what you really really want
“The first step to getting what you want is to have the courage to get rid of what you don’t.” — Zig Ziglar
I’m struggling with my character development. My book character. Which also happens to be me. So, again, I’m struggling with my character development.
I’m trying to figure out (for the reader, mind you) two small ideas:
1) What’s my motivation?
2) What do I WANT
In a nutshell, I need to give you someone and something to root for, to cheer onward to the goal. And since this book is about this character (let’s call her, oh, “Barbara”) who does not have a back story of people rooting for her, this is somewhat foreign territory. Let me think out loud here for a minute.
At first, I didn’t understand the character roles. I wrote the book about one fascinating character – who, it turns out, is actually the antagonist. This character, Barbara, is the actual protagonist of the story.
Surprise twist! I did not see that coming.
I did not see that I am the primary character in any story about my life. How interesting is that? Professionals, feel free to weigh in. Meanwhile, back to character development.
This character’s stated reasons for coming to Alzapalooza are so thin they’re more like 2-D geometry than 3-D real life:
- The character decides to help simply because she can? Who believes this line? I certainly don’t.
- The character is between trips and needs a place to crash? Reeeally? At her mom’s? I think not.
- Maybe the character wants to help her sister? Ehh…weak…because why?
I think we need to examine this “Barbara” character (if that is in fact her real name) and look at what she has given us to work with in the initial 3 stories of the first chapter.
- She is armored heavily against her mother, whom she hasn’t seen/talked to in seven years – hostile relationship!
- She is going on a 600-mile hike across Spain
- She’s “a person who keeps her word”
- Her mother gets diagnosed with Alzheimer’s
- She’s concerned about “the job” that “needs to be done” related to her mother
- She seems to live in New Mexico & drives a jeep
- She’s solo, a poet-artist person, divorced, with five kids – most grown, one finishing high school
- She has a sister who’s also a divorced parent, that she is worried about because she’s taking on too much with their mother – sister is thinking of moving in with mother
- Mother has asked our protagonist to stay with her – yikes!
- She has brothers who live in Florida who show up/leave quickly, she hasn’t seen them in years either, doesn’t trust one of them (oh dear, that feels like heavy foreshadowing)
- She’s a “watcher” in social settings
- She thinks she has the least to lose in terms of emotional risk with the mother
- She’s leaving in the fall for Japan
First take on examining that list: what this character has given us to work with = NOT MUCH.
It’s almost all external. She notices landscapes, and weather patterns, and elements of place. She feels quite distant, emotionally guarded. She feels like an outsider who won’t let us in. I don’t even know what her job is, how she’s just driving around, traveling to Spain, to Japan…?
Hmmmm. Still feel stuck. Finding a character’s motivation is like having the character go to therapy: “Tell me why you’re here.” Maybe that’s exactly where to go next:
“Welcome, Character Barbara; my name is Therapist Avatar. You came from…New Mexico, is it? To be your mother’s caregiver? Tell me how that all came together, how you decided to do that in three quick little stories.”
“Uhhh…I…don’t really know. I think there was probably a lot going on in my head that I didn’t really share.”
“Say more….”
“I knew you were going to say that. Um. I dunno, that’s so long ago; I’m trying really hard to care, because I just want to get this book done.”
“You’ve been working on your book a long time.”
“Oh for the love of god – STOP THAT. You are ME.”
“Sorry. Go ahead.”
“Jesus. Okay: what my character wants is to get things done that need to be done. That’s stated, that’s in there. Character has emotional issues: check. That seems clear, this person seems a little wounded, a little broken. But they’re also a seeker, a spiritual seeker, trying to learn, grow. Is that in there?”
“No. That doesn’t come up until page 26.”
“How about if I beef it up in the New Mexico travel bit?”
“You could try that. Is that your motivation?”
“Would you just – again, ME….”
“Right, yup. Continue.”
“So – a get-er-done mindset: that’s practical? work ethic? Duty? Flawed emotionally: we can relate to that. Spiritual seeker: common for broken people.”
“These are character traits, not motivation.”
“UGH. Let. Me. Work. On. This….”
“It’s -”
“NO.”
“Just -”
“NOT. NOW. I told Emma I’m going to trust myself, back when I wrote this, that as I was creating the journal, some part of me, my subconscious, the best writer in me, was crafting the storyline without me knowing it. I’m going to trust the storyline to tell me the answers.”
“That’swhatIwasgonnasay. Yousaidthatearliertoday.”
“FINE. Thank you.” Sigh. “It’s in the beginning then. So let me look at it: I’m leaving, and without her knowing that I’m on my way to Spain, she and her counselor call me to come meet. Weird spooky blood magic. That sets us up for any Camino magic I want to introduce later. That doesn’t – that doesn’t matter here. Anyway: she apologizes for her most recent ‘worst thing’ in her long-running series to be entitled ‘Worst Thing Lately’: she apologizes, sincerely, for being horrible when Dad died. So here’s Dad. And his death. And she admits ‘I wasn’t there for you.’ When do I tell you I promised Dad to be patient with her for a year?”
“CanIgoahead….”
“Yeah, yeah….”
“Thank- all right yeah – that’s, that’s page 62. Of the pre-edit version. Mid-April, of your book that starts beginning of March basically.”
“Hmmm. The promise to Dad seems huge.”
“So significant.”
“REALLY? With the counselor amplification thing?”
“I – just – so do you maybe want to punch that up? I mean….”
“Huh; doing it for the death-bed promise to the good dad seems pretty believable. And – actually, as I think about it, I do think that is the motivation. Well yeah, of course it is, I end the book about Dad. He’s the ‘Mentor’ figure in my Hero’s Journey, here.”
“You’re on a ‘hero’s journey’?”
“I’m ALWAYS on a hero’s journey. Where have you BEEN?”
“I mean -”
“I ALWAYS have ‘Hero’ motivation.”
“Mmm, do you….”
“I know, I act like an idiot, but my motivation, definitely always Hero. Hello? I’m Aragorn. I’m Han Solo. I’m freaking William Wallace.”
“So we’re going for flawed hero.”
“Of course flawed hero. The BEST heroes are flawed heroes.”
“So now you’re the BEST hero.”
“GAH. I cannot win here. Hear me out: my character is super flawed. With a decent-to-good father/mentor/role model, who taught me to do what’s right as I understand it, no matter the cost. Stand up. Take action. Do the right thing. And then he asked me to be patient with her. And in my mind and heart, I answered: I’ll give her a year. And at the end of the book, I realize the year I have given is the Alzheimer’s year, of actual patience, not the year of gritting my teeth and letting her be awful. That was actually avoidance. This was actually taking action, doing the job I was sent – by Dad – to do. I want to honor the promise I made to Dad. And then I can be free.”
“You’re on a mission.”
“I am ALWAYS on a mission.”
“You think it’s the promise you made to your dad, then?”
“What else would it be?”
“It’s that, yes. And…do you see what else you just said?”
“‘I can…be free’?”
“Better go add some of this to those first three stories.”
“You think that’ll work?”
“You mean, do I think that’s motivation a reader might understand and root for? Promises kept to those we love, and giving everyone, including yourself, freedom?”
“Yeah. Does that work?”
“Yeah. Yeah, Barbara, I think that’s enough, that’s enough. That’s more than enough.”