Month: April 2023

My Characters are Alive and Won’t Listen to What I Tell Them

Me when I start a writing session, ignorant of the defiance I am about to face Image by mohamed mahmouse hassan licensed under CC0
Me when I start a writing session, cocky and ignorant of the defiance I am about to face …
Image is licensed under CC0

So, I sit down, turn on my computer, pull up my story file, and start writing. All is well. What will I have my characters do today? Dialogue. Action. Characterization. Building a world from words. I’m king of this world. Everyone has to do what I say. Right?

Hang on. Why did Bob say that? I didn’t tell him to say that! Who does Bob think he is? I didn’t write him to be such a jerk!

And why is Tiffany suddenly a lot snarkier than I imagined her? And since when was Arnold so philosophical? I’m writing a thrilling adventure, not an excuse to sit around and contemplate our navels!

It’s happening again. My story is coming alive before my very eyes. And it does not recognize my authority.

It happens to the best of us. We outline our work, we prepare, we research, then we sit down and actually start writing – and it all gets away from us. Scenes don’t play out the way we planned them. Characters put words in our mouths, rather than the other way around. The story shifts and rumbles, it wakes up, and our creation becomes a living thing. IT’S ALIVE!

But how can this be? How can the imaginary have a will of its own?

Don’t look at me. All I know is that I had no idea Hermes liked tequila when I started writing A God Walks Up to the Bar.

They start talking to you, these characters. They start telling you their likes and dislikes, their hopes and fears. And when you acknowledge that they are real people, or as close to real as is possible, you reach an epiphany. Your story is better for it. Like the journalist who sits down for an interview with questions prepared and is sidetracked by the subject’s fascinating anecdotes, the population of your created universe reveals new and tantalizing quirks that flesh it out.

And lo, the author is revealed to not be master of his creations, but a mutt tailing behind their antics
fox writing with a quill pen by 50 Watts is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Still, it is somewhat bewildering when your story gets away from you. Even when your cast deigns to submit control back to you, you can’t always shake the feeling that you’re just along for the ride. You’re graciously being allowed to witness events as they unfold. A giddy experience, to be sure. I don’t entirely know what to expect when I begin a writing session. But doggone it, these folks need to have some respect! Stop pulling me off-track. We have a story to write! We have deadlines! I can’t be distracted by Alice’s unfolding tragic backstory and face the temptation of adding another 3,000 words! I’m writing genre fiction, not Les Misérables!

And so it goes. The writer lays the foundation, the characters give their input, I tell them what I want them to do, they push back, I push back, and somehow, out of this beautiful mess, a story is born.

I love being a writer.

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Finding Humanity in Greek Myth

Achilles was a paragon of ancient Greek heroes. He was nigh-unkillable, an unstoppable juggernaut on the battlefield, bloodthirsty, battle-hungry, feared and respected in equal measure. So, what did this warrior do when he ended up on the losing side of a quarrel with the Mycenaean king Agamemnon during the Trojan War?

He ran to his mommy to cry on her shoulder.

Yes, really.

For all its larger-than-life characters and some truly surreal stories, there is a basic spark of humanity in Greek myth. That’s why people love it, I think. Heroes fight and conquer, sure, but they also cry, get frustrated, get tired, and pine for their loved ones. They feel anger, joy, regret, fear, love, pride, and just about everything else. At their core they are, in fact, people. Just people. Like you and me.

Why do old myths endure? I believe it is because they share universal human themes that we empathize with, even when we’re looking at them from atop our perch in the 21st century. Who hasn’t wanted to find a shoulder to cry on after losing a bitter argument, like Achilles did? How can we not feel a twinge of sorrow for Orpheus, who, after journeying into the underworld to retrieve his beloved Eurydice, felt just that slightest bit of doubt on whether she would follow him back and risked a glance over his shoulder, dooming himself to lose her forever?

Beneath the layers of the fantastic are stories that are very much human. People experiencing the hard knocks of life. And like in real life, sometimes they triumph over adversity … and sometimes they don’t.

The funny thing is, the Greek gods have as much humanity in them as the humans they rule. Perhaps a bit too much, even. It make sense, because to the ancient Greeks, the gods were just people with special powers and their foibles and strengths cranked up till the knob broke off. When they get angry, they get VERY angry. When they are generous, they are VERY generous. They flit between emotions with ping-pong frenzy, changing moods in an eyeblink. Unpredictable? Yes. Cruel? Absolutely? Relatable? Well, just maybe.

