Character Imbalances - Revisited!

Hey all!

This year in January, I made a resolution to read way more than I did last year.  That said, I've been spending a grand amount of time at my local library on rainy spring days, picking up and skimming through random books that hold interest to me.  During one of these bookshelf scavenges of mine, I ran across a book by Ye Grand Writing Master James Patterson called "Run for Your Life".

As I was reading and my little analytical brain was scouring for elements that could be mimicked in my own writing, I realized that something was missing in my knowledge of character imbalance.

In case if you need to get refreshed, I've previously written two posts about character imbalance, one explaining what it is and one explaining how to use it.  I won't go over those again, but I definitely do need to clarify what I said when I wrote those posts over two years ago.


Earlier, I basically implied that character imbalances must all be character flaws.
THIS IS NOT TRUE.


In "Run for Your Life", the main character Michael Bennett is an inherently relatable character, and yet he doesn't have any personal character flaws.  I felt instantly connected to him, but not because he was struggling in some personal way, such as self-doubt, anger, or pride.  Rather, he was humble and hard-working and extraordinarily likable.


Here's what James Patterson did differently:

1.) He exchanged character flaw for circumstantial pressures.
Rather than giving Detective Michael Bennett a personal inability or inner conflict for character imbalance (like a demented leg that keeps him from getting around while on the job or an inflated ego that blinds him from crucial clues), Patterson gave his main character circumstantial pressures for character imbalance.

As the story opens, the detective comes home for a long day on the field and must instantly care for his sick children...all bleeding ten of them.  That's when you learn that Bennett is a single man whose wife passed away from cancer a little while ago, and he's the only one who can provide for his kids, along with the help of a sweet Irish nanny.

I haven't gotten that far in the book, but you can already tell that Bennett's children will serve as an obstacle to him.  He seeks to protect his children and to care for them, and yet his antagonist is a highly-volatile, psychopathic killer.  Bennett's desire for his children's safety, placed in opposition to his dangerous work, is just as relatable to the reader as any other character-flaw-type issue Patterson could've given Bennett.  After all, which of us haven't struggled in a small way to keep those we love safe from harm?

2.) Simultaneously, Patterson pumped up the "no-bum" characteristics.

In my first post on character development, I talked about a main character like Sam who has it all: brain, brawn, and beauty.  I basically warned against giving your character everything in his favor, as those characters tend to be 2-dimensional and predictable.  Yet, as I thought about it more, Bennett is actually Sam.  He's a detective and a natural problem-solver, definitely no mental slob.  From all of his field work, you know he has a strong physique, and his mixed Irish genes give him above-average looks.

However, because Patterson still gave Bennett character imbalance (albeit in a different form), he is able to keep all of those strengths without making Bennett over-powered, contrived, or arrogant.

In summary, I earlier suggested that you ought to write a flawed character placed in hard circumstances custom-made to fix said character's flaw.  But Patterson writes a well-rounded character placed in hard circumstances that are so difficult, you don't know if even the great character will be able to handle all of the stress.

Now, let me be clear.  I'm not advising that you should only write "circumstantial pressure" character imbalances from this point forward.  In my other posts about "character flaw" character imbalances, I mentioned some fantastic Disney/Pixar movies that have successfully used the "character flaw" character imbalance style.

However, in my current opinion (this could always change, hehehe), I really like circumstantial pressures best, as I've been experimenting with that type of character imbalance in Where The Broken Things Are.  I've been free to up the intensity of the plot while still retaining respect for my main character (or so I hope, hehe), and that's been working best for me.

But, as always, every author is different, so do what works for you.

Any thoughts or comments?  Let me know your preference in the comment section below!

Write on!

Clove

Where The Broken Things Are - Chapter 4

Before the fictional story, here's a real-life story about my other hobby, kids.  :P

Yours truly is actually only an author by night.  By day, I'm a violinist/businesswoman/student...which explains why I write so terribly and infrequently, hehehe.  Anyway, last night, I was over at yon college orchestra, practicing with my orchestra's string sections: violins, violas, cellos, and basses.  Typically, we meet with the whole orchestra (including the percussions, woodwinds, and brass) from 7:15 to 9:05 with about a 10-15 minute break in between.  However, of course, since we were just the string instruments, we went from 7:15 to 9:30 without a break.  (If you didn't know, string instrument players are notoriously hardcore.)

