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Technique

Why I love Burn Notice

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This entry is part 9 of 11 in the series Creating sympathetic characters

Yes, it’s cool and it’s glossy and it’s filled with attractive people. And guns and explosions and spy work and secret undercover coolness. And hilarity.

But that’s not why I love Burn Notice. (Those things don’t hurt, mind you.)

Michael Westen of Burn NoticeI love Burn Notice because of the characters. Namely one Michael Westen. (And no, I don’t mean Jeffrey Donovan, though he is quite attractive. I mean Michael Westen.) When USA says “Characters welcome,” they mean it.

Michael is a complex character—he’s terrible at interpersonal relationships. He does bad things. And though he wouldn’t talk about it and takes no pleasure in it, he has killed. He’s not above blackmail or letting the bad guys kill each other.

Though he’d prefer not to have to deal with them, Michael loves his mom and his brother and does all he can to protect them. In a recent episode (“End Run“), Michael was blackmailed into working for a bad guy because said bad guy threatened his brother. The writers even made it so that working for the bad guy wasn’t all that bad—he didn’t want a nuke, just a particular electronic interface. “People will go on killing each other in little wars all around the globe, whether or not you steal it,” he says. “The only difference is how much money I make while they do it.” To show he’ll make good on his threat, the bad guy even shoots Michael’s brother in the arm.

It wouldn’t be so wrong, then, would it? It would save his brother’s life (before he bleeds out, too), and it wouldn’t cost the world much.

Michael Westen building a cantennaMichael breaks into the office, gets the weapon and—sees a photo of a family. With kids. While that reminder helps him put together some of the scant evidence they’ve compiled about this bad guy, I think it also reminds him of the greater good. “I’m not handing over a nuke to save one life,” he tells the bad guy, “even if it is my brother’s.”

Michael is a great character because he’s strong—physically, yes, but more importantly, he’s extremely smart/savvy (mental strength, if you will). He even verges on too strong—as a blacklisted spy/former black ops soldier, he knows just what to do in any given situation. But he has weaknesses—the classics: children; his family; oh, and the fate of the entire world. Most importantly, he struggles.

And this time, he struggled because the choice was hard—it wasn’t save or destroy the world (or save the world, sacrifice integrity), it was save his brother or some small number of unknown people—possibly no one. The talented writers made it seem no great sin if Michael had decided to trade the weapon for his brother’s life. And he almost did.

But in the end, he didn’t. And that’s what I love most about Burn Notice.

Who are your favorite television characters? Why?

You can watch the full episode on Hulu until July 30.

Uncategorized

What would you like to see next?

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Lately we’ve had some fun series all about verbs and creating sympathetic characters. The series on creating sympathetic characters will wrap up next week (unless you have some specific questions or topics you’d still like covered in that area).

I have a couple of ideas on where to go next—but I’d love to get your feedback, so we can discuss what you’re most interested in. So, the topics I’m thinking of covering next are:

  • How to use and not abuse (or confuse!) commas,
  • Editing techniques to make sure every scene moves your story forward, or
  • How to critique others’ work (and possibly how to find/establish a critique group)

So if you have a preference among those three, or any other ideas, let your voice be heard!

Photo credit: Svilen Mushkatov

Works

July Writing Challenge

Tristi Pinkston is hosting a July writing challenge! For the month of July, we’re setting goals for what we’d like to accomplish in our writing projects, whether that’s words written, pages edited or even research done.

July is set to be a pretty busy month for me—festivities for the Fourth of July (seriously; my husband just called and said he got us tickets to four different events next week), my family here for most of the month, two family reunions, a road trip. . . . I think I’m getting a little ambitious. But we’ll try, anyway!

  1. Edit 350 pages of my MS:
    • Go through my writing partner’s notes on the last ten chapters
    • Go through the second half of the book again to make all my planned changes, add two scenes and cut out the parts people skip
    • Get as many chapters to my critique partners as they can stand. 😉
  2. Read my library books:
  3. Read at least one book off my Summer Reading Thing list.

