She's a Character, All Right

Cardwell

Source: The Writer, August 2000 v113 i8 p5.

Title: She's a Character, All Right.(character development in novels)(Brief Article)

Author: John Cardwell

Subjects: Creative writing - Methods

Magazine Collection: 103H0248

Electronic Collection: A63583713

RN: A63583713

I PLAN TO BEGIN MY NEW NOVEL BY concentrating on a character. So it's important that I find one who has an attitude, one that can generate action and stir emotions. More often than not, I start writing a novel based on an idea, a theme that will reshape the world. I never get very far with that, so I back off and more modestly try to come up with a story that includes interesting characters working through enough troubles to open the reader's heart. It's then that I slip in "truths" about the complexities and contradictions of life.

During the last two months I've "interviewed" a number of characters, but none of them seemed to have what I want. So again I'm sitting in my special interview room, ready to begin as soon as the next character arrives.

The room is comfortably set up with easy chairs, Impressionist paintings (prints, but good ones), a vase of fresh flowers on the coffee table, and a bar. Now I wait. I've asked this character before to come to talk with me, and once or twice I have seen her dim figure rake shape in that gloom beyond the circle of light, but she hasn't yet emerged.

I sit very still and concentrate. A character comes to me, I have discovered, if I don't try too hard to force the issue. I just put myself in a receptive mood, at ease, relaxed, alert.

Ah, there she is! Early thirties, blond, curly hair with dark roots. Surprisingly, her hair looks stylish, as if the dark roots were a deliberate part of her hairdo. Her clothes, though casual, show off a good figure. She takes another step into the light. She's not conventionally pretty, but her features are expressive and intelligent, which makes her seem quite attractive to me. She carries herself with confidence, yet I know she's feeling a bit edgy.

I lean back in my chair and smile. "Hello. Come have a seat. I've been waiting for you."

She sits down and crosses her legs, wanting me, I'm sure, to see how shapely and silky they are. "I wasn't sure it was me who you wanted to see," she says. "I have wanted to come to talk with you but couldn't seem to get here at the right time."

I like the sound of her voice. It is mid-range, a little husky at the edge, altogether pleasant to the ear. "Something to drink?" I ask.

"A Margarita on the rocks would be nice."

I go to the bar and mix her a drink, make a scotch and water for myself.

When we are comfortable, I say, "Salud," as we lift our glasses. "Well, where to begin. What can you tell me about yourself?."

"What kind of novel are you writing?"

"I don't know yet. I'm hoping it will develop because of a strong an interesting character."

"And you're hoping that I'm that character?"

"It would be easier for me if you are."

She is silent for a moment, seeming to appraise me.

"Would I have to do whatever you told me?"

"At first, I suppose--"

"A puppet on a string, playing out male fantasies, no real mind or character of my own?" Her tone is gently chiding.

"Not at all. The sooner you can act on your own, the better I'll like it."

She looks at me with some skepticism.

"Tell me," I go on, "how do you feel about men and what they expect of women?"

She smiled. "You're quite a direct person."

"Relationships with my characters have to be as open and candid as possible--but include my being sensitive to their moods and possible reactions as well."

She examines the nails on her left hand. "As to my feelings about men, can you be more specific?"

"My question is deliberately open-ended. Why don't you just start wherever you like?"

She is thoughtful for a moment. "If you want to know the truth, I don't take kindly to the charm boys, who imagine that if they look good, smell good, and say something clever, I'll suddenly be enthralled. Too often they're self-involved and don't see a woman as a person--only as a trophy or another notch on the bedpost. These guys are mostly looking for an ego-gasm, if you ask me."

I laugh. I have never heard that expression before. She has the attitude I am looking for. "What kind of man does interest you?"

"An intelligent man with a good sense of humor. That and knowing he'll be honest with me."

"And can you offer the same to a man?"

She smiles. "It's not a perfect world, is it?"

I decide not to pursue the subject further for the time being.

"Religion?" I ask.

"Yes, people seem to need it."

"But for you?"

She shakes her head. "No, my spirit is sustained in other ways."

"For instance."

"I'll tell you more if the situation calls for it."

"Education?"

"A degree in Humanities."

"Very good. And you work?"

"I'm between jobs right now, but I'm sure I could carry off any job you found for me. I'm a touch impatient at times, however, and have to guard against a quick tongue."

I hesitate for only a moment. "What would you say to working with me for a few weeks? We'd do some scenes together to see how you react to various situations and to certain people. At the same time, I'd want you to write an autobiography for me. I need all the detail you can muster. I'll write it all down. What do you say?"

"And you'd let me develop a life of my own?"

"I would."

"I'm game," she says, "if you are. Sometimes, so I've been told, I come across as a bit contentious, but that's not really me."

"What is really you?"

"Now you're trying to get me to do the heavy lifting. I believe you're supposed to do that."

I shrug in acknowledgment. It was worth a try. Truth is, I know she's stalling. It's much too soon for either of us to know the fullness of her true nature. "You won't have to do more than your share. I promise."

"Sounds good." She stands and comes over to my chair. We shake hands. "Till tomorrow, then."

"Will you be here at six-thirty in the morning?" I ask.

"I'll be here if you are," she says, giving me an impish look.

A longtime freelance writer of articles, JOHN CARDWELL is also a professor, novelist, and script writer.

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