Playing with characters and voice

There’s been a common theme in blogs posts I’ve seen lately. That theme being Voice. The ‘how-to” and “what is it” of writing, crafting, finding the all important Voice. This got me thinkin’. How do I find, use, write, craft Voice?

Bear with me as I get a wee bit fragmented.

I’m sure you’ve surmised by now that I haven’t had any real writerly training. Not sure if you can count high school English as that was a looooong time ago. Not gonna tell you HOW long. HA! Anyway, I HAVE read loads of bits on finding Voice and how to make the best of it and all that jazz. The problem is, I learn by doing. Yeah, I’m one of those people who have to DO IT to get it. I can read instructions till I’m blue in the face, but until I do it, I’m lost.

So how does a learn-by-doing lass learn how to craft Voice? Depends. I firmly believe that an Authorial Voice will just happen. It’s like finding the perfect pair of jeans. You’ll try different styles on, but either the hips are too snug, the hem too long, the thighs too loose, blah blah blah… until you scream in the changing room. But once you find that elusive pair of jeans, it’s like the clouds part and angels begin to sing. Everything just….fits.

Now, a character’s Voice… That’s a little trickier. Characters have to feel real, speak real, laugh real, sigh real, burp real. I may have thrown that last bit in there, but hey, if your characters DO burp, it has to be real!My compadre Alisha has a great post on doing character studies here. Check it out! She’s awesome. And I’ve tried the character studies and/or profile worksheets. They work for me on the technical stuff like hobbies and physical traits, but I cannot (for the life of me) glean any sort of TRUE personality from a worksheet. It feels too stale and flat to me.

So I reach back into my theater roots and create my character’s Voice by ACTING them out. Yup, you read right. I get all Martin Scorsese or Quentin Tarantino up in here! The basics are exactly the same: Who, What, Where, Why and How. Thank you, Mrs. Jordan, for beating these into us during class. The difference is in the implementation. Sure, you write out the basics (just like a character worksheet) but instead of the character coming alive first on paper, the character comes alive in YOU. They don’t just SPEAK through you, they ARE you.

How to achieve this sort of multiple personality disorder loveliness? Preferably alone. Writers are known for being a little off-kilter, but no reason to confirm it for anyone. *wink* Seriously, grab a scene from the mini-movie already running in your head from your new bright-shiny WIP and get into character! The scene is there so pick your character, whether it’s the MC, the best friend, the love interest, the postman, and roll with it!

The best way for me to Voice-out a character is to ‘play act’ them during the scene. Speak the lines, use the gestures, roll the eyes, flip the hair, frown with them, smile with them, cry with them! DO IT! I’ve found this to be the best way, for me, to get a real feel for my characters and HOW they act and react. Does that gesture feel right with that dialogue? Yes or no? While speaking in their Voice, does my character have a tendency to do certain things? Like rub their chin, pick at their fingernails, chew the inside of their lip? Yes? Write it down! That is your character. Does your character place emphasis on certain words while speaking? Do they have an accent? Do they pace when frustrated?

If you’ve truly gotten into your character, all of these things will happen, because that is who they are. It will come natural. And when you’ve found the first Voice, the others will follow suit. Once you’ve established how character A says something, character B will have a natural reaction. It’s a lot like reading your MS out loud, but with the action in there as well. And many times you’ll find that certain actions during the dialogue will solve random issues you have in your writing. Do your CP’s mention something feeling awkward during the dialogue, like John Smith’s chronic collar-popping? Act it out in your character’s Voice. Does it feel natural? Yes? Maybe tone it down a notch. No? Ax it.

Scared to try it? Don’t be! You already have voices in your head, right? Well, now give those voices legs, arms, movement and swagger. Let them LIVE through you.

Still nervous? Try a dark room. Then you won’t feel so “in the spotlight.”

Besides, if anyone asks what the H-E-double-hockey-sticks you’re doing, you can honestly say you’re REHEARSING. And dramatics (aka theater folk) have a worse wrap than us writers. *snortle*

Now go get your schizophrenic on!

Fun with Avatars

When I got up this morning, I totally had the intention of working on my latest WIP. I didn't have the opportunity ALL week to work on it and was going through a slight withdrawal. My creative juices were dammed up inside threatening to overwhelm me. It got so bad, I became slightly aggravated with everyone around me. It was weird, like a freak writers PMS thing.

The Kiddo is in the midst of potty training so this morning kind of got shot all to hell for writing. I couldn't 'get in the zone' watching the clock, timing Kiddo's trips to the potty so we avoided a mess. So after he went down for his nap I figured, "this is it!" Yeah, no. It didn't happen. Why? 'Cause I found this website...

But it all works out! I spent all afternoon working on my characters. I tell ya, it was a freakin' BLAST!!! I highly recommend this to anyone who would like to get a semi-visual on the characters in their head. You know what they look like. You write about them, have done the character sheets, maybe some interviews, and you have this picture in your head. With this trick website I was able to sort of 'flesh out' my characters more. 

