The trick with creative/narrative writing is to learn to show rather than tell. When it comes to character, sometimes we get hung up on telling the audience how the character looks and how the character feels rather than revealing who the character is through his/her actions and experiences (which is really how we truly get to know people in real life).
I think a good place to start is to think of all the different components that make up a person. You could begin by trying to define who you are as a person (or who your children or significant other are as people). Likely you will be overwhelmed with all of the different components that make you who you are (or what make them who they are). We have physical characteristics, personality traits, multiple roles that we play, motivations, thoughts, emotions, expectations, the actions we take, the ones we don't, and the ones we think we should have or should not have. Combined, these make a dynamic person that would be boring to describe all of the time but when revealed through action (i.e., dialogue, non-verbal communication, choices carried out, etc.) we have a realistic, intriguing, multi-dimensional character.
When writing a character, it helps to first plan out, profile, and picture the character in all his/her complexity to ensure that you actually have complexity. One thing to start with is to resist single-role/stereotypical characters that you can sum up in one sentence (i.e., "This character is the confident jock."). Instead, consider those paradoxes that exist in the people you have known through your own experiences (i.e., sometimes the people we meet who seem most confident actually have the most insecurities, or are only confident in certain circles or only about certain topics. Remove them from a situation, a group of people, etc. and they are completely different - thus, the person as a "confident jock" only makes up a slice of that character's full self. Perhaps he/she also has various anxieties, hobbies, dis/abilities, relationships, etc.).
What makes your character quirky? What makes him/her endearing? What makes him/her difficult to love at times? What is he/she proud of? What is he/she embarrassed about? What dreams or expectations does your character hold for him/herself? What motivates your character? What pet peeves would your character have? What personality traits does he/she possess? What experiences (traumatic, positive, etc.) has he/she had that really solidified or challenged those traits? Remember that it is okay (even good) to have conflicting characteristics (i.e., my character may be very patient with children but have a very short temper with strangers) as we are all contradictory from one situation to another. Check out this site for more questions you can ask yourself: http://www.writingforward.com/writing-prompts/creative-writing-prompts/character-driven-creative-writing-prompts
Once you've really thought about the dimensions of your character (and made some notes) you will want to put them into action. To reveal who your character really is (to show, not tell your readers) then you need to put them into a situation and see what they will do. Therefore, try the next challenge to practice showing your character's "self."
The Challenge:
Plan a character by thinking of the significant traits that make him/her a round, dynamic individual (you may already have one in mind). Show this dynamic character facing a moral dilemma in one scene. This scene may or may not include other people - it depends on what you want to reveal and how. Through the
conflict, reveal to your reader the character’s most significant traits. The character should interact and react with other objects
or people, the piece should not focus on describing the character physically.
If you don't know where to start with creating a dilemma or scene, consider what you know about your character (views on religion? political views? a fear? a naivety? an unrealistic expectation?) and try to create a conversation, a confrontation, an object, or an observation that would force the character to react (and thus reveal something about him/herself). If you still aren't sure, try out this site (under Creative Writing Prompts blue box) for interesting writing prompts that put your character in a creative conflict: http://www.pw.org/writing-prompts-exercises
If you don't know where to start with creating a dilemma or scene, consider what you know about your character (views on religion? political views? a fear? a naivety? an unrealistic expectation?) and try to create a conversation, a confrontation, an object, or an observation that would force the character to react (and thus reveal something about him/herself). If you still aren't sure, try out this site (under Creative Writing Prompts blue box) for interesting writing prompts that put your character in a creative conflict: http://www.pw.org/writing-prompts-exercises
Okay, this was all basically what I did with the story of the Dark Knight killer. I'll post this and then you can see if my character came out. I was going for someone relatable, which should be scary, because he is crazy and killed lots of people. I was going for someone who thought of himself as a higher ground sort of guy in the beginning, but who gets to the place at the end of the scene that makes him out to be a monster, and he is dealing with that fact by becoming angry and defensive. Trying to build back in the higher ground but aware that he is nothing but a big ball of pain at the end. I am really interested in your comments. Thanks for doing this! Let me know if you think this isn't sufficient for the assignment ;)
ReplyDelete(A man stands with shoulders slightly slumped, eyes open in an awkward fashion looking first at nothing, at the wall or floor a couple of rows down. He has a slight smirk on his face. Gradually, he allows his eyes to focus on one or two people close to the front of the room. It takes a bit before he starts talking at all)
I see all of you googling at me. (Pause) I’m not going to say anything to you. I don’t have to you know. You think I will, but the only way I say anything at all is if I—want—to—say—it. And I don’t. (pause) I have awkward pauses down too. (long pause. He looks around the audience evaluating who is there. Something makes him soften. He decides this is a friendly enough group). Whatever. I don’t know if I even care enough anymore to make my point. (Brief pause and a sigh. He lets his eyes return to a more normal state) I’m trying to make you realize why I hold my eyes like this. I’m trying to get you to see. I already see clearly; you are the ones who need the reminder. You are the ones who need to get your eyes open to what is going on around you. (Said in a somewhat mocking voice) “He’s crazy. Look at him up there. I can’t believe it. Who would have thought a boy like him could do something like that. Who’d of thunk it.” (Laughs subtly at his wording) I’ve known for a long time that this was something I would have to do. I didn’t really even have a choice. Really. The fact that you see it as a slaughter and I see it as a sacrifice (pause) is interesting. In the least. Well here it goes. Here’s the ‘Whys”. (pause) You asked for it.
