Character development: turning a cardboard character into a ‘real’ person

character background

A writer must develop the background of their character to understand what makes the character tick. This understanding is essential to developing the correct responses to the situations in the story. For example, a character who dropped out of high school will be awesome if he uses quantum mechanics to explain how aliens got money out of a locked bank vault. A sick protagonist cannot use physical violence to subjugate the antagonist. However, a character raised in France can use French words and phrases without sounding snobbish to the reader.

How much fund is required? This is an open question. I use more than one background page to define a main character in a short story and a paragraph or two for a supporting character. As a general rule, the more important the character is to your story, the more background you will need. The deeper you delve into the character’s psyche during the story, the more detail you’ll need about the character’s mental make-up. Conversely, the more you know about the character’s mental make-up, the easier it will be for your story to dig deep.

philosophical perspective

An important non-physical characteristic of my characters is their philosophical perspective. This element is one of the first that I give to my new character since it influences other aspects. For example, a reader will not believe a cheerful character who is supposed to be pessimistic. Similarly, a moody character will become a poor (ie, incredible) optimist.

This attribute also influences the character’s way of thinking and defines the character’s reaction to some stimuli in the story. Suppose, for example, a protagonist with a pessimistic philosophy is faced with a monumental plot problem. When her partner makes a suggestion, she replies, “Yeah! That’s it! Let’s do it.” Now we have a protagonist who is reacting inappropriately. She reacted as optimistic. A pessimist would reply, “What a dumb idea. That will never work.”

Besides pessimism (reality is bad) and optimism (reality is good), I use other philosophies for my characters. These include individualism (freedom and personal autonomy), materialism (reality consists solely of matter), mysticism (dependence on and belief in creeds or beliefs), nihilism (the social and economic order is corrupt), and pragmatism (emphasizes consequences and practical results of one’s actions). Definitions of all of these can be found in various books, including dictionaries.

When creating a group of characters for a story, I make sure that the characters have a variety of philosophies. Much conflict and humor can be achieved by giving the protagonist and partner conflicting philosophies such as pessimism and optimism or mysticism and materialism. This last pair pits a character with a strong belief in faith against another who doesn’t believe faith has anything to do with events or outcomes.

Empathy

Readers need to empathize with the protagonist of your story, otherwise they won’t care what happens to them. For empathy to occur with a character, the reader must conclude that the character shares some human values ​​with the reader.

Empathy (understanding) should not be confused with sympathy (pity). The reader must say to himself, “This girl is just like me. I want her to solve her problem.” A protagonist who kicks puppies and tricks the blind newsstand worker won’t get much empathy from readers unless he has other traits that balance these negatives. If this puppy-kicking character has a conscience and regrets his actions as soon as he does, he may have a slim chance of winning the reader’s empathy. If this character kicks the puppies because a brain tumor has damaged his personality, then the reader could excuse such unpleasant acts knowing that they are involuntary. Another problem with a puppy-kicking protagonist is trying to develop an antagonist who is even more obnoxious. With an unpleasant protagonist, the reader can establish an empathic bond with the antagonist. This results in a reversal of the reader’s usual loyalty with the reader now hoping the bad guy will win. If the protagonist wins, as he usually does, the reader is left with the empty feeling that something is wrong with the story and that it was a waste of time to read it.

On the other hand, a character who constantly moans, “woe is me,” may gain sympathy, but the reader will not develop empathy for this whiny guy. For example, suppose your protagonist faces a series of difficulties that he has not chosen. He may struggle to keep his head above water and gain empathy or he may blame others for his misery and possibly gain sympathy. The first is the stuff of good stories, the second is not.

For the reader to like and support the protagonist, he must display traits that are admired by the reader. These include courage, virtue, competence, and kindness. Of course, the protagonist may lack one or more of these characteristics at the beginning of the story and find or develop the attribute at the end of the story. For example, a character faced with the resolution of a dangerous plot problem may agonize over its worthlessness. At the end of the story, he overcomes his fears and finds the courage to face danger.

idiosyncrasies

To me, these are little bits of action that make the characters more human. Under certain emotional or stressful conditions, the characters will fall back into these habits. A character can curl her hair when she is thoughtful or concentrating. Another character can drum his fingertips on a table when he is annoyed or angry. Once you’ve identified the idiosyncrasy to the reader, it can become a signal about the character’s state of mind. When she shows this woman sitting at a table and winning because she ruffled her hair too much, she doesn’t have to tell the reader that she’s pondering a problem; the reader knows. Likewise, the guy’s furious finger tapping indicates to the reader that he is angry and that the author doesn’t have to tell the reader.

But don’t confuse these idiosyncrasies with normal habits. A character who is always adjusting his lens is not displaying an idiosyncrasy, he is displaying a habit, and he does it without thinking.

Linking an idiosyncrasy to a physical attribute is a powerful way to build a reader’s identity with a character. Suppose you have a protagonist with a visible facial scar. Every time he touches the scar, the reader knows that he is thinking of the knife-wielding assailant and hoping for revenge. Another example is a pronounced limp. If the injury was caused by the character’s fear at a crucial moment, every time the character sends a message to his knee, he remembers his failure and fears her. Perhaps the story may hinge on him facing these fears in another test. These links can be used with both the protagonist and the antagonist.

Resume

Like ordinary people, the characters in the story must be complex. The more complex these characters are, the more engaging readers will find them. While this certainly applies to the protagonist, don’t forget to build a multifaceted antagonist. A complex protagonist fighting a cardboard antagonist will leave the reader feeling like something is missing.

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