The Most Important Part...
I mostly wrote this to help myself figure out what the best principle for writing is for myself, but I decided that there was some value in this spiel that others might appreciate. Enjoy!
The most important part of a story, in my opinion, is the characters—the characters, their arcs, their relationships, their interactions within those relationships, their traumas, their challenges, their dilemmas, their choices, the consequences of their actions, their thoughts, feelings, and emotions, their conflicts, their hopes and dreams, their fears, their doubts, their worries, the lies they tell themselves, the truths they have to teach their writers and their readers. Everything else in a story—the plot, the setting, the action, the prose—all of it is supplemental, and exists solely to support the characters' growth, arcs, and journeys.
Some characters, like Frodo and Sam from The Lord of the Rings, have to go on fourteen-month journeys to find out who they truly are and save their entire world.
Others, like Mirabel from Encanto, need to stay home for a few days to figure out what is going on within their own family so they can heal the cracks and rifts between family members.
Some characters have to fight wars to protect the things they love most. Some lose everything, and in their search to find new meaning and purpose in their lives, regain more than they lost. Some don't know who they are, and wander for many miles and many years before they finally figure out what they were missing and return to the place they should stay. Some characters are locked in a battle with their own heritage and bloodline—born to evil, they seek to do good, but struggle against impulses they can't wholly control. Some characters struggle with deep insecurities, and cope by seeking great power and control over others in order to feel some semblance of control over their own lives.
And this makes sense. In an eternal context, this is true of our world too. Our earth was created, not for the sake of itself, but for the sake of the people living upon it. Our societies have developed, risen, and fallen based on the people living inside them. Our communities, and the events that occur within them, are caused by the actions of people. Everything about our world, our lives, our human experience, is caused by people, for people, because of people.
But people do not exist in a vacuum. We influence one another, impact each other's lives, bring about great change in one another. If a person existed alone on a deserted island, even if supplied with everything they would ever need to live, they would eventually go mad and crack from loneliness and lack of connection. We need relationships and deep human connection to survive, and the deeper those relationships, the better.
So is it any surprise that some of the best stories are the ones that are wholly about the people in them? Is it any wonder that the D&D campaigns that are most fun to watch on YouTube are the ones where the players and DM understand the characters they're playing so well that they can put aside the decisions they would naturally make, and the decisions that are “best” from a standpoint of competition and winning or losing a battle, and instead slip fully into their character, immerse themselves in the world, and make the decisions their character would make given the circumstances and the knowledge available? Is it any wonder that the movies that hit us hardest in our feels are the ones whose characters we come to care about on a deep emotional level, to the point that challenges and pains to those characters cause a similar, empathetic pain within us?
Stories aren't about the plot or the world, the magic system or the politics. Though those things are very important, they are important because of the way they affect the characters we care about. What reason do I have to care that there is a highstorm coming unless I know that Kaladin, a character who I care about very much, is being strung up by his ankles on a roof as a land-borne tsunami with thunder and lightning is bearing down toward him? What reason do I have to care that Casita is cracking unless I know how much it matters to Mirabel and her family, and care about them and their lives enough to have it impact me? What reason do I have to care that there is someone seeking to open the demon prison and let its inmates out unless I know how it will affect Kendra and Seth, their families, and everyone else they have or will ever care about?
So what makes a reader, a viewer, a listener, care about the character they are learning about? How is it that a character can be likeable without making the reader care about what happens to them, while even as unsympathetic a character as Ebenezer Scrooge can become a beloved figure? Why do we care about Maleficent and the Princess and hate the King, when we would feel very differently had the story been told from any other perspective?
And why do some characters hit some people right in the feels, but irritate or even enrage others?
There is a saying in the writing community that goes something like, “Every person is the main character in their own story.” We usually mean this as a neat way to say that every person's actions have reasons behind them, and even if those reasons aren't good reasons to anyone else, they're good enough for that character. Each person's motivations and decisions make sense to them. Every person struggles with the consequences of their actions, and the consequences of the actions of those around them.
Every person has experienced loss, sadness, anger, fear, pain, regret, even if in the smallest of ways. As a result, we all understand, to some degree or another, what it is like to be ostracized, to be different, to want to fit in, to have insecurities and fears, to hurt, to be angry, to grieve. Another trite saying in the writing community states, “Write what you know.” But especially in the realm of fantasy, we don't know what it's like to fly on a dragon, to be healed by a unicorn, to look a phoenix in the eye or to be caught in the clutches of a griffin. We don't know what it's like to burn in a volcano (any real-life people who would know are usually dead). We don't know what it's like to use magic of any form. But we do know what it's like to be human—and that part of story will never change so long as the story is written for a human audience.
