Too Many Characters

Too Many Characters

You sometimes find yourself writing a story with a lot of characters. A jury trial, for example, or a large family, or a gang. At times, it is unavoidable; you don’t usually call two nasty people a gang and you can’t pretend in your memoir that you don’t have six siblings.

But the writing problem created by this can be indistinguishable characters. The reader can’t keep the different people straight. Is Mary the crazy cousin or the successful lawyer? Didn’t Alfred die a couple of chapters ago? This makes for at least confusing and often annoying reading.

Dealing with many characters

Dickens dealt with this question by giving his players memorable names. Mr. Pumblechook and Uriah Heep from Great Expectations, Peggotty from David Copperfield, etc. This is not usually a device open to the modern writer unless there is comic intent. But you can tackle this issue in other ways.

Don’t use similar names. In particular, don’t start major figures’ names, or minor ones who interact with the major ones, with the same letter. Mary talking to Marg about Melanie. I understand that there might be some reluctance to rename relatives in your memoir, so if ‘John’ is a tradition in your family, you will have to work really hard to ensure that the reader has a distinctive picture of each ‘John.’ This may not suit the story to elaborate on every ‘John’ kicking around, so you may need to consistently use another identifier. ‘Cambridge John’ or ‘Toronto John’ could help.

If you can, also steer clear of similar sounding names—Hamish and Amish, Bonnie and Ronnie.

Focus on a few. In the classic jury trial, 12 Angry Men, we don’t get to know all twelve jurors equally well. The screen writer focused on a few to interact with Henry Fonda, the hero of the piece. The other jurors might throw in the occasional independent comment or contribute to the general disagreement with Henry Fonda’s character, but they don’t get highlighted.

This is probably true for your narrative. Even with a cast of hundreds, you still need to concentrate on telling the story of relatively few.

Introduce them one at a time. Although you won’t want to spend as much time as you would with a primary figure, introduce each of the minor figures you want to include one at a time. Doesn’t have to be a long scene but pairing the new character with an already established one will help fix the new player in the reader’s mind.

Include a cast of characters. If all else fails, you can include a cast of characters at the beginning of the novel. And believe me, I was very grateful for the list when reading many Russian novels.

Doesn’t this take focus away from the main protagonist?

You may be concerned that spending time introducing the minor characters will take the focus away from the central character. First of all, remember that you only need to do this with the relatively few of the cast who will interact with the hero of the novel. Secondly, pairing the protagonist with the minor character being introduced can also be used to learn something more about the main figure by how he deals with the minor ones.

Typically, exploring the interactions among a few characters in a novel is both easier to write (I’m not saying ‘easy’) but also clearer for the reader. But if your heart is set on a trilogy of sweeping historical novels, you can use these techniques to avoid making the reader work harder than he has to and risking breaking the continuous dream.

May 5, 2023April 24, 2023

Conversation versus Fictional Dialog

Here’s how a real conversation goes:

“Hi, Jen,” I said.

“Hi, Frances,” she replied. “Can you believe the weather?”

“Unbelievable. They’re predicting more snow tomorrow.”

“And then the temperature is going up so there might be freezing rain.”

I shook her head. “I can’t wait for spring.”

“Me, too. Hey, did you see the news last night?”

“I know, would you believe the gall of the guy?”

Okay, I’ll stop it there. We’ve all had these conversations and there is nothing wrong with them as lubricant to social interaction. But as dialog, they are deadly and break the unwritten laws of fiction of which your reader is unaware but you ignore at your peril.

The problem with real life

Let’s assume the conversation above is intended as fictional dialog. What’s wrong with it?

First, it is just noise unless your story is about an impending tornado or the comeuppance of the guy with the gall (but if it is one or the other, one part of the conversation is unneeded). Readers get bored with extraneous stuff and quit reading.
Second, the dialog doesn’t have a purpose. By that I mean, it doesn’t move the story forward, either by showing something about the characters we need to know or by disclosing part of the plot.

