CHARACTERISATION by Val Tyler

Often, I find biographies more entertaining than novels and, call me slow, but I have only just worked out why.

I was reading ‘Reach for the Sky’ which is a biography of the WWII fighter pilot and tactician Douglas Bader. Now, he is the sort of character that would grace any novel. Some people hated him, while others simply adored him. As a small child I met him and loved him. He was funny and friendly and very kind to a little girl. I know an ex-army officer who also met him, but hated him. He said he was cocky, brash and bullish. Both of us were right. Douglas Bader was all these things and more, and that is what makes reading about him so entertaining.

Writers should not only include dynamic people in their stories. The world is full of those who, on the face it of it, seem pretty dull, but even they should not be 2D. Such people still need unexpected or thought-provoking characteristics to make them worthy of a place in a book.

When teaching characterisation in schools and universities, I sometimes ask the students to think of somebody they admire and tell me one bad trait about that person. I then do the same with an appalling individual and ask for a good trait. One junior school child suggested that Adolf Hitler had no redeeming features. I pointed out he was kind to dogs. The child was stunned. Hitler was evil; we all know that; he could not possibly have any good points! But he did.

Without WWII, it is doubtful we would have been interested in Adolf Hitler or Douglas Bader, but their dogged determination and ruthless need to win made one a monster and the other a hero. They are genuinely 3D, but it was the circumstances that made them so interesting. As writers, we must never forget how the setting and the plot can bring interesting characters alive.

I will continue reading novels and, for the most part, enjoy them, but it is only when I read many-sided 3D characters in the correct setting and plot that I will be lost in a world created by the writer.

The Most Difficult Part of Writing - Val Tyler

The Most Difficult Part of Writing  - Val Tyler

I am sitting at my computer staring at a blank screen.

This is the most difficult part of writing… the beginning.

I have no idea how to start.

The view beyond my desk is inviting. I should be walking the hills with my dog, absorbing the fresh air and tranquility while reveling in the pure joy of living in the midst of so much beauty.

But I cannot.

Instead, I am sitting in front of a blank screen because I have an idea. It’s not much really, just a picture in my head. I’ve had it for some time. It won’t shift.

I see a tall dark lad - one could call his expression brooding. I don’t think it was before, but it is now, much like the scene through my window. Perhaps my dark sky is reflected in his black eyes, except I can see no beauty in the resentment he is feeling. There is no tranquility in his frustration.

He walks with an easy stride so as not to betray his feelings. If they cared enough to notice, his former friends might realise how he is feeling; and if resentment and frustration were his only emotions, being found out wouldn’t be so bad. But he has a deep, shameful secret.

He feels humiliated.

People see his little sister scuttling by his side. These days she is always close by - there is no one else to look after her – and so instead of hanging with his friends, he child-minds a small, innocent, vulnerable girl each and every day.

She is his humiliation. It eats away at his dignity. It lowers his self-esteem and fires his resentment and frustration to the point of fury. White hot, pounding fury.

But that is not the worst of it. He feels guilty.

His little sister is almost running by his side, trying to keep up. He knows he should slow down, take her hand, maybe even say something comforting, but he cannot. Any show of tenderness might make him crack. Then all the confusion, misery and overwhelming fear will explode out of him and they would know.

They would know everything.

That’s it. That’s the picture I have. It’s not tangible. I cannot show it to you because it doesn’t exist anywhere except in my head. I have to do justice to the events that brought him so low. I have a fair idea how he might get through it – although I’m not sure he does.

But there is more. There is something I know that he doesn’t. I didn’t know it when I first saw him walking, but I know it now. If he knew, it would break him. The reality would overwhelm him.

I need to write this down as much as I need to breathe.

It is my joy and my curse.

I cannot go outside, I cannot play with my dog; I have to write.

I must do him justice. I must tell his story and yet, my screen is blank.

This is the hardest part of writing…

…the beginning.