  4. Continue to mull over the exact plot, premise and motifs for my next WIP. (If I’m feeling really ambitious—or, y’know, stuck on a long road trip—even outline one book or the full story arc.)
  5. Stay current on critique partners’ edits.

This is a great way to help us reach our goals. By writing them down, we have something concrete to work toward. And part of the challenge is checking regularly at Tristi’s challenge blog, where you get accountability and encouragement. And at the end of the month, we report to Tristi for our final dose of accountability. All of these things can help us achieve our goals.

So what are your writing goals for the next month (well, five weeks—my goals start from today for me)? Share them in the comments or on your blog to participate in the challenge!

Photo credit: Richard Dudley

Technique

Creating sympathetic characters – techniques in action

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This entry is part 7 of 11 in the series Creating sympathetic characters

Can I tell you a story?

Once upon a time, there was a young man who was a habitual thief. Even though his family was perfectly capable of providing for him, and even though he was perfectly capable of working to support himself, he stole everything he owned and stole from anyone he could. He even subjugated innocent animals to make them steal for him.

In the same kingdom, there was a beautiful princess. Rich, powerful, handsome, kind men traveled from all over the world at the mere hope of winning her hand. Her doting father gave her everything she could ever want, and all he asked was that she marry, so that he could rest assured that she would be taken care of when he was gone. (Well, okay, he also would have liked to play with his grandkids before he went, too.) But the princess spurned and humiliated every suitor that came her way and simply refused to marry.

I know exactly what you’re thinking—you can’t wait for these two to get together for their happily ever after, huh? (Well, you have to admit, this does sound like it could be a prequel to The Great Gatsby, and then they could retreat into their money or their power or whatever it was that kept them together. . . . Anyway.)

But I’ll bet that you know and love a story with highly similar characters. This princess and this *ahem* street rat got a few new attributes in this retelling to make them a little less sympathetic. But in the hands of masterful character builders, by the time you know all the characters’ names, you’re rooting for them to find one another and fall in love.

How do we make these wretched people likeable? Here’s how it was done in the story I drew this from:

  • Start off with a framing story to set up how important the hero is, how legendary he is, and hint that great things will happen to this “diamond in the rough.”
  • He steals out of necessity—he’s an orphan, and he has to steal to eat.
  • He is persecuted—the city’s guards catch him stealing quite regularly and chase him through the streets.
  • He is smart and charming, and evades the guards through trickery.
  • After working hard to get away with a single loaf of bread (and sharing with his animal sidekick), when he sees two hungry orphans he gives them his whole meal.
  • A rich, haughty guy tries to tell our hero off completely without justification, and the crowd laughs. But our hero will have none of that and throws haughty guy’s words back in his face.
  • But rich, haughty guy gets the last word—he says to our hero, “You are a worthless street rat. You were born a street rat, you’ll die a street rat, and only your fleas will mourn you.” Then the palace doors slam shut, making sure our hero can’t retort and reinforcing just how destitute he is—and in his heart of hearts, we can see he worried that rich, haughty guy is right. (Very like Scarlett.)

And that’s the first seven or eight minutes (and I didn’t even mention how he saved the orphans’ lives). The heroine, of course, wants to marry for love, and all her suitors are only interested in power and money. Her father could easily be cast as a bad guy—the evil tyrant forcing her to marry against her will—but in this treatment, he keeps those nice sentiments that we gave him before.

Okay, if you haven’t guessed it by now, I’ll just tell you: our hero is Aladdin from the Disney animated film. And yeah, it’s a kids’ film, so the characterization can be a little . . . well, strong. (How do you convince a five-year-old that the guy stealing on screen is actually the good guy?) But at the same time, it’s done fairly (or at least relatively) believably.

What do you think? What movies or books do you see good characterization of otherwise yucky characters?

Photo credit: money grabber—Steve Woods

Technique

Building a Writing Community by Josi S. Kilpack, LDStorymakers

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Writing is a very lonely thing—we exist in our own world most of the time. It’s very different when we decide to put that world out there. We need a connection and a response.

