Author: Jake W. Powell

Writing Characters You Don’t Agree With

Writing characters require us to dive into their heads and figure out their backstories, beliefs, and personalities. It’s a fun diversion in and of itself to discover a character, much less to incorporate those discoveries into a greater narrative. Learning more about our protagonists can make us as attached to them as we hope our readers will be.

But what about writing people who are … less than agreeable? Or worse, who don’t share our values and principles? What about writing those whose motivations and beliefs are diametrically opposed to our own? What is it like to dig around in the head of someone who we don’t agree with?

It can feel almost like a betrayal of ourselves. He can’t say that, I don’t believe in it! She can’t do this, it’s not part of who I am! But putting yourself into your writing doesn’t necessarily mean you are your writing. You are creating a world with words, and that world will be filled with a motley mix of individuals who all possess their own strong personalities.

This can apply to antagonists and villains, but really, it includes any character you write. They play roles in a story, and sometimes those roles require them to be someone drastically different from yourself. Can that be awkward? Sure. Maybe there’s the nagging feeling in the back of your head that writing a character who deviates from your own worldview is somehow condoning things you don’t agree with. But if the story demands it and it develops your world, then it must be done. It’s not betrayal, it’s the mark of a maturing writer. I write people who do and say things I don’t personally find tasteful, but which do fit their own personality. I’m not that person. They’re a work of fiction, after all.

Besides, characters who disagree with you are likely to disagree with other characters, and that creates conflict. And conflict is how you keep a story going.

Even if you don’t agree with a character, they’re still yours and serve a purpose in the story. So, roll up your sleeves and figure out what to do with them. The first thing is to put yourself into their shoes. Think like them for a bit, practice seeing the world through different eyes. How do they feel about this thing or that other individual? How do they feel about your protagonist? Why?

Learning a bit of empathy and a bit about other worldviews certainly helps, as does reading good literature and learning from example how other authors write. It’s valuable to learn how to write characters whose voice and opinions don’t echo your own. Why? Because it is too easy to put yourself into every character and have everyone essentially act and believe as you do. And that makes a story boring and predictable.

And besides, for all that characters have a habit of taking on a life of their own, you are ultimately the final authority here. Like a director herding meddlesome actors, you learn to work with your cast and guide them toward your vision.

Ultimately, story is king. It comes first, and we do what we must to tell it. It’s all part of growing as writers.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Writing Jerks

Why do jerks seem worse than villains? Villains are grand and powerful and fierce and evil. They deserve our disdain. But jerks are just plain petty. What’s worse? A dictator bent on conquering a nation, or a man who keys your car because you bumped him in the parking lot? Well, the former, obviously, but the latter certainly seems to steam people a heck of a lot more.

But I’m not here today to talk about “why’s,” but rather “how’s.” Namely: How do you write a jerk protagonist so that he’s likeable?

Think about it for a moment, writers. There are plenty of villains that people like. I’ve even written about it in a previous post. Mass murderers? Evil tyrants? Amoral thieves? They’ve all got fans. They’ve all got that special something called charisma. People will forgive a lot if you have charisma.

But jerks? They’re personal to the audience. We may never have met a murderer or a dictator (hopefully), but we all know a few knuckleheads with attitudes who stoop to the lowliest of cheap shots. Spend a week in customer service and you’ll meet jerks on the regular. They come in all flavors, but they all have something in common.

THEY AREN’T LIKEABLE.

Thus, going back to my first question, is there a way to write a protagonist who is unpleasant, rude, and otherwise just plain mean, and still make that character someone the audience can enjoy? Well, yes and no. The main thing about writing jerks is that if you keep them that way from start to finish, chances are you’re shooting yourself in the foot.

Consider a classic example of jerkdom in literature: A Christmas Carol’s Ebenezer Scrooge. A miserly, heartless, soulless businessman who has no mercy or pity for the poor. He’s on the up-and-up – he’s an honest man in the original story, believe it or not – but he has no redeeming traits. At first. The entire story is about Scrooge’s character development into a better person. And that’s the key to writing jerks: They shouldn’t still be jerks by the end of the story.

