When Characters Misbehave

I’m not talking about when characters behave badly. That’s actually a good thing because it creates tension and moves the story along. I’m talking about characters and how they don’t always behave the way the writer expects or wants. This happens a lot in my writing, and it’s part of the fun—like putting two bugs in a jar, shake, and see what happens. I love allowing my characters the freedom to interact and behave in a natural, organic kind of way, but when I’m 95% done with the first draft—this is no time for characters to exert their free will! This is what has happened in Portrait of a Girl Adrift.

No matter how I tried to cajole them, they would not do or say what I expected. One in particular revealed more depth than I gave him credit for, which is kind of cool. And then another character brought up an issue I had failed to address. Which equals more words. Not a huge deal—I do want my characters to act ‘in character,’ but with the added scenes—I’ve already exceeded 100k words in the first draft (much of which is bare bones dialogue and so it’s not as if I can cut a lot of fluff, there simply isn’t any!) —I’m looking at one thick book!

Granted, 100+k words is not a tome, so I’m not panicking, after all, my other novels come in somewhere in the 90+k words. I’m now in the process of justifying the added wordage on account of Adrift being the final volume in the Portraits trilogy. Therefore, it seems to me that readers who have followed the story thus far would like the major loose ends all tied up and won’t mind reading an extra chapter or two that will, in essence, allow my reader to say goodbye to the characters with a less abrupt ending. That’s what I’m thinking anyway. I wonder how my blog readers--those who’ve read a series—how they feel about the last book and the way the author chose to wind things down. Any thoughts?

What the Heck Does It Mean to Be Whole?

We hear that expression a lot. I can’t count how many of those feel-good quotes I’ve seen on Pinterest, Facebook, Twitter, and elsewhere that have to do with ‘being who you are,’ ‘claiming your identity,’ and the blessed state of ‘being a whole person.’ These ideas usually revolve around one’s readiness to enter and maintain healthy relationships, or embracing the concept of going it alone.

I think the concept got a foothold in the sixties and seventies with self-help books like I’m Okay, You’re Okay*, and How to Be Your Own Best Friend**. There were others, of course, but those are two that I distinctly recall as a youngster—my mother even provided us with a copy of the latter during adolescence. I wish I had actually understood and applied what I'd read. Nevertheless, as a culture, we’ve been talking about ‘Being Whole’ for decades. 

The reason I’m now contemplating the issue is that when I boiled down the theme of the story I’m working on, the third in my Portraits series, this question—What does it mean to be whole?—keeps coming up.

For anyone who has read Portrait of a Girl Running and Portrait of a Protégé, you know I’ve put my protagonist, Leila, through the mill. Although she has had independence foisted upon her, she is living what appears to be a fulfilling life in a safe and nurturing environment with people who care about her, and with opportunities for personal and artistic growth. Of course, I can’t leave well enough alone. No, I don’t think I’m going to kill anyone off (at least not unless I have to, ha!), but let’s face it—Leila has a lot of unresolved issues about her upbringing, and especially about her mother. She’s been on an emotionally intense roller-coaster ride, but, just because her life seems to have finally leveled out, that does not mean she can side skirt those issues which have left her broken and with pieces missing. Yes, she’s having to confront the question: What the heck does it even mean to be whole?

I Googled the question, and aside from coming up with a lot of religious answers—valid as some may be, I’m not focusing on that route—there are so many opinions, a psychological and spiritual free-for-all! I have my own opinion, but I’m still shaping it. And I am very curious how other thoughtful people define it. Please feel free to leave a comment or send me an e-mail (bridget at jbchicoine dot com) if you’d like to share!

*by Thomas Anthony Harris  **by Bernard Berkowitz, Jean Owen, and Mildred Newman

Cats vs Chickens

Who hasn’t heard of the expression Cat Lady, and usually in conjunction with crazy? Maybe you personally know a Crazy Cat Lady. The fact of the matter is, especially with all the cute kitty pictures popping up all over the place on the internet, Cat Lady has become so cliché. The concept of accumulating—or hording—pets, though, is still quirky, to say the least and makes for an interesting character embellishment.

