I’m Motivated, But Are They?
I hit 33 000 words on my November novel today. I’m writing between three and four thousand words a day which feels like a good amount for me. Just right, as Goldilocks said. Though I do believe she was talking about porridge, and I have a fervent hope that this story of mine is a lot more exciting than porridge. Please let it be more exciting than porridge.
The way I work means that I don’t read over more than a couple pages of the previous day’s writing. I don’t read the story as a whole until it’s finished, just pick it up each day where I left off, read the last bit from the day before and make up the sentence that goes next. If I’m lucky, I know what the day’s scene will be, and I’m usually pretty lucky.
Yesterday however, I was all set to work and sat frowning over a blank page instead. As far as I could tell, everything was progressing well, but the story had taken a turn, and I wasn’t sure it wasn’t down a one way street. I eyeballed that white spread of screen for perhaps five minutes before getting up and going downstairs to make another cup of coffee. Calling the dog, I went outside and wandered around the garden, for once not thinking about how late I am getting the potatoes in (it’s spring over here, folks). Instead I was tackling one of the biggest issues a writer faces, one essential to successful novel writing.
I’m talking about character motivation. When I start a new book, I have a premise in mind. Example? My book Building Character started like this: a writer falls in love with a character from her own book, bringing her to life the same way Tibetan mystics are known to have done with their imaginary creations (and Dion Fortune, for those of you familiar with her). Except this character has some pretty major flaws. There it is, the premise, from which all else springs. Setting and characterisation come next, usually a few images of place, and the particular voice of the main character.
A lot of writers, so I’ve heard, fill screeds of pages full of details about their characters before they even type the first line. They learn all there is to know, more than will ever make it in the book. I get to know my characters while writing their stories, but the idea is the same – the writer has to know their characters. Especially what I call the two golden questions: what does the character want? And how far are they prepared to go to get what they want? The rest is all detail. How they wear their hair, whether they drink tea or prefer espresso, whether they’re naturally shy and have a pet hamster at home.
What I’m really talking about is motivation. And this was what I was mulling on while I walked in absent circles around the garden, the dog fixedly watching me in case I might decide that chasing trucks with her would be more interesting. Teresa, my main character was about to do something, and I needed to stop and check that this particular action, and all things resulting from it, were in line with her motivations. Which is just a fancy way of asking ‘would she really do something like that?’ a simple enough question, but oh so important.
In the end I decided that indeed, Teresa would do something like that, and she opened up to me as a deeper, more complex character than I’d known her so far (what’s especially cool about this, is that I was actually, subconsciously on the right track with her; stopping to think about it was almost second-guessing myself – and discovering I was right all along). So I disappointed the pooch and went back inside to the computer. Teresa did what she wanted to do, and it was quite an experience, one that’s left me, and the soon-to-be reader, knowing her all the better. There are consequences to her actions – there always are, in fiction, and not all of them she will have anticipated, but she knows what she wants, or thinks she knows (wink), and those consequences be damned. She’ll deal with them, no matter the cost. And the cost will be high. It always is in fiction. That’s what makes it worth it.
In some ways, fiction’s a lot like life, after all. Know thyself – and your characters.
Filed under: Writing Journal
