by Miko Johnston
We can plot our stories well, describe settings vividly, and touch on all the senses, but the heart of any story is its characters, and they need more than a heart to make them come alive.
I began writing fiction, or more accurately, learning how to write fiction, while working in a library. It gave me access to numerous books and magazines for self-study. One book in the collection devoted a chapter to creating characters, complete with a checklist of traits and their opposites – outgoing vs shy; scholarly vs uneducated – from which the prospective writer could choose and assemble. I found the idea silly and worse, useless. Whether in my writing or my reading, I want characters to resemble real human beings, only more interesting than the average person. You can’t achieve that by compiling random parts. Just ask Dr. Frankenstein.
We’re told to have our characters want something and then keep it from them, make them fight for it. Good advice, crucial for plot. We must describe them with enough detail so the reader can visualize them; again, good advice. Backstories and bios, family and friends, strengths and flaws, jobs and hobbies or interests. How they dress. What and who they like or dislike. The dark secret in their past that drives them forward or holds them back. These big picture details lay a foundation for characters. However, it takes more to breathe life into them. Whether you call them quirks, idiosyncrasies or eccentricities, these subtle differences add a realistic quality to them.
Although our individual quirks may differ, we all have them, which makes this a commonality. In other words, a human trait.
Think of Robert Crais’ Elvis Cole and his affection for cartoon characters, the dry humor of Nelson DeMille’s John Corey, or the fussy Inspector Poirot and his eggs in Agatha Christie’s mystery series. Master art restorer Gabriel Allon inherited his talent, as well as trauma, from his Holocaust survivor mother. And while we naturally empathize with a blind girl like Marie-Laure in “All The Light We Cannot See”, the way she copes with it makes her mesmerizing.
There are two general types of quirks – nature and nurture. Nature includes those the character was born with, such as personality types or bio-physical traits like an intellectual disability or a club foot. A life experience, whether an acquired taste or an emotionally painful experience, would fall under the nurture category. In all cases, how the character has internalized the trait leads to the quirk.
Quirks have to be worked organically into the story. They shouldn’t be unrooted in the character’s history or biology. They should play a role in the character’s thoughts, emotions or actions. They need to be noticeable, but not too blatant; subtle, but not too vague. Readers need to discover them on their own by being shown the behaviors rather than being told about them.
A character’s quirks can be related to their physicality, the way they dress or groom themselves, their behavior or personality, or they can be completely random. Here’s one example: money. Most everyone I’ve met has a philosophy, or criteria, about what they’re willing to spend on something. They’ll be tight-fisted about some things and looser, even extravagant about others. What does it say about a character who’ll spend hundreds of dollars on tickets to the opera, a Broadway play, or the Superbowl, but won’t pay two dollars for a can of tuna in the supermarket unless they get a double-off coupon? Or worse, not buy it at all because they can remember when it cost thirty-nine cents? It says they’re “human”.
Ultimately, it’s not so much a matter of “what” a character does or doesn’t do, what they like or dislike, that makes them full-fledged humans. It’s the “why” that makes it interesting and brings them to life. Always listen to your character, for they’ll often tell you what’s right for them. For hints on this, see Gayle’s earlier post.
When treading the fine line between character and caricature, here’s what to avoid:
- Cliched or overused idiosyncrasies. If I had a dollar for every alcoholic PI, or divorced or widowed detective, I could pay my cable bill for a year. If you’ve seen it before, add a new twist. If you’ve seen it over and over again, avoid it like the plague (humor intended).
- An assemblage of unrelated quirks, as if selected from a list found in a book (jab intended). Author Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe tends his orchids, reads voraciously, and feasts on gourmet food from the comfort of his luxurious home. The genius of his character is how all his passions connect.
- Limit the number of quirks, or else – well, just ask Dr. Frankenstein.
- Don’t overdo the ones you use. Quirks are like seasoning – you need enough to enhance the flavor without overpowering it.
