Describing Characters

pinterest: sunshine & gossamer

Two weeks ago I wrote a post on descriptive passages in general, and the topic of how to describe characters came up in the comments.  We all want our readers to draw a vivid and accurate image of our characters from the book.  But how do we manage to plant that image without abusing adjectives?

I don't believe there is one right way to go about this: it's something determined by style.  There are definitely, however, wrong ways of doing it.  We all know those introductory passages where so much is said about the character's beauty/intelligence/ah-MAZing skills that it turns your stomach.  Should we all have ugly, stupid characters, then, so as not to irritate readers?  By no means: oftentimes the fault comes not in the merits of the character, but from the delivery.  I can get just as frustrated with over-described dolts as with over-described geniuses. 

One of the main problems, I believe, with the attempt to describe a character (especially a main character) is that we have this idea that if we devote enough words to his features, we can translate our own mental image into the reader's mind.  But at least for myself, I don't find that to be the case.  The mental image I have of, say, Tip Brighton is probably not the exact image that a reader would piece together; and I doubt that an image I have of another author's character is quite what they had in mind.  The most important means of communicating who a character is have little to do physical descriptors; they're far more visceral - actions and quirks, not bone structure and eye color. 

All that to say, we needn't depend on descriptions to summarize a character.  That isn't to say we should rid ourselves of all descriptions, however, only that less can be more where adjectives are concerned.  The amount of description for any character should be determined by the circumstances of his or her introduction, and by the style of narration.  I mentioned in the comments on my previous post that I tend not to describe my main characters much beyond hair or eye color.  This is because my main characters are my narrators, and even in third-person, it's awkward to have the character appear be describing himself.  (Apparently mirror-scenes are cliche to the nth degree, so I can't recommend them.)

It is possible to get around this in means other than the mirror-scene, though, especially if a novel has two point-of-view characters; I do this a little in The White Sail's Shaking, since I switch between Tip and Marta.  When Marta first meets Tip, there are certain things she fixes on at once: his hair, which is always sticking up, and his laugh, which sounds like a cork coming out a bottle.  When Tip gets to know Marta, he's much more attuned to her looks than she is to his.  (And he has this idea that she's pretty, which is silly, but what can you do?)  If you do have more than one narrating character and they interact, I think it nice to show their first impressions of each other and what features stand out in their eyes.

Another good thing to do - and I mentioned this briefly in a post I did almost a year ago - is to allow other characters to comment on your narrator in subjective terms.  Charlie Bent is always quick to point out how plain Tip is.  (What else are friends for?)  A seaman who rumbles briefly through The White Sail's Shaking very kindly remarks that Marta's features look like a boy's.  I like these dashes of outsiders' thoughts, so long as they are in general and not specific; unless the speaker is lovesick, I doubt they would go into detail about the narrator having blue eyes and perfect teeth.

There's more freedom in describing secondary characters, I find, as long as the setting is appropriate.  Note - if the main character meets a person while they're both running away from the Gestapo, that's not an appropriate setting.  But in normal circumstances, some description from the narrator's eyes is good.  Try to incorporate the main character's feelings, rather than conveying mere lifeless adjectives - it makes it much more enjoyable to read, but also to write.  I just picked up The Lantern Bearers last night, and the first chapter is a good example of this.  The main character, Aquila, has just come home for a visit after a year away and is seeing his sister, who has grown up in that time; the descriptions are tinged with nostalgia and affection.

Emotions are the best means of adding color to the characters on the page, for they introduce the element of subjectivity that gives reality to the mind of the narrator.  No matter how you go about bringing them into play, they must be present.  Without them, people are not people at all and the only images the writer communicates will be of colored carboard-cutouts.

Romance

Romance. It takes up a large majority of the Christian book market, even those that are placed under a different genre (as you may have noticed if you've glanced at the novels labeled "historical fiction"). For those writers who find such books sappy or simply poor imitations of Jane Austen's classic works, it can be tempting to flee romance altogether and to scoff at the idea of writing it. But the fact of the matter is that most stories, particularly ones with female main characters, will end up having some degree of romance in them, and writers must take this into account.

Over on her blog, authoress Rachel Coker recently talked about her reasons for including romance in her novel Interrupted, due to release in February. And, interestingly enough, they were pretty much the reasons that prompted me to do the same with The Soldier's Cross. Originally I resisted the idea of having there be any romance connected with the main character; I didn't want my story to end up being just another romance under the Christian label. But in the end I did it - and not because I knew readers would want that element and that they would hate me if the book didn't have a happy ending. There was in fact one basic reason behind my decision: a writer cannot leave his or her main character at the same place in the end as they were in the beginning. This is especially true for female protagonists like Fiona, who start out the story alone and vulnerable - "uncovered" in the biblical sense of having no male protection. If you leave your character in this position at the end, you leave questions unanswered.

