And May I Introduce To You...

By Lisa N. Collins

Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?  It took me years to write, will you take a look?  That is the first question all writers have for their intended readers.  The trick is to convince readers to take that look.

One of my favorite authors, Jonathan Kellerman, is a master at drawing vivid and plausible characters.  He makes full introductions of his characters so that readers have sense of who the characters are and how their behavior fits into their assigned "personalities."  For example, in his 2000 thriller, Dr. Death, Kellerman introduces a character by way of a newspaper article.  His well-established protagonist, Dr. Alex Delaware, reads an article about a doctor who was murdered.  From there, descriptions of the doctor and his business are provided; within a few sentences readers have a clear picture of this "deceased" character.

Kellerman is never at a shortage for an array of interesting characters; in this very same book he introduces his partner, Milo, in a few short words.  On the second page of Dr. Death, readers learn that Milo works for the LAPD; he is gay; he and Dr. Delaware have consulted with one another and solved mysteries for years.  The relationship between doctor and police officer is one of mutual professional respect; that comes through quite plainly early in the story.  Milo's private side is exposed; Kellerman describes Milo as "craving solitude," and references to his job duties are given.  In just a few short sentences readers come to "know" Milo, if they have not already met him in some of Kellerman's previous works.

The above referenced book is an excellent example of how characters can be introduced to the audience.  Creating characters is a form of ventriloquism; writers, like ventriloquists throw their voices around in different characters.  Many writers have given accounts of how their characters "came and/or spoke to them" in some fashion.  In many cases, the story can be likened to an airplane, the characters as pilots and the writer as passenger.  When I write stories, I very seldom know what the outcome or resolution will be.   The "characters," and the dynamics among them and the settings of the story help determine that.  More often than not, I feel as if I am "taking off" with the characters I have created, heading for literary parts unknown.

My biggest bete noire is when writers just drop characters into the collective laps of their readers.  A good way of dodging this obstacle is to introduce the characters as they emerge.  Consider the following examples:

      Joe Smith could not believe what he was hearing.  Tom was
      at it again!  Joe wondered if Tom would ever learn that hounding
      and harassing Sam was no solution.

Joe, et al. are dropped like bags of cement onto the readers.  Who and where are they?  And what set Tom off?  Was Tom's ire at Sam justified?  Did Joe take any action?  If so, what?  Are these adult characters or are they children coping with playground politics?

This is the kind of thing that makes my bangs stand on end.  I read a story by a writer in March of 2001 on an author's discussion board I then frequented.   That writer used this very format.  This writer had a web page and had written other stories that were quite good.  In the cast of that one tale, this writer gives no indication as to who the protagonist was and how the protagonist fit into the story.  I didn't like the way that character was dumped on anybody who read it. 

The work in question was similar to the "fanfic" genre in that it was created as a response to a biography.  In this writer's own words, the objective of the story was "to create a character and to bring that character in to do" what this particular writer wished had really taken place in the true account.

Mixing in fiction with the lives of real people that one does not know is difficult.  Like a professional, gourmet chef, knowing how to measure out each portion of fact and believable fiction to turn out a well-done story takes special effort.  Again, the operative word here is believable.

Another bete noire of mine are stories tht are so dependent upon repetitive reminders.  For example, I really cannot abide "That 70s Show."  In the REAL 1970s, nobody went around declaring what decade they were living in.  Nobody went around saying, "It's 1978" or whatever the year was.    I dislike "That 80s Show" for the same reasons.  My chief complaint is that constantly announcing the time frame weakens the story.  Even the names "That 70s/80s Show" suggest a lack of imagination.  If the audience has to be constantly told what era the story is set in, then the story is rather clumsily crafted.

On the other hand, shows like "The Waltons" and "The Wonder Years" are well done period pieces.  Clothing, hair styles, vintage film footage, cars and implements speak to a time frame.  For example, a show like "The Wonder Years" which was set in the late 60s and early 70s, one would never see any Honda Odessys or Nissans.  Dodge Darts were the order of the day and  Nissans were, up until 1985, marketed under the name Datsun.

Any number of period pieces, regardless of the medium, e.g. film, books have been very effective tools in telling of a bygone era.   The following are examples of setting the time period and introduction of the characters.

                   Joe Smith inwardly cringed when he heard his co-worker
                   Tom hounding the new copy boy, Sam.  Although Sam
                   bore up under Tom's tirade, Joe wondered if he should
                   take his concerns to the shop foreman.

                   Joe then glanced at his watch.  He could not wait to slide
                   his punch card in the time clock.  He imagined that he was
                   punching Tom when he pulled down that clock lever.

Readers now know something about the characters.  They know they are grown men on a blue collar job.  The "punch card in a time clock" speaks to a previous era.   Joe, as we now know, cares about Sam.  He considers the office politics -- should he bring his foreman into his co-workers' dispute?

                   After leaving work, Joe headed for the parking lot.
                   He had promised his wife he would pick up some
                   groceries on the way home.  As he scanned the lot,
                   he quickly spotted his truck.  It was a banged up
                   brown 1954 Chevrolet pick up.  The truck needed
                   lots of work, but that was to be expected in a 10-year-old
                   truck.

Readers learn more about Joe.  They know now he is a family man and he is clearly on a budget, as his banged up truck will attest to.   It is possible that Joe has concerns about making ends meet as he considers the condition the truck is in.

1964.  The truck is 10 years old, so that immediately sets the time.  Making references to events of the era the the story is set in is also effective, e.g. "two days after LBJ won the election, " "She Loves You was in the Top 5 this week," "she drove her new 1963 Ford Falcon."  The possibilities are limitless.

Stories are also limitless, like imagination.  Literary pilots will certainly endorse the sentiment "the sky's the limit" because imagination is that literary sky.

Copyright 2002, Lisa N. Collins

About the Author

Lisa N. Collins has been writing short stories since age 7 and has been a lifelong Beatles fan.  She has been a Beatleologist since age 12.  A late talker and early reader, she has been largely influenced by the Beatles.  She has worked in advertising and editing and is currently working in insurance and loving it.  She says that the best thing about writing stories is that like a ventriloquist, one can throw their voice around and create different characters and personalities.

Tell Lisa Collins what you thought of her story!

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