Side characters can stay jerks. Antagonists, of course, can remain jerks. But the protagonist should not remain static at the best of times. They evolve and mature. And if they start out as jerks and bullies, then they should show some sort of marked improvement by story’s end. Less of a jerk, kinder, more patient. Like Scrooge, they should learn something. There is nothing stopping you from writing a protagonist who remains the same come the conclusion, but if they were nasty and unlikeable to begin with, you risk leaving your audience with a sour last impression.

On the other hand, maybe the jerk not changing is the point. Maybe this is a more cynical piece, an introspective look into what makes a meanie tick – or maybe it’s just a comedy. Well, there is a way to make the audience side with the jerk, and that’s to introduce an even bigger jerk to square off against. Have a protagonist who’s belligerent and petty? Bring in someone else who’s even more so. It worked for British sitcom Fawlty Towers. Basil Fawlty is a Class-A Jerk through and through, but he frequently dances with people even worse than he is. See for yourself.

We like someone to root for, you see. If we’re given two flavors of unpleasantness, we’re naturally going to compare them. And if one is slightly less bad than the other, we’ll favor that one and despise the other. The lesser of two jerks, if you will.

There are those rare occasions where your story doesn’t require that the protagonist change for the better, or circumstances dictate that there isn’t a worse character to compare against. So, what to do? Well, you can make the jerk empathetic. That’s not saying you give the protagonist the capacity for empathy, but rather that you give them traits the audience can relate to. Humanize them a bit, just a little, so that they’re a tad more understandable. Maybe they are the way they are because of a bad childhood, or ill health, or they’re just plain unlucky.

Let us consider the case of Disney’s Donald Duck. He’s … not the most pleasant individual, especially in his 1930s and 1940s cartoon shorts. But oh, boy, does he have bad luck at every turn. Nothing turns out right for him. No wonder he has such a chip on his shoulder. If we had the rotten fortune that Donald does, we’d be short-tempered, irritable scoundrels, too.

So, there you have it. My two cents on writing jerk protagonists. It can be done. It has been done. You can do it, too.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Blank Spaces of the Mind: How Do You Tell A Story Without Having to Tell Everything?

I like movies. I’m a visual person, and I enjoy seeing things portrayed on the screen. Little details are the most fun. Characters’ tics and interesting events happening in the background. Sometimes, I envy filmmakers. Creating their worlds are a little bit easier, because they can convey in a minute what can take a writer four or five paragraphs to communicate. ESPECIALLY when they are able to tell the story without a single word being said.

We writers, of course, don’t have that luxury. Books are nothing but words, which got me thinking: How do you show the reality of a story, that is, communicate character traits and worldbuilding details, when you can’t really show anything at all?

It’s a different game from simply describing a scene or a character. That’s to be expected. But where to stop? Where’s the line between “This is what Joe looks like and how he acts” and “This is Joe’s personality and character, let me tell you without ever referring to it again and thus making this paragraph pointless.”

So, I’ve thought about it, and here’s what I’ve come up with so far.

Stories are best told when the writer doesn’t need to explain everything. A good story unfurls through action, whether visual or written. Actions define a character, a group of characters, even a location. The way a person carries himself, dresses, talks – these all express relevant elements without the need for a mountain of exposition.

And they can be brief. For example: A wizard appears in the story. He dresses in fancy clothes and has clean, well-groomed hair. He talks formally with a condescending tone. He casually refers to esoteric subjects. He sniffs loudly whenever he disapproves of the other characters’ comments. He kills a wolf with a single, well-timed spell. Short, succinct statements that tell us what we need to know – and give us the freedom to paint a picture of the character in our minds. We don’t always have to go into detail about hair color, eye color, body type, or a detailed analysis of clothing. Heck, just the word “wizard” probably had you paint half the picture from a single word, didn’t it?