During that time of much sweat, very tears, and such ugh, we had a nasty fight between the first violins (aka. the experts) and the second violins (aka. the amateurs, like me).  The first violins claimed that we weren't playing a particular measure correctly.  (Absurd, I know, right?  x))  The measure in question was in 6/8 time, which means that there are 6 beats per measure, and the notes to be played fell on beat 1, beat 2, and beat 5.  At a zippy tempo, those aren't exactly easy notes to hit, so, at first, we second violinists thought that the issue was our fault.

For nearly thirty minutes, we were working on this one measure with the first violins getting all up in a rage that we couldn't count correctly.  (Let it be known: though we're the "amateurs", we have some excellent second violinists too.  My section leader and I both teach violin, so we have to know our stuff.  I was personally baffled.)  We used every counting practice technique there is known to man: slowing down the tempo, tapping, bellowing (which happens to be very effective, by the way...just look at drill sergeants XD), etc.

Finally, when we were all suitably discombobulated and disgruntled and dis-whatever, I pulled out this old, old, old counting trick, which is to write out how many beats are in each note over the note.  Thus, I would have written a 1 over the first note, a 2, 3, and 4 over the second note, and a 5 and a 6 over the third note.  However, what I actually wrote was a 1 and a 2 over the first note, a 3, 4, and 5 over the second note, and a 6 and a 7 over the third note.  There were 7 beats in a measure that was supposed to only have 6 beats.

I hesitatingly turned over to the guy who was sharing stands at me and showed him what I wrote.  My stand-mate is a white college freshman who has always been pretty nice, but he tends to chuckle at my mistakes (because he happens to be leagues better than me), and I felt like I could've been totally wrong because I was so exhausted by that point.  Anyway, my stand-mate kind of shrugged and said, "That's weird," so I showed our conductor, and, just like that, the entire problem was fixed.

Because.

The STUPID composer.

Wrote a quarter note.

Instead of an eighth note.

In the second violin part.

But not the first violin part.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was how I burned my violin.

...

Just kidding.

I'm hardcore, remember?  I can take stuff like this.

I can.  I definitely can.

I'm hardcore.

...

Um, while I go cry in a corner, here's the next chapter.  XP

~ ~ ~

Chapter 4

- FOR THE MANY -

     The train paradox.

     Imagine.

     A range of forested hills and mountains.

     A sleek, swift train, slithering through the terrain at an incredible speed.

     A conductor in the train.

     The conductor is transporting goods from one city to another.  He has plenty of fuel and very few concerns, as he has made this exact journey routinely.

     Doesn’t his work seem straightforward and uncomplicated?  All he has to do is maintain the proper course and arrive on time.  To others, failure seems impossible, and struggles seem fabricated for attention.

     Even the conductor initially believes he will be fine.

     But, still…

     We suffocate.

     We suffocate.

     Not long after traveling some distance, the conductor is warned by radio that, on his current path, there are six humans, bound, gagged, and laid on the tracks.  On his only alternative track, there is only one human, who is also restrained on the tracks.  The train is moving too fast to stop in time, and no one else is around to help free the captives.

     The voice over the radio asks the conductor which path he will take.

     If he continues forward, then he avoids blame.

     Fate has made its deliberate choice, not him.

     He was only doing his work.

     If he switches paths, then he is the sole recipient of blame.

     He has made his deliberate choice, not Fate.

     He was tampering with the value of human lives.

     In the first option, he chooses to kill six humans over one and makes his delivery successfully undamaged and on time.  Yet, everyone who hears of the incident - his closest friends, then his family, then the media - they all condemn his gross disregard of life.  They pin him for selfishly evading guilt, they cast him out as a mass murderer, and, eventually, the conductor is also sentenced to death for his crime.

     In the second option, he chooses to kill one human over six, and he is likewise successful in his delivery, receiving pay and satisfying his customer.  Furthermore, because he courageously chose to save six over one, he is cast in a heroic light and rescued from the death penalty.  To outsiders who hear of the incident, this would be the only acceptable choice, given his circumstances.

     Yet, from that point forward, only the conductor knows that he must exist with a spoiled reputation and the burden of his guilt.  Every day, even when he awakes to a full mailbox of seething hatred and unbearable accusation, he must live.  When he is confronted by the begging, sobbing family members of the deceased, he must live.  When his mind is torturous at night and plays on repeat the feel of the impact, the pleading eyes of the one, the task of scraping the blood off the train…

     He must live.

     On this path, he learns to prefer death.

