Editorial Anonymous' Identity Revealed!
Are you intrigued? Curious? Can't wait to find out more?
That's how I want my readers to feel when they open my book.
And, yes, I totally made up the title to get you to read this post, because I don't believe in giving my stories false, exciting hooks, and thus have a very important question that I didn't want you to miss:
How, as a reader, do you connect readers with your character at the beginning of the story? What makes you, as a reader, connect with a character at all? What is that magical scenario, that balance between information and voice, situation development and character development?
I'm not sure why, but I've always been drawn to reading and writing characters with a lot of...shall we say, room for growth. They're not exactly...nice. But they are spunky.
Here's some examples of what I'm talking about:
#1: “When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too...
...So when she was a sickly, fretful, ugly little baby she was kept out of the way, and when she became a sickly, fretful toddling thing she was kept out of the way also...
...by the time she was six years old she was as tyrannical and selfish a little pig as ever lived.”
#2: “...Today I chased a rat about the hall with a broom and set the broom afire, ruined my embroidery, threw it in the privy, ate too much for dinner, hid in the barn and sulked, teased the littlest kitchen boy until he cried, turned the mattresses, took the linen outside for an airing, hid from Morwenna and her endless chores, ate supper, brought in the forgotten linen now wet with dew, endured scolding and slapping from Morwenna, pinched Perkin, and went to bed.”
Okay, it seems so obvious now that I write it out, but I believe the answer is clarity. In each example, the author got around very quickly (again, in the first two pages) to letting us know why her character was so hard. Mary Lennox was neglected by parents who thought little of her and soon died; Catherine was treated cruelly and belittled; Katniss was forced to harden herself to protect and provide for the sister she loved. Gosh, who wouldn't be a little rough around the edges in such circumstances?
That's how I want my readers to feel when they open my book.
And, yes, I totally made up the title to get you to read this post, because I don't believe in giving my stories false, exciting hooks, and thus have a very important question that I didn't want you to miss:
How, as a reader, do you connect readers with your character at the beginning of the story? What makes you, as a reader, connect with a character at all? What is that magical scenario, that balance between information and voice, situation development and character development?
I'm not sure why, but I've always been drawn to reading and writing characters with a lot of...shall we say, room for growth. They're not exactly...nice. But they are spunky.
Here's some examples of what I'm talking about:
#1: “When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too...
...So when she was a sickly, fretful, ugly little baby she was kept out of the way, and when she became a sickly, fretful toddling thing she was kept out of the way also...
...by the time she was six years old she was as tyrannical and selfish a little pig as ever lived.”
#2: “...Today I chased a rat about the hall with a broom and set the broom afire, ruined my embroidery, threw it in the privy, ate too much for dinner, hid in the barn and sulked, teased the littlest kitchen boy until he cried, turned the mattresses, took the linen outside for an airing, hid from Morwenna and her endless chores, ate supper, brought in the forgotten linen now wet with dew, endured scolding and slapping from Morwenna, pinched Perkin, and went to bed.”
#3: “...Sitting at Prim's knees, guarding her, is the world's ugliest cat. Mashed-in nose, half of one ear missing, eyes the color of rotting squash. Prim named him Buttercup, insisting that his muddy yellow coat matched the bright flower. He hates me. Or at least distrusts me. Even though it was years ago, I think he still remembers how I tried to drown him in a bucket when Prim brought him home. Scrawny kitten, belly swollen with worms, crawling with fleas. The last thing I needed was another mouth to feed. But Prim begged so hard, cried even, I had to let him stay. It turned out okay. My mother got rid of the vermin and he's a born mouser. Even catches the occasional rat. Sometimes, when I clean a kill, I feed Buttercup the entrails. He has stopped hissing at me.
“Entrails. No hissing. That is the closest we will ever come to love.”
I'm assuming these sound familiar to you. #1: The Secret Garden. #2: Catherine Called Birdy. #3: The Hunger Games. And these examples are all from the first two pages of each book. So why do we love Mary and Catherine and Katniss despite their hard exteriors and harsh beginnings?