How to make your dialog read like conversation

The answer is not to vow, “Right, I’m going to decide the purpose of this dialog before I start writing.” If you do, you’ll probably end up with quite a stilted scene. Let the dialog flow as it might in conversation (minus the extraneous bits), but get to the point quickly.

Another equally effective way is to write the initial draft of the dialog as feels right. When you have finished the story and are in edit mode, consider each piece of dialog to see whether it contributes to the story or character development. If it does, great. Doubt? Try to identify how it helps the story. If you can’t, this might be a candidate for the chopping block.

Conversation revisited

Let’s redo the conversation above to make it useful dialog in a story. The first redo is if the story is about an impending tornado and the second about the galling guy.

Impending tornado

“My god, did you see the weather forecast?” Jen asked.

“I know, tornadoes! That’s crazy this far north,” I said. “And on top of all the snow and freezing temperatures.”

“This has got to be climate change,” she said.

Story might end up being about climate change; might not. But this version immediately introduces the main topic. No greetings, no small talk.

Galling guy

Jen tossed her bag on her desk. “Did you see McFarlane on the news last night?”

“Unbelievable,” I said. “The gall of the guy.”

“He’ll stoop to anything.”

“Of course, will anybody be able to prove that he’s lied?”

Same thing—use the dialog to move the story forward even if it is simply setting the scene for more complicated events later.

Conversation is actually quite different from dialog in that it doesn’t need to go somewhere whereas dialog does. Another example of where saying “But that’s how it really happened,” gets the response, “And what’s your point?”

April 7, 2023March 23, 2023

Deathless Prose

Whether we admit it or not, deep down and at 2:00 in the morning, we think that every piece of prose we write is a gem which must be preserved. That’s why writers keep copies of everything they’ve ever written (you know you do). I create an ‘extras’ file into which I deposit all the bits of writing which don’t fit this story but might have a place in some other piece of deathless prose. (Almost never happens.)

And honestly, why shouldn’t we? Don’t we write because we have something to say? Didn’t we start this journey for that reason? Why delete our attempts to do so?

Yes, of course, but I think we all need to get over ourselves. Keep all the files, by all means, but we need to lose the idea that every piece is worthy of publication.

Writing prose for the sake of

I know this sounds harsh but if we expect/assume that everything we write has to be published, it discourages writing. You may avoid:

Learning a particular technique like foreshadowing or flashback
Working out a problem in the story
Doing backstory to understand the character better
Experimenting with different endings, openings, characters, etc.

Worst of all, assuming that everything you write should be published can morph into I should write only for publication. And then that really dampens your willingness to play or otherwise access your creativity.

Benefits of launching many expendable pieces[1]

‘Wasting’ time on pieces which aren’t in the ‘must publish’ file will help your writing in the long run because you can:

Stop work on something which has done what you needed it to
Let go a lovely piece of prose which slows the action or confuses the reader
Allow yourself the freedom to move on, not just because the piece isn’t working, but also maybe because you are bored with it or your interest has moved elsewhere.

You still need persistence

None of this should be interpreted as urging you to avoid working to perfect your pieces, or to trying to get your work published, or that you are not ready for prime time. But a more relaxed view on the need to publish gives you permission to throw in the towel if you need to.

[1] I know this is something the writer William Stafford said, but damned if I can find the actual quote, Sorry.

March 24, 2023March 7, 2023

Doing a Plotting Outline if You Must

Having spent the last post dissing plotting outlines, I’ll spend this one suggesting how to do one despite my personal objections, since I recognize that different writers have different approaches.

Doing a plotting outline with left and right sides of brain engaged

I got this idea from a book which I no longer have—otherwise I would credit the author. Anyhow, I used this approach for my non-fiction books (Managing Knowledge Workers and Creating an Innovation Culture) and it worked very well. I have adapted it for fiction use because I think it ups the element of creativity in what is otherwise a somewhat linear process.

There are probably numerous apps which can help you do this but honestly, I have found that the tactile experience of using index cards is best. You’re gonna need a lot—maybe a thousand or so. But it’ll set you back less than ten bucks and having a large number encourages a big flow of ideas.

