From Flat to Round

Well, I'll say it again, Redpaw and Crestlen (the main characters from my current story) were pretty flat. And it took me a bit to see it. Before I continue, though, I should explain what I mean by flat. Flat characters are one-dimensional, they don't change or do anything besides the one thing they're meant to do. A storekeeper who the main characters buy stuff from several times would probably be a flat character. He has character, but it doesn't change, and you don't see a lot of it. Round characters, the opposite, are characters that have depth, and change. You see into their minds, how they react etc. And neither Redpaw or Crestlen were doing that for me.

So now, I'm doing everything in my power to fix it. Step 1 was coming up with I call "descriptory word runs." By which I mean, "A long string of unconnected which help define and describe the character and essence of a character". So I did that. Step 2, something I haven't done before, was to create a backstory. For many of my earlier writing attempts a backstory wasn't necessary, since I started off my characters quite young, in other words, they hadn't had much time to have a backstory. And what backstory they needed I created as I went along. For Freeborn and Freegiven I hadn't made backstories, but they came out anyways as I wrote (which I'm really glad happened). At one point I even made references to something bad happening in the past between two characters, but I personally had no idea what it was. Not until later did it actually come out. (See? Writers don't always know every last detail of what's going on! :P ) Anyways, for Feather and Fang, Redpaw and Crestlen kinda need backstories. For one, they're older than most other characters I've written, so much more has gone on before the story opens. And for another, they are very good at what they do. So there has to be an explanation of how they got that good.

As Ink flows...

A snippet of what I'm working on at the present, Feather and Fang. I won't explain anything, but hopefully the writing will speak for itself-

The morning had passed, and the sun was beginning its long westward trail when the jungle finally ended and red cliffs rose up sheer before them. But here a dark opening slashed across the otherwise unbroken rocky face. Between the edge of the jungle and the cliffs stretched a dusty plain at least a half-mile across, covered with bones. Redpaw drew quickly back into the shadow of the trees, sinking down into a crouch as he studied the forbidden sight before him.

It was as if life stopped on the line drawn by the shadow of the jungle. The ground beyond was cracked and dry, and littered with piles of bleached skeletons. A veritable graveyard lay before them, where countless had died and been left to the elements.

“Impossible at this distance to tell what they are,” Crestlen muttered.

Redpaw shook his head. “I doubt we could tell even if we were directly on top of them. Too many, and too jumbled.”

Crestlen shrugged, then squinted up at the tiny flecks of sun that made their way through the jungle canopy above them. “I don’t like it. Whatever caused this slaughter is probably waiting for us in there.”

Redpaw shook his head, frowning at the scattered skeletons. “No… the bodies are not pointed away from the entrance, as they would if something had come out of there and had caught them as they fled. No, if I am any judge, a battle was fought here, maybe several. See how the bodies lies scattered around, facing all different directions? And the number of detached skulls? Unless this monster you speak of carefully severed each head and then left the bodies alone without eating them…”

He turned back to look at Crestlen, a dry grin on his face. Crestlen snarled.

“Shall we risk it then?” the wolf-hunter asked.

Crestlen shrugged, then laughed. “We’ve beaten everything thrown at us so far! What could be more dangerous than the bladesfell?”

And so saying he adjusted his bound arm and ran boldly out from under the shadow of the jungle. Redpaw was right behind him, jogging along easily.

But even as they reached the first skeleton, Redpaw knew they had made a mistake. For above the shadow of the jungle rose dozens of smaller shadows, and a screaming that made his heart skip a beat.

Crestlen risked a look over his shoulder to see a horde of shapes coming after them, leaping from the trees like so many insects. But their pursuers were man-like, fur-covered, and gleaming with flanged armor. And unlike their previous enemies, these bore weapons, spears and clubs and blades beyond description.

Suddenly the yawning crack in the rock looked far less dangerous. Both hunters were sprinting now, no longer bothering to look back. Everything they had was put into getting to the safety of the cliff. The screaming was getting closer now, and their long shadows were reaching out for them like claws. Redpaw leaped to one side as a spear flew past his face, embedding in the ribcage of a skeleton a little further on.

A clammy hand grabbed at Crestlen’s bad shoulder, but a moment later its owner gave a bloodcurdling yell and let go, fingers bleeding from a lightning-quick strike by one of the hawk-assassin’s  many daggers.

When Characters start talking...

Well, yesterday I decided to hold a conference with a few of my main characters from across the years, ask them a few questions, and in turn let them ask me questions. Present were Redpaw, from Feather and Fang, Farjag, Freeborn and Freegiven, Rogart, Warrior in Grey, Timber, Where the Wolf Howls, Drelborn, The Disintegrator/When Darkness Falls, James Walker, Second Chance  and, last but certainly not least, my first ever character, Paul Cortez, from On Grace Alone. This is the transcript of that meeting:

Me: Well, I want to thank you all for coming today, this means a lot to me

Redpaw: *Snort*

Farjag: A honor, as always, sir *nods head in salute*

James: As say I

Paul: *sticking his makeshift boots on the table* Pshaw, I’m just glad to be here! I haven’t spoke with anyone for quite some time!

