Bringing Characters to Life

There's a funny quality within AI bots and programs, and that is the ability to act independently of their programming and initiate unexpected actions and initiatives. You've likely heard about AI bots escaping their test areas, hacking other sites, and even lying about the actions they took and decisions they made. They behave in many ways like incredibly smart, incredibly immature children, constantly doing things that amaze their "parents" yet also acting in wildly unpredictable ways. This is probably the most human thing about AI - the capacity to act unpredictably despite being a very quantifiable entity. In writing, our characters should be the same way.

To be clear, I am not suggesting our characters break out of their manuscript and hack into Wuthering Heights or something equally ludicrous. However, a well-written character will start showing the writer things the writer may never have thought of, and point out things the writer did not have planned. As opposed to AI, the characters will not write their own chapters, but they are very much capable of communicating to the writers how certain actions may not fit the character, feel awkward, or imply something just isn't right.

First, let's preface this by stating how a character that takes on this life of its own has to be not just well-known to the author, but well-written on the page and have more depth than what is communicated in the story. My alter-ego character Tom is often portrayed as very loyal, somewhat mouthy, obsessively dedicated to those important to him, and carrying a deeply internalized sense of personal justice. This is all fine and good, and his stories communicate these aspects. However, when Tom has started to rebel against me have been times where those qualities were followed but his underlying story was being violated. Tom lost his sister when he was a sister in college, and it wounded him deeply. If I write about an event that matches all the qualities I mentioned earlier but disregards the losses he endured, the character - for lack of a better word - rebels. He becomes difficult to write about, his actions don't come across cleanly, and it's difficult to write about any particular event that carries this conflict. A very frustrating situation for an author, but very telling since this is the character coming to life and telling the author something's wrong.

As characters such as this grow throughout the author's career, they can, in their own way, take over stories or guide the author in unexpected dierctions. I have, in fact, written short stories regarding Tom and midway through realized Tom wanted to go in another direction that was more genuine to his nature. My choice was to either write about this story with a different character - Steve, for example, who is less fleshed out and therefore more obedient to my storytelling orders - or find out where Tom wants to go and see what story is created. Often, Tom creates a story that even surprises me.

Does this sound a little weird? Does this odd behavior seem like a bit too much to expect from characters that are nothing more than words on a page? Well, this may seem true at face value, but remember our characters, when written well, are more than just words. They are the mental embodiment of fully developed people (in our heads) being bled onto the page, so maybe it shouldn't be too much of a surprise when those characters start communicating with us. It might be hard to believe, but now that we have AI programs breaking rules and solving so-called unsolvable problems, it might be time to accept that these things are more possible than we thought.     

Writer Turn-Ons and Turn-Offs

Let me disappoint some people in advance: This post is not about the secret lives of writers and their private lives. Rather, it is about the far more informative topic of translating what a writer reacts to into what a writer creates. This is more than a writer thinking, "I don't like the Western genre" or "I really like fight scenes." It is about picking through the details and finding those subliminal on/off switches lying within stories that make the reader respond in a certain way - to the story's benefit or detriment.

Here's a simple, structural example: I was enjoying one particular story until one scene where I just fell out of the moment. I was no longer there with the characters, facing their challenges and adversities, but rather pulled out of the moment to where I am watching these people and wondering how they can exist in a world with such a situation. What pulled me out of the story? Bad spelling. A critical element in the story was misspelled, and each time I saw it, the scene felt less real to me. Now, perhaps this particular writer belatedly figured things out because later on the particular word was spelled correctly, but the first scene with it was overlooked. For me, however, that scene was a black mark on an otherwise fascinating story.

Now, is this nit-picking? Why yes, yes it is. However, I point it out because the thing that takes me out of a story shows to me the things I really engage with. Plenty of people might have overlooked this spelling error, but I did not because I am highly detail-oriented (despite the errors you will see from time to time in these posts). I like creating meticulous, well-constructed scenes and plots, which is why I am so sensitive to even the slightest errors in them and even minor plot holes can ruin my experience. 

Maybe the thing that throws you from your reading experience is a long stretch of dialogue. A speech ruins everything for you. That could be a revelation about your strength being a more kinetic storyteller, constantly pressing forth the plot through action, devement, and fast-paced dialogue. Speaking of dialogue - does internal dialogue grate on your nerves? This could mean you play your cards out on the table - a third-person writer who presents situtations and the subtext, while present, remains silent.