     The young boy, only thirteen years old, sat at Heinrich’s desk, raising his eyes from his textbook after reading the tragic dilemma.  With a deep sigh, he said, “That was a sad one; I didn’t like it.  But which one would you pick, Dad?”

     “There is only one right answer.  Look again.”

     The boy glanced down at the text, frowning.  “The conductor loses both ways, doesn’t he?”

     “No.  Human lives are all of equal value.  Six is greater than one.”

     “But…”  The boy slumped into his crossed arms on the desk.  “I don’t understand why that’s the better choice.  The conductor seems to be far more unhappy by killing one instead of six.”

     “You’re mistaken.  The conductor is unhappy either way.  Furthermore, he is not at liberty to choose what will make him feel the happiest; he must choose what will help the world the most and hurt the fewest number of people.  That is the essence of mercy and of justice.”

     The boy sighed again.  “Well, I don’t see why I’m learning this.”

     Icy blue eyes glinting in the dim light of the office, Heinrich laid his strong, large hands on the desk in front of his adopted son.  “One day, you will be responsible for making the right choice of the train conductor.  If you choose the six, you will inevitably die.  The path of unhappiness is the only path that will lead you to survival.  Remember this lesson, Skain.  The conductor must live.”

~ ~ ~

Write on (AND IF YOU'RE A MUSIC COMPOSER AND YOUR NAME HAPPENS TO BE LEROY ANDERSON, EDIT YOUR FLIPPING WORK, YOU NINCOMPOOP)!
Clove

Where The Broken Things Are - Chapter 3

Hiya, everyone!

How have you all been in the past two days?

On Friday, I went to my first scholarship interview out of two and came back...er...mostly alive, hehe.  :P  I definitely must admit that I was duly (and, arguably, overly) impressed by my competition.  I was definitely expecting them all to be intellectually stunning, but I hadn't thought they were going to be as commanding and aloof and suave and professional as they were.

But, oh well.  Thankfully, I don't get quite as intimidated or awed by Alpha-type people as I did when I was younger.  If anything, I'm just realizing that I can't rest on my "smart for a small-school, suburban girl" laurels anymore.  I've got to blow by the rest of my peer group in high school if I'm going to be even average at this university, so I'm determined and inspired by the people I met to keep working hard and growing my people skills until I graduate!  :D

Hehe, second winds are beautiful.  x)

Anyway, I've got a month break before my next interview, so I'll try to write more during this time.  In the meanwhile, here's Chapter 3 to Where The Broken Things Are.

(As a quick disclaimer, I should add that the organizational style of this new story is very different from what I've done before in The Immortals, which had massive chapters and several breaks in the chapters.  Instead, I've just made each break its own chapter, resulting in many small chapters.  This way, I can introduce and play with the several themes in my story without having to worry so much about flow.

Anyway, don't be concerned that the last chapters and this one don't seem to be coherent.  I promise, once I post Chapters 4-6, everything should make sense, I...um...hope.  :P)

~ ~ ~

Chapter 3

- AS IF IN A DREAM -

     “Do you know why I chose you, Skain?”

     The boy sat in the back of a leather-seated car, his arm wrapped protectively around his little sister.  Behind them, the dirty-paneled orphanage was fading away in the underground darkness, a tombstone rising from the uneven, potholed road.

     The rusty sinks whose water tasted like blood, the rows of creaky, metal-frame bunk beds in that narrow room, the impatient workers and the frequent leg-beatings - they were leaving every nightmare behind for what they had been assured would be a “safe, pleasant home”.

     A home?

     That word had no meaning or context to the boy.

     He only knew of the orphanage, which was neither safe nor pleasant.

     “Skain, out of all of the boys in the orphanage, do you know why I chose you?”

     The boy looked at the driver and then at his sister, who was sitting wide-eyed and self-aware of the details in every second.  Outside, lights, strung from the above-ground’s main power grid, created passing shadows that loomed and then faded with constant, hypnotic regularity.  The buildings along the street were mesmerizing too: blocks of brick, sheer faces of cement, stretching on for miles and miles.  Were there really people in those structures?  They seemed so forsaken…

     “I first saw you when you interfered with Brielle’s beating.  She had stepped out of line, but you took her punishment.  Do you remember this specific instance, Skain?”

     Mute, the boy looked down at his frayed, patched black jeans.

     Of course, he didn’t remember.

     The boy had covered for his sister ever since they had been abandoned in the orphanage.  From the moment he realized that their mother wasn’t returning for them, he took full responsibility for making sure that Brielle was safe, full, and warm, regardless of if that meant he was placed in danger, hunger, or cold.  His shins and calves bore the bruised testimony of his determination, but her happiness kept him driven.