Across cultures, societies, ethnicities, social classes, and life experiences, the basic experience of being human is the same. I know what it's like to break my arm; thus, when a character falls off a cliff and breaks every bone in their body, I can imagine, roughly, what they're experiencing by recalling the pain of that broken bone and multiplying it across my entire body. I know what it's like to lose a beloved pet and friend; as a result, while I don't know exactly what it's like to lose a beloved family member, I do know what loss is like, and I can imagine and extrapolate an idea of the experience of losing a sister or a mother or a child well enough to write about it. I may not know anyone personally who I actually hate—but there are certainly people with whom I do not get along, and I know what it is like to be angry. It is not a huge step from there to imagine what true animosity and hatred toward another might feel like.
It is this universality of the human experience that gives the creators of story the ability to create characters that people will relate to, love, or hate. This takes a great deal of practice and skill—it is easy to do it wrong and create a character who is too much a mash of different qualities and characteristics, or else who is not fleshed out well enough and so feels flat and dull. If we do not include enough of a character's feelings, motivations, and the logic behind their actions, their story can feel distant and pointless because we do not really understand why we should care about this person. To make a character feel real and relatable, we have to tap into and connect to what it is like to be that person, and describe their experience to the reader well enough that even someone who has had no similar experiences can understand, relate to, and love that character.
As a very wise character written by Orson Scott Card once said (paraphrased), “In order to defeat my enemy, I must first understand them; but in understanding them, I also come to love them.” Even the most evil villain can become sympathetic and lovable once we understand where they are coming from and why they do what they do. We may not agree with their choices, and may still agree that the best end for them is the one where they die or are locked away forever—but we can also often agree that had the villain's life gone differently, we would have loved to spend time with them, get to know them better, and be their friend.
But there is one other factor that influences how characters are perceived, and this is the life experience of each individual person who gets to enter into the character's story. For some people, a character whom others would find relatable, if villainous, becomes a hateful symbol of someone they once knew, a person in their life who treated them badly and left them with a great deal of mental and emotional scarring. For some, a Mary-Sue-type character is an inspiring symbol of who they want to become and what they want to achieve; for others, the same character is boring, trite, and irritating because they are too perfect.
So, how do we harness this power to make our every character someone that our audience will relate to and love? Frankly, I don't have much advice; the process, tips, and tricks will be different for every character in every story, and for every creator who builds the story. Some people fill out complex, detailed questionnaires to figure out how their characters will respond in any given situation; others follow their gut and discover who their characters are along the way. Most fall somewhere in between.
In general, I believe in learning the principles behind why characters are lovable, hateable, relatable, or something else entirely, and then experimenting on one's own to find out what works for them. The best advice I can give is to study the stories and characters that greatly impact you. What are the features of those stories and characters that hit you the hardest? Why? How can you emulate that in your own creations? Study it out for yourself—what you find may be insightful.
Some characters, like Frodo and Sam from The Lord of the Rings, have to go on fourteen-month journeys to find out who they truly are and save their entire world.
Others, like Mirabel from Encanto, need to stay home for a few days to figure out what is going on within their own family so they can heal the cracks and rifts between family members.
Some characters have to fight wars to protect the things they love most. Some lose everything, and in their search to find new meaning and purpose in their lives, regain more than they lost. Some don't know who they are, and wander for many miles and many years before they finally figure out what they were missing and return to the place they should stay. Some characters are locked in a battle with their own heritage and bloodline—born to evil, they seek to do good, but struggle against impulses they can't wholly control. Some characters struggle with deep insecurities, and cope by seeking great power and control over others in order to feel some semblance of control over their own lives.
And this makes sense. In an eternal context, this is true of our world too. Our earth was created, not for the sake of itself, but for the sake of the people living upon it. Our societies have developed, risen, and fallen based on the people living inside them. Our communities, and the events that occur within them, are caused by the actions of people. Everything about our world, our lives, our human experience, is caused by people, for people, because of people.
But people do not exist in a vacuum. We influence one another, impact each other's lives, bring about great change in one another. If a person existed alone on a deserted island, even if supplied with everything they would ever need to live, they would eventually go mad and crack from loneliness and lack of connection. We need relationships and deep human connection to survive, and the deeper those relationships, the better.
So is it any surprise that some of the best stories are the ones that are wholly about the people in them? Is it any wonder that the D&D campaigns that are most fun to watch on YouTube are the ones where the players and DM understand the characters they're playing so well that they can put aside the decisions they would naturally make, and the decisions that are “best” from a standpoint of competition and winning or losing a battle, and instead slip fully into their character, immerse themselves in the world, and make the decisions their character would make given the circumstances and the knowledge available? Is it any wonder that the movies that hit us hardest in our feels are the ones whose characters we come to care about on a deep emotional level, to the point that challenges and pains to those characters cause a similar, empathetic pain within us?
Stories aren't about the plot or the world, the magic system or the politics. Though those things are very important, they are important because of the way they affect the characters we care about. What reason do I have to care that there is a highstorm coming unless I know that Kaladin, a character who I care about very much, is being strung up by his ankles on a roof as a land-borne tsunami with thunder and lightning is bearing down toward him? What reason do I have to care that Casita is cracking unless I know how much it matters to Mirabel and her family, and care about them and their lives enough to have it impact me? What reason do I have to care that there is someone seeking to open the demon prison and let its inmates out unless I know how it will affect Kendra and Seth, their families, and everyone else they have or will ever care about?