Different writing communities serve different purposes.

Before you’re published you can ask others for feedback & technique training.

Once you’re published, you realize “Oh, that’s not the end.” It’s the beginning of a very different journey. You’re on a whole new plane now—now you have to be a public figure. In marketing—networking has been amazing—comparing notes, etc. And then you have your next project.

So, where do we start?

  1. At home! Often the hardest place to get the support that we want in our writing.
    • It’s a risk—reaching out to people for support. But it’s a vital support.
    • Make sure you’re giving the same support that you want to receive—you give as good as you get.
    • Don’t expect more than is reasonable—have other people to help support you.
  2. Books—the Salt Lake public library was my friend! When I first started writing, I had so much to learn, and some amazing books on writing really helped me.
  3. Others—again, a risk—not always a good fit. Can be frustrating and discouraging.
    • Physical groups—crit groups, classes, conferences. (If you’re outside of Utah and you want LDS authors, go to the Stake. If you can’t find any, try any other (ie non LDS) group.)
    • Online: email, blogs, social networks, etc. Rules:
      1. Play nice in the sand box! This is a small sandbox; it’s not as big as we think. We meet these people face-to-face later on and remember what we’ve said to them online. Remember people (potential writer friends, readers, etc.) can find all these comments. Even if they don’t remember, even if you make up, you will remember this when you meet them.
      2. Reciprocate! You go to a community to get something, yes, but if everyone’s there just to get, no one’s there to give.

“People ask you for criticism, but they only want praise.” —Somerset Maugham. When someone argues with a critique (or when you disagree with a comment): weigh it out. Give it a chance. Don’t follow the initial impulse to argue. We have to realize people want to help us!

Example: Shelley, Keats, Lord Byron, Coleridge were in a writing group together. Maybe it’s NOT a coincidence…

Questions
How do you stay positive with criticism and with critiques?

  • Point out the positive—good dialogue, good chapter length, good use of dialogue tags, good setting, etc.
  • Refer them to specific books or resources that will also help explain.

What are your favorite writing books?
Jack Bickham: The 38 Most Common Fiction Writing Mistakes, Scene & Structure
James N. Frey: How to Write a Damn Good Novel
Orson Scott Card: Characters & Viewpoint

What size writing group is best?
I prefer them small because when we meet, we can get through everyone’s stuff in 2-3 hours.

How do you learn to critique?
By doing. [side note: I’m thinking about doing a series on this—any ideas/questions?]

Overview of an appropriate session:
We get together, 20-30 minutes chatting, then do one chapter a piece (10-15 pages). The author reads through those pages aloud. And then we go around the circle and give feedback aloud. We’ve also exchanged manuscripts—then we can blurb each other.

You can also try having each other read it (because they don’t do the inflection, you can see where people trip up on your writing).

You can also time responses if people tend to go on too long.

About the conference: LDStorymakers is a writing contest geared to LDS writers. The conference covers both the niche, regional publishers that cater to the LDS market as well as national publishers.

Technique

Techniques for sympathetic characters

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This entry is part 6 of 11 in the series Creating sympathetic characters

As I mentioned before, I’ve been using the term “sympathetic characters” as shorthand for “characters whom the reader can identify with.” Creating reader identification is the ultimate goal here, because, as James N. Frey says in How to Write a Damn Good Novel, II, a character the reader can identify with is the key to creating the fictive dream—to immersing the reader into the world of the story (not to mention the mind of the character). And in that book, Frey outlines specific techniques to create that reader identification.

Sympathy

Frey goes so far as to say that you have to make the reader feel sorry for the character. I don’t know that I’d say that—but I would say that you have to let the reader see your character struggling. That essentially what Frey conveys—let the reader see the character as lonely, disadvantaged, put upon, sad, confused, unpopular, unfulfilled, imperiled, etc. As Frey concludes:

Sympathy is the doorway through which the reader gains emotional access to a story. Without sympathy, the reader has no emotional involvement in the story. (9-10)

And sympathy is a stepping stone to the next technique:

Identification

The next step is getting the reader to support the character’s goals and aspirations. While a character doesn’t have to be admirable, Frey stresses, the easiest way to get readers to support a character’s goal is to make sure their goal is noble.

