Saturday, August 02, 2014

Characters Are like Children

By Keith N Fisher

Have you ever watched a parent call their children? Those with large families often get the names mixed up. As a child, I laughed at my mother and had to answer as she recited the list. My name invariably came last on the list.

In truth, I am grateful to not be called, hey you. Even today, Mom goes through the list, and it’s still funny. The not so funny part is, now I find myself doing the same thing. Yes, I still only have one child, but I often recite lists with her and many other people.

The lists are also grouped. I call my daughter by a pet name I have for her mother. Sometimes I call my brothers by my other brother’s names. I eve use lists with people at work.

Whether this failing is a sign of old age, or insanity, I don’t know. I hope it’s not the latter, because I already see indications. Speaking of the latter, however, I noticed an incident of it, several times while writing this week. Let me explain.

I’m currently writing two books at the same time. The way I do it is, sit down and wait for Jack or Sam to tell me who wants to be written about. Jack and Sam are main characters in two different stories and I go with whoever has the strongest desire. The one with the best plot idea gets written about.

This often creates a problem, because each character is completely different from the other. Their life stories are vastly different. Sam was written for the national market and he says and does things, Jack would never dream of. Jack lived in the nineteenth century, and was written for the LDS market, and that only adds problems.

Like my mother, I sometimes use the wrong name when I’m writing. The images the mistake conjures are usually from the wrong time and a different lifestyle. It takes me out of the story and I have trouble wrapping my head around the change. That’s when I have to stop, and shift dimensions. It usually takes a little time.

You know, If I really believed my characters were real, I’d think they were laughing at me. I’d think they were jealous and trying to steal my attention.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.

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