I guess I was a normal enough kid. My mom loved me. I can’t blame this on her or on my dad or anything. They never spanked me at all, let alone whipped me with something crazy like a tree branch. (Said in a different voice) “My grandpa had to pick out his own switch for the whipping his dad gave him.” That shit is crazy. (chuckles again.) I hate to think what I would have been capable had that happened. Or something like the gross old man scenario. You know the one. He lures young boys over to his house with candy to suck cock. Crazy bastards. I guess even though that stuff didn’t happen to me directly, the fact that it does happen every day, every minute, all over the world, is part of my formula that I was faced to use when making my sacrifice. But good things are there too you know. I wouldn’t want to make you all think that everything has a negative element in my formula. There were ‘protons’ too. You know, “Pro-tons”. That is the “science major” element of my personality taking stage now.
Part two: So good times--- I remember one time going hiking with my dad in the mountains near my home. It was just him and me and we were so happy. (He pauses and smiles at the awkward rhyming of the last sentence.) Just some cokes and a couple of tootsie rolls stuffed in my Levi pockets and my dad and me in the old ford truck. It was one of those beautiful spring days. It was the breath of fresh air that everything needed. People are one thing, people always need fresh air—but this day represented that time of year when the leaves are just turning around from the winter slumber of frost and the grass is just starting to waken into the green color of health. The rocks, once heavy with snow, finally get to breath fresh air again. You get the idea. You understand the relief that was everywhere around us, on the breeze, in the ground, in the sky. It was so still. My eyes still want to choke me up when I think about it. It was like the world was spinning slower just so I could feel it more. Now that I know what the THC effect does, I can say it was kind of like that hallucination effect. Where the leaves of the tree are illuminated with moonbeam firefly lights and the edges of the colors all around pop with life. It was a day when I could see the beauty all around, with my dad by my side. I experienced just truly a natural high. I felt the peace of it all, orbiting around me. I can still call it back—every now and then.
ReplyDelete(He notices the facial expressions of the crowd and something makes him second guess the direction he was going. The feelings he just admitted to are not what he wanted to express anymore).
But now you are all looking at me like, “what in the hell is wrong with you.” You are googling again. Googling is a funny word because it used to just mean starring intently. Now it means that you are getting out your smart phones and reading about my history to see if I am lying. Anyway stop it. I know you are thinking “how can you even claim to feel love and peace when you are capable of such horror, such violence. Innocent killings at such an innocent location…” Well, my friends, is death really the worst thing? Not knowing it was coming, quickly passing out of the pain. Just sitting back and enjoying the last moments of your life before you die. Slaughter? There are worse things people. Way worse. Millions of people are starving to death, dying, literally, for a drink of water. There are sexual slaves in our own country; who is talking about them? Who even cares anymore. So young 11 year old girls are chained to beds and raped countless times during the day, drugged and abused until they die. Huh. The Olympics are on.
Part three: War, torture, pain, injustice, beatings, abuse; all of it venom for the spirit and the body. All of it killing us in small doses every day. We are all slowly being swallowed up in this pain all around us and no one will say anything about it at all. We all just go along, doing our thing, closing our eyes to the reality of it all. All hunky dorrey, all kicks and giggles, all base with what we are and who we have become, until the world just splits in front of our eyes. They were watching a movie, people. Eating a tub of popcorn and drinking a giant cold Americanized coke, laughing, being thrilled, not thinking at all about the venom poisoning them every day, every minute. Just staring at the big screen. Sounds like a good way to go.
ReplyDeleteLook, I just want people to realize that these boxes that society places us in are not that great. The boxes are flawed. We aren’t meant to be closed up like that, squared away in the same boring cardboard shape. Row after row after row. Nothing but empty boxes. Do you know how many sayings from how many professors are exactly the same? How many lines in a text are repeats of the same thought process? We live in a world that shouts to us all, ‘think about this, but only to this line right here. And think about it just like the person next to you is thinking.’ This is the line you are meant to go to, the path you are supposed to take. (Mockingly sings the next part) “Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky tac, little boxes on the hillside, little boxes all the same.” I couldn’t take that closed off feeling anymore. The fact that we can’t think about what is real. Can’t face the realization of what is really going on out there. Why is it that you are looking at me like I am the crazy one, the psycho, when it is you who won’t just open up your damn eyes and see your own reality; you are closing your eyes to your own death by poison. People all around the world are in pain, dying, starving, hurting each other in every way they can think of. Hunting. Sometimes the pain quickly happens, and relief is brought soon, but mostly it is a slow, painful, process through low doses. And you want to freak out about a handful of victims, who were dying anyway because they couldn’t see the press of the machine coming down on their heads. I gave you a gift. I made you stop and face the horror that is all around us. I couldn’t make anyone see it clearly like I could without putting the lights out, taking a gun, and literally pounding one into someone’s head. Why random? Because they are symbols for all of you. You should be able to picture yourself in their shoes, you should realize that, “wow, the world is a pretty fucked up, crazy place, and no one is doing anything about it at all.” And that should be a problem. A big problem. Why is it that such a blatant reality is so easily ignored by everyone? Is it because that thought goes beyond the imaginary line we are told to process to? I am sorry, but no one should be closing their eyes to this. Open your eyes people. Get out of the box you call reality and face what is going on out there! Your little cardboard shell isn’t going to protect you, at all. A simple bullet can pierce you like butter. I showed you that pain and death are out there for all of us. I sacrificed my life, my future, to make you face something directly. Stop watching the movie of life pass through the reel, and face what is really out there. Do you see it yet? Can you see what I am saying? Has even one flap of the box opened up for you? (pause) Well, my eyes are open. (He opens his eyes back to how they were during the first few lines.) Its as clear as day.
(Lights out.)