A character worth caring about

Rick's post about the universal appeal of stories got me thinking – what makes a good story? One clue could be found in Tom's excellent post of last week and in the words of one person in the comments section:  emotion is "the beating heart of writing".

It's a timely reminder to all writers that no matter how beautiful our words or how thrilling our tale, readers are unlikely to keep reading if they are not emotionally invested. Stories are about characters, even if that character is a dog or horse. Not cardboard cut-out characters, not two-dimensional superheroes, not people who are defined only by an unusual talent or quirk, but characters with all the hopes and dreams and struggles and flaws that people can relate to.

Everyone can relate to this!

Somerset Maugham is credited with the famous saying; "There are three rules to writing a novel. Unfortunately no one knows what they are." I usually begin my writing workshops by giving this quote, because I believe everyone writes a novel differently and has to discover what works for them. There are far too many "how to" books out there which claim to lay out the secret steps to a perfect novel, and in my opinion, that way lies formulaic, derivative writing that fails to allow your truly creative self to blossom.

That's not to say there are no skills and tools of the craft to be mastered; a writer should be constantly learning and improving, not only from books and workshops but also by reading great novels. And over time, they will discover the rules that work for them and guide them in the creation of their best work.   In that spirit, having started my workshop with Somerset Maugham's quote, I then tell attendees that for me, there are four key elements to a good story. I am talking about crime novels, but I think the same applies to other genres. These elements are linked together, but over the next four blogs, I am going to try to tease them apart to discuss each in turn.

In keeping with Tom's post, the first element is a character worth caring about. There can be more than one character worth caring about, of course, but at the very least there should be one. It can be the protagonist, the victim, or even the "villain". Worth caring about is not synonymous with likeable. It represents a deeper level of identification and engagement. Something about the character should touch you in a way that makes you care about what happens to them and makes you want to spend three hundred pages with them to find out how they end up. If you have ever watched a TV show or read a book that has no character you cared about, you probably didn't finish the book or watch the next episode.

I've wrestled with how to define what makes a character worth caring about. Although positive traits are part of it – few readers want to spend time with a despicable character– I think caring comes not from being likeable, charming, funny, or brave, but from layers, flaws, conflicting desires, and a personal issue they are struggling with. Readers care about different things and identify with different struggles, but generally the more your character wrestles with a universal challenge like love, loss, loneliness, fear, or anger, the more likely the reader will identify and care about them.

The word worth is an essential part of my phrase. Is the character worthy of the reader's investment? Characters who are shallow, frivolous, silly, boring, or facing a superficial challenge are usually not worth our time (nor do they pique our interest), unless the frivolity is in itself a challenge they recognize and wrestle with as they seek a deeper meaning or commitment. But often when writers try to give their characters a meaningful challenge, they fall into cliches or superficiality themselves. The burnt-out cop, the loser in search of redemption, and the brave young widow(er) in search of a new start have all been done to death, so the writer has to work hard to make that character and their situation unique. Similarly giving a character a quirk like second sight, illness, autism, OCD, or disability is no substitute for making that character real, unique, and full rounded.

These are some of my thoughts about what makes a character intriguing enough to draw us in. It doesn't have to be complex or heavy-handed. I'm sure my dogs in the simple photo have already tugged at a few heartstrings and everyone wants to know what happens to them.

Weekend Guest--Tammy Kaehler

When Tammy Kaehler discovered the racing world, she was hooked by the contrast between its top-dollar, high-drama competition, and friendly, family atmosphere. Mystery fans and racing insiders alike have praised her award-winning Kate Reilly Mystery Series (Dead Man’s Switch, Braking Points, Avoidable Contact, and Red Flags), and Tammy takes readers back behind the wheel in her fifth entry, Kiss The Bricks. She works as a freelance writer in Southern California, where she lives with her husband and many cars. Find out more: www.tammykaehler.com.

Don’t Judge a Book by Its Hook

I turned the television on last weekend to watch the Kentucky Derby. It’s not totally out of character: I grew up riding horses and went to plenty of races, since I lived a mile from a horse racetrack. But as another auto racing fan said on Twitter, “I’m watching the Kentucky Derby, because I like all racing.”

But these days, my racing of choice typically has hundreds of horsepower, not just one (sorry, that’s the easy joke). And the races I watch or attend usually last longer than a couple minutes. But still, I turned on the Derby—while simultaneously searching for the article I’d seen earlier in the day: Derby storylines.

See, it’s easy to say “Tammy likes racing” or “I write about racing.” That’s the quickest and most memorable hook about my mystery series, and I do a lot to promote my racing approach (you may have seen me in racing team gear at a mystery convention). But of course the simplified message never tells the whole tale.

Because as much as it’s about racing for me, it’s more about the stories. Last weekend, I wanted to know the details behind the Derby runners and teams. When I’m at an auto race, I wander the paddock looking for the buzz around the drivers and teams. I like setting everyday characters, problems, challenges, wins, and losses against the backdrop of a gritty but glamorous pursuit. Racing is a microcosm of the real world, with every type of person from crook to hero to celebrity—and the added drama of a lot of money and life-or-death stakes.

I write about auto racing like Dick Francis wrote about steeplechasing. Like Cara Black writes about Paris. Like Patricia Cornwell writes about a medical examiner. Like Michael Connelly writes police procedurals. That’s not all our books are, but those are the settings for (hopefully) universal stories.

What I choose to write about is a woman who’s trying to be successful in an uber-competitive, male-dominated arena. She’s got to deal with sexism, the struggle to represent herself well to the rest of the world (especially to sponsors that will fund her racing), and the pressure to be outstanding at her job. Don’t tell me that’s not a universal story! Of course, where Kate Reilly differs from the rest of us (I assume) is that she ends up needing to investigate murders and other crimes.

But all of that took a paragraph to describe, and when you have ten seconds to tell someone what you write, you go with the hook—and don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have one that stands out. And I’m guilty, too! I’ve caught myself thinking, “I don’t want to read about beermaking, I don’t like beer” and “I don’t want to read about Cleveland, that doesn’t sound exciting.”

But I’m getting better at the snap judgments. The decisions made based only on the surface information. I’m trying to dig deeper, too. I’m trying to see beyond the hook (or the cover) and find out more about the story. Because I know there are a lot of great stories out there, and I want to read them all…

So tell me, do you find yourself making the same kind of judgments about a hook or a cover? What influences you to check out a book?