Part 1.3 Other writers + Creating characters
1 hr 30 mins
- Read character sketches in novels
- Do a quiz on the readings from Orwell and Heller
- Listen to novelists on how they started
- Start writing yourself.
Introduction
This is the meatiest section of the first part. There is a response to some professional writers’ motivations, an analysis of two published character introductions, and a multi-stage exercise on character creation. Phew!
Other Writers
This course has contributions from the novelists Alex Garland, Michèle Roberts, Tim Pears, Abdulrazak Gurnah, Monique Roffey and Louis de Bernières.
They talk about their various journeys towards writing:
- watching their Dad draw comic strips – but not being as good at drawing as writing
- the “origin” story for writing probably changes every few years – was inspired by and angry at Catholicism – love of language from a bilingual household
- unhappiness as a child – using writing to feel better
- the “why” emerged as they did it – moving country and using writing to adjust
- habit since a young child, writing diaries and journals – was a journalist
- father was a poet – had always wanted to be a writer – had a motorbike crash in mid-30s and wrote first novel then
Reflection
It’s heartening to hear the variety of “origin stories” on offer from the professional writers.
What they have in common is that writing or verbal communication was always present to them or their family, which makes sense, as someone who is not adept at or interested in language would probably not much care about being a prose writer anyway (though maybe some screenwriters might hail from visual influences over verbal).
Otherwise, their arrivals at writing were differently timed and not through the same intention.
I find this reassuring because I have often worried about the “correct” way to become a writer, as if it needed to be something I always wanted or was aware of. I have usually been fuzzy on this point; sure that telling stories and thinking dramatically came naturally to me, but not sure that I wanted to professionalise it. I had a stark point of comparison at university, when someone I knew proclaimed they had always known they had wanted to be a writer. I felt quite inadequate in comparison, as if talent was in proportion to certainty.
I no longer feel that, but it’s nice to hear some professionals share that they weren’t convinced either.
Exercise I
Compare the featured writers’ responses to your own. What elements of your life experience and personal circumstance do you think might influence your writing?
Like the featured writers, I was always verbal, and language use and reading was encouraged. It may come naturally to me, but there was certainly nurture there too, at home and school.
But I don’t see story-telling as essentially verbal. Otherwise how would be make sense of music and dance and painting? I think screenwriting blends the verbal and visual mediums somewhat; a good screenwriter will know how a story will “look” on screen.
So I would posit two influences for me wanting to be a writer: verbal, and imaginative. The imaginative influence was found in the country landscape I grew up in and the friends I grew up with. We were keen on exploring and interacting with the natural world, and formed stories out of it. I found myself doing this on my own, too. Sometimes out of boredom, often loneliness, but always enjoyment.
Exercise II
Develop a character from your notebook. This could be someone you saw in the film, or someone you had already thought of.
Write a short character sketch – no more than 200 words – in which you concentrate on appearance and any particular mannerisms you noted.
James looked taller than he was. At most six foot, he naturally stood with the elongated poise of someone used to looking down on things. His curly hair was shaved at the sides and cut to a square top. On the sides of his head were swirls of tattoos done in dark black ink, just visible against the dark brown of his skin. The same tattoos went down the sides of his fingers. Along with his north African features, his eyes were a hazel green, which caused me to look twice. He was young and strong, and his movements were edited and occasional, suggesting some formal training — it could equally have been dance, martial arts, or the army. His clothes were neutral and good quality, not telling much of a story. The fact that he was decorated in one way and plain in another suggested that he belonged to two separate worlds, and could move between each naturally.
Course Tip!
Make sure that the character sketch is about someone you want to spend time with; from looking ahead, you will be returning to them quite often!
Exercise III
Analyse the character sketches done by George Orwell’s Burmese Days and Zoë Heller’s Notes on a Scandal.
The first one is told in third person, and has access to details about the characters being described that we would expect from a traditionally neutral narrator. The second is in first person, and it feels more aligned with the story-teller’s concerns than the character being described.
I think this is a good reflective exercise at this stage, because depending on who is introducing a character, we are getting an edited version of the whole.
Exercise IV
Now go back to your character sketch and use what you’ve learned about detail to bring the character more to life.
I decided to change my sketch from third person to first person, and include more of the narrator’s concerns. I notice that my “third person” language is more assured and all-knowing, whereas my “first person” struggles to understand what the character means and only has a partial reading of them.
I wouldn’t usually have this much description in one place from a first person, as I like to simulate the feeling of having character details revealed as the scene progresses, as in life. But the exercise does concentrate my mind on the different things I want to include, even if I spaced them throughout the scene afterwards.
James looked taller than Anthony but when he stood up to help him with the drinks, I saw they were the same height. James stood with the elongated poise of someone used to looking down on things. His curly hair was shaved at the sides and cut to a square top. On the sides of his head were swirls of tattoos done in dark black ink, just visible against the dark brown of his skin. When he put the drinks down, I noticed the same tattoos went down the sides of his fingers. He was young and strong, and his movements were edited and occasional, suggesting some formal training — it could equally have been dance, martial arts, or the army. His clothes were neutral and good quality, a sartorial “no comment”. But his extensive and coordinated tattoos told another story.
Along with his north African features, his eyes were a hazel green, which caused me to look twice. His gaze was friendly, assured — but also watchful, as if there were two personas. The one being looked at, and the other looking.
I tried to put him at ease by sharing some of our experiences at the pub, so he felt included. What I hadn’t expected was that, when he was listening, he flinched slightly, like either the sound of certain words, or the effort at listening, triggered a nervous response.
Reflection
This was a broad introduction to the practice of writing, which started as the course means to go on: mixing advice, theory, and practice.
Give the course a spin yourself!
www.futurelearn.com/courses/start-writing-fiction