So what makes a reader, a viewer, a listener, care about the character they are learning about? How is it that a character can be likeable without making the reader care about what happens to them, while even as unsympathetic a character as Ebenezer Scrooge can become a beloved figure? Why do we care about Maleficent and the Princess and hate the King, when we would feel very differently had the story been told from any other perspective?
And why do some characters hit some people right in the feels, but irritate or even enrage others?
There is a saying in the writing community that goes something like, “Every person is the main character in their own story.” We usually mean this as a neat way to say that every person's actions have reasons behind them, and even if those reasons aren't good reasons to anyone else, they're good enough for that character. Each person's motivations and decisions make sense to them. Every person struggles with the consequences of their actions, and the consequences of the actions of those around them.
Every person has experienced loss, sadness, anger, fear, pain, regret, even if in the smallest of ways. As a result, we all understand, to some degree or another, what it is like to be ostracized, to be different, to want to fit in, to have insecurities and fears, to hurt, to be angry, to grieve. Another trite saying in the writing community states, “Write what you know.” But especially in the realm of fantasy, we don't know what it's like to fly on a dragon, to be healed by a unicorn, to look a phoenix in the eye or to be caught in the clutches of a griffin. We don't know what it's like to burn in a volcano (any real-life people who would know are usually dead). We don't know what it's like to use magic of any form. But we do know what it's like to be human—and that part of story will never change so long as the story is written for a human audience.
Across cultures, societies, ethnicities, social classes, and life experiences, the basic experience of being human is the same. I know what it's like to break my arm; thus, when a character falls off a cliff and breaks every bone in their body, I can imagine, roughly, what they're experiencing by recalling the pain of that broken bone and multiplying it across my entire body. I know what it's like to lose a beloved pet and friend; as a result, while I don't know exactly what it's like to lose a beloved family member, I do know what loss is like, and I can imagine and extrapolate an idea of the experience of losing a sister or a mother or a child well enough to write about it. I may not know anyone personally who I actually hate—but there are certainly people with whom I do not get along, and I know what it is like to be angry. It is not a huge step from there to imagine what true animosity and hatred toward another might feel like.
It is this universality of the human experience that gives the creators of story the ability to create characters that people will relate to, love, or hate. This takes a great deal of practice and skill—it is easy to do it wrong and create a character who is too much a mash of different qualities and characteristics, or else who is not fleshed out well enough and so feels flat and dull. If we do not include enough of a character's feelings, motivations, and the logic behind their actions, their story can feel distant and pointless because we do not really understand why we should care about this person. To make a character feel real and relatable, we have to tap into and connect to what it is like to be that person, and describe their experience to the reader well enough that even someone who has had no similar experiences can understand, relate to, and love that character.
As a very wise character written by Orson Scott Card once said (paraphrased), “In order to defeat my enemy, I must first understand them; but in understanding them, I also come to love them.” Even the most evil villain can become sympathetic and lovable once we understand where they are coming from and why they do what they do. We may not agree with their choices, and may still agree that the best end for them is the one where they die or are locked away forever—but we can also often agree that had the villain's life gone differently, we would have loved to spend time with them, get to know them better, and be their friend.
But there is one other factor that influences how characters are perceived, and this is the life experience of each individual person who gets to enter into the character's story. For some people, a character whom others would find relatable, if villainous, becomes a hateful symbol of someone they once knew, a person in their life who treated them badly and left them with a great deal of mental and emotional scarring. For some, a Mary-Sue-type character is an inspiring symbol of who they want to become and what they want to achieve; for others, the same character is boring, trite, and irritating because they are too perfect.
So, how do we harness this power to make our every character someone that our audience will relate to and love? Frankly, I don't have much advice; the process, tips, and tricks will be different for every character in every story, and for every creator who builds the story. Some people fill out complex, detailed questionnaires to figure out how their characters will respond in any given situation; others follow their gut and discover who their characters are along the way. Most fall somewhere in between.
In general, I believe in learning the principles behind why characters are lovable, hateable, relatable, or something else entirely, and then experimenting on one's own to find out what works for them. The best advice I can give is to study the stories and characters that greatly impact you. What are the features of those stories and characters that hit you the hardest? Why? How can you emulate that in your own creations? Study it out for yourself—what you find may be insightful.
If focusing on character works for you as a writer, by all means do. And I've seen enough of your entries here and comments elsewhere to know you know what you're doing. I just want to add that all the other elements have their points. Dialog is a great way to express the characterization. World-building is a good way to come up with something unique. (Unique characterizations are rare and difficult. Miles Vorkosigan, Sherlock Holmes...how many others?) Plot helps keep the events plausible, and the narrative on course towards some kind of resolution.
ReplyDeleteBut it's all good. :) -Kevin