In Blind Stitches, one of the characters—Aunt Anita—is a hoarder and a collector of not only things but pets, originally cats. Then I got talking with a friend, and in conversation about his upbringing on a farm, he divulged something so odd and amusing I just knew I needed to include it in a story. Chickens. They raised chickens and also had a few as pets—yes, chickens make fine pets and they can even be house-trained, although my friend and his 5 brothers never brought them in the house. What I found so amusing, in a twisted sort of way, was that when the chickens died—the pet chickens, not the ones destined for the pot after they no longer laid eggs—they ‘planted’ the chicken in the ‘chicken cemetery’ with their feet sticking up out of the ground like branches reaching for the sky. I have to say, I was at first stunned and then couldn’t stop laughing at the visual it conjured. And they would tag the feet, hanging little signs on the talons with the chicken’s name. Perfect!

Personally, I’ve never come across a Chicken Lady—I’m sure there are a few out there, but that designation is by no means cliché! And what’s even better is that chickens fit perfectly into the Blind Stitches storyline and help define not only the oddball Aunt, but the enigmatic young Romeo who has Asperger’s, and yes, he even knows how to house-train chicks! The free range chickens also emphasizes the stigma that poor Juliet has been trying to shed since she was a child, given that the three live on the fringes of an elite little New England town.

Oh, and I have one more bit of news—my husband, Todd, is currently working on an oil painting of a ballerina dress for my cover, in a style along the lines of which Nikolai would paint--sort of Impressionistic. The cover concept remains the same as I last posted, but it will provide a better nuance for the genre, which will likely fall into the Romantic Suspense. Or, hmm … maybe Dark Humor—is that a genre? or Quirky Psychological. Hmm ....

An Uncharted Break

In the middle of all this pre-release date stuff for Uncharted: Story for a Shipwright, I thought it would be nice to take a little break and talk about the story I’m working on—the one I mentioned a while back. The coming of age story set primarily in 1969. It started out as SPILLED COFFEE, changed to WHISPERING NARROWS, but now I think I’m back at  SPILLED COFFEE.  WHISPERING NARROWS  seems too romancey and sounds too much like a mystery (yes there is some romance and a bit of mystery, but it’s more literary fiction with a commercial bent, like Uncharted).

The first draft is complete at 80k words and now it’s revision time. My trusted beta readers have provided helpful feedback and now I need to address the problems with the story. It’s always a challenge to know what to alter and what suggestions to veto, but when certain issues gain a consensus, there’s probably something to it. So, for the past few months, it has been sitting in the corner like a problem child—a source of vexation. I think the biggest fault with this novel is that I simply didn’t know the main character, Benjamin Hughes, well enough. I knew him quite well as an adolescent—his early teen summer of 1969 is the primary part of the story. But I hadn’t developed enough of his adult life to flesh him out as a thirty-five-ish year old character my reader can relate to in the early 1990s, when the story opens and to where it returns at the beginning of each chapter. (The switching back and forth is a trick in itself!)

So, I’ve been taking long walks lately, bringing Benjamin along. I asked him, “So what exactly did happen to you and your sister between 1970 and 1992?”

And guess what! He’s been very cooperative! In fact, he introduced me to a new character, Christopher, and cleared up some details on other players in the story. The challenge will be writing Christopher in a realistic and sympathetic way. He’s a complicated character whose idiosyncrasies will require a ton of research. I will need to handle him delicately.

Since this story is written in a male, first person POV (as is Uncharted) and deals a lot with family dysfunction (like Uncharted) it seems that it would be a good follow-up novel to publish after Uncharted, as opposed to my GIRL RUNNING novels, which have a very different feel.

A while back, I even came up with a cover idea—it may be a bit busy and I might have to scratch it, but it at least provides a pretty picture for this post! I'm also hoping that the title brings to mind the old saying,  “No use crying over .... ”  

Another Version of Marlena

by Pascal Gentil

And here's the painting* by Pascal Gentil, that inspired my Marlena (the painting, not the character--she's all mine!) See how sneaky I am, not placing them side-by-side in the same post!


I believe this is an oil on some sort of plaster or rough canvas*. Gentil's other work is pretty amazing, but there's not a lot about him online, just an obscure Website. Beautiful and sensual work!*


This Marlena has a little more chin than I wanted, and although her hair looks a bit matted, that actually fits into the story. Todd voted for prettier hair, so I conceded on that!


*if naked bodies offend you, don't click on the link!


* Edited to say that I just found Pascal Gentil's Photography Website only to discover his "painting" is in fact a digitally enhanced photograph, which takes a great deal of talent and in no way diminishes my esteem of his work. Oh my, how I'd love to paint many of his subjects! And in a way, it makes me feel all the better about my work.

