Characters (and Picard-Fans) are Complicated
I am not a plotter or an outliner. I cannot sit down and map out each chapter in a novel, outlining what will happen. I can’t write that way. I’m not criticizing anyone who DOES write this way—it just doesn’t work for me.
The reason is simple—characters are complicated. They have faults, fears, and foibles. They are self-deceptive. They have doubts. They love and hate. They like and dislike. They have political views. They have religious beliefs. They have biases. They do good and bad. They commit sins and transgressions and sacrifices. They are noble and petty. They are debilitated by childhood trauma and ennobled by overcoming tragedies. Their families and their relationships are imperfect—sometimes wildly so. Characters are quirky and boring, exceptional and ordinary, talented and clumsy. They are intelligent and stupid.
And all at the same time.
In other words, they are human. (Even if they are Vorlons, Narns, Centauri, Vulcans, Klingons, Ferengi, or Picard-fans, they are still human.)
Heroes and heroines are not exclusively heroic. Villains are not exclusively evil. The throwaway character on the street is not simply a device used to ask a question of our hero or get our heroine to save a kitten up a tree or a turtle in a sewer. They are collections of WHATs—they are a glorious mishmash of WHYs.
I enjoy theatre. I most enjoy theatre when I’m part of the cast. I’ve had BIG parts and small parts. And if I am the lead with hundreds of lines and a dozen songs or if I am a spear-carrier without a single line, I still need to understand who my character is and what makes him tick. We’ve all seen the mocking commercials where some overwrought actor whines, “What’s my motivation?” and all he’s being asked to do is to drink a soda out of a can. We laugh and say, “How ridiculous! Just drink the soda already!” But it’s true. As an actor, I need to understand WHY I’m doing what I’m doing. Otherwise, I’m just a model. Otherwise, I’m just there to look pretty. (Stop laughing, Cindy. It’s just an expression!) And yes, I do realize that models sometimes need to portray an emotion and therefore might need a motivation, but you get the point. (Seriously, Cindy, it wasn’t THAT funny. And it was more than a sentence ago. You can stop laughing now. Breathe. Breathing is good.)
Back to characters. Characters have to be human and relatable. Even villains must be sympathetic (at times) or at least understandable. Otherwise, they are BORING and PREDICTABLE.
And for me, characters drive the story. They aren’t just there to move us from Plot Point 17 to Plot Point 18. Characters DO stuff. And that STUFF changes the story. We might go from Plot Point 17 to Plot Point ZZZ93XXX, because Moira Morgan gave £100 to a “throwaway man-on-the-street” character who looked down on his luck, just for taking a picture of Moira and Carl at Stonehenge. (Yes, folks, Moira and Carl are BACK!!!) When I wrote that scene in my current work-in-progress (WIP), I certainly hadn’t plotted it that way. But it was exactly what Moira would do. And it CHANGED EVERYTHING. That’s right—a simple act of charity, done in typical Moira-style, sent the plot off in a completely unexpected direction with unintended consequences. Last night, as I was rehearsing with the BeOne Celebration Choir, it came to my WHY I had named another “throwaway” character… what I named him. (Possible major spoiler for students of Celtic Mythology, so I’m not going to use his name here…) Suddenly, his motivations became clear. And it CHANGED EVERYTHING. When I finally understood who Branwen is in my current WIP, it CHANGED EVERYTHING. My beta readers said, “I did NOT see that coming.” (And frankly, neither did I! And that is what’s so COOL.)
So, even if you are a plotter or an outliner, don’t get so locked into your plot or outline that you don’t let your characters take over. They know who they are better than you do. I know that sounds insane, since they come from the author’s head, but… you gotta listen to the voices in your head. I know I do… By listening to your characters, you can allow the plot to go off in a different direction than you originally planned. And who knows, it could be the RIGHT direction.
When it comes to real life, however, we cannot be plotters and outliners. However, sadly, we too often are. Because people are HUMAN (even if they are purple Drazi). If we think we have someone else—anyone else—all figured out, if we put them into neat little boxes based on their apparent political affiliation or their religious headgear or their eye color or the fact that they think Picard is in any way superior to Kirk or their need to drink human blood to survive, we have sold them (and ourselves) short. We have given up on getting to know them. And when we do that, we don’t allow the plot (life) to move forward in the direction it SHOULD go.
And remember, don’t let fact that a Picard fan is completely and utterly delusional cause you to treat that poor soul as less than human—they’re mistaken, not evil. That delusional and wrong person is more complicated than their choice of the wrong starship captain. Remember the most important thing here—John Sheridan can kick any Star Trek captain’s butt. And even if you believe (mistakenly) otherwise, I can still treat you like a child of God.