The Psychology of Characterization: Writing Characters We Love and Hate

In our last writing chat session, Jon Stars and I discussed characterization, and the psychology behind it. Tune in Mondays at 7:00 to see the next live session. If you'd like to be a part of the next discussion, send in your questions about the new topic: WRITER'S BLOCK.

The best characters in fiction feel more real to us than some real people, and sometimes they are. One of the things that I love about writing, perhaps the thing I love most, is writing characters. Perhaps because it’s sometimes difficult to be genuine in real life. That’s where the psychology of characterization comes in.

Many writers--whether you're just starting writing or you've been at it for years-- wonder how to write real characters in fiction, and what makes the best characters. These people, animals, entities, come out of nowhere with feelings, thoughts, actions, that drive your story. If they’re not consistent, the story starts to feel like cardboard. Fellow author Jon Stars and I sat down to discuss characters in our last writing chat video. Watch the video to listen to the chat, or read below for some takeaways. 

How do you know if your characters are consistent? Three-dimensional? Interesting? What if readers don’t like your character? 

How to Write Characters We Love 

What People Really Care About

“If it’s not the characters, you might as well have a camera going across landscapes.”

The importance of characters must be understood. And cannot, I don’t think, be overstated.

(4:40) When people describe a book they really like, they may tell you about the plot, but they attach to the characters. That’s what drives the thousands of pages of fanficiton produced every day. Characters are what people really like to read, what keeps them turning the page. Why is this? Why do we care about these made-up entities springing from other people’s brains?

Relateability. We love movies, shows, books, plays because we can see ourselves in them.

And this doesn’t mean that every person sees all of themselves in every character. But a reader may see a part of themselves, or something they wish they were, or fear to become. They may see their friend in a character. Or their enemy. And, little by little, they become engrossed in the story, wondering as the character wonders; what do I do? What should I do? What will happen if I don’t do the right thing?

“For me, if the idea doesn’t have a strong character, it doesn’t go anywhere.”

Snape knows a thing or two about being the star of fanfiction.

The moral quandaries, the uphill battles, the tests of strength and patience are as thrilling to us as they are tests to the characters. And as we read (or watch, or listen), we approach the edge of challenges that we may only know a small piece of.

Relateability is a part of the reason why diversity is so important in storytelling. If you never see yourself in the stories around you, if everyone is always different than you, what hero do you find? Can you approach the challenges these heroes approach? Sometimes. But you’ll never have a hero that is your hero. And everyone needs a hero. 

Tune in Mondays at 7:00 to see the next live session. Leave a comment, or send me a message on Instagram @stemlersam about our upcoming topic, WRITER'S BLOCK!

A Stand-In for the Reader

(9:00) How much do you want your reader to know? This partly depends on how you want them to feel. Tense? Certain? Outraged? Your characters can help you do this.

In a first-person narrative, we look directly through the character’s eyes. From third-person, we oten look just over a character’s shoulder. Even with the knowledge of an omniscient narrator, readers know what is happening around a character, or several. The information this gives us tells us how to—or, often, makes us—react.

Your central character, in this sense, is the reader.

This, however, presents a challenge. Your reader knows nothing about the story, other characters, setting, and conflict. Your character may know all about them. To create a realistic knowledgeable character—a sensei, wizard, king, commander, captain—they can’t easily repeat their knowledge for the reader without sounding obvious and redundant (maybe even a little brain-damaged). So how do you tell the reader about the story without being obvious? There are several ways to deal with this conundrum.

“You don’t want your readers to be in the dark. But you don’t want your characters repeating things, either.”

The Beginner: The Beginner character archetype has spanned genres and time. They’re the apprentice, padawan, young cop, new doctor—they know just about the same amount as the reader knows. And reiterating their knowledge—perhaps with confidence, perhaps with fear—can make sense for the reader and for story. Be careful not to make this character ask too many questions, or explain too much. They should still be a character, they should be a person, not a prop. This is the part of your reader that doesn’t know, but wants to.  

“Make sure your character isn’t a sounding board for readers. They shouldn’t say ‘Oh my God, what’s over there?’”

