4 minute read
Jes Battis Trust Your Characters: Balancing People and Plot
Ido most of my writing in the fantasy and mystery genres, and both of these traditions are often criticized for being “plot-based.” Despite the fact that such forms are enormously popular and have rich histories going back to the origins of storytelling, they’re still seen as lacking in characterization. But it’s more than possible to find a balance between world-building, plot pacing, and characterization. I talk about this a great deal in my creative writing classes, where the majority of students are often writing some form of genre fiction (to be clear: genre fiction is just fiction that a lot of people read, and can’t be considered as a monolithic whole). There’s no secret formula to create a healthy medium between plot and characterization. But there are some strategies which have helped me—even if I don’t always follow them to the letter (it’s your story, after all).
Judy Blume tells us to care about our characters, which is deceptively simple advice. To care about these people, you have to know them. I make D&D-style sheets for my characters, listing their abilities, hopes, fears, wants, needs, mistakes, and connections across the story. Don’t roll the dice with your characters, though. They should do things for a reason. Neil Gaiman says that the most basic form of a plot is when two characters want different things. You can weave an entire story around this struggle, and it works especially well if the characters are close. As you figure out why this conflict exists, you’ll develop both your characters and your plot. You should know what they sound like, how they’ll react in different situations. Find ways to distinguish them—in rapid-fire dialogue, you need the reader to understand who’s who. Read it aloud to ensure that everyone has a particular sound and feel. In her book Little Fish, Casey Plett includes a character who’s very precise in her speech, and her voice is always distinct. Does your character swear? Mumble? Monologue? Ask yourself why, and how it makes them unique. Multiple perspectives can also help you to link character and plot. In her fantasy epic The Winged Histories, Sofia Samatar tells the story from four points of view. Each of these women experiences similar events in radically different ways, and we learn about them by how they react to key moments (for example, one character gets drunk and rants, while her future love interest watches unseen in the background). If you’re going to include characters whose lived experience isn’t your own, be sure to consult with communities and hire sensitivity readers to assess your work. N.K. Jemisin has some excellent resources on her author site for writing about Black characters in the fantasy genre, but you have to do more than just research. Ask yourself why you need to tell this character’s story, and if you’re the best person to tell it. If you’re simply reflecting the diversity in your own communities, then you should know people that you can consult with (as long as they’re willing). If not—maybe it’s not your story to tell.
A good mystery novel seems to hinge on plot, but it’s often the characters that drive these stories. In her own character-driven work, Tana French creates a complex relationship between the detective and the victim, so that the deceased is more than just a body. Her detectives are always learning about themselves as they approach each case. Sara Gran incorporates elements of deconstruction in her Claire Dewitt mystery novels by creating an imaginary detective school that unites her flawed protagonists. She uses minimalism to tell us about her characters: “I looked normal. Or as much as I ever would.” She also makes use of dream sequences, and this is a fun way to reveal character information. I do this in my novel Bleeding Out to show how each character behaves at an imaginary fair, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer devotes a whole episode to a shared dream vision. Eden Robinson uses dreams in her Trickster series to develop her central character, Jared, while also tying in significant elements of his shared Haisla and Heiltsuk worldviews.
My agent once told me that every scene should have some tension, however subtle. As writers, you can weave in that tension while exposing your characters as well. Why are they nervous about a trip? Why do they need this conversation to go in a certain way? What nagging doubt is lodged in the pit of their stomach? By figuring out what your characters want (and what they fear), you’ll be able to tell a story that reveals who they are. They’re going to be different from you—need different things—but you still must empathize with them on some level. Especially the villains (since a good villain thinks they’re the hero). Tell a story that lets your characters shine, and they’ll help you discover the plot along the way. Trust in their knowledge, and in your own, as well.
