Creating Characters

Moved from my other blog. Originally published on 17th July 2014.

I spent an enjoyable and informative evening at the Uckfield Writers Group. For me, the highlight of the evening was a session on creating characters. Jude asked as to base a character on a simplified version of ourselves by answering five questions.  I found this surprisingly difficult because, like most of us, there are no clear-cut answers. For example, I swing between pessimism and optimism.  I decided to choose pessimism, which shows itself in a tendency to be overcautious.

1. Are you male or female? Female.
2. Are you an optimist or a pessimist? Pessimist
3. Do you have children? No
4. Are you urban or rural? Urban
5. Are you an extrovert or an introvert? Introvert

Then we answered a series of questions that grounded our character in a situation.

1. Recent Past: What did your character have for breakfast? Yoghurt.
2. In the world: What is the one thing your character always has with them? Phone
3. Progression: If your character was at a bus stop, where would they go on the bus? Station

In hindsight, having heard the others’ stories, it would be better to give a little more detail to provide a better insight into the character. For example: “Yoghurt, Waitrose organic”, would define a character differently to “Yoghurt: low-fat, bargain range.” and “Classic Nokia, with well-worn oval buttons” says something different to “The latest iPhone”.

We then spent 10 minutes writing a story about our character.  Here is a slightly tweaked version of mine.  I’ve adjusted it so to make it work as a pair with the second part of the exercise.

Elizabeth’s story

The morning started normally enough. Elizabeth had lingered over her diet yoghurt before heading in to work. There was a lot of mist for a July morning. She smiled slightly as she realised that, since moving from the city, she had started noticing this sort of thing. Amusement turned to anxiety as she wondered if the mist would delay the bus. She looked ruefully at her shoes. Killer heels might help her fake confidence in the office but they were hopeless for a dash to the station. What was that by her toe? A knife? How irresponsible could you get? A child could cut themselves on that. She picked it up; it was obviously antique. For a moment she wished she lived in the simpler time when this knife would have been in a man’s pocket as he went about his work.

Then the horse appeared.

For a moment Elizabeth just stared. This place was getting more ridiculously rural by the minute. She dropped the knife in her bag and grabbed a leather strap. This was either brave or foolish considering that all Elizabeth knew about horses is that they bite at one end and kick at the other. Maybe it was from the horse rescue. She would Google them and get their number. She fished around in her handbag with her free hand and …

 

… this was seriously odd. Her bag was like something out of a dressing up box. No phone. The smelling salts were not an adequate substitute.

                                                                                                   

“Ma’am?”

She looked up. A man was looking at her with smiling and unreasonably beautiful blue eyes.

“Thank you for catching him.”

After this we were asked to write a similar story about a character that is the opposite of the one we wrote about earlier.  Again, I’ve tweaked and tidied to dovetail the two stories.

Joe’s story

A cloud passed over Joe’s normally smiling face. If he didn’t find that horse and get it harnessed in time to take her ladyship to the London house, there would be trouble.  There were enough problems for carriage drivers with half the county travelling by train and the other half spluttering round in automobiles. If he lost his position, it would be the workhouse for him and his motherless boys. Then his natural optimism reasserted itself. Nonsense. Blackbird wouldn’t go far and there was plenty of time.

He’d been jumping at shadows since he’d found that granddad's knife was missing. He'd had to cut the rough loaf that passed for family breakfast these days with an ordinary kitchen blade. He remembered the day that grandfather his that knife. “If you get into real trouble just wish for what you need on that knife.”  Joe didn’t really believe in magic or fate but just the day before, he’d caught himself wishing for a clever wife who would keep him and the boys in order and help them learn about modern things like automobiles and railways.  He’d been turning the knife over in his hands at the time. Maybe he had lost it then. Never mind. It was bound to turn up.

He turned the corner and smiled. Things always turn out for the best. There was Blackbird with a pleasantly rounded woman holding one of his reins.