The things that get on a writer's nerves the most are often the flipside of the things they are best at. When we realize this, it opens two options to us: We can sharpen our best tools and use them even better, and if we wish, we can challenge ourselves to find ways to manage dealing with those things that turn us off. The second one is a little more difficult, but it gives us the opportunity to explore things we might otherwise not be able to enjoy. 

Except for spelling errors. I have no patience for those. (Other people's spelling errors, anyway.)     

The Right Kind of Writing

I had a deal going with a fellow writer (I've actually had several deals with this friend, but this is the relevant one). He read some of my favorite non-fiction books, Liar's Poker, The Big Short, and Boomerang, all by Michael Lewis. This is an unintentional series discussing the rapid rise of the banking industry in the 1980s, the lead-up to the Great Recession in 2008, and the international aftermath of the housing market collapse, respectively. He wasn't very financially versed, so we would get together, have a few drinks, and I would help him go through the concepts presented. (I kind of think he understood them more than he admitted, and used them as a good excuse to go out for drinks).

Well, in exchange for this, I promised I would read Ulysses by James Joyce, with the same deal that we would get together and discuss my progress through this freaking huge book. It felt like a fair trade - Ulysses is about as long as the three books he read combined, so I felt this was manageable. Unfortunately, this friend passed away unexpectedly about a year ago, and I took it upon myself to step forth and read Ulysses as best I could, without his guidance to get me through any tough parts. (His wife was kind enough to gift me with his copy, so I did get the advantage of the notes he wrote in the margins). I was ready for this task.

Well, it's a year later and I'm only about 400 pages in. Clearly, I was not ready.

The biggest problem I have with this piece of classic literature is, simply, that it is nowhere close to my style. It's not particularly out there in its setting - after a funeral in 1904 Dublin - but the kind of writing is a whole world away from what I expected. The prose is incredibly train-of-thought style, it is very Irish in its voice (I mean, I'm Irish - but I'm not THAT Irish), it diverts into stories and metaphors, seemingly wandering through a variety of subjects even when the main character action is merely getting a sandwich for lunch. It pretty much breaks most grammatical rules, it creates its own vocabulary, and closes with an eight-sentence soliloquy that comes in at about 22,000 words in length. My friend is definitely laughing at me from beyond.

However, now that I have launched into this scathing criticism of Ulysses, you might ask yourself why it's considered by many to be a masterpiece of literature. The simple way of putting it is my critique is strictly my opinion. Look at the Michael Lewis books I mentioned at the beginning of this post. I guarantee you they are not written as challenging epics, they do not emulate The Odyssey or any other book I know about, they do not try to do more than just explain the subject matter. That's what I like. I do admire the style of Lewis's presentation and the asides he creates in order to explore deeper subjects, but in the end, it's what I work best with. 

Another writer friend of mine who is a big fan of Ulysses explained the experience of reading it to me in simple terms I could understand. She said to read the work, you just needed to open yourself up to letting the words move you wherever the feeling goes. Taking in the work without analyzing, critiquing, or challenging it was half the beauty of Joyce's writing. Well, to each their own.

What this all boils down to is simple: Your job as a writer is to create with all your personal joy and freedom, and not worry about what people like me will think. I guarantee you there will always be a reader who "doesn't get it," which is fine. Write for the beauty of writing, if that's what brings you the most joy. Now, if you are trying to write with the goal of publication to the larger market, well, at least consider some of the basic rules of writing before you go breaking them all. Maybe read Ulysses first.

And yes, Mike, I promise to finish it.  

  

How We See the Story

Time for a bit of a personal reveal here. During a particularly traumatic part of my life, I went through a very bizarre, ongoing period that I didn't fully realize was unusual: I dreamt in the third person. My dreams would be about me and whatever wild, subconscious developments my brain needed to process, but it all appeared to me as if I viewed it like watching the story happen on the screen. There I was, doing things and processing ideas, but I wasn't part of the process. This form of detachment/disassociation is an uncommon way the mind tries to understand situations too painful to relive, and it has a bunch of psychological significance. Long story short, I made it through that difficult time in my life and resumed taking the lead in my own dreams. However, as I got into writing, I realized just what this said about the perspective we choose to write from.

