Real Housewives and Other Characters

I’ve been reading a novel (nameless here forevermore) that I’m pretty sure is meant to be an allegory. The characters are flat, they commit highly improbable actions, and the only backstory we get on them is in the form of interminable stories-within-stories that don’t illuminate anything about their personality. Reviews have called this author a genius, so I guess I’m wrong. But I don’t enjoy it at all. I have to make myself keep reading because the book was a gift.

Of all the things that gall me as a reader, the biggest is how uninteresting these characters are. They’re quirky, all right—as improbable as their actions—but they lack completely the complexity and warmth of real human beings. That has set me thinking about what makes a character unforgettable, the kind you want more and more of.

Emotion: lay it on

One thing real human beings have is emotion. Even cool, controlled individuals feel things. A passionate person is much easier to get inside; their feelings are bigger, more colorful, more likely to draw us in as empathetic readers. Everything they say or do is intense and photogenic. But not every character can be passionate; there are the cool, controlled ones too. They’re a little harder to get on paper, because everything is within. But we, as the god of our books, can reveal their thoughts. We can also show the physical giveaways to some strong emotion playing out inside: the ticking of an eye, the crisping of a jaw, the brittle tone of voice. I’ve written with both sorts of protagonists, and I can say from experience that readers feel more identification with the emotional ones.

Not all characters are good, either. Villains should be just as three-dimensionally human as the protagonist. There are hate-filled villains and icy, methodical ones. But they both have to feel something, or else they might as well be AI. Why has this person shut down his emotions? Is he afraid of something? Is there something in his past that has damaged him? Does he at least feel anger or a sense of having been wronged?

A matter of conscience

Every sane human being has a conscience, and the greatest drama of all is trying to be true to that conscience under stress. A person who never feels remorse, never questions his actions, or is never uncertain what she should do is not a real person. Perhaps in some high-action thrillers we accept that the hero just acts (and violently), with no concern for what is right or wrong. But that’s to accept him as two-dimensional, not someone we can identify with as readers.

Tension is an important part of a successful novel, no? What is more gut-wrenching tension than wondering if our protagonist is going to succumb to his baser instincts or keep to the high ground? If somebody’s henchman going to continue in his mindless ways of evil or commit an honorable act and spare the helplessly bound and gagged prisoner a bullet in the brain? If he doesn’t even think about it, he must be a psychopath.

Friends and relatives

One further trait of the real person is that they have relationships. They have family, friends, or at least confederates. How they treat others and how others treat them is often a good sign of the person’s interior attitudes. Not everyone is domineering or a natural leader, but a really passive character is death on the page. Fortunately, sometimes the most pathetic milquetoast has had enough and speaks up for himself. The crustiest old misanthrope feels some tenderness toward a small child. That’s the sort of inconsistency that real humans have. We’re not all wrath, and we’re not all sweetness either. We often display different characters with different people—and who that person is tells a lot about us.

Think about the books you love best and why you love them. I’ll bet “wonderful characters” is on the list! Keep that in mind when you sit in front of your computer.