Characters, Characters, Characters

What makes a good character driven novel work? Three-dimensional, flawed, quirky main characters. One of my favorite books with amazing characters is TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. For example, there's Scout, our tomboy lead who relates the story of that time. Her older brother, Jem, who antagonizes her as well as protects her, like most big brothers do. There's Atticus Finch, a widowed father, lawyer, and man who finds himself fighting for a black man's life during a time when the rights of the African American were few.

The secondary characters are just as real to us, Cal the maid, Miss Maudie next door, Boo Radley the recluse, the sheriff, the prosecutor, and the family that accused a black man, Tom Robinson of assaulting a white woman in the deep south.

This story is filled with childhood discovery, loss of innocence, racial conflict, and the struggle for justice in an unjust time in our history. Ms. Lee brings it all to life on the page through the interaction of her characters. Everyone has a part that builds the tension and makes us want to read more. I've read this novel many times and even though I know how it ends I have trouble putting it down once I've started. We're drawn into the adventures of Scout, Jem and their friend, Dill over three years during the Great Depression.

With the publication of GO SET A WATCHMAN, also by Harper Lee, the interest in MOCKINGBIRD has resurfaced. Reviews are mixed and I haven't read it myself, but it's a testament to the place in the reader's hearts for characters in a story they love.

That's the challenge the author must rise to. Make the characters in the story real and someone a reader can relate to. How do we do that? Great dialog, vivid descriptions, timely issues that create emotional responses, the use of all the senses. Where do we find these interesting characters? Personally, I find them at work, the grocers, on-line, family, friends...add a little imagination to stretch the truth of the day to day (which is often mundane)...ask the "what if" questions...make them likeable but flawed (because no one is perfect) and "wham" you have characters people want to get to know more about.

Sounds easy, doesn't it? But it really isn't. We have to get to know the characters ourselves, understand their motivation, where they've been and where they are going, and then we push their limits - just like life does to all of us. It can be fun, frustrating, but it is seldom easy. Find that special something that makes the character stand out - Scout only wore dresses when she had to. She'd fight and roll in the dirt if the situation warranted it. She was the consummate "tomboy." Personally, so was I, and that makes her someone I can relate to.

What do you want your readers to get from your characters? In FEISTY FAMILY VALUES and PATCHWORK FAMILY the readers see that family is more than blood and when illness strikes those we love we fret and pull together to help. They might see themselves or someone they know in similar situations and realize they aren't alone. There are ways through the tough times and people who will be there if we need them. And there's silliness, too, because we all do or say goofy things from time to time. I guess that makes us all "characters" in our own story.

Authors, I wish you godspeed on your writing journey. I hope you meet lots of feisty characters along the way.

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To find out more about Bonnie Tharp's books go to http://bdtharp.com

Beautiful Beginnings

by B.D. Tharp

Don’t you just love when the first page of a novel is so intriguing it grabs you and won’t let go? It doesn’t matter what genre either. I love to read books that I can’t put down. You know the ones I’m talking about…the ones you lose sleep over, the ones that replace your cooking time and force the hubby to eat cold sandwiches or cook himself.

Here’s some examples:

“Though she was careful not to show it, Madeline Singer did not fall apart when her youngest child left for college. In the Atlanta suburb where she lived, women wilted all around her. Tears fell. Antidepressants were prescribed.” ~Ten Beach Road by Wendy Wax.

(Makes me glad I don’t live in her neighborhood. And I wonder why Madeline didn’t fall apart. Is she stronger than the rest of us mothers?)

“Until the drowned girl came to Laurel’s bedroom, ghosts had never walked in Victorianna. The houses were only twenty years old, with no accumulated history to put creaks in the hardwood floors or rattle in the pipes.” ~The Girl Who Stopped Swimming by Joshilyn Jackson

(So why is there a ghost visiting Laurel? Who was the girl who drowned? Had she been “visited” by ghosts before? Why?)

“He was the only child in a house full of doubt. In bed each night, though it wasn’t dark – the floor lights his father had installed – and it wasn’t entirely private – the nursery monitor both parents refused to give up – he rehearsed the things he was certain of, using his fingers to number them. He was just a little boy, but he wouldn’t allow himself to sleep until he’d gone through both hands twice.” ~The Winters in Bloom by Lisa Tucker

(Who is this lonely child? Why are his parents so protective? Did he have nightmares? Was he ill? What had happened to make the house full of doubt?)

See what I mean? Each one introduces the first character very quickly and some sort of tension or question that touches them. All of them have the reader wondering “why” and “what will happen next”. Most people enjoy finding the answers a little piece of the puzzle at a time. No data dumps, please. Let them discover crumbs that will lead them down the path to the truth in the story, or the lie, of course.