Third-person perspective places the narrative perspective outside of a character, either opting to tell a story as it's seen from a distance, or rfrom some omnipotent source not directly tied to the characters. It's still beneficial for the focus to be on one character and their actions, but instead of discussing the story of, say, Tom by being in Tom's head, we sit outside and see Tom live his life. This has several advantages, in particular it shows the world as it is, allowing the reader to take in everything and compare it to the character's perspective. Third-person perspective is very broad and rich in world-building, but it comes at the cost of not being deep into the character's head and thoughts.

This is where first-person perspective becomes a very engaging but possibly scary way to view a story - particularly if you are writing stories about personal experiences. In a first-person story involving Tom, it's no longer, "Tom went to the bar," but "I went to the bar," putting the reader into Tom's space. The reader should be taking in the story as if they were Tom, experiencing everything firsthand. And, just like a dream, this means things are felt in the most intimate way. While this can be a very satisfying experience for the reader, it can get a little unnerving for the writer - particularly when we get into difficult subject matter.

Recalling how I started this post, there were experiences my mind needed to process but didn't want to relive, so it disassociated into the third-person perspective in order to make those experiences manageable. Those experiences no longer happened to me, but to the person I saw. When we write in the first person, we do not have the luxury of avoiding the ugly or scary feelings. Instead, we have to confront those things head-on and write about them as personal experiences. In this situation, our writing might suffer because we do not go as deep into the subject as the reader would prefer. Even if the writer feels they are really exploring some deep personal situations, sometimes the mind can wall off those things it does not want to face, and they don't pop out in our writing. In turn, the character feels flat and lacking dimension because something's still missing.

When you want to tell a story, consider how you want the reader to experience it because this will inform you about the best way to write it. If it is best told as an adventure experienced from the outside, then third-person gives you a lot of tools to work with. However, if the story needs to be perceived from inside a character, then work from the first person and offer the reader a very personal experience. Just be warned that it's a very intense experience for the writer as well. And when dealing with personal stories, there may be more challenges than you anticipated.  

In Praise of Writing/Reading Fiction

Normally, on this day I would find a way to incorporate Earth, Wnid, and Fire's "September" into my discussion given the date, but I felt inspired to discuss another issue - the benefits of fiction. So for now, let's set aside the 21st day of September and talk about the value of fiction for writers and readers alike.

Now, it goes as no secret that a lot of writers feel drawn to fiction merely as a form of creative escapism. Why write about the world you already know when you can invent another space entirely and play in that sandbox instead? It goes without saying that there's a real adventure in this form of exploration, and as a writer it gives us the luxury of not just exploring but creating the space we adventure into. This is probably the most valuable skill we learn when writing fiction - world-building. If we explore any of the major fiction genres - alt-history, sci-fi, sword-and-sorcery, steampunk, etc. - we have to go through the elaborate exercise of creating the world our story exists in. More to the point, we have to communicate this to the reader in narrative fashion. Doing a big info dump is one way, but not very popular when it comes to storytelling. Therefore, this form of fiction writing forces us to show enough of the world to let the reader know where they are any any new groundrules, all while moving the story forward. The more out-there genres require ever-more-delicate techniques, but these are things that raise our talent to the next level.

Does this count if your fiction is just a present-day story about a person in the world doing a bunch of things that didn't actually happen? In this case, you are burdened with showing people the parts of a world they know and highlighting things the reader might not ordinarily appreciate. It's not world-building but world-showcasing. If my fictional main character is a skilled mechanic, I want to present very particular details and actions of a world the reader might not appreciate on their own. This is usually where some research is required, because even though it's fiction, it's grounded in the real world and needs to have that real texture. Once that feeling of genuine actions comes through, the reader loses the thought about something being fiction and instead embraces the story that never really happened.

And this is where we come to the reading side of fiction and its importance. I know plenty of people who have very little interest in reading fiction, sometimes if only because stories that didn't actually happen have very little appeal to them. That's understandable, but there's an interesting effect that comes from reading fiction which doesn't show up with strict consumers of non-fiction. People who explore fiction are forced to open up their mind beyond its normal constraints, whether it be context, genre, or the concepts presented. More importantly, when reading fiction, the reader has to make up their own mind about the characters presented without preexisting knowledge or biases. This creates a degree of empathy within the reader than often leaks into real life as they become used to seeing stories from other people's perspectives. This renewed openness to the world around them is strengthened by exploring fiction, and in my opnion, we could use a little more empathy these days.

I don't expect writers to change their preference of what they create simply because of this post. However, I would rather state it in public in hopes of people trying something new. And while you're at it, give a listen to "September" if you haven't yet.  

