The Subtle Art of the Character Arc...
(Or, not-so-subtle, as the case may be)
Have you had a brilliant idea for a book but received feedback from agents or readers that it just didn’t excite them? Maybe you’ve received a lot of requests for the full manuscript based on the query (go, you!) but no offers or representation.
When I get super excited about an author’s premise but I hear there is a lack of interest, I immediately expect to see several things missing when I read the pages.
The Character Isn’t Compelling Enough
Now, if you’ve written a kick-butt character who’s out there taking names and getting stuff done, you may think you’ve done your job. Strong character, clear goal, and a lot of fantastic on-the-page scenes. Sounds like enough, right?
Unfortunately, no.
A surprising number of excellent books have come across my desk over the past year. Fantastic concepts, original worldbuilding, and some really evocative, memorable writing. But the one thing each of those books had was a noticeably flat character arc.
What does this mean? How do you know if your character is not compelling enough?
To answer this question, I’m sharing three simple questions you can ask at any point in the writing or revising process to help make your characters more compelling.
Is your Main Character strong, confident, and capable from page one?
I understand the appeal of writing someone who is strong and has their *poop* together. But a perfect character (or close to perfect) isn’t relatable. A Regency heroine who wants to defy the conventions of her time may be unique and exciting, yes. A world-weary detective who’s seen it all and isn’t afraid of the obvious darkness in people allows us to feel protected by someone who will run toward the danger. A young adult who is on a critical journey, is smart, brave, and knows themself may be a lot of fun to write.
But…
In order to make a character relatable, your character needs to have flaws. The core wound concept exists for a reason, and it’s not just because writers like to damage their characters. When a character has something wrong, something deep and dark which maybe they don’t even understand, we can connect to them better. We relate to the imperfections, as something primal within us understands that a person who is strong and capable often HAD to become that way.
Consider this: if your character has a positive trait that defines who they are on page one, what is the shadow side of that quality? What need, lack, or injury have they compensated for by becoming that strong character?
If you have developed the underlying aspects of your story, you know your character’s goals and conflicts will be shaped by their personality. But this includes their flaws, not just those things that make your kick-butt character amazing!
Look over this example:
You’re writing a work of historical fiction set in the 1940s about a woman who refuses to marry for security/money or social prestige. She’s an independent woman making her way through an office job and she faces sexism and politics and everything else you could imagine putting her through, and she handles it with grace and poise.
Zzzzzzz.
No, not really. If we assume the worldbuilding feels authentic and the writing is strong, I am sure I would find this premise really interesting. But if this character is powerful on page one and still powerful at the end, what have you shown the reader? I am confident this story will start to lose steam within the first 25-50 pages.
Why?
The character’s shadow side is missing. She can’t grow and change and have a dynamic character arc if she doesn’t have SOMETHING internally that needs to be satisfied via that pursuit of the external goal.
All these pieces work together. When your character has no core wound or hidden flaw, it will be tough to create an arc for them. They get what they want and…the end, book’s over.
Consider this alternative: What if the woman is a strong, independent woman working in the city because her mother abandoned her as a child. Our heroine might have grown up feeling like motherhood and family were the cause of her own home life being tragically damaged. Maybe she decided she never wants to be saddled with the burdens that made her mother leave. Now, in her book, as she journeys through a corporate workplace, you can poke your finger in that wound and force her to grow through it. She may not change her path, but now you can add emotional depth to every scene.
For example, if she has a strong relationship with a male colleague who has a loving home life—happy wife who also works, beautiful kids, perhaps she’ll see a side of motherhood that she never expected could be real. That might cause her to question her values and beliefs. It may send her on a path of discovery that ends up in the same place—success in business—but the journey will feel different and will move in different directions if she’s not one-dimensional, but struggling, searching, and being challenged on the path.
Is this character an Archetype or a Stereotype?
If you don’t know the difference between archetypes and stereotypes, here it is in a nutshell:
a archetypal character is one who is a perfect representative of the genre in which that character lives
a stereotype, on the other hand, is a highly oversimplified version of that representative character
A stereotypical character can be labelled by the most general and simple terms:
a fish out of water
the reluctant hero
the hero
the caregiver
the villain
the love interest
A character becomes an archetype when you bring that character to life with the depth and complexity that hits every note that “representative” should have. Who is the most memorable fish out of water character? Bella Swan, the pale, awkward teenager who leaves the sunniest state in the country to find her true destiny as the powerful fated mate to a vampire who lives in the shadows. Bella has all the markings of the fish out of water. But what makes her a character archetype that writers and readers and movie fans will always remember is the perfect representation of that character type in Twilight. From her clumsiness, disinterest in things her friends care about, to her willingness to forego her own humanity!
Katniss Everdeen is the quintessential reluctant hero. All she wants is to feed her sister and keep her mother from dropping back into a catatonic depression. What happens to her? That very love for her mother and sister drives her to become the hero that takes down the Capitol.
Who is a heroic character? When the hero is fully developed, they may be Frodo Baggins, Luke Skywalker, or Meg Murray.
A love interest becomes a real person when he’s Joshua Templeman from The Hating Game or McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy.
If you want your characters to come to life, ask yourself if you’ve created a stereotype or if you’ve elevated that character to archetype?
Last but not least, this is my favorite question to ask authors about their characters:
Are you so in love with the character that you think about them even when you’re not writing?
This isn’t a commentary on any one writing style or process. The heart of this question is why do you/do you LOVE your characters? When you think about your character, what makes you root for them? Hurt for them? Feel intense satisfaction when they get what they deserve? No matter what genre you’re writing, if you can connect with deep feelings for your character, TAP INTO THAT! Bring that to life on the page.
When I read All The Dangerous Things by Stacey Willingham, what kept me riveted was the messy, complicated main character. She’s not just a stereotypical mother whose son was abducted, whose marriage fell apart in the aftermath, and who may or may not be the perpetrator of the crime… She’s a woman who has been through so much. Every single flaw and comes together to drive this story to its conclusion. No one else could be Isabelle in this moment in her story. And I’ll never forget her.
Not everyone loved thriller novel Foe by Ian Reid, but oh my gosh… That book is a masterclass in character building. Every single character in that book is memorable, unique, and fully developed. Far from the one-dimensional stereotypes you might imagine given the book’s themes!
What makes Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao un-put-downable is Zetian. She is an absolute brilliant, monstrous, wonderful character who embodies female rage, resistance to history, and a drive to come into one’s own healing that will live in my memory and heart for years.
Why Crying in H Mart is such a powerful memoir is not simple because it’s a story of a daughter’s grief after losing her mother. It’s powerful and vivid and evocative and even at times controversial because Michelle Zauner tells the ugly truth: about racial identity in mixed-race families, about food as a peculiar and divisive cultural influence, about imperfect love and even more imperfect loss.
When you have a fantastic premise but a book that’s stalled, look at the characters who live and breathe in your book? Are they plastic? Shallow stereotypes with strong shoulders but no soul? Or have you created someone that the reader will remember long after the end?