Marlena

I’ve been staring at a lot of UNCHARTED lately, which I’m pre-editing before Rhemalda’s editor gets a hold of it (I can’t believe how may times I wrote ‘he knew’ or ‘he thought’ or ‘he watched’—Egad, you’d think I never read a writing blog in my life!)


Not only have I been focusing endlessly on my MS Word doc, but to keep me motivated, I have an amazing painting* of what UNCHARTED's Marlena looks like, by Pascal Gentil. His version is perfect, really, but the more I stared, the more I wished I had a painting of my own—and I haven’t painted in a long time, so I decided to give it a go and produce my own rendition of Gentil’s painting*. I’m posting the process over on my art blog—Unsupervised & atLarge. I actually finished it, so I’m posting my completed watercolor here. Next week I’ll post Gentil’s painting*. I like this one very much, but when I compare it to his, I still kinda like his better. Maybe mine will grow on me…


* Edited to say that I just found Pascal Gentil's Website only to discover his "painting" is in fact a digitally enhanced photograph, which takes a great deal of talent and in no way diminishes my esteem of his work. Oh my, how I'd love to paint many of his subjects! And in a way, it makes me feel all the better about my work.

Character Intrusion!

One of the ‘benefits’ of being a pantser—as opposed to an outliner who knows most of the story up front—is that I never know when a character will alter my novel. This happened in Portrait of a Girl Running. I needed a marginal character as a catalyst for added tension; just a supporting player, mind you. His name is Mr. Myles. An unexpected thing happened though. When I set him in a scene with my protagonist, they had this amazing chemistry I hadn’t counted on. They could not be in the same scene together without them carving out an emotional wake. In fact, Myles became not only a major character in the novel (and the sequel) but he also refined the overall theme.

It happened again in Portrait of a Protégé. On a whim, a character named Marvelle* enters the story—and bam! she takes over!

I’ve been evaluating what these two intruding characters have in common.

Each one:

• has a dynamic personality
• engages with the protagonist in a battle of wills
• ultimately has the protagonist’s best interest at heart
• is considerably older than the protagonist
• is based—at least partially—on a real person I have known.

I wonder how much this last factor contributes to their strength—that is, to my ability to truly bring them to life in such a profound way.

I’m curious—whether you’re a pantser or an outliner—Do you have characters that enter your story in an unexpected way? Do they refine, or even redefine your theme? Are any of your characters based on someone you have personally known?

*aka, my inner critic

Personality Typology

Psychology fascinates me. It seems to be a common interest amongst writers. I know quite a few of us who even subject our characters to the Jung/Myers Typology Test to get a better handle on who they are as individuals and to keep their behavior in line with their personality type. I have taken the test quite a few times over the years, and even back-to-back, changing answers to questions I could go either way on. I consistently come up as an INFJ, (Invroverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging) with varying percentages. My main characters almost always end up being INFJ’s or INTJ’s. I wonder if it’s just me or do other writers tend to write their main character’s personality very similar to their own?

As a side note, one of the traits of an INFJ is the need for quiet time after intense social interactions. I think this manifests itself in the way that I tend to burn out easily. I can’t seem to help getting over-stimulated in social situations and then feel the need to withdraw, which is sort of what I’m going through right now. For sure, this trait applies to my ‘real’ life, but I am finding that it applies just as much to blogging. I wonder how many other INFJ’s go through these spells…

Back to Where I Started?

Well, I’ve been busy putting together something for Notes From Underground, way ahead of time, which is a little unlike me. Actually, I’m not certain that it’s like or unlike me, seeing as I’ve never had to work under a writing deadline. I suppose that if I had to come up with something from scratch, it might feel entirely different.

At any rate, I’ve written a short story based upon a scene from an earlier unpublished novel of mine—that is, from a sequel to my second novel.* When I wrote Girl Running, and then, Portrait of a Protégé, I had absolutely no idea about writing rules and publishing. I only had a high school-level grasp of English—and the benefit of parents who had a fair handle on English grammar. That’s it. I couldn’t even claim to be an avid reader** Oh, and I had a huge imagination!

After several years of mulling over a particular scenario, and coming up with character backstory, I decided to wing it and simply get the story out of my head and into MS Word. I wrote it for my husband and I had a blast doing it! Impressing Todd was my only desire. I even printed and bound it for him—all 150,703 words!*** He’s the one who planted the idea of publishing, so I will blame all my angst, henceforth, on him.