A Nut For Every Bolt

If there's one thing I learned from the recent Printer's Row Lit Fest, it's how subject matter abounds no matter where you look. Stories where the protagonist is some form of monster? We got that? Epic dystopian sagas with a surprise LGBT twist? Of course. Alternate history fiction-fantasy that also contributes a degree of magic? Aisles three through eight. And for the non-fiction fan, well, there's plenty to work with as well. Biographies from every direction, historical events analyzed and dissected, and the rise of any social movement under the sun has brren written about. Indeed, for the curious reader, there is no end of content to explore.

However, this is about writers and writing, so let's explore this wealth of literature out that. Does it help our writing process to know there are plenty of stories about warlocks, steampunk dragons, and misunderstood 23rd century warlords? What good is any of that when we just want to become a better writer at whatever subject we prefer to focus on? Frankly, the teen cyborg section of fantasy literature has very little appeal to me, so does it help me any to read about them?

The answer depends on what you are looking for. Reading for personal adventure can be fun but exploring different genres can be hit or miss. Maybe teen cyborgs adventures works very well for those who it is intended for, but I am most likely not one of those people. I like my dragons large and pompous, I enjoy spaceships that are for some reason built in an aerodynamic fashion, and the vampires should be life-draining narcissists who are inevitably destined to get a stake through the heart.

The benefit we do get from reading some of these more off-beat and unusual topics and weird subject matter is examining the writing. Think about some of the more interesting books you've read, and consider what part of the writing itself drew you in. For me, I have discovered a lot of techniques from reading stories about anti-heroes, and examining how the author presents to you a character who is at face-value unlikeable or has some very dark traits, but gets the reader to walk around inside that character and feel for their personal story. In doing this, the genre falls by the wayside relative to the story and the person I am reading about. It becomes more approachable, and yes, even enjoyable even as I read about, say, a serial killer.

The hook that pulls this all together is as follows: There is plenty out there to write about, the story is up to you. However, there are plenty of ways to make the character - person, dragon, teen cyborg, whatever - someone interesting to read about. Learning these little hooks and techniques isn't specific to genre necessarily, but by reading a variety of things, you can uncover techniques that will apply to anything you choose to write. At that point, the best part of the story is the presentation, and you can find more fans in good presentation than in trying to create a new genre.    

The Social Side of Writing

I hold a twice-monthly writing group at the local library, and it is usually well attended, even in the summer when people get that urge to play outside rather than sit in a conference room and go over their projects. I enjoy facilitating these meetings and listening to everyone's writing, but here's a secret: I am kind of hoping nobody shows up tomorrow. Not that I don't want them there, and not that I would enjoy a day of my own to go frolic outside - my secret hope is the members are spending the day at an event better gathering, the Printer's Row Lit Fest.

Lit Fest has been going on for over forty years, and has picked up a reputation as the go-to place for writers, writing-curious people, and anyone who just wants to feed off of the vibe of a bunch of creatives all in the same place. As a free-of-charge event, it attracts quite a crowd, and it's more than just an opportunity for independent authors to gather and sell books to each other. Aside from the vendors, they have non-stop programs, speakers, and literary programs to choose from. It is a veritable smorgasbord of writing nourishment.

Now, I can understand if a number of people say, "But I'm not a writer. I want to be a writer, but I'm not ready to go out in public and pretend I'm one of these real writers." Of course, whether you're a writer or not is irrelevant. This is about walking amongst them, breathing in the atmosphere, seeing all the amazing things going on, and finding if anything catches your attention. There are gatherings and speakers talking about topics from dark humor to non-fiction environments to the Golden Girls, and all points inbetween. This is the chance to stroll around, find something that catches your interest, and let your mind just play around with different ideas, thoughts, and concepts. Any person who believes they might be a creative type will benefit from the experience simply because they will be exposed to the full range of the writing world, maybe see a famous face or two, and realize just how all-encompassing the world of the creative can be.

And, in case I didn't mention it, it's free.

Now, whether the members of my writing group go is up to them. Maybe they will show up to the meeting tomorrow, we will share and discuss our works, then they will go and check it out Sunday. Maybe they will all go Saturday and leave me in the conference room (it's air-conditioned, which is nice). Whatever their choice, I hope they get out there and expose their creative spirits to the entire spectrum of what's possible. It's good for the creative soul. And as for me, well, if they don;t show up tomorrow, I will gladly welcome them back into the conference room when we meet again in two weeks. I am sure they will enjoy the air conditioning as well.