Writing Characters I Don't Like

I don't always like my characters.

Is that weird? I don't know how it is for other authors, but I tend to go where the story is, and sometimes this leads me to share headspace with some people who are just irritating or downright offensive. I'd like to think this helps me cultivate empathy, but it's also really, really annoying. It can also be difficult to try to wrap my mind around a viewpoint that's far, far removed from mine. If that's part of the story, though, that's my job, so I do my best and let the chips fall where they may.

The Other Man is a title near and dear to my heart, though I can't say I'm overly fond of Andrew, the main character. He's blue collar working man and I've grown up in a family of those, so you'd think that'd give him some leeway with me. Nope. His desire to conform, his hunger for the typical, apple-pie American dream, his constant excuses for why he's the victim in his situation, his condescension of others - even his own family, and his paranoid worry about people who aren't like him...it was hard to write, to say the least, especially knowing what was coming with the ending and how it could potentially be viewed.

 The idea of a man unnerved by his wife liking a particular rock star actually came from personal experience - I've known a few people who have actually had to end relationships because their significant others didn't agree with their taste in something or other. One in particular actually broke up with their significant other because of a singer they'd never met, never interacted with, but happened to like a lot. It wasn't to the point of being unhealthy of obsessive, but their partner made a constant deal about feeling like they were living with the singer and didn't measure up. I showed my friend the manuscript before I ever considered publishing it, and thankfully they have a sense of humor and loved it, even if the overall situation was far different than theirs. Still, what the ever-lovin' heck have we come to if we have to bully a person over their musical tastes? It's still a surreal thought to me.

 I've had the experience where I felt like I was being changed or encouraged to change so the other person would be more comfortable, to the point where I just didn't feel like myself anymore. It's a horrible feeling, one I never want to revisit. I really wanted to play with this overall idea, but I also didn't want to make it a gag or a gimmick or some punchline at the end. There is a twist, but hopefully the reveal is  a release of tension and a moment of epiphany and not a gimmick. I'd hate for it to be viewed that way, because at the end of the day, I think we all hide parts of ourselves. Andrew just does it in a very vehement, spiteful way.

Maybe he irritates me because I can understand being disillusioned. You know how it is, we're filled with all these notions as kids to the point we think we can conquer the world as teens, and then we have the rug pulled out from under us. Maybe my discomfort is that I have to acknowledge that I get Andrew's general frustration, even if I don't agree with his motives. I think that helps, though, it keeps him entitled but not a complete monster, or at least hopefully helps the reader look at him with disappointment rather than all-out hatred. He's a good talking point for a character: at what point do we have to get over our life frustrations and try to do the best we can, to what point do we have a right to be disenchanted with how our lives have gone?

His family doesn't make it easy on him, mind you. Granted, they're not terrible, but young kids are weird, and I may have based some of their behavior off mine as a kidlet to make things extra weird. You're welcome. His wife is Ivy League but opted to be a stay-at-home mom, a decision he never quite stopped resenting, because his own background is somewhat less in his eyes. It's an interesting dichotomy, he sees her as above him, worries about what secrets she may harbor, but also knows how to press her buttons, even though everything seems to press his. He's interesting, Andrew. He's irritating and I disagree with his fatalistic attitude, his black-and-white clear cut view of the world, his judgment of people. I disagree with him and he angers me at times....but oddly, I'm glad I wrote him, because he's also, hopefully, a character that will leave people thinking and talking.  If he got me thinking about how I could be a better person and how I can better channel my frustrations, hopefully he can do the same for others. Plus, his kids are hilarious and amazing, so there's got to be some potential in him somewhere.

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When you're smiling....

I love to laugh. I actually love to laugh a lot and if someone can make me laugh they are my instant bestie. When there is a character that makes me laugh, I'm instantly in love. Lately, I've been in a dark place when it comes to writing. All angsty, kill a few characters, deep thoughts kind of writing. Now, I have a macabre sense of humor and can also find funny things in what some find extremely morbid but I haven't even tapped into that lately.

So it was with great surprise that while planning out a story, one little line from a character popped into my head. This was going to be a disposable character that I hadn't taken the time to develop. I was going to use him as a place setter to help flesh out something between the hero and heroine. He was lacking completely in physical description, but then he whispered that line as I was jotting down notes, and he became the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. It was a magical transformation and because of his wit I decided he needed to have a story all his own.

I'm sure some will see this as just transference of my subconscious utilizing a character of my imagination to express latent humor I needed to ground myself emotionally...um that got really clinical. Anyhoo, the point is, it may seem odd that a character I made up could make me desire him more, but tis true and I'm very grateful for him. I'm sure when I finish writing this cheeky bugger you'll be grateful too.

Janet

The Story vs. The Writer

Mocha Memoirs Press's thriller writer, Jessica Housand-Weaver, knows a thing or two about story. Her tale, THE SCREAM OF THE SIREN, sent shrivers and frightened readers and critics alike. In her blog post below, she discusses the orgins of her stories and characters.
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The Story vs. The Writer
by Jessica Housand-Weaver

After reading a great story, we are left with a sense of anticlimax and disappointment that it has ended. No matter how awesome the ending, we hunger to be immersed further in the storyworld. This leads to a certain fascination with the writer. We feel close to them because we have been privy to what exists in their mind. We empathize with the writer and desire to continue the dialogue.

We want to ask: how did you create such an absorbing story? Or in the case of some horror writers, who, as creators of such terrible worlds, seem even creepier than their stories—what is wrong with you?

How much of writing is fact and fiction has been the speculation of readers for centuries. This speculation, which helps bring readers, writers, and characters together, is almost as enjoyable as the story itself. Like the ‘mad scientist’ stereotype, or the ‘unstable artist’ (think Van Gogh), writers truly are a basket case class of their own. Surely, a ‘normal’ person, or one with ‘normal’ experiences, could not concoct the sheer complexity and twists involved in storywriting.

I concur, with just a slight modification—a ‘normal’ person would not want to.

We writers are not ‘right; in the head. By this, I mean, we are swamped left and right in our
minds with ideas, experiences, and possibilities that we just have to tell you. We have a communication
disorder of a sort, a kind of communomania. We are strangers who share intimate secrets with our
readers without ever speaking or touching. We enjoy the solitude of our communication artform but
need to connect with you; in fact, we can’t stop.

Our characters are complex conglomerations of fact and exaggerative fiction. They are all of you, all the people we have ever loved or despised in the upgraded 2.0 story version. We build off of the emotions, personalities, and experiences we have had in our lives and decorate them a little bit to make them more palatable, especially for readers longing for something a little different and less mundane than their everyday life experiences. In essence, we are escape artists… and we are taking you with us.

As a writer, it can be a little amusing (even awkward) when family members, friends, or readers ask questions about my personal life after reading a piece like my thriller, The Scream of the Siren, published last year by Mocha Memiors Press. Readers want to know, who the characters are really. They find certain physical or name traits of individuals that appear to match up with the characters in the story. A favorite character to do this with has proven to be the love-maddened antagonist in The Scream of the Siren, Alejandro. Readers wonder if he is based off of a real person; my husband sometimes gets funny looks.

Again, I like to think of my characters as pieces, little pieces of anyone who has ever made an impression in my life, taken completely out of context, and mashed up into one juxtaposed mess that I then interject with all the things I have to tell you (remember, I suffer from communomania). While some aspects of the story, the main character, and even Alejandro do have very strong parallels in my real life experiences, writing is, in the end, what I like to refer to as quantum communication—sharing with you pieces of possibilities out of what already exists.