Perhaps one reason why some writers balk at the thought of bringing romance into their stories is that they think of it in its stereotypical form. The hero meets the heroine, there is immediate attraction but seemingly insurmountable obstacles, lots of tension and angst and butterflies in the stomach, the obstacles suddenly give way, hero marries heroine and they live happily ever after. This is the usual formula for romance novels (there are, after all, only six plots in the world) and it is no wonder that some writers shy away from it. I even read a novel a while ago where a character stated that it is impossible for anyone to be in love if they don't have the usual butterflies. But the fact of the matter is that this is not how romance has to play out, especially in novels where it is not the focus of the plot.

Take, for instance, Rosemary Sutcliff. Many or most of her novels deal primarily with themes of friendship, duty, and honor, and yet she also incorporates romance in a refreshing way. Instead of coming packed with angst and emotion, the romance between the young man and the young woman is often more implicit than explicit. The reader is given to understand that the characters love each other; no great show is needed. In Sutcliff's novel Simon, the protagonist only needs to be with the girl in a few scenes for it to be clear that there is an understanding between them, which Sutcliff then establishes in the end.

There are without a doubt wrong ways of bringing romance into a story - too many to list. But there is no one right way of doing it, as evidenced by Sutcliff's approach; she did not tread the well-worn path of romance, and in the end she produced a much more realistic take on love than is usually found in fiction. Every couple in real life is different, and couples in novels ought to be different as well. At the outset ignore, as best you can, the popular or classics romances of fiction, even such enjoyable ones as Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet or Mr. Rochester and Jane Eyre. Consider your hero and your heroine, who they are, how they think, and how they emote. Think about backstory and how it might affect the manner in which they love. Are they the type to love passionately or to love quietly? Does the romance need to be blatant, or can it be a quiet understanding? If you are writing historical fiction, don't dismiss the cultural norms or forget how the people would have acted. If you're writing fantasy, remember that every culture has those norms and try to incorporate them. There are so many variables to take into account, and these are what will make the romance unique.

There was an anxious strain in her voice, though she was evidently trying to conceal it, and it sent a warm, almost lazy contentment through Tip like the sunshine he had been dozing in. She did care, and though the thought did not thrill him as her kiss had, it pleased him—and somehow that was more satisfying.

- the white sail's shaking

She Thought Her Heart Would Break

Question number four (-ish) on You Haven't Got an Appointment! was put by Londongirl, who asked

How do you write a sad, emotional scene without making it seem sappy or forced?

First of all, I'm flattered that you thought the scenes in The Soldier's Cross met this difficult hurtle! Emotion can be a very hard thing to capture, but, when done right, it also provides some of the best dramatic scenes; done incorrectly, the scene becomes melodramatic instead. So how does one manage to convey emotions, whether it be fear or anger, tension or sorrow, without falling into the trap of being ridiculous and cliche?

Probably the most important element of writing emotion is knowing your character. I won't go so far as to say that the whole issue boils down to that one thing, but I will say that if it boils down to anything, that's what I would expect to find left in the pot. Individual characters will react differently to traumatic events, just as individual people in real life will; there is no cut-and-dry solution which allows you to say, "If the event is a death, the main character will feel this way," and, "If the protagonist is insulted, he will react like that." In every story you write, you should find the protagonist a little different from the one in the novel you wrote previously. Get to know your character; this may mean filling out pages upon pages of interview questions, or it may mean simply continuing to write and learning by trial and error. When you begin to understand what makes that person tick, you'll be better able to write those dramatic scenes.

As to the nuts and bolts of writing an emotion-packed scene, these are a little more difficult. I wouldn't venture to give a dogmatic answer, but I can give some suggestions that you may or may not find helpful - hopefully you will! First off, recognize that in the early scenes of a story, you probably won't get the character's reaction quite right on the first try. I wrote a good 40,000 words of The White Sail's Shaking before I had a handle on Tip's character, and I had to go back and rewrite the early chapters. Don't deceive yourself into thinking that you won't have to edit, and you'll begin to realize that there is no point in being too hard on yourself the first time through. Relax.

Second, as you write (or before you write, if you like to warm up before you start in on a scene), put yourself in the place of the character to the best of your ability. What would you feel like if someone were coming at you with a knife? Or, to use the example that Londongirl did from my own story, how would you react if someone told you your brother was dead? Try - again, to the best of your ability - to see things with the eyes of your character. K.M Weiland on her blog Wordplay frequently emphasizes the importance of using all five senses in description (not all at the same time) - smelling, hearing, tasting, and feeling as well as seeing. It might help to consider each of these as you write out a scene, then hone in on the ones you feel are most important.

