Post by Kitsun on Jul 21, 2004 1:03:27 GMT
Right, so you’re just completing the climax of your adventure story, and the time has come for your handsome, chivalrous hero to rescue the damsel in distress. He carries her out of the crumbling tower and sets her safely down outside, they gaze fondly into one another’s eyes … and she confesses her love for his short, fat, balding sidekick.
What? When did that happen? Or, more precisely, how did that happen? You’d spent months working on your characters, touching them up and getting to know them. And now, when you look at your leading lady, you realize that she never liked the hero. She thinks he’s a bit of an airhead, actually.
If there’s one thing you learn from writing your own tales, it’s that the author is not necessarily in charge. Sure, you create the characters, you give them personalities and histories and environments, but somewhere along the way, they start to make their own decisions.
When a character first arrives in your head, they’re usually already half-formed. They may have a name, or a certain hair color, or an odd way of speaking or walking. Even if you don’t particularly like something about them, they can get very annoyed if you change it. It’s the same with interaction: it’s near impossible to force two characters to get along if they simply don’t like one another.
To be fair, most characters tend to behave themselves, and wait patiently for directions. Sometimes that’s a good thing: they’ll do what they’re told and they’re easy to manipulate. Often, though, the obedient ones are harder to get to know, and a lot less fun to play with.
Sometimes your subconscious picks up on things better than you do. The dreaded ‘writer’s block’ often comes into play when you think you’ve run out of ideas, or when the story no longer works the way you planned it. It helps to leave your story alone for a few days, and let everything stew in your mind. Sooner or later, an idea will pop into your head unbidden. A little voice will whisper, “This is what happens next …” When this happens, don’t be alarmed: it’s just one of your characters who’s starting to get bored, and has decided you need a little help.
Don’t be afraid to listen to the voices. In fact, sometimes you need to rely on them. You may well dream about your story, and wake up in the morning with a solution you’d never even thought of. Try it: it just might work.
If you have a character that’s being stubborn, don’t force them to do something they don’t want to do. Have a chat with them. Take them to a hypothetical pub, by them an imaginary drink and let them talk. Ask them about themselves, their world, and their opinions. You can even get them drunk; it’s amazing what you can learn. Don’t spend too much time thinking about the answers. Just let the character answer in their own time, in their own words. Even if you ask them something personal and they tell you to biff off, you’ve still learned something about them: they’re a private person.
Your story, your characters and the worlds in which they live are always changing. This is natural; the same thing happens in real life. People grow and evolve. Cities rise and fall. Your hero may return home to find his family gone and his house filled with sheep. Even if you didn’t plan this, you can work around it, or even better, work it into the story. Maybe his mother has died, or his sisters have been kidnapped. Maybe the sheep are carnivorous, and ate them. Or maybe they’ve just moved on, and will meet up with the hero later on in the story.
Occasionally you’ll suddenly learn something about a character that even they didn’t know. Don’t feel the need to go back and drop hints earlier in the story. The reader will often appreciate the element of surprise.
Also, if one day you sit down to write and your shy, blonde heroine comes into your head with fluorescent green hair and a nose ring, you may need to find a reason for this and work it in. Otherwise, she may well get cranky and leave your imagination. You never know—it could be that time of the month.
In the end, it’s their story. You might have given them life and a place to live, but the characters are the ones who are telling the story. You’re just writing it down for them. So listen to the voices. Other people will think you’re crazy, but what the hell—isn’t that why you’re an artist?
What? When did that happen? Or, more precisely, how did that happen? You’d spent months working on your characters, touching them up and getting to know them. And now, when you look at your leading lady, you realize that she never liked the hero. She thinks he’s a bit of an airhead, actually.
If there’s one thing you learn from writing your own tales, it’s that the author is not necessarily in charge. Sure, you create the characters, you give them personalities and histories and environments, but somewhere along the way, they start to make their own decisions.
When a character first arrives in your head, they’re usually already half-formed. They may have a name, or a certain hair color, or an odd way of speaking or walking. Even if you don’t particularly like something about them, they can get very annoyed if you change it. It’s the same with interaction: it’s near impossible to force two characters to get along if they simply don’t like one another.
To be fair, most characters tend to behave themselves, and wait patiently for directions. Sometimes that’s a good thing: they’ll do what they’re told and they’re easy to manipulate. Often, though, the obedient ones are harder to get to know, and a lot less fun to play with.
Sometimes your subconscious picks up on things better than you do. The dreaded ‘writer’s block’ often comes into play when you think you’ve run out of ideas, or when the story no longer works the way you planned it. It helps to leave your story alone for a few days, and let everything stew in your mind. Sooner or later, an idea will pop into your head unbidden. A little voice will whisper, “This is what happens next …” When this happens, don’t be alarmed: it’s just one of your characters who’s starting to get bored, and has decided you need a little help.
Don’t be afraid to listen to the voices. In fact, sometimes you need to rely on them. You may well dream about your story, and wake up in the morning with a solution you’d never even thought of. Try it: it just might work.
If you have a character that’s being stubborn, don’t force them to do something they don’t want to do. Have a chat with them. Take them to a hypothetical pub, by them an imaginary drink and let them talk. Ask them about themselves, their world, and their opinions. You can even get them drunk; it’s amazing what you can learn. Don’t spend too much time thinking about the answers. Just let the character answer in their own time, in their own words. Even if you ask them something personal and they tell you to biff off, you’ve still learned something about them: they’re a private person.
Your story, your characters and the worlds in which they live are always changing. This is natural; the same thing happens in real life. People grow and evolve. Cities rise and fall. Your hero may return home to find his family gone and his house filled with sheep. Even if you didn’t plan this, you can work around it, or even better, work it into the story. Maybe his mother has died, or his sisters have been kidnapped. Maybe the sheep are carnivorous, and ate them. Or maybe they’ve just moved on, and will meet up with the hero later on in the story.
Occasionally you’ll suddenly learn something about a character that even they didn’t know. Don’t feel the need to go back and drop hints earlier in the story. The reader will often appreciate the element of surprise.
Also, if one day you sit down to write and your shy, blonde heroine comes into your head with fluorescent green hair and a nose ring, you may need to find a reason for this and work it in. Otherwise, she may well get cranky and leave your imagination. You never know—it could be that time of the month.
In the end, it’s their story. You might have given them life and a place to live, but the characters are the ones who are telling the story. You’re just writing it down for them. So listen to the voices. Other people will think you’re crazy, but what the hell—isn’t that why you’re an artist?
