Is your character someone to root for?

As I've mentioned before, effective character development is something I constantly strive toward. This was especially apparent last Friday, when my story was up for critique in my MFA class. 

During the workshop, people said they didn't really like the main character--and some of them even sympathized with characters who were supposed to be adversaries. 

One classmate hit the nail on the head as to why. She said, "She wasn't really someone I could root for."

This really struck a chord with me. Because we all want our characters to be relatable. Likable. Someone our readers will want to stick with for several pages. 

But if I'm rooting for a character, I'm with them all the way, even after the wheels fall off. 

So I asked myself the following:

Which characters make me feel like this: ("Rick 'em, rack em!")

From Tumblr: "A Girl Worth Fighting For" http://i-wont-say-im-in-loveee.tumblr.com/

Instead of this: ("If he can't do it, GREAT!")

From Tumblr: "Darling You'll be Okay" http://lover-drown-me.tumblr.com/

Here are a few examples I came up with:

Matilda Wormwood (Matilda, by Roald Dahl): Matilda grows up in a family that doesn't appreciate her. But what really keeps us with her the whole way is she doesn't let this get her down, nor does she act superior (even though she is). As an agent of chaos, she fights back by playing subtle pranks on her family and other adversaries.

What Matilda teaches us: Protagonists need to see the humor in their situations, no matter how bleak they are.

Claire Beauchamp (Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon): In contrast with Matilda, Claire is an inherently strong-willed person. But what keeps us for the long haul is her vulnerability as well as her strength. Like Matilda, she's cunning, and willing to be an agent of chaos to get what she needs. Steal a horse to return to the standing stones that brought her to eighteenth century Scotland. Or defy a priest to save the life of a young boy.  But in both those situations, Claire is also inherently vulnerable. 

What Claire teaches us: Protagonists' actions need a distinct purpose in concordance with the chaos they create, and strong characters need to show their softer sides.

Tally Youngblood (Uglies, by Scott Westerfeld): Tally, like Matilda, is put in a weak position from the onset, especially after she loses her best friend Peris to the "pretties." Although Tally considers herself an "ugly," she doesn't wallow in that. And through her journey to dismantle what's been created, she figures out that being "pretty" isn't all that important anyway. 

What Tally teaches us: Protagonists need enough flexibility to grow and change. 

Notice that all three characters have something in common: a willingness to be an agent of chaos. To turn their external worlds upside down. What makes the difference is how that change relates to them as human beings.

So in this short story I wrote (it's probably going to turn into a book chapter), I've decided to make my character a little wiser (like Claire), more stoic (like Matilda) and more flexible (like Tally). And, like all three, a true agent of chaos.

What about you? Which characters do you root for most? And in turn, what do you think makes readers root for the characters you've written?

What's your subconscious telling you?

I'll admit I don't listen to my subconscious as much as I should. Like many of us, I get caught up in the doldrums of day-to-day life, and to-do lists, especially when I have a lot on my plate.

But living this way means a lot gets ignored. As an example, all I've thought about lately is the six-week intensive literature class that's part of my MFA in Creative Writing. At the same time, I'm determined to keep up with the edits in my current WIP (I just passed 100 pages). Plus all the day-job blah-blah. I don't know how all of you with kids do it. Even without them, I'm working so hard to keep up that I'm too stressed to take time and relax. And my body is starting to make me pay for it.

Sometimes this happens to writers on deadline. Or with a book contract. And then a family crisis happens. Or something else life-related. And then we have to figure out our way through the muck before it pulls us under.

When I went to the Buildin' The Dream conference this past weekend, I was reminded how important relaxation time is, and why taking it is so important during stressful times (even though that's when it's hardest to do). Taking it doesn't mean I'll drop any of the balls I'm juggling. If anything, it means that I'll have time to catch them before they drop.

As writers, we don't leave ourselves a lot of brain space.  That, combined with our go-go-go society and so many women leaning in (and with subsequent rebuttals, including this genius middle ground solution from Creative Juicer), means our subconscious gets squished under a lot of things that might not matter. And then we end up snuffing out our own fires.

Mine was nearly snuffed out, but I was too busy to notice. During a session entitled, Writing From the Ashes, from the awesomely talented Amber Scott, I started to get it back again. And it brought on a flood of tears.

I couldn't stop crying. It was embarrassing. I realized how much I was holding in, and suppressing my subconscious. How sick I made myself as a result of all my self-induced stress. And even worse: that none of it was necessary.

Amber said our subconscious is an order taker--which means we can control the orders we give it. If we don't change the orders, we'll inevitably put that part of our brains--that beautiful, subtle subconsciousness, in chains. Then, not only will our writing suffer, but our health and well-being will too.

In my last post, I talked about how I came to realize that my subconscious is a smarter writer than I am. It hinted at secrets my protagonist's mother was hiding. On the next go through, I played them up, and the story improved immensely as a result.

