When
actors are asked how they avoid depicting characters as clichés, many respond,
“It’s there in the story.” When writers want to develop their characters, they often
reread what they've written to uncover opportunities that already exist in the
work.
When I
write a scene, I begin by trying to get all my thoughts onto the page. While doing
this, I can’t view the scene from all perspectives at once—all the people present
plus the setting, which usually functions as a character. It’s only after time
has elapsed that I can go back and observe the scene from a bird's eye view.
It’s like turning the cylinder of a kaleidoscope and seeing a different image,
a different perspective, with every turn.
The
same is true for movies. When I view a film I love but haven't seen in a while,
I find elements I missed the first time. This isn’t the same as aspects of the movie
I didn't remember. These are actually things I couldn’t see before because no
one can see everything the first time. Only by viewing the story with the
benefits of time, distance and a fresh perspective do I notice what I didn't before.
For
writers, distance is important because it not only gives us time away but also
an emotional buffer so that when we return to the story, we’re looking for more
than what we need to fix. We’re looking for the story to speak to us, tell us
what it wants to be now. In essence, we’re going back in order to discover what
the story already contains so that we can use these elements to deepen individual
aspects of the work and the work overall.
One way
writers deepen their work is to ask questions of the characters. (I thought
this was weird the first time I heard it, too.) The questions usually take three
forms. What are you not telling me (the writer)? What are you not telling the
other characters in the scene? What are you not telling yourself?
It’s in
these liminal spaces that writers often find deep truths about the theme of a
story, what it’s really about. We also discover elements of our characters that
make them fully realized, individual, memorable. Similar to all conversations,
an added benefit of asking questions is that we get at the underlying story elements
organically, without imposing anything on the work. Rather, we enable what’s
already there to speak.
This
doesn't mean every character is developed to the same degree. Neither does it
mean every character is good. What it means is that they’re more true to life
because in getting at who they really are, we enable dimensionality and layers.
This is the complexity actors aim for when portraying a character. Paraphrasing
Konstantin Stanislavski, we can learn a lot from our cousins the actors, when
writing, reading, or watching a film.
So the
next time you go back to a novel or film you love, look for the hidden gems.
Pay attention to what you're seeing. Not to what you remember. But what is
actually in front of you. And don't discount those things that don't seem to
fit. If they’re there, they have a place in the story, just as they do in
everyday life.
Adele
Annesi’s bestselling cultural heritage novel is What She Takes Away (Bordighera Press, 2023). Adele is also a curator for the Ridgefield Independent Film
Festival. Her MFA in creative writing is from Fairfield University,
and her long-running blog for writers is Word for Words. Adele’s podcast is Adele Annesi on Writing.