And as a side note, it’s good to make that goal clear. It doesn’t have to be the character’s ultimate goal of the story right off the bat, either—but getting that in there pretty soon seldom hurts.

Once you’ve got the reader on board with your character’s noble goals, draw them in deeper with:

Empathy

Now we want to get the reader feeling what the character’s feeling—we want to instill in the reader the same emotions and responses. And, Frey says:

You do it by using the power of suggestion. You use sensuous and emotion-provoking details that suggest to the reader what it is like to be [the character] and to suffer what he is suffering. In other words, you create the story world in such a way that the readers can put themselves in the character’s place. . . .

You can win empathy for a character by detailing the sensuous details in the environment: the sights, sounds, pains, smells, and so on that the character is feeling‐the feelings that trigger his emotions. (19)

This doesn’t mean that every sad sack character should be trudging through the pouring rain (to the courthouse to try to win his freedom from a wrongful conviction)—though it might help. It does mean, however, that it helps for the character to take notice of his environs, and for them to mirror (or, possibly, contrast or mock) his internal emotional state.

But wait! There’s more! And the last step to fully transporting the reader is one we’ve mentioned here before:

Inner conflict

It’s not enough to have the characters struggling against some external forces (to gain sympathy)—we must also see them battling internally. This is the last step here because we need the readers to fully support the character’s goals and feel what they’re feeling before an internal moral debate will matter to the reader.

But once we have the readers feeling what the characters are feeling, then we can use internal conflict to fully transport the reader into the character’s head and the world of the story.

Frey’s book How to Write a Damn Good Novel, II was the one of the best resources I found for detailing the actual techniques of fostering reader’s sympathy for characters (and if this all seems very abstract here, check out the book—it’s replete with examples to make his points clearer, as well as his full arguments, which are much better stated than my summaries).

As I mentioned before, “Sympathy without Saintliness” by Alicia Rasley is another great resource—an online article with a few exercises at the end to help you increase your character’s sympathetic factor. Also, Julie Write posted an “unlovable character checklist” of factors you can use to get your readers onboard with even the most unlovable characters over on Writing on the Wall.

What do you think? How have you striven to create characters your readers can understand and cheer for?

Photo credits: Name tag—Sanja Gjenero; “Rain” (waterfall)—Flávio Takemoto

Reading

All’s Fair by Julie Coulter Bellon – Review

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The Shepherd family is going through some tough times. Their son, Brandon, is one of two Army doctors taken prisoner by Iraqi insurgents. Their daughter, Kristen, almost marries a man who was stealing their money, and runs into the childhood friend who broke her heart. And that’s just the beginning of their week.

I’m a big fan of stories with disparate, related storylines that eventually coalesce, so I loved the way these two storylines were woven together. I also really liked how realistic Julie made both main characters and their professions—I know she did her research on Iraq with people on the ground there, and, being a political type (former American Heritage TA, what can I say?), I found Kristen’s job as a political strategist fascinating.

I was, of course, all ready to lecture the Iraqi insurgents about the Human Predicament—the cycle between anarchy and tyranny. This was a textbook example of that cycle (skip to the next paragraph if you don’t want to hear it!): tyranny leads to discontent and revolution, which leads to anarchy. In the power vacuum, the people struggle for basic needs and safety. Groups compete for power, often promising to restore order. Eventually one group emerges supreme and assumes the role of tyrant all over again. (They didn’t listen to me, either, even though I can offer a few solutions.)

I read this book in one evening. However, I wouldn’t have minded if it had been a bit longer—I would have liked more development in the romantic storylines, especially the one in Iraq. Two full storylines like this is a lot to handle in less than 200 pages, of course.

All’s Fair was a fun, fast read—I even got my husband to read it. (I’ll let you know what he thinks.)