     “I chose you because you were kind to those who did not deserve your kindness.  I have permission from the mayor of our county to train you for a specific purpose, Skain, but I will only keep you as long as you retain your kindness.  Do you understand my meaning?”

     The boy entwined his fingers with Brielle’s.

     Only she realized how much he was sweating, how badly he was trembling.

     Looking again at the driver, the boy set his expression and said, “I understand, sir.”

~ ~ ~

Write on and STAY PASSIONATE, FRIENDS!

Clove

Where The Broken Things Are - Shard #1

Hey all!

Here's another one of those pieces to my story that may or may not make it into the final cut.  I've just been feeling the feels recently and wanted to share while it's all fresh.  :P

~ ~ ~

     "I thought I could endure the pain because of you.  Just the thought of you and me, safe from their demands, made me so happy," I whisper, smearing blood on my arms as I hold myself, "You kept me driven.  The want to impress you, deliver you, satisfy you...you can't possibly understand how burning this feeling is against all that I was willing to sacrifice."

     "Skain, what are you talking about?" Silvia asks, her eyes wide and fearful, "I'm right here.  I've not left."

     "I loved you, but I could never have you to keep.  That was so clear from the beginning, Silvia," I murmur, reaching forward to touch her face but stopping short when I remember how defiled I am right now, "I'm not strong enough to keep you and Brielle safe, and, when I tried, I lost you both.  You know, I've always believed in acquiring all that I set my determination towards, but I...I can’t.  I can't win this time; that's why I must forget you."

     "No, she says firmly, "we can figure a way out of this, love.  Please have courage!"

     "I can't endure any more," I reply, my eyes unfocused on the crimson beads that swell from my lacerations, "Fate and my ambition are pulling me apart.  This is it.  After everything I underwent, I'm going to leave.  She doesn't care anymore about me either, does she?  I've hurt her far too much; I can't atone for this...not for Iris."

     “Skain."  Silvia's dark green irises burn with the same passion that made me first admire her, her stubborn will sparking with energy and a demand to survive.  "Stop talking about me like I'm not here!  I'm right in front of you.  From the start, I was always there for you when you needed me, and I'll be here until the bitter end.  Now stop saying those terrible things!"

     I shake my head softly and pull the knife out of her fingers - quickly, before I register the feel of her soft hands against mine.  "No, I'm going to take Brielle and escape, Silvia.  I'm sorry for everything, but this is the only way to ensure that you are all right.  I'll hurt you worse if I don't leave now."

     She folds her arms.  "And where exactly do you think you're going, huh?"

     I hold the knife in both hands and point the blade at my neck, suffocating in my grief.

     "Anywhere - away from you."

     As soon as I plunge the knife into myself, I surface into semi-consciousness.  I'm lying on my bed in my room the same way as hundreds and hundreds of nights before this one: moonlight streaming onto my monochrome sheets, hot sweat sticking on my skin…

…utterly alone.

~ ~ ~

Write on!

Clove

P.S. Interview #1 is tomorrow in the afternoon!  Prayers and well-wishes would be much appreciated!  :)

FREE BOOK!

GUYS, SUPER IMPORTANT NEWS.

There's this free book out for grabs that any author will love, but it's only available until tomorrow: January 22nd, 11:59 P.M.  Before you even finish reading my post, click this link and get "Book Launch Blueprint" by Tim Grahl, who's an expert book marketer.

Do you have your copy?
GO AND GET YOUR FREE BOOK BEFORE YOU FORGET.
Got it now?
Okay, good.  ;)

I haven't read the book yet myself, but, guys, free books, come on.  Also, Tim Grahl, if you didn't know, has worked with five New York Times Best Sellers, so he definitely knows his stuff.

Anyway, now that that's in order...
Just as a warning, don't expect to see me anytime soon...again.  :\  I'll soon be hearing about one out of two scholarships that require an interview, and I scored the other (which means, HALP, people and professional dress and talking about my uncool and terrifyingly blunt self in a competitive setting).  I'm also going to be working soon with Nao Media (which includes Sharpsburg Voice) on a research book project, and, lastly, DANG, MY SENIOR CLASSES ARE KICKING MY BACKSIDE.  (It's been eight months since I last wrote an essay for school, and I...am...rusty.)  Until the end of April when my classes are done, I suspect I shall madly be dashing towards glorious graduation with my self-harming ENTJ ambition, much to the neglect of this poor little internet corner and quite possibly my health/emotional wellbeing.