Make your beginning important, something that can’t be skimmed or skipped. “Hook” the reader and reel them into the story and they’ll be happy to follow your line to the end.

Write on, my friends.

Auditioning Characters: Meet Ryan Harper

Thanks for the warm welcome for my first post. As I mentioned then, for me, writing is all about the characters. Last time, you saw how I met Frankie Castor, the heroine of When Danger Calls. This time, I'm holding hero auditions.

Meet Ryan Harper.

As soon as he opens the door to my office, I'm sure there's been a mistake.

"I'm Ryan Harper, ma'am," he says.

I check the list my secretary gave me first thing this morning. No mistake. Number five just left, and number six is definitely Ryan Harper. I give him my, Thanks for coming smile. The one that I normally flash as they leave, not when they enter. But to be fair, I should hear him out.

I motion him inside. "Come in. Have a seat."

He's certainly tall enough, over six feet, but as he crosses to the client chair at my desk, he's favoring one leg. Still, there's nothing hesitant about the way he walks. Strides, actually, limp and all. Interesting. He's got a scruffy full beard, and his hair hangs in unruly brown tendrils over the collar of a neatly-pressed blue oxford cloth shirt. His jeans, also neatly-pressed, bunch at the waist under his belt, which clearly has been tightened a notch. He grasps the arms of the chair and eases himself into it. I see his jaw clench.

I try to keep my expression neutral, my voice pleasant, but I know he's aware I've noticed the pain he's tried to hide. "Mr. Harper, you're aware this position is for an action-adventure romance hero, right?"

"Yes, ma'am." He stretches his legs in front of him. There's a faint pallor under his tan. His gaze meets mine, and my heart does a quick flip. The weight of the world sits behind those whiskey-colored eyes. Thoughts of finishing ahead of schedule and an early lunch vanish. I fumble for a pen.

"What made you apply for the job, Mr. Harper?"

"Please, call me Ryan."

"Ryan." I'm tempted to return the first-name invitation, but I normally reserve that for my characters after I hire them. "I have to be honest. You're not exactly what readers expect when they meet the hero in one of my books."

His eyes never leave mine. He runs his hand across his beard. "I'm just back from an assignment. Things didn't go so well, and frankly, my boss insisted I take time off. Lying around the beach didn't appeal, and there were some … issues. I resigned. I saw your ad. I've had a lot of experience in the action-adventure realm." He rubbed his knee. "That's how I got injured."

"What kind of an injury?"

"Nothing permanent. Just my knee. It's healing fine. I guarantee it won't interfere with the job."

I'll be the judge of that. But his erect posture, the set of his jaw say he's right.

"All right, we'll assume the knee is a minor inconvenience. Tell me about yourself. Where you grew up, education, work history, your whole backstory."

The first glimmer of a smile appears at the corners of his mouth. "I grew up on a ranch in Montana. Horse ranch. Older brother, younger sister. I started college, dropped out to join the Navy. Did a couple of years as a SEAL, then went to work for … for a high-end San Francisco security company."

Quite a bit of hopping around. I don't need quitters in my books. "What made you drop out of school?"

Sadness flashes across his face, quickly controlled. "My mother died. I needed to get away for a while."

"And this company?" I ask. "What were your duties?"

"Just about anything." He lifts his gaze to the ceiling as if searching for the right response. Shrugs. Leans forward. Lowers his voice. "But, you see, there's a covert side. I can't talk about it much, but we do a lot of hostage rescue, go places where our government doesn't want to get involved, either for political reasons, or because to them, what the client wants is just small potatoes."

My pen seems to be writing notes of its own accord. Plot points appear on my pad. He waits. I go down my checklist. "Married?"

"No."

"Ever?"

"No, ma'am. My job takes me away at a moment's notice." He sucks in a breath. "Took me away, I guess, since I'm not working there anymore. But it never seemed fair to ask someone to accept that kind of a life."

"I'm assuming your job entailed dangerous assignments."

He nods.

"I'm also assuming you're well-versed in firearms, combat techniques, survival."

"Yes, ma'am. Our teams are the best."

"Teams?"

"That's right. We're all trained across the board, but we each have specialties."

"And yours was…?"

A pause. "Sharpshooter. Sniper."

"You've killed?"

A longer pause. He swallows. "Yes, I have."

"I take it you don't enjoy it."

"No, ma'am I don't. Frankly, it sickens me, but there are times when it's the only way. The world has an ugly side."

"Can you work alone? Without a … team … backing you up?"

"Definitely."

"All right, then let's get to the other side. This is an action-adventure romance novel, and everything happens on the page. Everything. Do you have any problems with that?"