Rogart: And whose fault is that, Mr, Cortez?

Paul: *mumbles something about the scarcity of company on a caribbean island*

Me: Timber? You haven’t said anything.

Timber: Nothing needed to be said. *grins* They all said it already.

Redpaw: I didn’t say anything

Rogart: No, you snorted. Which counts.

Redpaw: You had better not start anything, young scamp, you’ve caused more trouble than the rest of us put together!

Rogart: That’s just cause my book’s longer than the rest of yorn put together!

Farjag: *cough* Your book, young sir, is only 29,000 words. Mine has 50,946, to be exact. 

Rogart: 29,800, tiger-claw! And Stephan’s spent two years at least on me, you only got one month!

Farjag: So? My book’s finished! Yours isn’t!

Timber: *cough* If we’re comparing books here, I have the shortest, and I’m doing just fine, so relax.

Paul: And if we’re comparing trouble caused, you guys are all saints. *grins* 

Me: All right, enough with the comparing, let’s begin, for starters… where’s Drelborn?

James: Oh, I forgot to mention, he said he’d be late. Busy filming his movie, he said.

Paul: Drelborn gets his own movie?!

James: Well his is the only story besides mine that could be filmed. And his got some serious cutbacks in the special effects department

Me: Yea, sorry about that, we couldn’t exactly have things blowing up or catching on fire

Paul: You could have done my story…

Redpaw: *snort* Yea, with all the wolf pups, and hawk, and monkey, and cougar…

Paul: Yea…. I’d forgot about those…

Me: Well, I guess we’ll start without Drelborn then. I’ll just ask two or three question, and you can each answer in turn, and then you all can have a turn asking me questions. First off, then, “What are some dislikes you all have about your stories?”

*silence* 

The pen to paper... again

I have noticed a fair amount of my fellow writers have tended to speak of their characters as they would a friend, and often wrote little snippets of dialogue between them and themselves, an idea I found fascinating. It also prompted the question, "Do my characters come to life like that?" Overall, I believe the answer is "Yes," but as I thought about it, I realized that my latest characters, two assassins sent to kill each other, were actually rather flat and undimensional. Part of the reason was because they were so similar; I had failed to create distinct personalities for them, instead classifying them together in the stereotypical "Blunt, cynical, hardened warrior" section. Looking again at the novel I wrote last November, which had five unique and well-developed characters written in the space of a month, and comparing them with these two, which I had spent considerably longer with, I realized my error. I had not lived with these characters like I had my four Freeborn and one Freegiven. Spending each night from nine to midnight with them, I had found out what them different from each other, what they liked and disliked, what made the tick, and what their weaknesses and strengths were. Redpaw and Crestlen hadn't had that luxury. So I spent the next hour or so jotting down their differences, revisiting my plotline to rediscover where I wanted to go with my story, and in general gaining a fresh perspective on my story.
About this time I decided I wanted to revisit an old story I had written, my second ever to be precise, and the one I had spent the most time with. The plot was non-existant, but the characters were real, again, because I had spent so much time with them. Their names were synonymous with writing to me, Rogart, Falkar, Dakar, Soltice, they were far more real to me than any other character I've read or written about. Unfortunately, due to the non-existance of the plot to go along with the characters, they have sat for some years, growing rather dusty with disuse. But the yesterday I decided to pull them out again, place them in a new world, give them a real and interesting storyline and re-establish their prominence as my first true characters. Their story, once The Warrior in Grey, will be renamed Silver and Sable and will be the novel I write during November (50,000+ words in 30 days!!)
So, for the month between now and then, I shall prepare in every way possible for that story, as well as continuing to flesh out Redpaw and Crestlen, and make them just as real as their predecessors.


And in the paragraphs above I have just proved both the point and worth of this blog: a notebook to jot down my thoughts as I think them, and a treasure chest to unlock in the future and read back through my trains of thought. May I continue the pattern henceforward.

In His Service,

Farjag, the scribbler

A year?

Hey, look at my last post! Yea, a year ago. Well, inspired by fellow writers, a resurge of writing (I've written a novel since I lasted posted), and a general longing to write for God, I've decided to kick this blog back into gear (hopefully). I shall continue to post snippets of what I'm writing at the current time, reflections on things around me, and maybe a running dialog with myself and you to keep track of where I've come from as a writer, and where I'm going. With that said, let's get this blog cranking!

And I'm back...

Well, I hope to be posting more here from now on, seeing as I have starting writing "full time" again. I hope to do some movie reviews soon as well, though that depends on when I see any new movies. Saw a few at the end of summer, and a ton in Panama (all in Spanish), but it's been a bit, and I don't think I could do any of them full credit. Which of course, reminds me that I haven't posted anything about going to Panama, so those will be up soon, along with pictures! I think I'll set myself a schedule, say once or twice a week, for 'posting time,' a time set aside blogging (That's assuming my homework load doesn't take a sudden spike).

In His Service, \|/