Now, it's not exact, but it comes pretty darned close. I would have liked more options with hair and colors, but it was still a lot of fun. Since I had so much fun, I thought I would share!

These kids here are the main characters from my WIP Fiáin , Bree and Kennon...

              

                 Bree

Kennon

And my new WIP (tentatively titled Gifted) is centered around these cats here, Moira, Finlay and Devlin...

Moira, Devlin and Finlay

The best part of this character journey is really seeing your characters. Playing on FaceYourManga was too much fun and I will definitely keep this in mind the next time I feel like 'fleshing out.' It was a great exercise in making those voices in my head just a little more real...

Happy Writing!

In a sharing kind of mood today...

Anyone who actually follows the ramblings I post here probably knows I have been dabbling with some writing. I have a full WIP that has been ‘under the knife’ for several months now. Just your typical editing for a first time writer: hack, slash, and rewrite. *grin*

Well, the last several weeks to months I have had a new story occupying my brain when I try to distance myself from WIP #1. It’s another YA type dealy-o, only more sci-fi-ish with fantasy elements.

I am probably certifiably crazy for doing this, but I would like to share a little ditty that spewed out the other day when working on character development for my main gal. This is background info that sort of morphed into a semi-short story. I like it, it makes me smile, and I thought y’all might too. Feel free to let me know your thoughts if you wish. Enjoy!

“Loser! Loser! Orphan of a Boozer!” sang the kids around me. I tried to ignore them. This wasn’t the first time they’d teased me. I wasn’t an orphan, I had my Pop, but my dark glasses hiding my ‘blind’ eyes marked me as a Boozer kid.

Pop had said a ‘boozer’ once meant a person who drank tons of alcohol. That was before the Collapse and everything changed. Now it just meant someone who was really sick from the ash and rotten food. Lots of times kids with Boozer folks had problems, like being blind.

The difference was I wasn’t really blind. I faked it to stay safe. Have my whole life. All eleven years of it.

I hated the glasses. The lenses were so dark you couldn’t see my eyes behind them, but that was kind of the point. They were like goggles and made me look like a bug. That was why the other kids teased me. I was different. The other blind kids in my class couldn’t afford glasses so their crazy looking blank stares were open to everyone. Nobody had much money around here, but Pop was good at improvising. My glasses were proof of that.

“What’s wrong, Moira? Have you gone deaf too, you Boozer freak?” sneered the white-blond boy in front of me. Paul, Peter, or Pecker somebody, I forgot his name. I didn’t care to remember it. “Maybe you can get a fancy headset for your ears to match your glasses.”

Did I mention I hated the glasses? I ground my teeth. Where’s Fin?

What’s-his-face wouldn’t leave me alone. I tried my best to keep the anger deep inside like Pop taught me, but it still boiled in my gut like last night’s potatoes. Lately it had gotten harder to bottle things up. Pop said it was puberty. Ugh. If I could just hold on until Fin showed up, everything would be okay. He would get the creeps to leave me alone. He always did.

Without moving my head, I glanced around the school’s front quad. Where is he? He’s never late.

What’s-his-face pushed me and I almost fell back off the bench I sat on. I grabbed the edge with one hand before I could topple over. My knuckles tuned white on the cane in my other hand. That does it!

I stood and began walking toward the school, guiding my steps with the cane. What I really wanted was to beat the crap out of Jerk-O with it, I knew how, Pop and Fin made sure of that, but it was ‘strictly forbidden.’ Nobody could know what I could do.

Jerk-O and his friends followed me. He stalked right behind me and continued poking me in the spine with a sharp finger. They kept singing their stupid song, fueling the fire in my blood. I fought to keep cool. I was losing.

Glancing up to the sky, my stomach sank. Dark clouds rolled in, shielding the once blue March sky. Crap. Calm down, Mo. I needed Fin. The familiar churn of energy was building in my gut, just below my ribcage. It pulsed with my racing heart.

I angled my walk toward the parking area. There were people over there so maybe Dipwad and his Goons would leave me alone with witnesses. Then I could calm down and wait for Fin.

Fat raindrops fell from the sky like someone had overturned a giant bucket. People in the parking area ran for cover. The creeps didn’t seem to notice the change in weather and never let up on their teasing. The wind whipped my black hair around my face with a sting. Thunder clapped overhead and the sky darkened. No. No. No. This can’t happen.

Assface and Company were laughing at my direction, making jokes about a blind girl driving a transport. A pair of palms jammed into my shoulder blades and I pitched forward into the mud. My cane clattered to the ground and my glasses bounced off my face and out of reach. I scrambled in the mud trying to reach them as the wind howled past my ears, dragging my long hair over my head, blinding me. The words Jerkoff yelled at me were lost in the wind, but I caught ‘freak’ and ‘witch’ and something about ‘toxic waste.’