He gives me a sheepish grin. Suddenly, I wonder what he'll look like when he shaves. "None at all."

I scribble another note. "Dogs?"

"We had an Irish setter when I was a kid. Rusty. I'm good with dogs."

"I was thinking German Shepherd."

"Fine breed."

"Children?"

He looks at me, a puzzled expression on his face. "Children?"

"You'd be working with a single mother. She has a five-year-old daughter. Can you handle it."

For the first time, I see something akin to fear cross his face. He closes his eyes for a moment, then gives me an even stare. "Not a problem."

Definitely a problem. But that's going to be his problem, not mine. I glance at my list of potential conflicts for his character and put two asterisks by that one.

I stand and offer my hand. "Thank you, Ryan. When can you start?"

He gets to his feet. Slowly. Smiles and shakes my hand. A warm, firm grip. A working man's hand. "Any time, ma'am."

"Call me Terry."

His smile is a genuine grin now. "Terry. Thank you."

"If you'll stop by my secretary's desk, she'll have the necessary paperwork."

He heads for the door. I watch him leave. The limp is barely visible. Or am I distracted by the view? I wonder if Frankie Castor will enjoy it as much as I do.

Sadly for me, WHEN DANGER CALLS is out of print. However, that’s your gain, because you can buy them from Amazon or from me at a very very DEEP discount. And they'll be autographed--personalized if you like. To buy from Amazon, click here and then follow the "New from $10" link. To buy from me send me an email here.

Finding Characters

I suppose introductions are still in order. I’m Terry Odell, and my first book with Five Star, WHEN DANGER CALLS, was released in December of 2008. The sequel, WHERE DANGER HIDES, will be released in May of 2011.

The most important facet of any book for me, whether I’m reading or writing, is characterization. Without characters the reader loves, everything else is secondary. So, how do I find the characters for my books? I advertise, of course! Here’s how I found Frankie, the heroine of WHEN DANGER CALLS.

Meet Frankie Castor … and Molly.

"Yes?" I say when my secretary calls. I have a break between appointments, and I'm trying to refine some of my yet-to-be-discovered heroine's goals, motivations and conflicts.

"We might have a problem with the next applicant," she says.

I consult my list. Frances Marie Castor. Four o'clock. So far, all I've seen are women who look like they're applying for a job at a strip club, not an action-adventure romance heroine. True, there are a few scenes where the heroine will have to play a cocktail waitress, but that's not what I'm looking for. "What kind of problem?"

"Her sitter can't make it, and she can't find anyone to take care of her daughter."

"How old is the daughter?" I ask.

After a moment, my secretary returns to the line. "She's almost five."

I wonder. Would it asking too much that I might be able to cast both roles at once? "Tell her to bring her daughter along."

Promptly at four, my secretary informs me Ms. Castor and her daughter have arrived. "Show them in," I say. Giving a silent prayer that this will be my final interview, I flip to a clean sheet of my notepad and turn my attention to the door.

When it opens, my secretary leads the candidate in. She gives me a look that says, "Am I supposed to entertain the kid?"

I give her a quick headshake. "Please come in, Ms. Castor." Outwardly, she's got promise. Honey-blonde, with clear, blue eyes. Minimal makeup, and a few strands of hair escape her ponytail. She's wearing khakis and a beige-and blue striped polo. Definitely not the stripper type. Girl next door all the way. My hopes lift a little higher. My gaze lowers to the child who's hanging back, clutching a backpack to her chest like a shield. Strawberry blonde, slight. Not exactly the image I had. For tension and conflict, I was looking for someone who resembled the Hispanic youngster Ryan Harper had failed to rescue before the book started.

Frances hesitates. "I'm sorry for the … inconvenience, and I really appreciate you seeing me today. This is Molly." I detect a quick nudge to the child, who lifts her head and gives me a polite smile, still keeping her eyes downcast. "Hello."

"Molly knows this is grownup time. She'll sit and read, or color. And will be very quiet." Another nudge.

I get up, circle my desk, and crouch to Molly's level. "Hi, Molly. Do you like to read?"

She nods.

"Well, I love to read, and I love to write stories, too. What's your favorite book?"

She meets my gaze with a smile, and her cobalt-blue eyes are irresistible. I'm already revising Molly's character description from a brown-eyed, dark-haired child to a blue-eyed strawberry blonde. Writing is all about the rewrites, after all.

"Green Eggs and Ham," she says. "I have it in my pack. I can read it to Mr. Snuggles all by myself."

"Very good," I say. I settle her on the loveseat against the wall. "You can read here while I talk to your mommy."

Molly unzips her pack and takes out a well-worn copy of the Seuss classic. Next comes a well-worn, once-white stuffed dog, which she places on her lap. Mr. Snuggles, I presume. I make another mental note. As soon as she opens the book, she's reciting the familiar rhymes in soft tones.

