Inkabout L. Darby Gibbs

Science Fiction & Fantasy author

character development

Learning from the masters series: Ernest Hemingway carries theme

by

Let’s face it, Ernest Hemingway does everything right, so I could focus on a variety of qualities in his writing and gain insight.  But for the purpose of this post, I am giving my attention to his use of theme, so I am turning to the high school standard read The Old Man and the Sea.

Loyalty, respect, not giving up, creating one’s own luck, appreciation for life: these are all themes that apply to this book. 

These themes appear in the relationship between the boy and old Santiago.  Their reliance on each other is exemplified in the way they play out the fiction of their hopes versus the conditions of their reality.

“What do you have to eat?” the boy asked.
“A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?”
“No.  I will eat at home.  Do you want me to make the fire?”
“No.  I will make it later on.  Or I may eat the rice cold.”
“May I take the cast net?”
“Of course.”
There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day. There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too.

There is loyalty and respect in this exchange, but it also is imbued with not giving up.  The boy does not see the man as not facing the truth.  He sees that the old man will not approach life with a view that there is only poverty to discuss.  He will act as if all is as it should be because it will soon be so even if it does not appear to be likely.

The boy brings the old man food and wakes him up to eat.  And the old man questions him about where the food comes from.  He then asks the boy if they should eat.

“I have been asking you to,” the boy told him gently.  “I have not wished to open the container until  you were ready.”
“I am ready now,” the old man said.  “I only needed time to wash.”
Where did you wash? the boy thought.  The village water supply was two streets down the road.  I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel.  Why am I so thoughtless?  I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket.

In these two examples, the love the boy has for the old man is clear, and the depth of his loyalty to him is shown in the boy’s effort to see that he eats and the remorse the boy feels for not providing better for him.  The fisherman was his teacher and mentor, and though now he cannot fish with him because the old man’s luck is not good, the boy has not let go of the respect he feels for him and the obligation that comes with having received training that will allow him to make his own luck in the harsh fishing life the two lead.

Hemingway followed a natural path of behavior for these two characters and by staying tight to the simplicity of their honest relationship, he cast hope in what was hopeless.  It had been 84 days since the old man had caught a fish.  Strength, the help of the boy, respect from many of the villagers and the chance of catching any fish were falling away.  There was no great hope that he would break his streak of bad luck, and over the run of the story that lack of chance follows the arc from bad to worse because in the moment of triumph there is also a longer run of defeat.  Yet by the end of the story, the reader is still left with the hope the old man and boy have sustained.

Santiago loses his great fish, but he never loses the boy, the boy’s respect nor his loyalty.  In the village, there is more respect for him though he returns with little to show for all his effort.  Hemingway built a deep, reliable underpinning through the relationship between the boy and the old man.  Through characterization he supported multiple themes and left the reader somber but hopeful in the way the old man was always hopeful because it may not appear that all will be well but it will soon be.  That is the only view the boy will allow: “You must get well fast for there is much that I can learn and you can teach me everything.“

#writing

Learning from the masters series: Building Character with Kim Headlee

by

The pen is my sword.

I have written before that writers are readers.  We read for our own enjoyment and to learn techniques, both through exposure to well-written work and through examination of the works we read.  Lu Chi’s Wen Fu (which I have cited in the past) said it best: 
When cutting an axe handle with an axe,
   surely the model is at hand.

With that sage advice, I am looking closely at how author Kim Headlee designs character.  One could say she has a head start since she makes use of the King Arthur legend, but it is more of a base of familiarity her readers can walk in with, for she is by no means married to it.  Her characters carry the names and much of the fame, family affiliations and general motivations delineated in the legend, but Headlee deepens, defines and evolves these basic character requirements far past those initial mythological underpinnings.

There is very little background on Guenevere (choose your favorite spelling; there is sure to be one that will fit your fancy).  Headlee builds off this strong character from mythology and adds backbone, a fighting spirit and self-determination.  But first she introduces the character in Dawnflight (Book 1 of the Dragon’s Dove Chronicles).  After the prologue setting up the heartbreaking birth that ends with the mother dying, Gyanhumara (Headlee’s chosen version of the famous name) arrives in full form in Chapter 1.

     “Keep up your intensity!” Ogryvan swiped at his opponent’s midsection.  “Always! Lose your battle frenzy, and you’re dead!”
     Neither was fighting in true battle frenzy,, but the younger warrior understood.  Smiling grimly through the rivulets of sweat, the student danced out of reach, whirled, and made a cut at Orgyvan’s thigh.  The blunted practice sword could not penetrate the leather leggings but was sure to leave a bruise precisely over the wound he had taken at Aba-Gleann two months before.
     Although the swordmaster gritted his teeth against the pain, his opponent sensed satisfaction in the accompanying nod.

That is great characterization.  We don’t know yet that the young warrior is Gyan, the lady who will marry Arthur Pendragon, but we already know a lot about this character: warrior, quick, skilled.  Lines later we see her bested by her father, but we don’t know that until the line, “The Chieftainess of Clan Argyll hated to lose.”  Even that line informs us well of the spirit of this character and the heavy mantle of power she wields. 

