Character Development

When I get an idea for a story, I think a fair bit about it before I even start writing. I can kind of see where the story goes, who the hero is and how it all ends. But then the magic of writing happens and everything you thought was going to happen – doesn’t.

While writing The River Brings Them I really thought I knew who my heroes were, who was going to live and die. Turns out I was completely wrong about most of it. The unseen hero emerged into view when I was almost finished with the entire story. This led me to rewrite the whole fourth and fifth chapter / episode.

I had not seen it in my mind’s eye as I had seen the story. I allowed the writing to do its thing and show me instead the real story that I had missed. I was only tempted with it to the keyboard so that the true story could emerge.

I have a love and hate relationship with this process. I have learned over time to bow to the muse and leave my ego at the writing room door and allow myself and my writing to be taken to wherever the story and the characters need to go.

When I start with a character, I have a name and an occupation and may or may not have some brief family history (married, kids etc.) Then it’s up to them.

This has been the most difficult thing to learn about writing for me. Instead of moulding the character and develping a complex personality that will stun and intrigue readers, I allow the character to come forth as they are.

In my latest piece I was honestly surprised and who emerged to the page and it was totally against what I had thought in the first place.

I have written so much in the past, published some, and hidden most. As I have aged I have become more intent on my purpose and my mission to get them all done and out before it really is too late. One piece that I desperately want to complete I remember tweeting about several years ago.

I was bawling my eyes out because my character had died at exactly the time that they should but that I hadn’t seen from the start of the project. I couldn’t bring myself to return to it for months because I was grieving a person who I thought I had made up.

As Stephen King says so well in “On Writing” all stories are living things and it is our job as writers to excavate as much of the detail as possible. I believe this to be true and the grief that I felt for my character was definitely real. My kids thought I was batshit out of my mind. “You made him up.”

I don’t think I did. I think I was introduced to them and it was my job to tell the awful story.

People show you who they are but what they do and say. It is not for us to invent it and create, but to find and report. It’s what I think anyway.

I’m pretty sure that work will be my last as it will take several years of skill development (I think) to do it justice.

 

In the meantime enjoy the small pieces I am bringing to you here.