Technique

Perfection isn’t appealing

This entry is part 5 of 11 in the series Creating sympathetic characters

Sympathetic characters are absolutely vital to good (readable!) fiction. We’ve already mentioned that two things combined make characters sympathetic: strength and struggles.

But if a little strength and a little struggling are good things, then why not a lot of strength or a lot of struggles? Isn’t a super strong character going to be even more sympathetic than one who has some problems? Or maybe piling on the pain endlessly will make a character even more sympathetic?

Okay, you guessed it—just like a character who just gets more and more bad stuff piled on, a character who’s easily and confidently stronger than every challenge he faces isn’t really sympathetic.

Not by Strength Alone

A character who’s just a bundle of strengths has no struggles. He takes everything in stride, and everything continually works out for him. Here’s why:

Jeremy stared at the flames leaping from the third-story windows. There were three children unaccounted for. He took a deep breath and barreled through the open doorway, up the stairs, around corner after corner. The distant cries for help finally reached his ears over the cacophonous crackling. The children—trapped behind a locked door.

He threw his full weight against the door—it splintered at the massive force. He scooped up the children, two in his right, one his is left, and ran back down the stairs.

Jeremy gasped for a cool breath as he burst through the doorway to the outside. The headmistress held out her arms for a child and he held out one of them, smudged and bedraggled but alive. She clutched the boy to her chest, her eyes shining with admiration. “You’re our hero,” she said.

Is Jeremy strong? Brave? Courageous? Yeah, he’ll be getting a key to the city for his heroism. But interesting? Sympathetic? Kind of—but I think most people would like to think they’d be willing to help someone in danger. Everything works out really easily for Jeremy. He’s strong enough, he’s brave enough, and doggone it, people like him. I mean, um, he’s fast enough, and he never really doubts his ability to perform an extraordinary feat.

Ever notice how much dang kryptonite there seems to be floating around Superman’s story world? It’s almost more prevalent than air. Why do movie makers and screenwriters always dig up more of this stuff? Because watching a totally invincible man of steel defeat a dastardly enemy is entertaining for about four seconds. After that, it’s predictable—heck, it’s trite.

Try this one instead:

What was he doing in here? He was no hero. And now the heat and the smoke made it impossible to walk, to see, to think.

He crawled up the stairs, ducking his head down to the treads to catch a breath of oxygen as he groped along through the smoke. He could hear them screaming—for him, for anyone who could save them.

Could he?

Timothy reached out for the next riser, but found nothing—the second floor. With one hand on the wall, he made his way to the first door. The doorknob was cool. Safe to open. He pushed the door, but the child’s cries remained distant.

He clambered across the hall, gasping in the inch of hot airspace above the carpet. Another door—another cool doorknob. He opened the door and the screams for help grew louder. With a last breath of the burning oxygen, Timothy launched himself toward where the bed should be. He felt the sheets and seized a tiny wrist.

The child clung to his chest, Timothy supporting his weight with one hand whenever he could as they stumbled back to the stairs. But Timothy miscalculated—that first step was so much further than it seemed, but suddenly there was no floor beneath him and they tumbled, father and son, down the staircase.

Sprawled in a heap at the base of the staircase, he couldn’t take time to inventory their injuries. It couldn’t be that much further—when had their house gotten this big? Yanking the boy to his feet, Timothy willed his unwilling limbs to push back through the black and the heat, promising his protesting lungs fresh air if his body could just get them outside.

And then they were falling—falling? The front door—the front steps. The heat still blinded him, but suddenly his coughs were punctuated by gasps of cool night air as he landed on the pavement.

Do you feel the triumph now? Are you rooting for our hero to get through his difficulties? Note that Tim’s challenges aren’t as physically daunting as Jeremy’s were. Timothy doesn’t have to break down a door or carry out three orphans to impress us—he just has to overcome difficulties and insecurities.

Just like a character who’s all struggles is static, a character who’s all strength has nowhere to grow. We read to see that character growth—and that character growth is where we become sympathetic with those characters.

What do you think? Have you ever read (or written) a character that was just too strong? Or is there no such thing?

Image credit: Stefanie L.