Bahaha, but what's life without some fun risks?

Stay chill, people, and, as always, write on!
Clove

Editing rant

Hey everyone!  Happy almost Friday!  ;)

So far, I've edited two news articles for Sharpsburg Voice.  Transitions, punctuation, and the occasional mis-spelled or absent word aside, they were quite manageable and interesting posts.  Today (and yesterday for a few hours), though, I've been working on this other article...and, man, it's been a long time since I've seen writing this...rough.

I know I've posted about most of these writing issues before, but I'm going to reiterate again for the sake of ranting against these problems, which are really common and really obnoxious for editors to edit.  Please brace yourself for the fury of my capitalization screaming and TAKE NOTES SO YOU DON'T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES GRRR.

STOP IT #1.) ENOUGH WITH "IT" AND "THERE".

In my last post about "it" and "there", I was discussing how "it" and "there" in the nominative case tend to automatically turn sentences passive.  While the passive voice is a pretty serious writing crime, I have come to learn of a new and more dreadful terror, which I am affectionately naming the "WHAT IS THIS WORD'S ANTECEDENT?".  When you jam a bunch of nouns into a sentence and then include multiple "it's" into the next sentence, no one is going to have a bloody idea of what "it" is referring to.

For example: "The cat, unlike the dog, was napping on the dried grass in the scorching sunlight.  It was important because it had been playing the day before as well."  In this case, the first "it" could refer to the detail of the cat's napping or the detail of the dog not napping.  The second "it" could also refer to either the dog or the cat, depending on what the author's intention is.

Now, I understand that this is an easy trap to fall into.  As an author, you tend to have everything figured out in your head, and so you write "it", knowing that "it" refers to the cat and not the dog.  But your readers don't.  Please please please read over your writing once or twice as if you were reading someone else's work (and not your own) to avoid this error.

STOP IT #2.) I GET WRITING TICKS TOO, BUT YOURS ARE MORE ANNOYING.

When I wrote my post about writing ticks, I sincerely thought that "suddenly" was the utter most aggravating word in the world.  I mean, let's not beat around the bush; writing ticks stink, guys.  Instead of using a new and interesting transition phrase every few sentences, you get stuck on one particular phrase or word that you put down repeatedly without realizing it.

In editing this article, though, I amend my anger for the phrase "in his case", which, when used three or four times in a three hundred and fifty word article, becomes probably the most twitch-worthy tick I will ever have seen in my seventeen years.  For the sake of the editors in the world, do our health and lifespans a favor and take the time to eliminate your writing ticks with new transition phrases.

STOP IT #3.) PRINT AND READ OUT-LOUD...I'M BEGGING YOU.

I am convinced - as in, I am choosing this hill to die upon - that any piece of writing that is printed and slowly read aloud will improve 90%.  Yes, I too make small and stupid mistakes on this site, but I'm really only writing here for fun, and the editing I do for my posts is minimal.  If you're turning in a school paper or, more importantly, publishing on an online news site, your work better be good.  Forgetting words and commas, mis-spelling words, boring sentence variation - these are simply unacceptable in a professional setting.

If you print out your writing to get an actual hard copy in your hands and then read your words aloud as you edit, your work will improve drastically.  Trust me on this one.

Okay.

I think that's all I want to rant about for now.

Depending on how many hours I spend on this article, I may come back with a part two, hehe.

Write on (AND FOLLOW MY TIPS OR I WILL SLAYYY YOUUU)!

Clove

Sharpsburg Voice

Hey guys!

Quick, super exciting update:

First of all, I applied for two universities and got into two universities   :D  Yayayayayyy!  I have one final, very short scholarship application to submit, and then I must be subjected to waiting...and waiting...and waiting.  Eventually, I may or may not be invited to terrifying interviews that may or may not get me many thousands of dollars.

Suddenly, I'm realizing how useful my childhood competitiveness has become.  ;)

Anyway, second of all, I also officially started working for The Sharpsburg Voice as an editor.  Eventually, I plan to start posting articles every so often there as well.  :)  If you want to read some fun, short clips about home advice, sports, business, places to visit south of Atlanta, or other super cool miscellany, you should definitely subscribe.  :D  The main contributor is a super cool woman, who has one of the most enjoyable and engaging journalist voices I've ever seen.

Well, that's a bit of life for me!  Keep expecting good story stuff in the future!

Write on!
Clove