If you found this post helpful, leave a comment, and feel free to contribute your suggestions for making characters come to life. Frankly, my ulterior motive in writing this comes as much from my goal to write books with believable and engrossing characters as my desire to read them.
Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series, “A Petal in the Wind”, as well as a contributor to several anthologies including the about-t0-be-released “Whidbey Island: An Insider’s Guide”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com
The Writers in Residence 
After reading your very informative post I can truthfully say a whole bunch of the books I’ve read from all kinds of writers don’t do a very good job of creating characters that have any personality at all. So many are cardboard or cliches. I know that not every character that walks across the page has to have a complete profile, but too many of the main characters are redundantly ordinary. I will work harder on giving my main characters a personality that has a life of their own, because I do let them talk to me and tell me who they are.
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Certain genres, including mystery, have formulas for writing which can lead to formulaic characters. However, when a writer who’s created several unique and memorable characters says, “I will work harder…” then I know I made my point.
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Thank you, Miko. However much we have learned over the years of writing, we can always find something new from another writer’s perspective. This was great.
Cheers,
jill
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I’ve learned so much throughout the years from my fellow bloggers I’m pleased I can return the favor.
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Characters are definitely critical to writing a good story, Miko, and it helps to determine their backgrounds before writing about them. Quirks help too! Thanks for a thought-provoking post.
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Characters serve as a bridge that connects the reader to the story. We can enjoy the most thrilling, outrageous or scary plot if we can relate to the characters who exist within it, and remember them if they stand out.
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I read a lot of AUDIOBOOKS, where sometimes poor characterization can be offset by an excellent narrator. I now will listen more closely to my favorite audio books, and try to pick up the things you have mentioned..
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Interesting observation, Jackie. I’m in two writers groups, one where we read pages online and one where they’re read aloud. I find in the latter case, the reader’s role can contribute to the narrative. Readers of printed material don’t have that advantage.
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When I wrote my first Hazel Rose Book Group mystery I had a character who was nasty as all get out (I based her on a former boss!). But I was told to cut 10 thousand words so my editing process was quite ruthless. She became quite nice and went on to be a series regular. I guess she was telling me she wasn’t so bad after all.
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Haha, Maggie. I love that. I guess characters should stand independently, although they can begin with someone we love or love to hate. It’s funny, the little stories I wrote for my granddaughters when they were young, I can see now, I based them on each of one themselves! How strange that I did that!
Molly, the sleuth, was my oldest, Shannon who LOVED mysteries. Princess Ebony was my middle granddaughter, Kerry, whom I have always called “Princess.” And Ling was based on my youngest, Jana. Both had older siblings and something to do with a foreign country and flowers. Huh!
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You created a charming tradition, Jackie. Usually basing characters on real people can be tricky, as we want them to be larger than life on the page; in short, extraordinary. But who doesn’t have extraordinary grandchildren?
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Jackie, I love that idea and your granddaughters have something to treasure.
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Your process sounds like carving a block of marble into a figure. You cut away the excess and the unnecessary until the real character emerged.
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Interesting thoughts, Miko. I like the odd quirk in a character, as long as it’s not overloaded. And the little idiosyncrasies make our characters human – something we can relate to. Agatha Christie was good at that.
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Writers devote much time to developing their protagonists, which allows readers to get to know them. We don’t have that advantage with secondary or more minor characters. Giving them a unique twist contributes to making them memorable.
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I always love your posts. Every time I learn something new. I know exactly what you mean about the clichéd detectives- we see them all the time on the TV too. I always know that whenever I’m stuck on my plot to go back to my characters. And yes – I do START with a character based on someone I know – but happily, those in real life don’t – thankfully – stumble upon a dead body. I often wonder how I would react if I did!
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Thanks, Hannah. This business of writing for our pleasure as well as for others to enjoy is challenging. I read to escape but I also want characters and situations that are believable within the parameters of the story’s world. I try to do that in my own writing as well. Long ago I gave myself permission to write a “vomit” draft of a chapter or scene when I get stuck. I get it down, then go back and fix the cliches, lapses in logic and flat characters. It works.
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