But then, another character brings in the Artifact of Doom for the wizard to identify. The wizard immediately panics and backs away, demanding that the object not be brought near him. Well, that tells us immediately that the Artifact of Doom is really bad news. If Mr. High-and-Mighty is scared, it just might be a serious problem for everyone.

So, yeah, books aren’t visual, but they can still tell a story without having to tell us everything. In short, leave some space for the reader. Now, I’m not going to say that I’m necessarily good at this as a writer. I’m still learning, but I’ve learned as much from reading as writing. And I get annoyed when books pause everything to describe the POV character’s emotional state or appearance in long, flowery detail. It just seems … excessive.

Maybe it’s just the mark my journalism classes left on me. I like simple and to-the-point. And I like to think that my readers can be trusted to have a little imagination to fill in the blank spaces of the mind that words can’t reach by themselves.

What are your thoughts? How do you think a story can “show, not tell?”

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “New York City Street Scenes – Rainy Night on the Lower East Side” by Steven Pisano; Licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Keep Soldiering On!

The snow is here. Winter continues its dismal march. I walk through slush and ice in the dark to work every morning, and return home at twilight. I don’t see much of daylight. It’s a dreary time of year. Makes it hard to write and create.

But the days are getting longer! The dismal darkness won’t last forever. I’ll see the sun again on a daily basis, and enjoy the cheer of spring.

No deep reflections today, or musings on storytelling. Just a piece of encouragement to all you creators out there to keep creating. Keep motoring on when things feel gloomy. This, too, shall pass, and tomorrow will be a little bit brighter.

Face-to-Face in an Age of Long-Distance Technology

I’m an introvert by nature. I like being alone. Being isolated holds no real terror for me. Sure, it can be a bit monotonous at times, but I have a knack for finding ways to amuse myself. All in all, I enjoy being by myself. And in today’s word of Zoom meetings and work-from-home job schedules, I have more time to myself then ever. Most of us do. Heck, the Internet has made in-person interaction almost a secondary social trait.

That being said, I will never decry the importance – the essentiality – of physically being with friends.

I recently celebrated New Year’s with a group of close friends. We spent the night playing board games and laughing at each other’s corny jokes. Not being a social butterfly, such events are relatively rare for me, which makes them all the sweeter. Being with people is fun. And if I say that as if it’s some grand discovery, maybe that’s just the millennial in me talking.

We need people. Not just people’s words on social media, or their faces on the web camera. We need to be with people. Humans are social animals.

“Relationship” is a word that’s easy to bandy about. What other words are there to use to illustrate its complexity? Friendship. Camaraderie. Partnership. Sharing. Connecting. Time investment. Yup, relationships demand our time. Maybe a friendship in person is more precious because you sacrifice the time to be there in the flesh, rather than sit on your butt in front of your computer typing from a distance.

That New Year’s party was time well-spent. The spontaneity, the laughter, the jokes, the simple act of being there. It stirred memories of when that was commonplace for me. Maybe for all of us? Before the advent of social distancing. High school and college days where I hung out with friends during lunch and chatted with them throughout the week. Things that I took for granted. Ah, but hindsight is always bittersweet.

So, this New Year has gotten me thinking about the importance of in-person relationships. Writing is a solitary activity, and that means socializing is something I must seek elsewhere. I do have a social life, mind you, but perhaps I was starting to treat it a little too casually and valuing it a little less than I should have. We all need to see a living face every once in a while.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “Forest” by tim_gorman; Licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0.

New Year’s Resolutions? I Resolve Not To!

New Year’s Day is a day famous for resolutions. The day when people work up the courage to swear to permanent change in their lives. To resolve to start doing this, stop doing that, and make some adjustments to these other things. A time for fresh starts.

Now, let’s be honest with ourselves. How many of you have ever kept a resolution all the way through the entire year? If you have, you have my deep and abiding respect. You are a rare breed.