Are you familiar with the smith god Hephaestus? He’s famous for being lame and crippled. Do you know how he was crippled? When his mother Hera and Zeus got into a fierce argument, he tried to intervene on her behalf. Zeus angrily tossed him out a window and off Mount Olympos. He fell a whole day before hitting the ground.

Well, that’s one version anyway.

A single story filled with things we can all relate to: parental love, anger, good intentions gone awry, even the specter of domestic abuse.

Maybe the Olympians really are too much like humanity.

They certainly are subject to quite a bit of criticism by today’s standards, and for good reason . The gods of Olympos are a bunch of arrogant, vindictive, oversexed, brutal, vengeful jerks. Get on their good side, and they’re your best friend. Get on their bad side – and there are oh-so-many ways to do that – and they’ll make you suffer.

And yet, don’t we see shades of ourselves in them? Maybe our dubious opinions of the Olympians come from seeing all-too human qualities in them. Maybe we get nervous at the thought of what we would do if we had absolute power and few restraints. Were the ancient Greeks projecting their own worst and best traits onto Zeus and company? Were they trying to craft an ideal, one that was blurred by shifting moral mores and the clashing of many different city-states with their own opinions on what constituted a “correct” society. Or did they witness a thunderstorm, imagine Zeus throwing his lightning bolts, and imagine that a god must be like them but just a bit MORE in every way?

On a sidenote, did you know that the human brain is trained to recognize the basic features of the human face? Look at a cloud or a rock or a splash of spilled soda on the sidewalk. Look hard, and your mind will find some way to see eyes, a nose, and a mouth.

How is that relevant? It’s what the Greeks did to nature. They gave it a face. They gave it humanity. Zeus is the storm and the sky. Hephaestus is the fire of the forge. Poseidon is the ocean and the earthquake. And that is barely scratching the surface. Every natural element and abstract concept you can imagine had a personified figure. It made them easier to understand and relate to. It probably made them easier to worship, too, when you knew that the object of your devotion was more than a vague, amorphous divine glob. And what we relate to, we empathize with.

Empathy is a natural building block of storytelling. We don’t tell stories about things we don’t care about. This mythology that endured from the Bronze Age all the way into the 21st century is one that resonates with us. It carries the spark of universal appeal.

Greek myths speak to us. They stir up emotions in ourselves because those are the emotions the characters feel. Their experiences are our experiences. Heroes and gods overcoming monsters. The triumph of overcoming great challenges. Going to war. Family drama. Romance. Tragedy. Comedy. Life.

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Sit Down, Shut up, and Do the Work

We’ve all been there. The nagging in the back of your mind telling you that you’ve skipped out long enough on finishing that one last chore. Time to write out that shopping list for the big party next weekend. Time to balance your budget. Time to write thank-you letters to everyone who sent you house-warming gifts. Time to do your taxes.

“But I don’t wanna!” you say. “I can do it tomorrow!”

Tomorrow! Tomorrow! There’s always tomorrow!

And tomorrow comes, and you say, “Naw, I don’t feel like it. I need to be in the right mood.”

Sit down, shut up, and do the work.

Knuckle down and buck up. Your taxes aren’t going to do themselves. Letter self-writing technology hasn’t been invented yet. And you must be lucky if you’re rich enough that you can’t balance your budget in one afternoon. Grab a pen, or power up the computer, and get cracking.

Little chores are like gnats. They hover about you, buzzing incessantly, annoying you with the fact of their incomplete existence. Leave too many of them unfinished, and you have a real swarm of tasks waiting for the inevitable. They have to get done.

“I don’t wanna!”

Yeah, but you gotta, don’t you?

Novels don’t write themselves, either. That great story that’s been brewing in your mind since you were twelve – nobody else is going to write it, are they?

But what about my favorite show coming on in ten minutes? What about that cool video game I just bought? What about a walk in the park on this great sunny day? What about …

Life is full of distractions. What you do with your time shows what you really value. Want to write a book? Or just want to pay off your taxes and then go to bed? Then do it. Don’t wait for the perfect moment. Those moments are rare and usually exaggerated by the now-successful author when he pens his autobiography. Hindsight makes everything look easy. There’s a direct correlation between effort put in and results achieved.

So it all comes down to this: Sit down, shut up, and do the work.

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