Third, don't forget the little things. I mentioned in a post some months ago how marvelously Rosemary Sutcliff conveys emotion through small things. You may be inclined to think that in the midst of something traumatic a character wouldn't notice details, but this isn't always the case; the mind often fixates on strange details like an odd smell or a particular color. Incorporating something like that to a highly emotional scene helps to set off the character's emotions without forcing the author to relate his or her feelings point by point.

And then, of course, look beyond the cliche! Think about how you can describe reactions and emotions in a fresh manner. Give the old phrases a new twist or look at an emotion from a different angle, and see what you come up with when you do. After all, isn't that part of the fun of writing?

Characters and Music

Music is like painting without paint, description without necessarily using words. In a way it transcends both of those in its power to evoke emotion; it has an otherworldly aspect. I know some people are more geared toward it than others, and I'm not one of those who cannot survive without it, but I find it fascinating how linked music is to the human soul.

So with that said, I dug up some of the music that either inspired my characters or novels, or that I found especially applicable to the characters or novels, and here it is.

The Soldier's Cross

Fiona - Daughter of Grace by Twila Paris. The spirit of the song, the coming to the end of one's self and finding that Grace is the only thing to save, characterizes Fiona's search for peace and her loneliness through The Soldier's Cross.

She sat down inside to wait, to rest her mind awhile
No use trying to fight with fate, or fake a smile
There she found the end of herself
Heard a small voice crying for help

Leah - Windows in the World by Andrew Peterson. The way these lyrics reflect what C.S. Lewis called "sehnsucht" - a joyful, heartbreaking longing for something beyond this world - is perfect for Leah's nature. Fiona's first thought on meeting her is that her soul seems to be shining through her body like a star, and Andrew Peterson's song captured that idea.

It’s the way the clouds are burning from the angle of the light
as the earth is slowly turning you to meet it.
And you’re watching at your window at the ending of the night--
it’s as plain as day so any fool could see it: it’s a window in the world.

Pierre - I'm not sure Pierre really has a song, but the nearest I could come up with was Boy Like Me / Man Like You by Rich Mullins. It isn't perfect, but it reflects to some degree Pierre's boyishness and the way he grows into a man.

Did they tell you stories about the saint of old?
Stories about their faith?
They say stories like that make a boy grow bold
Stories like that make a man walk straight.

Wordcrafter

Justin King [the wordcrafter] - Justin gets two songs. Just because. His first would be Brother, Stand Beside Me by Heather Dale*. That song, although it concerns King Arthur's last stand, captures, in a way, the whole thrust of Wordcrafter (because no one has set Kipling's "The Thousandth Man" to music). His other song is instrumental: A Gift of Thistle, from the Braveheart soundtrack*. The soft sadness of it has an element in it that reminded me of Justin at times.

Brother, stand beside me - Brother, lend your arm
Brother, stand beside me - Brother, lend your arm
See the weakness in the world
And choose to be strong
Let them sing, let them sing our praises when we've gone.

Ethan Prince [the hound] - And Ethan gets two as well, because Justin got two and of course one must be fair. The solidness of If I Stand by Rich Mullins makes it Ethan's first, but it has a joyful theme as well that also fits him. In Wordcrafter I did not get "inside" Ethan's head, as the story unfolds from Justin's perspective, but this song depicts his mindset, his foundation, quite well. And then his second song is the instrumental The Blood of Cu Chullain by Mychael Danna and Jeff Danna. It is perfectly wild and vivid - and is also one of my favorite songs.

So if I stand let me stand on the promise
that You will pull me through
And if I can't, let me fall on the grace
that first brought me to You.
And if I sing let me sing for the joy
that has born in me these songs
And if I weep, let it be as a man
who is longing for his home.

Jamie Fairbairn [the vixen] - When the Coyote Comes by Fernando Ortega. The bouncy, slightly dark tune fits Jamie and the coyote in the lyrics is a good analogy to her.

The night heats up when the coyote comes
He won't rest till his work is done
Critters flee when he comes around
Some won't make it home...

Copper - Love Theme from the Merlin soundtrack. I couldn't find an actual song that fit her, and her quiet nature is better suited to an instrumental piece. The sweetness of the Love Theme is just perfect.

The White Sail's Shaking

Tip Brighton - Let Mercy Lead by Rich Mullins. Something of an odd choice for the kind of character he is, but the tune and the chorus seemed to fit. Perhaps because it is a "growing" song, and Tip does a lot of that through the story. Perhaps because the concept of mercy worked itself more into the novel than I was expecting at the start. Anyhow, it fit.

Let mercy lead
Let love be the strength in your legs
And in every footprint that you leave
There'll be a drop of grace

Marta Rais - Storm by Fernando Ortega. Much of her story is her coming to grips with life, now that so much that was "life" for her is taken away. I love the tenderness of the song, and the way it is both a love song and something more. I love it so much and all of it is so fitting, I had a hard time deciding which bit to use here.