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. I defy this societal concept. No, I’m not being contrary for contrariness’s sake, I just don’t understand the need for it. Why wait until one day out of 365 (or 366) when you can always decide to change TODAY? That is, if you really want to improve yourself. Maybe it’s just more comfortable to say, as little orphan Annie sings, “There’s always tomorrow.” And tomorrow always seems to be such a long time coming.

That being said, it’s all well and good to come up with new goals on New Year’s Day. It’s tempting to look out across the vastness of the new year, all those blank days ripe with promise, and imagine to oneself how this time you’ll do it differently. You’ll be better this year, just wait and see. You make that silent resolution to yourself. On the same day, of course, when everyone parties hard till midnight and carouses and gets drunk and gets into car accidents. A hangover and a car repair bill. An excellent start to the new year.

Some people take resolutions very seriously. And to those people who can keep them throughout the year, I say more power to you. Like I already said, you are a rare breed. Most people make a few half-hearted mentions of a few things in life they want to be different, then forget all about it in a couple weeks (or a couple drinks).

Which isn’t to say that the idea behind New Year’s resolutions is a bad thing. We should always strive to improve ourselves. But maturity and growth is a gradual process, not something that happens in leaps and spurts. It takes a lot of effort to change something about ourselves. We stubbornly cling to bad habits and thoughts because they’ve stuck with us for so long. A single day of swearing off a habit isn’t going to make much difference. You got to work at it every day. You got to practice. Change is slow.

So, I don’t bother with New Year’s resolutions. Why should I, when I can make that resolution any day of the year? Sometimes, I make the same resolution multiple times in a week or a month, because I stumble. We all stumble, especially after making a big show of the big changes in our lives. Life likes to set us up like that. It’s like setting the cute baby seal free into the ocean with cameras rolling and – oh, there’s the shark waiting to spoil the moment.

I will make resolutions as many days as it takes to improve myself for the better and change my bad habits. No one-and-done deals. One day’s quick and easy promises aren’t enough.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “Fireworks – Adelaide Skyshow 2010” by anthonycramp; Licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Why Do You Create?

Christmas vacation has given me more time than usual to spend on my writing and passion. That needling desire – that need – to write is stronger than ever within me. With this awareness fresh in mind, I want to ask a question to my readers. No need to answer in the comments if you don’t want to, of course. This is just something to ponder when you have a moment.

Why do you create?

This isn’t just a question for authors, or for artists, sculptors, songwriters, musicians, poets, filmmakers, and those who doodle in their notebooks during class. This is for all who feel the urge to create something, to tinker with something, to take something apart and put it back together again.

This is for those who enjoy the act of producing and modifying and bringing into being a thing that wasn’t there before. The car mechanics, the dance choreographers, the sketchers, the gardeners, the woodcarvers, the fashion designers, the computer programmers, the origami enthusiasts, the crocheters, the embroiderers, and the engravers. The shoemakers, the tailors, the welders, the carpenters, the jewelers, and the chemists. The people who sing in the shower and the people who love decorating for Christmas. The people who color coordinate their clothes and the ones who sew blankets for their friends’ children. This is for all of you.

Why do you create?

What is this burning desire? This all-consuming thought that strikes us out of the blue: I want to make something. Why? What does it do for you? What is this amazing, crazy facet of human nature, this ability and impulse to make something new in the world?

And what happens if we don’t answer the desire? How do you feel if you can’t create, or if you experience a blockage?

Just a thought to ponder as the new year approaches. Whatever the answer, I wish you luck with your creations, and the fervent hope you can share them with others. To create is a gift, and the best gifts are shared with others.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “Another Bosque Sunrise” by snowpeak; Licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Legacy: What We Are Remembered For

As we get older, we start having deep thoughts. Questions run through our minds, questions like, “What will I leave behind when I’m gone?” and “How will people remember me?” With age comes an acute awareness that our time on Earth is finite, and with that come musings on what our legacy will be. What mark will our lives leave on the world? Will we, to get to the heart of things, have done anything that mattered?

