It’s Alive!

So, you know your characters inside out, you can picture them in your head, you can smell their perfume, and you know exactly what drives them to act. Now you just have to convey all of this on the page. Being at one with your characters is only the beginning. Bringing them alive in a text in a way that readers will get to grips with is an entirely different problem..

When reading, you automatically build up a physical description of a character in your mind’s eye. Take ‘the young man entered the bar’. You most probably have an image of a young man, albeit a very fuzzy one. But every reader will probably be picturing a different person, and it’s up to you as a writer to ensure they pick up on the important points.

Victorian novels used to devote hundreds, sometimes thousands, of words to describing a character, but these days that isn’t always necessary. Think carefully about how you want readers to see a character. You can say a great deal about them in a little space: ‘The young man, decked in baggy blue jeans and a chequered, double-stitched jacket worn lightly over a tucked-in blue t-shirt, entered the bar.’ But you can also risk boring a reader with clumsy description – do we need to know exactly what he is wearing? Description is largely passive, so keep it as tight as possible: ‘The young man entered the bar, his jacket clutched against the blood stains on his shirt.’

Whilst description is a potent means of making a character stand out on the page, it is sometimes necessary for a novelist to interject. ‘He could barely see, but beneath the drooping lids his eyes still burned, a look of pure hatred the barman would never forget.’ This is obviously the narrator’s statement, but it helps add depth and mystery to the scene. Is the barman responsible for the young man’s injuries?

Physical action is always more effective than passive description. It can say more than any interjection by the author, and in a much more involved way. ‘He staggered forwards, slipping on the crimson pool that had formed beneath his bare feet. There was an audible intake of breathe from around the room as he pulled the gun from his waistband, pointing it unsteadily in the direction of the bar.’

This more subtle form of description leaves the interpretation to the reader, but can be much more effective than a simple list of physical attributes. ‘Everybody could see the silver crucifix coiled around the barrel, and tucked beneath it, creased so many times it was barely recognisable, the photo of his baby daughter.’ These small details in the scene provide hints to the character’s motives and psychology. They are descriptive, but they also suggest a little more: the crucifix could signify the man’s honourable motives, the photo justifies the revenge. Association can be reversed, however, so don’t always use it conventionally.

Another means of putting your character across on the page is by allowing readers access to their thoughts. These interior monologues provide information that cannot be ascertained by description or action. ‘This was it, he thought, trying to make sense of his blurred vision, trying to see past the pain, I’m finally going to kill him. This is for you, Sara.’ Likewise, actual speech can reveal just as much about your character. ‘“Time’s up Frost,” he muttered, centring the gun’s sights on the motionless shape behind the bar, “It’s all over. You should have stayed the hell away from my family.”’ Finally, other people’s thoughts or speech can be used to bring your character to life, adding another dimension to their behaviour. ‘Frost clamped his hands on the worn wood of the bar and faced the wounded man. Payne looked as though he’d been run through a mangle then fed to the dogs – he could barely stand up. ‘“Payne,” he scowled, raising his arms in defence, “You know it wasn’t me that killed your kids. It was you, Payne. You did it yourself.”’