Characterisation is yeast. Without it, your bread novel turns into a pancake yawn fest. But building well rounded characters that are captivating enough to keep readers up till 3am finishing your book can be a bit of an enigma.
If you’ve hung around long enough you’ll know I like to draw inspiration from all branches of the crazy tree.
Today, I’ve pilfered methodology from a thespian.
I know. I know. *Gasps dramatically* “But we’re writers. We’re introverts.”
*ahem, technically I’m not. Something about a mix up at the sperm bank, don’t tell anyone.*
But whether you’re introverted or not is irrelevant. It’s the methodology that’s important, not the acting itself. Although if anyone fancies throwing a little skit at the Bloggers Bash, I’m more than up for whipping out my inner diva…
Constantin Stanislavski was a Russian actor, director and all round smarty pants. He developed a model to train actors to act. Specifically, to improve their characterisation in order to make their portrayal of the written characters more believable.
There’s nothing like a bit of reverse engineering to sharpen your pencil…I think there are three key lessons we can take from Stanislavski to help us improve our written characters.
When I first heard the word Hiraeth, I knew it held greater significance than just the feeling assigned to its meaning. If you don’t know what it means, its:
When I first started writing, I was worse than a kid in a toy store. I wanted it ALL…NOW. I was desperate to be ‘good’ at writing. I didn’t want to just ‘be’ a writer, I wanted to Stephen King that shit.
This is it. The waiting is finally over.
Flash in a flash is back.
If I had balls I’d be telling you I’m balls deep in marketing research. But I don’t, and frankly I’m a feminist anyway. So instead, I’ll tell you I’m vagina deep in marketing research.
I’ve had more than one of those jaw dropping moments. The excuse me while I demonstrate my gormless look and allow my brain to crap itself.
I always thought being visual and a writer was a massive contradiction. I don’t mean having an imagination. Obviously a writer needs an imagination. I mean, in the way we process information.
Anyone who knows me, knows I am more than a little obsessed by dystopia. I’m like the uber geek fan girl constantly waving her burnt, shredded dystopia flag from the centre of whatever destroyed city I’m reading or writing about that day.
I’m getting increasingly frustrated. The kind of frustrated that leads to drastic, probably stupid, but definitely life changing behaviours.