Weekly Musing: Difficult Characters to Write
I admit I’ve been playing it incredibly safe in my writing up to this point. Safe subject matters. Safe emotions. Safe storylines. Safe characters. The problem lies in my risk adverse nature and the desire to please people. I don’t want anyone to be upset with me and I don’t need people to psychoanalyze my work debating if it is saying more about me as a person rather than paying attention to the story itself.
The stakes are high for a writer. You take an incredible risk when putting a story out for public consumption. And as someone as risk adverse as I am, this can increase the level of anxiety I already cart around. This is why over the past couple of years I have been so safe with my work. A lot of it is because I’m learning, or at least that’s what I’ve been telling myself. That excuse can last only for so long which is why I have been giving a lot of thought as to what I’m afraid to write.
I determined what scares me the most are not difficult subject matters, other cultures, or characters from a different background but difficult characters. I’m talking those low-life, soul-sucking, evil dredges of life. Straight up I’m-here-to-blow-up-the-world baddies. The unrepentant bitches of the world. Villains that do terrible things but for reasons we can relate to even if they are still criminals.
I fear THE DARKNESS associated with these types of characters. Getting into the mind of someone I find morally reprehensible to tell his or her story. Let’s face it, people don’t really care to see the human side of a bad person. I fear a reader’s dislike of an evil character will somehow come back to me and the reader won’t like me as a person. It’s really stupid logic. Idiotic thinking for a writer, too. If a reader gets emotionally invested in a character, that isn’t always a bad thing. Perhaps the writer’s doing something right.
A good villain taps into the darker side of all of us. That secret spot filled with thoughts we would be unwilling to admit to anyone of its existence. That there are those times we would love to be able to say nasty things to people, do hurtful things to people, to just unleash the primal form from within.
For all my reservations about going to the Dark Side, sometimes the most memorable and delicious of characters isn’t the good guy. I think about the characters of Augusta Pilaster and Micky Miranda in Ken Follett’s A Dangerous Fortune . Both are villains cut from the same cloth: power hungry, greedy, successful, liars, and ambitious. What intrigues me about these two is that throughout most of the novel, they get away with every lie, deceit, and falsehood. As the reader, I’m waiting with bated breath for them to get their comeuppance in the end while secretly enjoying a lot of the horrible things they do. It’s not that I dislike the good guys in the book, I root for them to have things work out for them, but those two antagonists are just so much fun. I do wonder if Mr. Follett had as much writing their scenes as I did reading them.
Weekly Musing: If Writing Has Taught Me One Thing, It’s Taught Me…
I love watching and listening to the interviews Bill Kenower conducts on AuthorMagazine.org. Besides asking questions that show he has read the book the author is promoting as well as general writing questions, he always asks at the end of the interview ‘If writing has taught me one thing, it’s….’
This is my absolute favorite question. I look forward to the author’s answer because you can see the hamster running around the wheel in their mind as they ponder it. It’s fun watching the expression on the author’s face change. Up until that question, the author is usually relaxed and exhibits confidence in their answers. They are talking about the book after all; it’s easy to discuss where the idea came from, the process, what you’ve learned. But when that one question comes up, it’s Whoa! The uhs and ums come out. The writer breaks eye contact to stare at the ceiling, perhaps willing the deity of their choice to quickly inspire them. It’s a fascinating bit of people watching.
I love this question because as a new writer it’s illuminating hearing the answers. Many authors cite writing has taught them to be patient, persistent, and to have confidence in their abilities. Others have cited writing has taught them how to be a better person in that they are more aware of the world around them, to treat people better, and to listen more. Another common answer is writing has taught them to be themselves, to be comfortable, and confident in who they are.
I must admit, depending upon the interview I’ve just heard or watched I find myself changing my own answer. I guess it’s because the answers provided get me thinking about how the author came to that conclusion.
So if I ever get the privilege, this is how I would answer it, at least at this point:
If writing has taught me one thing, it has taught me to stand up for myself. Being a writer is what I feel like I was meant to be. Being able to express myself also means exposing myself to criticism. This has been both good and bad but what has amazed me is how I’ve been able to handle it. If someone has a constructive criticism, I can choose to entertain their comments or ignore them, sticking to my story how it is written if that is what I as a writer feel comfortable with. When it has come to the other kind of criticism, I have yet to back down from my work. I know what the intention of my piece is and what the thought process was behind it. If someone finds it offensive, that’s fine but I simply don’t see the need to apologize.
This is vastly different from my approach in other areas of my life. Normally I would be upset and feel a lot of guilt at causing anger in someone. I would apologize even when the cause was not something I did that was harmful. Just a matter of one person taking exception to something even when there was no malicious intent. But as I’ve taken writing more seriously, I find myself slowly able to stand up for myself. I don’t get defensive or unnecessarily apologetic as much. I remain calm and if there is something I should genuinely apologize for, then I do.
It’s funny to think that a profession such as writing, one where the writer is subject to all kinds of comments, criticisms, and analysis, that it could actually improve one’s self-esteem. Writers are told to develop a thick-skin. I used to think that referred to putting on a brave face in public and accepting quite quickly not everyone will like your work. Instead I’ve learned developing a thick-skin isn’t simply referring to one’s work but one’s life as well.
DH Hanni 