Sympathetic characters. The principal characters in our stories should be real, be relatable, have depth, and be mutable. As writers, we strive for believable and interesting character arcs. But how do we create character depth so that we are not writing simple fables, flat stories? Are your characters as complex and changeable as are you? My recent blog post about the spaces between gets at this complexity and what we aim for as writers. I said
A skilled writer grabs this feeling between the spaces, between the written words, and flings it to the reader to catch as she will, to perceive with her subconscious, to evoke feelings.
But that space is energy, not things. It is dynamic and in flow, full of potential. So we writers dance in it and around it, adding evocative and visceral descriptions and actions to emit the feeling quality we’re going for. No, we can’t control a reader’s experience–their personality and past will combine with your words to form a unique reading experience. But we can learn to dig deep into our characters’ psyches and elicit what they are feeling and experiencing as they move through the story. Here are a few resources I found valuable in honing my ability to do so:
Donald Maass’ The Emotional Craft of Fiction subtitle says it all: How to Write the Story Beneath the Surface. He offers the goal and the process using helpful examples and exercises. One takeaway for me is knowing when to add layers to a character’s feeling, when to bring in the deeper feelings that will be both relatable to a reader and a twist. Too often and it will slow a story, perhaps even be too predictable. There’s a balance between believability and predictability. When a story or a character is highly predictable, it’s boring. Play with Maass’ book and see where you end up with your story.
I highly recommend Stephen Harrod Buhner’s Plant Intelligence and the Imaginal Realm. Huh, you say? How is that a writing craft book? The book is largely about the kinesis of the world and ways to open your perception to feel it: a great writing-muscle enhancer. He gives an example of a writer getting at the kinesis of things–the hidden feeling dimension–when writing that a building “looked homey and warm.” Contrary to one school of thought on craft where we’re told to add the details of what the character is actually seeing that translate to them as homey and warm, e.g., honey-toned paint on weathered wood, Buhner says:
“Homey and “warm” are not visual descriptions…they are feeling descriptions (even though the writer used the word “looked” when he wrote the passage)…in this instance it’s part of the house’s secret kinesis. And it is the presence of that secret kinesis in the writing that activates the feeling sense of the reader.
Buhner’s book contains exercises and rich description to elicit this way of knowing, of relating to the world–yes, a wonderful tool for writers.