It takes the rain between the lines to know what sorrow finds
The way the cloud divides sometimes
The clearing and the blue...
I love you.

Charlie Bent - He got two. So much for "fairness"; the main character didn't get two. Anyhow, one song that particularly reminds me of Charlie is Owl City's To the Sky. I'm not a big fan of most of Owl City's songs (the lyrics don't make any sense, and I like lyrics to make sense), but for one reason or another the synthesizer-strong tune and the optimistic feel suits Charlie - when he is feeling upbeat. His other song, however, goes down to the other end of his mood-spectrum: After the Last Tear Falls by Andrew Peterson. The sadness and the almost (but not quite) hopelessness captures his other side.

After the last tear falls
After the last secret's told
After the last bullet tears through flesh and bone...
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love
Love, love, love
There is love.

Jo Darkwood - Sweet Grace by Fernando Ortega. Because Darkwood left a sweetheart back home, and because he never really wanted to go to sea in the first place.

I thought I heard your voice last night
Carried on the wind
Singing lines from old songs,
Calling out all our names again.

So, what songs are especially fitting for your characters?

*I don't recommend all of Heather Dale's songs, nor have I watched Braveheart; I just like the soundtrack. The image for Brother, Stand Beside Me is from the Front Street cover of The Mark of the Horse Lord by Rosemary Sutcliff. All usual disclaimers apply.

The Small Things

Yesterday I finished rereading one of my sister's favourite novels, The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff. I read it years ago, but I had forgotten how much I liked it until I bought it (she carried off all our Sutcliff books when she married, and now I'm having to build up my own stash) and started it. I had forgotten how Sutcliff sweeps you away to another place; I had forgotten how beautiful her writing is. There were a dozen things I loved about the book - the main characters (Esca!), the minor characters (Uncle Aquila!), the descriptions (Etruria!) - but one of the things that stood out to me most was Sutcliff's ability to evoke emotion through small things. She could make an inanimate object or an animate being symbolic of so much, and I loved the way she employed this here and there throughout the novel.

The Rose Bush When Marcus takes command of the cohort at Isca Dumnoniorum, he notices a rose bush, just beginning to bloom, that was planted years ago by some predecessor. The pot-bound plant reminds him of his family's farm in Etruria, which was sold after his father's and mother's deaths, and also links him to the past and the Romans who came before him in the frontier fort. Through the months he commands Isca Dumnoniorum he watches the rose bloom; but after the native British uprising, when Marcus is told that, due to a bad wound to his leg, he is being discharged from the Legions, winter is coming on. As Marcus watches his career - and the only life he ever expected to follow - slip away, the rose loses its last petal.

"Now that he could sit up, he could look out into the courtyard, and see the rose-bush in its wine-jar, just outside his window. There was still one crimson rose among the dark leaves, but even as he watched, a petal fell from it like a great slow drop of blood. Soon the rest would follow. He had held his first and only command for just as long as the rose-bush had been in flower..."

Cub Cub, the wolf pup that Esca brings home to Marcus after a hunt, does not at first glance seem to come into the story much; he is left at home when Marcus and Esca set out to find the lost Eagle, after all. But Sutcliff draws parallel between the collared wolf-cub and Esca the slave, the Briton of the tribe of the Brigantes who was taken captive and made into a gladiator. The time comes when Marcus has to take Cub's collar off and give him the chance to return to the wild; and the time also comes when he has to give Esca his freedom, and allow him the chance to return to his own people.

"And watching him, Marcus remembered suddenly and piercingly the moment that afternoon when he had taken off Cub's collar. Cub had come back to him; but Esca?"

The Signet Ring Marcus' clearest memory of his father is of him standing in the courtyard of the farm in Etruria, the sunlight glinting on the flawed emerald and dolphin of his great signet ring, the ring that links many of Sutcliff's novels together over generations. Like the Eagle itself, it is a bond between Marcus and his father, a bond of family and honour, of strength and loyalty.

"Looking back across the years, Marcus remembered that his father's eyes had been very bright, like the eyes of a man going into action; and the light had caught suddenly in the great flawed emerald of the signet-ring he always wore, striking from it a spark of clear green fire. Strange how one remembered things like that: little things that somehow mattered."

The Olive-Wood Bird On the farm in Etruria there was an olive tree with a gall, which Marcus, as a child, cut off and carved into a bird and has carried with him for years as a reminder of that beautiful place. It is his last physical tie to the farm, which he had hoped to buy back after he earned enough in the army, and in the long days and nights where Britain feels cold and foreign to him, the olive-wood bird is a sign of home. When Marcus burns it as an offering during the hunt for the Eagle, his old life seems to be burning away as well.

"But a new life, a new beginning, had warmed out of the grey ash, for himself, and Esca, and Cottia; perhaps for other people, too; even for an unknown downland valley that would one day be a farm."