Okay, it seems so obvious now that I write it out, but I believe the answer is clarity. In each example, the author got around very quickly (again, in the first two pages) to letting us know why her character was so hard. Mary Lennox was neglected by parents who thought little of her and soon died; Catherine was treated cruelly and belittled; Katniss was forced to harden herself to protect and provide for the sister she loved. Gosh, who wouldn't be a little rough around the edges in such circumstances?
The danger for authors less brilliant than Burnett, Cushman, and Collins, I think, is that it's tempting to leave all this back story as a mystery for the reader to discover later in a breathtaking moment. (Um...or maybe that was only me...) Which would be really great—except everyone will already have put the book down because, let's face it, the character comes across as a brat.
So...sorry for misleading you with that title; I hope my post has provided some clarity as to why I would sink so low as to lie to you, and perhaps I have likewise given some clarity to anyone who was as confused about this matter as I.
Anyway, that's my big idea for the day: clarity. But how would you answer my question? What do you do to strengthen your readers' connection with your character? Please comment so we can all learn from your wisdom!
Ah! I thought my cover was blown!
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you commented on clarity and stress it so much. I can't tell you how many books I've started and then put down (usually forever) because I just can't get a feel for the characters. I often pick up a book and start reading somewhere in the middle of the work, and sometimes these same characters are nebulous personalities.
Although the medium is different, my favorite on-screen character development also follows your concept of clarity. In this particular case we have a major character in a movie famous for its characters, yet he is the least complex of anyone... within the first few minutes we discover that he is handsome, confident, idealistic, outspoken, unwavering, and impassioned... willing to sacrifice himself in exchange for his wife's safety. We quickly see that he represents unwavering political and moral commitment, a symbol of goodness amidst the horrible evil that surrounds him. Yes, this is SEEN in a movie, but the original character development occurred IN WRITING.
I wonder how Joyce Kilmer would have described this Victor Laszlo... or for that matter, the state of the world as portrayed in "Casablanca" ... only one generation after his death.
So... if you are wondering... perhaps I AM Victor Laszlo! Then again, Faith, I enjoy this blog so much that maybe I just want to get you off the hook for a misleading title!
I still struggle with this to be honest. How to get that backstory in, pull those heart strings, make the reader care within paragraphs about the main character, and do so without telling.
ReplyDeleteI try to present the MC's problem asap, using setting and dialogue, whether it be external or internal. And then try to do so with a distinct voice that the reader will want to pay attention to.
In The Secret Garden I am drawn to Mary and find her charming because she has no idea how disagreeable she is. Our mother-daughter book club is reading this now. I haven't read it since I was a kid and it's fun to see it through different adults eyes, as well as see how my eleven year old views Mary and her story.
This is a great post and a great quesion. One I will continue to think on.
Ha! Trickery! I think you've nailed it with the word 'clarity'. The reader wants to know why they should continue reading. Commitment is earned, and the reader needs pay-offs. Detailed information is important, and they want to be in on the know - have inside information. The characters must move the reader in some way. Accomplishing that feat? Hmmmm....
ReplyDeleteCrafty! And very effective. Your title had me hooked. I agree that it's important to give a bit of the "why" upfront. It doesn't take much, though, as each of those examples proved. Great post!
ReplyDeleteI think I get pulled in when I see vulnerability and a personality I like, whether it's because the protagonist is humorous, strong, cheerful, kind, or something else. I think it's important to do this, examine successes we love, and learn from them. Excellent post.
ReplyDeleteI'm struggling with this in my new wip, but I added a touch of sympathy and bravery to make the MC less obnoxious.
ReplyDeleteThank you all so much for your helpful answers to this question. I'm working on a little rewrite of my first few pages right now and I'm excited to take all this into consideration!
ReplyDeleteShoot, I was hoping to find out who I am.
ReplyDeleteSorry, EA. :) That kind of identity crisis can be so annoying, huh?
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you're still alive! We miss your posts, but hopefully you're working on some brilliant projects.