Enough is Enough

One of the first things I learned in writing classes was the importance of giving your characters flaws as a way of making them distinctive and memorable. Your characters, particularly the main character, need to stand out from others in your book. They also should stand out from characters in other books.

However, the more books that are written in similar genres, the more difficult this becomes. How do you make your character stand out? Are more “flaws” the answer?

We humans all have a variety of flaws and quirks. (Animals do too, although often not as fatal as their two-legged counterparts.) As writers, we sprinkle our characters with obvious imperfections. They bite their nails, wear lopsided glasses, eat too much Hagen Daz. They dress funny or cut their hair weird or paint their bodies with tattoos. Then there are the stereotypical attributes we’re all tired of. Cops who drink too much and lawyers who work twenty hours a day, both to the detriment of their family life. Women who have an ordinary job during the day but have a secret life at night. I’m sure you can name many more.

I just finished a mystery about a woman cop who was so tough and hard-boiled, she was blinded by her obstinacy. So much so that she wasn’t even close to being real to me. I stopped reading John Grisham when I had enough of his characters’ bleeding-heart liberal attitudes. And I’m a liberal. Enough is enough.

Cops, lawyers, streetwalkers are humans too. Why not give them more realistic qualities? Don’t get me wrong. Characters need to stand out or we will forget them the minute we put the book down. Here’s an example of a character I think could be a role model for all characters. She’s from a movie, so think screenplay not book, and drawn so artfully that I think the title will become part of our lexicon. “Blue Jasmine.” Writer: Woody Allen.

Blue JasmineJasmine is a woman having a really hard time. She married a rich man, but he’s cheating on her. I don’t want to give away any more of the plot than that but suffice it to say she’s freaking out in her new life as a no-longer rich woman. Cate Blanchett is stellar in this role and we feel her pain, her anxiety, her angst, right down to our core. She has the jitters, she has the dropsies, she talks to herself. She’s deeply blue. And, although we don’t always sympathize with her, we feel her blues.

Woody is a master at character development (in all his works.) Sure he exaggerates the flaws, but we all know so well the person he is describing. The characters resonate with us because we’ve met them in real life. Maybe not exactly like the movies, but close enough. “He’s just like my uncle Joe. She’s like my best friend, Susie. He’s like the grocer on the corner.” Damn, he’s good.

How does Woody do it? If I knew, perhaps I’d be selling more books. He is a superb teacher.

There are many writers who can help us hone this skill. If only we would listen.