Reality in characters?

What I'm reading: Bones, by Jonathan Kellerman

Following through on yesterday's post about things that can 'date' novels, I recall my first writing mentor chastising me for describing a scene where a group of volunteers was repairing a house to "the barn raising scene in Witness." She called it 'cheating' to use someone else's description. Given how long it's been since Witness came out now, it would have also dated the book, although I suppose it's on television often enough that people who weren't even born when it hit the theaters have seen it several times.

What about character descriptions? One question that crops up in blog interviews is, "Who would play your characters if they made your book into a movie?" (Sorry, hubby, but it's probably not going to happen in this lifetime, but hang in there). I'm not a movie-going person, and don't watch a lot of television. I'd be hard-pressed to conjure up images of the latest celebrities if an author used them to describe a character. So, not only would they date the book, they might be lost on readers.

I prefer to paint my characters with much broader strokes, and let the readers fill in the details with their own images. Diana Gabaldon says the same thing: she refuses to answer the question because she wants readers to keep whatever images they've got of Jamie and Claire.

I'm not much into paranormal or YA books, so the Twilight phenomenon has passed me by. However it's buzzing around the blog circuit now that the movie is out, and it's interesting to follow the threads where people have been 'disappointed' because the characters didn't match the visions they brought into the theater with them.

When I started writing, I wrote Highlander fan fiction, and the characters were already defined. When I adapted one of my short story ideas into What's in a Name?, the hero, Blake Windsor, bore an uncanny resemblance to Duncan MacLeod. However, I had to go in and describe him in more detail, because the novel was not a Highlander story, and readers needed to see Blake. But the first time we see Blake, I don't bother with a lot of detail. Partly because Kelli, the heroine, is trying to get rid of him, so she's not going to spend a lot of time analyzing every facial feature, and partly because I didn't want to stop the progress of the story and make the reader remember a lot of details. So, this is all we see:

She inched the door open. Swallowed. Twice. A man waited on her porch, wearing jeans and a windbreaker over a black turtleneck, holding an olive-green duffel bag. He stood at least six-two, with black hair that hung almost to his shoulders. Even the fact that his face and a razor hadn’t kept company in several days didn’t detract from his raw good looks.

“I’m Kelli.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. Dark chocolate brown, they grabbed and wouldn’t let go.

I'd rather the reader fill in the blanks for what constitutes "raw good looks."

Today's Gratitude List:
1. Nit-picky crit partners who make me think.
2. No school this week, so no traffic on the way to the Y
3. Richard, my hairdresser, who is one of my best promoters.

More on character channeling

What I'm reading: The Brass Verdict, by Michael Connelly.

More tidbits from Alicia Rasley's workshop.

A character's defenses will fall apart as you get farther into the book, especially regarding falling in love. After all, most romances begin with two characters who definitely are NOT in love at the beginning.

She stressed choosing the right POV for scenes, and as an exercise had us write a scene where a character walks across the room and puts a hand on the doorknob. We did it first in 3^rd person, and then in 1^st. First person, for most of us, allowed us to be much deeper into the character (although there's the fact that we already knew the basic situation after writing it the first time, plus she gave us a little longer for the second part).

Emotion drives characters to wanting what they want, and getting what they get.

Fiction should be equal to, not true. A story should become itself in the reading. Fiction is metaphor. And, she reminded us, let the reader figure stuff out. Don't tell everything.

She also spent some time on dealing with eliciting emotion in readers.

Some suggestions and examples:

Where to set the scene – coming home after Mom's funeral might have more impact than a 'tear jerker' at the cemetery.

Don't rush to the 'punch line.'

Create opposition in other characters so sympathy comes from the reader (but don't make the protagonist just a victim, which would lead to pity, not empathy.)

Use props-the character can search the closet for a special toy for a hospitalized child.

Try taking all the emotion-laden words out of the scene to see if the emotion is still there.

Speaking is tough in emotionally charged situations – watch the 'spilling of guts.'

Have the character try NOT to feel.

Break some punctuation and grammar rules (but know them first) to convey emotion.

Use the emotional event as the scene setting. The emotion is the background. Showing the aftermath of someone's death (funeral planning, donating clothes to charity) can be more emotion packed than the deathbed scene.

Show emotion in character interactions – conversations that hedge the topic, veer off, focus the emotion on the other character. Character might talk about what a survivor will do rather than focus on his impeding death, etc.

Steps back a little and keeps some distance. Self pity doesn't work. "If the character cries, the reader doesn't have to."