All-Knowing Sensei: Your knowledgeable character knows what’s going on. The more they know, the more power and authority they have. Put the camera on this character’s shoulder, in their mind, and you can give your reader the knowledge—and the power, the authority—your character has. As the character reviews the situation, the past, considers the future, and their options, they do the same for the reader. The way in which the character considers these things (Bitterly? Cynically? With control and certainty?) also invites the reader into their personality, and make the exposition less obvious. 
 

This is clearly a very mysterious book...

“What’s he up to? A big part of the mystery is what IS he up to?”

Dark Mysterious Leader: This is, admittedly, a character archetype I can’t stay away from. The Dark Mysterious Leader (DML) may know everything, but conveys very little. This is, of course, the key to their mysterious charm. This also makes room for exposition in a number of ways. The other characters wonder—and can sensibly expound upon—the DML’s motives, past, actions, and intentions without being redundant. The information the DML does decide to give away can also serve as exposition. Again, the way in which they do this (Begrudgingly? Annoyed? Frustrated? Regretful? Deceitful?) will show the readers who they really are.

I Don’t Like Your Main Character Very Much

(12:00) Ouch. That’s a tough one to hear. 

 

Everyone wants to write a main character that is likeable. And this doesn’t always mean they’re good. But they must be interesting.

It’s tempting to write a perfect person, especially if this character is a big part of you (and don’t we all write ourselves into our books in some way?). It’s even therapeutic to write characters the way we would like to be, or hope to be. However, can you think of a character in a book or show you related to, who was perfect? Probably not. If you’re like me, they irritated you. You wanted something bad to happen to them, just so they weren’t so damn perfect.

It can be equally tempting (and, oddly, equally therapeutic) to write a character who’s 110% evil, one who is the worst of ourselves. There’s something peaceful about hating a character who absolutely deserves it. But this evil incarnation suffers the same effect as the flawless hero; the reader wants something bad to happen to them.

“You can create unlikeable characters both ways. When readers want the character to fail, they don’t like them.”

This returns to the psychology of character-building, and how we, as readers and writers, relate to these characters. All writers know that complex characters are essential. Readers quickly become bored with characters whose existence hinges on one attribute (Writers of the Uber Macho Female Warrior, I’m looking at you). But what really makes a character three-dimensional? Where is the line between consistent and simplistic?

Weaknesses and flaws, in storytelling, are not the same. A hero has a weakness so the villain can defeat them (or hope to). A character’s flaw is one that they must confront in themselves. A weakness is an avenue to move the plot forward. A flaw is the road to character growth.

Fully-realized characters often carry opposite, but equal flaws and strengths. This may be conveyed through Competence, Actionability, and Likeability. The Sensei character often knows too much and has become too detached or cynical to aid in the story’s conflict. They are the reader’s still knowledge. The Beginner character often moves too fast, with obvious and laudable good intentions, but too little knowledge to be effective. They are the reader’s impulse to action. Characters that are both competent and effective are often isolated, either too strong, proud, unpleasant, or even afraid to ask for help. They are the reader’s personality flaws.

Another way to visualize this continuum is through behavior and circumstance. A passionate lover, for example, might be beautifully loyal when adored, but vicious when spurned. A confident leader may pull the characters through a tough situation, but lash out when questioned. A shy friend may be a good listener and reliable shoulder to lean on, but little good when push comes to shove. The lively partier is fun and dynamic, but won’t let the party stop.

The same traits that make a character good can, in other circumstances, make them bad. But these traits together make them human.

“If you have flaws in a character and people see themselves in that character, they can’t help but like them…. Even if they hate themselves, they’ll like the character.”

Flawed characters—especially flawed heroes—reassure us that we don’t have to be perfect, and we can still be heroes.

Was this helpful? Interesting? Ridiculous? Feel free to share! And don't forget to Tune in Mondays at 7:00 to Facebook live to chat about a dreaded topic—writer’s block. What is it? How does it happen? How can we solve it? If you like, write questions in the comments, send me one on Instagram @stemlersam, or send your question during Facebook live.