Pushing Characters Off Cliffs

Most writers I know are gentle people. Many are parents, teachers, or others devoted to the care of people and animals. They send wishes for peace at this time of year. But most novels don’t go far if tranquility is at their core. We need to leave our peace-seeking selves behind at the desk when it’s time to stir up conflict.

And this can hurt. Becky Levine recently posted on Facebook about her wrenched stomach and ragged breathing when pushing a character to do something the good person inside her wished he wouldn’t. But was necessary for the story. I’d just had my own revelation that a character was not as lovely as I’d thought, and related to feeling sort of dizzy with dismay, while feeling bound to persevere, after a making pumpkin bread with cranberries. Becky agreed such a break was good, but suggested chocolate chips instead of cranberries. We writers are not just colleagues but allies, and we empathize when our characters go astray. Even as I urged her to let her character stride unblinking into trouble.

Maybe the key here is “letting.” Trying to get more accepting of drama, I began this blog with the image of pushing a character off a cliff, but it’s probably more true to think of it as not standing in the way of a character bound to jump. Really, things aren’t that harrowing in my work in progress, but any misstep even of a conscience can feel that way to cautious me. I began my novel for middle readers wanting a sweet and ordinary girl at the core, and to explore some magic. That’s in place, but as I told a friend, the magic seems to be turning dark. “Magic often does that,” she replied.

So here I am in a forest dimmer than the one I first imagined with a character who’s angrier and has more secrets than I envisioned. I don’t think I shoved or even nudged here there. Did it happen because I had her read The Secret Garden, (something I’m not sure will stay in the finished draft), but perhaps Mary Lennox’s anger was passed along? Or delving deeper into family relationships, did I find myself deeper inside her? Getting to know the girl and her circumstances better, did rough feelings naturally evolve?

Now I no longer have a sweet book and entirely admirable character. I feel the sort of worry and split we do when someone we love does something that we don’t. Usually we can work our way back to love. It’s time for pumpkin bread and tea, getting comfortable with turning lights on and off. Making room, the way my Grandmère’s ceramic angels and my husband’s dinosaurs find a place together.