Using index cards to create a plotting outline

Okay, with the stack of cards before you, start writing down everything you want to include in the novel.

One idea per card
Write as fast as you can
Repeats are okay (I’ll explain why later)
Any thought, big or small, is acceptable from ‘number the pages’ to ‘theme: loving to hate.’
Do this until you are out of ideas. You might want to carry a few cards around for a day or so in case more ideas come to you.

Organize your cards into a plot outline

Once you have your pile of ideas:

Group the cards. The grouping will depend on the nature of the novel. You could cluster by chronology with each pile representing rough chapters. Grouping by character (Minnie goes to the market and meets Jeff; Minnie has a nervous breakdown, etc.) is also possible as is by theme. Whatever works best for your novel idea.
Repeat cards. You will probably have duplicate or similar cards. Seeing ‘establish Minnie as unpleasant’ several times will give you a rough indication of how important that topic is to you and presumably the novel. It might even be a theme.
Assemble your outline. Create the outline using the card grouping as your guide.
There will be gaps. There will probably be gaps in the outline. My preference is to leave these for now to allow you to decide later what is needed but if it drives you mad not to have a complete outline, by all means, fill in the holes.
Allow yourself to throw away/ amend/create new cards as the story progresses. The cards are not stone tablets; don’t let yourself get locked into the outline.

So, while I prefer the haphazard approach to writing a novel, if your psyche calls out for a plot outline, this is a way to do it that is less left brain and lets the right brain have a look in.

March 17, 2023March 7, 2023

Why You Shouldn’t do a Story Outline

I have described my preferred way to write—the haphazard approach. I’m not alone in preferring to let the story go where it will. The Atlantic makes The case for writing a story before knowing how it ends. Actually, I feel more strongly than that. I think a story outline is a questionable idea, even for memoirs (actually, I want to say ‘bad’ but I am trying to give the impression of being even-handed. Ha!).

Having an outline can give a sense of security because you don’t have to face the empty page without some support. But this benefit, alluring though it is, also has some downsides which I think are substantial.

An outline reduces the possibility of taking interesting byways

An outline is a roadmap to get you where you think you want to go. It might seem counter-intuitive to avoid doing one.

But an outline may also encourage ignoring interesting opportunities. You’re writing a scene about your heroine wandering through the forest to get to grandmother’s house. It occurs to you that she might stumble upon a secret conclave of fairies. Wouldn’t that be fun to explore? But the outline points you inexorably to getting through the wood to meet the wolf dressed in grandma’s clothes. It, more importantly, doesn’t allow you to consider that the better story might actually be when Red (Riding Hood) meets this band of sprites and her adventures take off from there. So, it’s not just byways you miss but possibly the real soul of your narrative.

An outline is efficient but not effective

A plot outline is a very business-like way to approach writing. In business, the objective is often to get to the end goal with the least use of time and resources. But news—we’re not in the business of business. We want to create something entirely new. And that doesn’t necessarily lend itself to a plan, however carefully crafted. It’s using the wrong tool and hoping for the right outcome.

It may rob energy from the writing

Surprising, no? But that is why writers (myself included) often don’t like to talk too much about a work in progress. Because somehow talking about it makes it harder to write. It can rob the energy you need for writing much as an outline can.

Say you do an outline. You figure out how the wolf lures grandma into opening the door. He pretends to be Red and the grandmother falls for it (need to establish elsewhere that GM is not a brain trust). You get excited recording how the ruse will work and look forward to the writing the scene.

But when you do, you may find that you can’t infuse your original energy onto the page. A not uncommon event, in my experience. So save the energy and creativity for the writing, not for the planning-to-write.

It’s not as much fun

It just isn’t. Isn’t the excitement having an idea burst upon you and writing it down as fast as you can, almost as if it is being channeled through you? The ‘Hey, I can do this with the character!’ rather than ‘Okay, what’s next on the plan.’

So, honestly, I think that dispensing with an outline is the way to go. However, I also recognize, especially for new writers, that it is a security blanket which might make the difference between starting writing or not at all. So, the next post is how to do a plot outline if you must.