Legacy is a loaded word. It’s a word associated with empires and rulers. It invokes monuments that endure for centuries. Legacies are connected to greatness. The greatest men and women of history, whether good or bad, are remembered by all.

And look at what society says to us. We must work hard to leave our own mark. We must strive to improve the world, to improve society, to make positive changes, to “be the change you want to see.” Or even, just to leave the world a little better than when we found it. A burden, one might say. It is something imposed on people from a young age to aspire to greatness.

I say it’s a distraction from what’s truly important. Today’s great accomplishments are tomorrow’s misguided attempts. We simply don’t know how we will be remembered, or by whom, or for what. That guy you accidentally cut off on the freeway is going to remember you very differently than your favorite uncle who loves the sweater you bought him for Christmas. And that piece of litter you picked up in the park without a second thought might inspire some passing child to pursue a career in conservation. The door you held open for an old lady might have given her new hope in life.

Farfetched, you say? What do we truly know about what will affect others the most? Media tells us that big causes and organizations are what change the world. But not everyone is going to make a mark on that scale. What does that tell us? That those who don’t measure up to vaguely defined goals are failures?

Right, right, this is all very deep and philosophical, but maybe you’re wondering what this means for you. Or you’re wondering who this pretentious nit with a blog is, anyhow. Well, the long and short of it is: Your legacy is everything you do, big and small. And the small things, in my experience, tend to matter more than the big.

We’re not all going to be famous when we die. We’re not all going to found a world-spanning charity or find the cure to a terrible disease or invent a new technology. But we are all capable of acts of kindness. Compassion and sympathy go a long, long way. There might not be any prizes or awards, and nobody’s going to erect a monument for a gentle word, so maybe it doesn’t appeal to everyone. At least, until you need a kind word yourself on a bad day.

We can’t control our own legacies. We can maybe dictate what’s written on our tombstone, and will our possessions to others, but how we truly affected the world – for better or ill – is a far more complex thing that can’t be summed up in a few brief achievements.

Legacies shift and change and what we consider our magnum opus might be forgotten within a few years. So, if you ever find yourself getting worried over how people remember you, just relax. Just do your best and be kind. I suspect we’d all be surprised if we were aware of the things we did that truly mattered most to others.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “The mountains are calling and I must go. John Muir” by blmiers2; Licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

Quirks and Tics: Characterization through Minor Details

You ever think about how traits and habits can shape a character? Everyone has their own flavor of mannerisms: body posture, repeating gestures, facial expressions, verbal expressions, nervous habits. For the sake of simplicity, let’s call them “quirks.” They’re the little details that don’t play a part in the unfolding plot, but simply help flesh out the world you’re creating. Being visual cues, for the most part, they also aren’t always the easiest thing to describe in writing. Movies love them, though, and they can definitely help liven up a scene and make characters more relatable.

It’s all about humanizing your characters. Real people have habits and tics. They do or say things on a regular basis that are uniquely a part of them. You – yes, you – have habits and gestures of your own that make you, well, you. The devil is in the details, but so is good writing. Experienced authors can make even a bit character memorable by throwing in a couple of notable traits and letting those emblazon themselves in readers’ minds. Movies have it even easier. Being visual by nature, a film or TV show can display those quirks without pausing to describe them, letting such details blend more seamlessly into the narrative.

Mostly, quirks are all about worldbuilding, aren’t they? Not necessary to the plot, not vital to understanding the hero and supporting cast. They’re like sprinkles on ice cream. They’re a little something extra.

Or are they?