The boot to my stomach was not lost, however. I gasped for air and curled to my knees as Assface pulled back to kick me again. The wind got stronger, the rain was a full on tsunami, and I fought to keep the power from escaping. It was no good. I couldn’t hold it. It was too strong. It had never been this strong before. I squeezed my eyes shut. The raging elements intensified with my fear. My body started shaking from trying to fight the pulsing energy.

A crunch of plastic snapped my eyes open. A booted foot lifted from in front of my face to reveal my broken glasses. No! A deafening boom turned heads to the east where a black tornado began devouring the field behind the school. People screamed and the ground rumbled underneath me. It cracked and zigzagged across the lot before opening wide in the parking area. Several cars were sucked into the gaping earth.

Balled up in the mud, I stared in horror as people ran around trying to keep away from the widening gap. Their screams filled my ears.

Another boot to my side flipped me to my back with a loud grunting growl. I wrapped arms around my middle and glared at Assface. His suddenly wide eyes and open mouth almost made me laugh, if I were not so beyond angry and scared. I knew what he saw. The reason I was to wear the glasses at all times. My bronze colored eyes, that had an odd metallic sort of sheen, were glowing gold.

Assface found his voice. “You are nothing but a crazy, mutant FREAK!”

The fury and hatred filled me. I could not hold it any more. It wanted out, and now. My whole body shook and, even though the wild wind and tornado threw freezing rain in every direction, my skin was hot. A car in the parking area exploded and fingers of flame shot up to the sky, angry swirls in the wind. Then another. And another.

Something was wrong. The energy from my core pulsed out along my body, guided by something other than me. This was not good. I had never felt like this before, so helpless.

I sat up and looked at my hands with a start. All along my arms and hands danced an odd golden flame, but it did not burn me. It moved like liquid and was not affected by wind or rain.

The Jerkoff grabbed my shirt and pulled me toward him, his disgusted scowl in my face. I stared at the refection in his brown eyes; my reflection. My long hair swirled weightlessly around my head like I was under water. The golden flames danced in and out of the wavy tangles.

“You are a witch!” he snarled. “You…you…you’re EVIL!” He spat on me and scrubbed an arm across his face.

I snapped.

My head was thrown back as a surge of energy built up under my ribcage. My eyes stared up into the blackened sky. Jerkoff didn’t have his hand on me anymore and I couldn’t feel the ground under me. Am I floating? I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

Fin’s voice broke through the torrent of screaming, rumbling, and crashing around me. He was screaming my name. Fin, help me! I can’t stop it!

The power that filled me, swirling like a whirlpool gone mad, brought tears to my eyes. It hurt so bad, but felt good at the same time. I surrendered to it.

I looked out at the school grounds and the chaos I created. As if in slow motion, I saw people pulling others out of deep crevices in the earth, exploding cars, flames reaching for the sky and freedom. Debris flew through the air as the tornado closed in, rivers of water surging through the parking area and spilling into the open earth.

And there was Fin. He ran flat out toward me, his face a mask of fear and worry. I could no longer hear his words, but his mouth moved with the letters of my name. A pulse rocked my body and I dropped to the ground.

The energy rippled around me like a pebble in a pond. When the rings of energy spread, anyone in its path was thrown back like an explosion, flat on their back. The ripple faded into the earth several feet away in all directions.

I jumped to my feet, searching the fallen for Fin. No one moved.

“FIN!”

My cousin’s familiar shape rolled to his feet, swaying slightly. He turned and ran to me.

“Mo! Are you okay?” He grabbed my thin shoulders and gave me a good once over. His hazel eyes were full of worry and his auburn hair full of mud.

“I – I don’t know.” I looked down at Assface at my feet. “Oh God, Fin! Look!”

Assface, the boy whose name I didn’t know, didn’t care to remember, stared into the sky with sightless eyes. Blood traced lines from both eyes, his ears, his nose and mouth. His skin was pale and sickly as the rain beat down on him. The others around me all looked the same as the boy.

Fin reached down to the boy’s neck then laid his head on his chest, ear to the boy’s heart. A moment later Fin sat back on his heels and looked at the others on the ground. I didn’t understand the dark expression on his face.

“Fin?”

He stood and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Fin was only a year older, but always seemed more than that.

“Finlay?”

“He’s dead, Mo.” He looked out at the other bodies circling me. “They’re all dead.”

My brain stopped working. What had I done? My hands covered my mouth, but no scream came. I was numb. I was a murderer. I was – evil. My heart beat crazy in my chest and I couldn’t breathe.

“Mo?” Fin tightened his grip on my shoulder. “Moira!”

Everything stopped. The wind disappeared, the tornado vanished, the fires swallowed themselves whole, and the rain cut off like a faucet. Spots danced in front of me and I swayed.

“Moira!” Fin grabbed me as I fell limp in his arms and the world faded away. 

 

© DB Graves 2012