Lights. Character. Action.
Creator: Giovanni Cariani, circa 1510 | Credit: Wikimedia Commons
“Ultimately, characters are vessels of emotion, bearing the weight of our fears, hopes, and desires. It is through them that we forge our deepest psychological connections.”
It is safe to say that being a creative requires the ability to set aside selfish considerations yet consistently champion your voice. It is a paradox—a seemingly self-contradictory statement.
But it proves useful when looking at character development.
So, how do you create memorable and powerful characters?
I’ve had the chance to put a few theories into practice over the course of my writing career. Trials and errors. Fictitious conversations with imaginary figures. Rewrites. The scribbles of a madman on a Think Board (don’t sue me if I forget the trademark)…
My main line of thinking was: how do I create characters who couldn’t easily be figured out while still providing layers to peel off (for your consideration)?
In my quest for stronger characterization (what defines your characters at the onset) and character development (how characters evolve based on the circumstances), I MAY have cracked the code.
There are two things to consider, really.
First, the prompts. Second, how the subsequent answers will be used in your stories.
I usually ask myself three questions while setting the process of shaping and molding my characters in motion.
What do they fear?
What do they want?
What’s their deepest secret?
Let’s take Michael Hoover, for instance. As seen in America is a Zoo, he is a CIA field officer working under the Political Action Group (PAG) and involved in a string of targeted killings that may or may not be tied to the main protagonist and his dealings.
Won’t spoil. I plead the Fifth.
Interesting premise, right? So, how do I drive this forward?
What does he fear?
Nothing. Michael struggles with contained psychotic episodes and dissociative identity disorder (DID). He often consults with an imaginary friend, somewhere in his fragmented mind. Notably, he also lacks the ability to fear. I topped it up with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) to add flair and magnify his occupational hazards (imagine feeling compelled to rearrange the knives that could eventually cut you). Lacking the ability to fear is his downfall, though; fearing nothing is exposing yourself to everything.
What does he want?
One of his personalities, the most prevalent one, wants to solve the problems of the world, to understand, to be “in” on the wildest plans. That, sometimes, can make him appear as an altruist or a vigilante (surprising for such a morally gray archetype, right?).
What’s his deepest secret?
His mental illness. A specific set of conditioning exercises and prototype drugs allow him to effectively conceal his condition from his employers. An abnormally high IQ led him to beat all cognitive and behavioral tests, as well as the most thorough psychological evaluations. He sees patterns, and they serve him.
We have answered our three prompts. Step back and appreciate the scale for a few.
You see now? I have strong arguments and elements for crafting this character’s actions, behaviors, tactics, strategies, responses, and beliefs.
Some of those characteristics won’t necessarily be revealed to the readership. Through his actions, Michael Hoover will sometimes suggest things rather than demonstrate or explain them (it’s called subtext in acting).
This, right here, is the key/core of strong characterization and character development.
Once you establish that, the pages become your movie set; avenues of approach are set ablaze—beautiful, shiny vectors you see appear before your eyes as you scream…
…Speed. Marker. Action!