Quirks can be used as plot devices and can even deliver good payoffs. Someone recognizes her long-lost lover because of the specific way in which he twirls his hair. A secret agent’s habit of spinning his knife causes him to drop it and nearly trigger a motion-sensor alarm. A villain always unconsciously taps her fingers at the prospect of playing a game. A protagonist with OCD compulsively touches and counts poles on the sidewalk. He misses one and goes back for it – just in time to miss being run down by an oncoming car.

These are all examples taken from real movies and TV shows. Can you figure out where they come from?

Do you want your story to feel real? Do you want your characters to feel like people you might actually meet on the street? Or maybe you just want to challenge yourself with producing something a little more creative than past works? Consider using quirks to ad spice to your story. How? Well, take a look at the people you already know. Watch them carefully (but don’t be weird about it). Look at how they act and talk and move. Real life is good inspiration. Everyone has quirks.

Are there ways in which you have used quirks in your writing? Please feel free to share!

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Putting Your Best Foot Forward: Thoughts on Confidence

You ever see someone walking down the street with an easy stride, good posture, and a sure expression on their face? You think to yourself, “Man, they’ve got it together. They know they’re going places in life.” You ever question if they actually did know what they were doing and where they’d end up? After all, if they look like they know what they’re doing, they probably do, right?

Well, maybe not.

How often did you ask mom and dad questions about the world when you were a kid? And you took their answers as gospel truth. Parents always know why the sky is blue, and why the moon disappears during the day, and how car engines work, and when Santa is coming down the chimney on Christmas Eve. They were the all-knowing arbiters of wisdom.

Then we grew up and figured out that our parents were barely keeping it together. Blazes if they knew the right answers to a young child’s innocent curiosity. We become parents ourselves and end up playing the same part, only to discover that we can barely manage a coherent sentence in response to our children’s relentless torrent of questions.

But our parents always LOOKED like they knew what they were talking about. And because of that, we never thought to question anything they said. They could have told us the world really was black and white with no color in the 1950s, and our young selves would have believed them.

What about the inverse? An expert – in mathematics, let’s say – lectures in front of an audience. He’s giving one of those TED talks or what have you. He knows exactly what he’s talking about. He’s foremost in his field. But he stutters. He’s nervous being out in public like this. Consequently, he can’t explain the concepts very well. He has a nervous laugh and shuffles his feet. An expert? Sure. But we aren’t inclined to take him seriously. Not like Dad, who has no idea how photosynthesis works, but is able to bluff his three-year-old with a bold smile and a ready answer.

Confidence is a funny thing. It’s no guarantee of truth or accuracy, but it is such a vital component of how others perceive us. We trust confident people. They at least have the decency to look like they know what they’re about. And hey, if they trust their own skill, why shouldn’t we? Well, that way lies potential catastrophe, but that’s the point. We follow those who look like they know where they’re going. Confidence is no substitute for competence, but it is an important ingredient in leadership and successful undertakings.

Writing your book is one thing. Selling it is another. The Internet is full of ways to advertise, but if you don’t believe in the product yourself, why should others? If you don’t have the self-assurance that your story is worth reading, how are you going answer the question, “Why should I care?” If you don’t have any confidence, any trust in your book’s quality, people notice. And who wants to read a book that even the author doesn’t think is very good? Have a little faith in your work!

We live in a superficial world. Sad, but true. People look at our appearance and how we carry ourselves. Before they get to know us, they spot little details –shirt stains, unkempt hair, untied shoelaces. And thus, our self-presentation impresses itself on people’s memories for far longer than a good conversation or a well-informed lecture. Likewise, if any aspiring writers are trying to convince someone to read their book and looks nervous and withdrawn when discussing the thing, that’s what our would-be readers will remember, not that we actually wrote a good story that they’ll enjoy.

Is that fair? Not really. But it’s real. Writing requires skill and practice and patience. But to get people to read that story? That requires the belief that the story you told is worth sharing with others. It requires confidence to say that your story is worth the effort.

If you just so happen to be enjoying my blog, feel free to subscribe. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image: “BASE jump” by santimolina; Licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.