Headlee develops character through action and reaction, intimate knowledge of the mind of the character and well-chosen dialogue.  “Ogryvan whispered, “‘Pay attention, Gyan.  This is my favorite part….. All hear and beware!  The Ogre takes no prisoners!'”  What is to follow is a ceremonial pretense of beheading.  But Gyan responds by noting her father’s boasting to the watching crowd has drawn his attention away from the “enemy.”  She twists out of the role as the defeated and turns the sword on him, shouting, “‘Neither does the Ogre’s daughter!”

In that moment, the reader will never expect Gyanhumara, Chiefteness of Clan Argyll, to ever be bested for long.  Character realized in just a few pages.  What I can learn from Headlee will take pages and pages to explain and practice.   But I am working on it.

Recommendation: read this book and the next one, too.  I am getting ready for number three.

Characterization, Star Trek and life challenges

by

Star Trek, Next Generation is one of my favorite shows, and my husband and I have been watching an episode every night while we eat dinner as we work our way through the seasons the show aired.  The early ones were still working on depth, characterization and purpose, but after the third year, the show got its legs under it.  I can view the same episode again and again and enjoy the interactions of characters that are distinctly different, driven by motivations individual and evolving.  What captures my attention most are the shows which focus on particular characters and their growth facing distressing or challenging situations.

Tonight we are watching the episode which has Captain Picard trying to understand why he left the ship.  As a second Picard arrives in a shuttle craft that is from six hours in the future, the original Picard wonders what would cause him to choose leaving the Enterprise when the result was the total destruction of the ship.  He is angry at the second Picard for leaving and surviving.  It causes him to question his integrity as a captain and his responsibility to his crew.

In the life of any individual, events take place which force one to evaluate, re-evaluate and respond to situations.  We question our choices based on our desires and attempt to see ourselves as truly as we can.  How we answer ourselves, how we evaluate our choices forces us to grow as people.  Characters we create must grow as well, question their choices based on their understanding of the reasons which caused them to select those choices.

This is the challenge I love to work on when I write.  It is also what causes me the most doubt.  It generates questions that I must answer if I want to understand what sort of growth is potentially possible in my characters.  Looking at characterization forces me to stay aware of the process of growth in my characters.

In the first book of my series, the main character Brent Garrett from the start was driven by his perception of his mother’s expectations.  A part of me was always uncomfortable with this fact about him.  Why so driven by his mother’s attempts to control and inspire his life choices?  He’s a grown adult and should be past any dependency on what his mother wishes him to accomplish.  But that is only one part of his story just as our own lives are replete with challenges.  We don’t get them one at a a time.  He doesn’t either.  Still I had to examine my discomfort with his difficulties in order to understand his.

So when I look at my own life and consider the things that have driven my actions, I must confess that the loss of my mother when I was an infant played a strong factor in my wanting to emulate her.  And it had an even stronger influence on my efforts to make sure my father was proud of me.  At one point in my teenage life, I became aware that he gained me shortly before he lost his wife, my mother.  I did not stand a chance of replacing her.  I could only hope he would find my efforts to be the best I could adequate.

When I reached adulthood, I found that every time I visited my father, he attempted to place me back in a childhood role.  It wasn’t until I had been married several years, spent numerous phone calls learning about his experience watching my mother die over a six month period while playing both father and mother to two small children that we grew beyond the loss together.  I hadn’t seen him in four years, though we had talked on the phone regularly.  When I came to visit, it was to find he had suffered a heart attack while I was traveling the 1200 miles to get to my parents’ home (he had remarried).  He was in the hospital and his perspective had gone through a tremendous change. 

The challenges I had gone through entering and growing in adulthood and his own brush with death had caused us both to change, to make new choices and to see ourselves and others in new ways.  So Brent had a perception of himself governed by his mother’s expectations and desires for his “success.”  Through book 1 and book 2 of my series Students of Jump, Brent reached adulthood and whether his mother was ready for him to grow beyond her wishes or not, he did.  Picard worked to understand the choices the second Picard made, and my father and I climbed over the wall that had divided us, interfering with our view of ourselves and our understanding of each other.

Yeah, that is what I like about writing — seeing characters evolve as questions are generated and answered.  And evolving myself along the way.

For writers, tragedy is a good thing

by

Caught up in the moment

No one wants to read about everything going right.  Readers want things to go wrong so they can watch the characters find their way through their difficulties.  Houses burn down, people get sick or lost or lose their jobs.  They get angry and lose their temper.  We readers know this happens in real life.  Watching someone go through these kinds of difficulties and come out the other end stronger gives us hope.

In my classes, my students often ask me questions after we have finished a book.  So many times they are questions I cannot answer because the characters aren’t real, and I cannot call them up and check on their progress.  But often my students see them as real, that there is more yet to come.  Every writer should aspire to the kinds of questions my students ask.

