lectured about aerodynamics and all manner of mathematical marvels involved in flight. But the student in front of me kept drawing my attention. He had the most interesting way of slouching in his seat, one shoulder raised to an uncanny level above the other, neck thrust forward and head held at an angle—sort of like a hunchbacked bird listening for a worm. My fingers itched to write down that posture. How could I possibly concentrate on the teacher with this captivating sight before me?