I haven't mentioned the role of a child, and I don't say anything yet. Casting children is a headache. I prefer to see them in their natural state, not performing, but it's almost impossible. Today is a rare exception.

"Please sit down, Ms. Castor." I direct her to one of my client chairs. "Or should I call you Frances."

"Call me Frankie," she says. "Only my mom calls me Frances, and then it's usually Frances Marie Castor, which means I'm in trouble." She sits. "Excuse my appearance. I had to come straight from work—I teach elementary school art—and I didn't have time to change. We've been working on collages."

As she sits, I get a brief whiff of Elmer's glue. Much nicer than the cloying scents I've been exposed to all day. "Tell me why you applied for this job."

She takes a breath. "Bottom line? The money."

Honest, straightforward. I jot a note. "You mentioned you have a job. Teaching."

"I'm only a sub while the regular teacher's on maternity leave. I had to move from Boston because my mother fell and broke her wrist, and my sister's husband got a great job, but it was in London, and they moved, and there was nobody to stay with Mom, so Molly and I moved out here and things are tight." She glanced at Molly, then gave me a quick grin. "Sorry. I … um … tend to babble when I'm nervous."

"There's no need to be nervous. Tell me about yourself. Your backstory, as we say in the business."

She jumps right in. "I was born in Broken Bow, Montana. I wanted to experience the city life, couldn't wait to get out. I wanted to be a photojournalist. Went to school in New York. Things got … complicated." She looks at Molly again, her gaze lingering this time. She turns back to me. "I ended up working for an interior design firm in Boston, until I got the call about Mom. And I'm worried about her. She forgets things, and the budget—well, it's in trouble, and the furnace needs to be fixed—replaced would be better—and there's Bob, her new boyfriend, and—" She gives me another wide grin. "I'm babbling again, aren't I?"

I smile and add some notes to my page. "Not a problem." After making sure Molly is still engrossed in her book, I lean across my desk and lower my voice. "You do know that you'll have to have a consummated relationship for the job. Will that be a problem?"

She, too, checks on Molly. "Do I have to be … you know … real experienced? Because I'm not looking for a man now. Not unless he's going to put Molly first, and I've pretty much given up on those. I haven't … you know … done it. Not since—" Another glance at Molly.

"I've found that one experienced partner is usually enough," I say. "But it does happen on the page."

She blushes a delightful shade of pink. "The guy isn't going to be a brute or anything, is he? Or too ... kinky?"

"No, definitely not a brute. And I don't write erotica, so there's a very low kink quotient."

After a brief moment of lip-chewing thought, she says, "I think I'll be fine with it. No, I know I'll be fine with it. There's always a bright side to anything, and a little romance, even pretend, seems like a definite bright side to me right about now."

I run through the last few questions quickly, making sure she's willing to deal with a German Shepherd, and isn't afraid of horses or heights, before I drop the final question. "How would you feel about Molly being in the book with you?"

Her eyes pop open. "I don't know. She's so young. It's an adult book, after all."

"If she can differentiate between real and pretend, she can probably handle the job. And I'll run any of her scenes by you first, for approval."

"That sounds fair. But those … romance scenes?"

"Trust me, she won't be on the page during any … romance." With a smile, I add, "And she'll get paid for her time. Same rate as you."

Frankie chews her lip again. She gets up and sits beside Molly. She whispers in her ear. Molly's eyes widen. She looks at me. "Can Mr. Snuggles be in the story too?"

"Of course," I say. He'll be very important."

Molly grins. She stuffs her book in her pack and dangles Mr. Snuggles in front of her face. "We can be in a storybook. Just like Sam I Am."

Frankie crosses back to my desk, her hand outstretched. "We'll do it."

I shake her hand and escort the pair to the door. "My secretary has the paperwork. We'll start Monday, if that's all right."

"It'll be fine," Frankie says. They leave, and I tell my secretary to cancel tomorrow's appointments and to hold all my calls. I have some writing to do.


Author’s note. Sadly for me, WHEN DANGER CALLS is out of print. However, that’s your gain, because I have all the remaindered copies sitting in my house, and I’m offering them to readers at 50% off the cover price. If you’d like an autographed copy, please send me an email with Author Expressions Blog Special in the subject line—I’ll even waive shipping for readers of this blog. If you want to ‘try before you buy’ the first chapter is on my website. You can also visit me on my own blog, Terry's Place, where I discuss all aspects of writing--among other things.

If you enjoyed this job interview, leave a comment to let me know, and I'll post what happened when Ryan Harper, the hero showed up at my office on my next turn to blog.