For those of you (all of you?) juggling a million things--are you taking the time to give your brain the space it needs? Are you taking perhaps five, ten minutes a day to be present with your physical self, and drop your mental tasks for a moment so you can have the strength to pick them back up and carry them?

It's great to work toward goals. But also take time to breathe, even if it's for a few minutes a day. Listen to your body and tune in to what your subconscious is saying. What is it telling you? And more importantly--are you listening?

Emotional Overload is a Beautiful Thing

So, last week I was pondering on whether or not creative people needed angst to create. And after a bit of rambling, I think what it boils down to is this - what you really need to produce good work (in my humble opinion) is emotion. Any kind of emotion. Not angst, necessarily. But raw, unfiltered emotion.

Edna Ferber said:

I think that to write well and convincingly, one must be somewhat poisoned by emotion. Dislike, displeasure, resentment, fault-finding, imagination, passionate remonstrance, a sense of injustice – they all make fine fuel.

Notice that these are almost all “negative” emotions. I think negative emotions are just easier to tap into – and they are probably easier to relate to as well. Not everyone has felt that rush you get when you first fall in love or the total rush of supreme happiness experienced when you've finally obtained a goal you've been working toward. But everyone, at some point in their lives, has been sad or hurt or scared.

Do I think all creative people need to dress in black and sit around brooding with a shot glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other?…no! Of course not! In fact, my writer friends are some of the funniest, happiest, goofiest people I know. We spend the vast majority of our time cracking each other up. But I do think a writer or artist has to have some kind of emotional background from which to draw.

So, what emotions drive me as a writer? This one is easy….all of them. If you read a scene in one of my books that is particularly depressing – well, I was probably feeling depressed that day. Or I heard a song that made me think of that one time where I was horribly hurt or heart broken and Ta-Da!!! Someone in my book is going to get shot (just kidding…well, sort of). And if you read an especially funny scene, I was probably in a really good mood that day.

Can I write a funny scene if I’m mad or depressed? – yes. But I guarantee you it will be funnier if I was in a good mood when I wrote it. Same with the opposite end of the spectrum. I can write a fairly convincing tear-jerker no matter what kind of mood I’m in – but it really helps if I’m bummed, or tapped into those bummed feelings, when my fingers hit the keys.

We'll talk about how I help myself get into the right writing mood next week :D

For now, I wanna know....what emotions drive you? Are the harsher, more angsty emotions easier for you to tap into, or are the humorous ones more your cup of tea? 

Oooo and here's a good question for you - does writing about a certain emotion create that emotion for you personally? Meaning, if you are sad when you sit down to write a funny scene, do you end up in a better mood by the time you are done? Or are your creative emotions completely separate from your personal emotions?

Food for Thought...and Writing

So you know that whole stereotypical writer? Angsty, broody, dressed in black, eccentric, moody, often an alcoholic or chain-smoker (or both)? Same goes for artist, sculptor - anyone in the arts. People hear that I'm a writer and they'll look at me (a mostly normal soccer mom) and say "wow, cool, I never would have guessed." I can't really blame them. I still have that stereotype visual in my head even though I and most of my friends are writers who don't fit that mold.

I was asked once if I thought creative people needed angst to create. And you know what, it's an interesting question.

Do I think creative people need angst?…. No. Do I think many creative people have angst (at least more than the average person)? ….. Yes. Do I need angst? …. I have no idea.

Angst can be defined as “A feeling of anxiety or apprehension often accompanied by depression…[and]…going through deep emotional and possibly physical pain .” For you visual folk, this is how I see it:

Angst:

No Angst:

I do tend to be more inspired by angst. Depression and sadness seem to draw the creativity out of me more than other emotions. (What this says about me I really don’t want to know…not sure I want to) :D The good news is, I don’t necessarily need the angst to be my own. I get very inspired by other people’s angst as well, like a really good, angsty song or movie. I guess I’d have to say, no, I don’t think creative people have to have angst in order to produce good work. But, I do think it helps.

Robert Penn Warren said:

The writer’s fundamental attempt is to understand the meaning of his own experiences. If he can’t break through those issues that concern him deeply, he’s not going to be very good.

I think this is what I try to do in my work. I wouldn’t describe it as “angst,” but I do dissect my experiences in order to serve up the most intense parts of them. And the more “angsty” emotions do tend to be the strongest, the ones that stick with me the most. For example, I was ecstatic at my wedding. It was a wonderful day. And then when my son was born, the love and joy I felt looking into his newborn eyes was beyond description.

But the experiences that are the easiest to delve into now, are the depressing ones, the sad, heartbreaking, fearful, adrenaline-filled, emotional ones. Though I remember the "good times" clearly, I have a hard time feeling that exact euphoria I felt at the best moments of my life. But I can feel the pain and anguish and rage and heat and desire and all consuming love or hate that I felt at the worst or most intense moments in my life at a moment’s notice – I just have to dip into the right memory.

This post is getting tremendously long, so I'll go into the whole emotion aspect more next week, but for now, let me ask you...

Do you think creative people need angst to create? Do you need it?