  • Did he go back and find her?
  • Why did she leave him if she knew he needed her to stay awhile longer?
  • Will they every see each other again?
  • Did she have an unhappy childhood?
  • What did her family think about what she did?

All I can say is, “I am not sure.  Why do you think they did it?” Or some other statement to put it back on them to consider the possible answers.  Their question are proof that my students have connected to the characters.

Readers find understanding, lessons and experience in the books they read.  This is why writers find tragedy a good thing.  It makes our characters live in reality in a way that brings our readers insight and emotional release while they are “safe” from reality at the same time.  

Characters that grow while I write

by

Growing together.

I love building characters that I wish I could visit.  These days I am working with Mick and Emily.  I like them because they like each other.  Emily understands Mick whether he is pacing up and down with excessive energy, moping around about some thing that is bothering him or just grinning at her.
But Emily will not put up with the moping and she tells him so.  He’s a good guy.  He thinks about things and though he won’t pull himself together all at once, he will think about what she said and try to be better.

Mick had a bad heart and it sidelined him, kept him out of enjoying doing activities he wanted to do.  It stuck him on a mountain in a house looking at the paper trail of his company but unable to manage it himself.  It left him growing Christmas trees, but it never left him bitter.  He had Emily and that made all the difference.  But having Emily, for a man of the 70’s era meant he had to accept that he would probably not be able to protect her if he ever had to fend off an attacker.  So they lived in a small mountain town where everybody knew everybody, and he didn’t have to fear not being able to protect her.  I suppose it’s his man thing because there was never any sign of danger to make him worry.

In this third book in the Student of Jump series, Mick finds himself no longer held back by his heart.  But fear is much harder to replace with confidence.  He is a knight with armor, sword and shield, a fair lady by his side.  But he has never jousted before.

As I work through this redraft, Mick and Emily grow.  They don’t become steady in the clinches.  They don’t have all the answers.  They don’t find themselves in situations that bear easy answers.  But they have each other, I think.  I am not sure how it is all going to end.  Sure the book has an ending, but these two keep growing with experience.  Emily didn’t have anything holding her back.  She stayed back for Mick.  She gets as frightened as he does, just about different things.  But together they manage; they support each other even when both are trembling.  That’s why I like these two characters.

If you are a writer, who are your favorite characters at this time?  If you’re not a writer, what character and from what book do you wish you could visit.  Why?

Keep universal symbols in mind when you write

by

white rose = purity, plastic = fake

Every writer should keep aware of their use of the symbols (mythologies, metaphors, colors, etc.) that subconsciously attract, repel and inform readers.  For instance, let’s use the age old feature of color.  Red denotes passion, rage, anger, love, disease, destruction, corruption, etc.  So if you put a woman in white, you could be providing a contrast or a condition.

  • The woman is corrupted but presents herself as pure.
  • The woman is pure
  • the woman is potentially pure, but in danger of being corrupted
  • etc.

Let’s examine red when it is combined with white.  Hawthorne did this with great effect in “Young Goodman Brown.”  Brown’s young wife wore pink ribbons.  Did the ribbons represent her inexperience (youth) or was it the fact that she was a wife (therefore no longer pure) so her once white symbols have passion/love diffused into them?  Or has she lost purity and been corrupted by the devil, and the symptom of this corruption is the pink ribbons in her hair.  Were her ribbons white, could the reader then assume she is innocent?  But her ribbons are pink, so has she been corrupted?  The journey of Young Goodman Brown is based on his concern over her purity.

These features add depth to the work.  So the writer must examine their work for those universal symbols that our readers will catch consciously or subconsciously, thus providing greater depth of characterization and perhaps conflict of character.

Symbols to consider:

  • names
  • color
  • occupations (general:  cabinet maker, hero, prince, clock maker)
  • hats
  • objects
  • shapes of features (narrow set eyes denote criminals, large eyes innocence)

Here is a simple example.  One of my students named two of her characters John and Sheela.  The student chose the names because she felt they were common everyday names and would place her characters with the working class.  John was concerned that his wife was cheating on him.  I pointed out to my student that the name John when combined with Sheela created a symbolic factor that played well with her plot.  John a term used for men who solicit sex in exchange for money combined with Sheela a term with conflicting mythological meaning regarding corruption (either as protection from devils or symbolic of sexual fertility) would lead the reader to assume the wife was in fact cheating on him and perhaps he was just as flawed because he viewed her as a means of sexual satisfaction.  The student was shocked she had chosen names that would have this effect.  She changed the name of the woman immediately. 

I used the name Miranda for one of my characters because I liked the added connotation of knowledge and wisdom that went with the name.  Vivian, an overly attentive mother, for its closeness to vivacious, and Misty, Miranda’s daughter, because of both her internal conflict over her relationship with her father and his conflict about being a single father.

What symbols have you made use of in your work?  What symbols have you seen used by other writers in the works you have read?