In order for my readers to identify with the characters I create, I must be authentic with every word I write. It’s not easy. It means I have to dig for all those feelings I try so hard to hide from the world in order to appear put together. If you really knew what a mess I was, why would you want to read what I write? It’s like walking around naked.
How do I impart my own feelings of vulnerability to my characters?
We connect to others – whether they are real people or characters I make up – in our weakness, our faults, our bad habits, our failures … the things that make us approachable.
Let’s look at Karalee. A chronic overachiever and wannabe leader, she’s unhappy with every part of her life because the parts are not right. Or what she considers right.
She’s overweight but can’t embrace it because truly beautiful women are thin and petite. She obsesses about every piece of food she eats but can’t seem to stop.
She needs the validation of her friends to feel worthwhile, to feel like she has something to offer.
She loves her home but is always changing things in it. Painting, moving furniture, new curtains etc. (Not that there is anything wrong with redecorating!) 🙂
She must smile all the time and not share her fears, so she doesn’t burden other people, because they have enough to deal with. It’s her job to lessen the load for every person in her life.
She has no idea who she is or what she wants to do, because she wants to do everything. She wants to learn how to do everything she sees as beautiful.
There is a frightening amount of me in Karalee.
I’ve read a number of books with the beautiful, perfectly coiffed heroine, and the rugged, handsome hero and how they meet while saving the world from the biggest bomb ever invented. They know everything, they can do anything and of course they fall in love after a period of not liking each other at all.
Okay – I can’t identify with them. For one thing, my hair is never perfectly coiffed. I’m doing good to get it brushed every day. And disarming a bomb? I just wouldn’t have the slightest idea – my inclination would be to run (or walk with a limp) as far away as I could possibly get from it, dragging my family behind me.
I can’t write about people like that, because I don’t know any people like that. It’s in our weakness that we become knowable. And likable because we can identify – we all have weaknesses, and that’s truly where we can connect. We connect to others – whether they are real people or characters I make up – in our weakness, our faults, our bad habits, our failures … the things that make us approachable.
In order to create characters that will connect with my reader, I have to pull up my own weaknesses and deal them out to the ladies I create, like I was dealing cards at a poker game.
Karalee gets insecurity, Maisey gets anger, Melody gets immaturity, Anne gets irritability …
It’s not easy, I can tell you that. Maybe my covering comes from the fact that you don’t know which weaknesses are mine and which are made up. Maybe.
Now it’s Your Turn!
Here are some ways to add authenticity to your writing:
- Get brutally honest with yourself. Then write that feeling or emotion.
- Be willing to face fears and failures. How is it to face your fear of making phone calls? Or introducing yourself to a stranger? Write it down.
- Recognize that emotion you keep stuffing down in order to keep from dealing with it. Let it out, deal with it … and write it down.
I’m oversimplifying the whole process, I know. Those three little steps could be a whole workbook. They will take work. They might be (probably will be) scary. It won’t happen in one afternoon, it may take months.
I can’t emphasize enough the ‘write it down’ part. Having an epiphany can make it seem like you’ll never forget this! But you will. You’ll remember that you dealt with the issue, but you won’t remember the raw, guttural, steaming root you yanked out of your heart.
If you need help, or encouragement, reach out to me. I’ll help. karensaari144 at gmail dot com.
How do you feel about writing authentically?