It wasn’t until I began writing Story for a Shipwright that I investigated what the industry considers ‘good writing.’ I jumped through all the hoops. I read the agents' blogs, got beta readers and revised and revised and revised. I like the story—no, I love the story—I think it is sound and I will publish one way or the other. But I wonder if, in all the advice and critiques and revisions, I have somehow homogenized it...like chrome polished down to pot-metal.

So, here I am, between stories, and it’s my first love that still nags me. Rewriting just one scene, utilizing what I've learned, and then writing it with the liberty of doing it how I want has made me seriously reconsider Leila, a girl raised by a couple of mixed up guys—one black, one white—who just wanted to be Blues musicians and had no business raising a child on the road. I think her story as an adolescent on her own, breaking into womanhood, may be worth a complete rewrite—at least it’s a notion I’m toying with…

* I hesitate to claim my very first completed novel of 23 years ago—Relative Survival—but it qualifies in length.

** Yes, I know that’s blasphemy, but if I started reading anything, I did not have the self-discipline to put it down until it was done, and that can really mess up one's life--especially when one has a family. Borderline OCD?
*** the sequel came in at only 123,753 words

That’s Right, I’m Stalling…

I know I should be brushing up on my query and synopsis (and I have been), but as anyone who’s ever written one knows, they kill brain cells.

Consequently, I have given myself a short reprieve, just to remind myself that life does not—does not—revolve around writing, (and more to the point, getting published). I’ve been—yes, it’s true—painting.

I resurrected this unfinished portrait, and if I’m playing my shame card right, I should make pretty good progress on it, seeing as I’m posting my process incrementally.

Actually, one could draw some nice analogies between developing a character and painting a portrait…it’s all in the layering.

'Lady Writer' at The Bilge PUB

While studiously researching at The Bilge, I recently received a 'private message' from one of the ‘Senior Members’. Now, I’m used to the bloggy way of doing things, and wasn’t sure what to do about the ‘private’ message. Who was this stranger? I had not seen his avatar on the only place I ever posted—the Question for a work of fiction thread that I started.

The message said: “For some really good stuff come to the pub. ”

Very mysterious…I mean, how would you take that?

Well, I wasn’t quite sure how to take it. What exactly is ‘The PUB?’ I wondered. Sure, I was curious as all get out, but what exactly would I be getting myself into? I was just too chicken to respond.

A day or so later, I received another ‘private message,’ this time from an avatar I recognized, Mrleft8 (he knows a lot of boat stuff). He said that over at the pub, there was ‘a little bit that might be of interest to me in describing a dive bar.’ He was also kind enough to provide directions. It is located on the seedier side of town—it is The Bilge, after all—so I was still hesitant, which, as most of you know, is much a part of my nature.

Undeterred, I grabbed my paper and pad, smoothed my skirt against my trembling schoolgirl legs, sucked in some courage, and stepped through the door. Surprisingly, it was not as seedy as I expected.

Instead, the aroma of Welsh rarebit and a tasty vegetable soup, chock full of tender bits of assorted roots, stems, leaves, and fruits rushed my olfactory senses. I could smell boneless ribeye steak, grilling to perfection over charcoal, to be served with hand cut fries, and a Waldorf salad. The special on tap was Molson Brador. Honestly, just standing there I put on ten pounds!
The crew at the Pub—including Bobby, who first offered the invite—have built a virtual pub experience...and with only words! Imagine that!

When Bobby asked, “Ok, water, wine, beer what’s your drink? Welcome to the pub,” I was still a little nervous.

Hoping no one else would hear, I said, “Okay, please don’t' mock and ridicule—I drink the cheapest and lightest beer I can find. But I'm open to trying pretty much anything.”

Well, before I could flip my writing tablet open, he placed a frosty beer in front of me with a wink. Some of the locals sat at the bar beside me and started making small talk, asking me where I was from. They were a very congenial lot, and I recognized quite a few of them. We continued to chat for a bit as I drank my light beer, but mostly I just listened.

Then I told them, “I'm just going to sit quietly over here at the table in the corner. You just pretend I'm not here and talk about all sorts of boatsie things.”

I guess I didn’t make too bad of an impression, (although they speculated that I was a green apple martini, or cosmopolitan kinda gal, which I'm not).

They even posted the link to this Dire Straits, YouTube video for me, in spite of the fact that they did not get a special mention on my blog post about Researching at The Bilge.


Incidentally, the PUB boasts the most frequently visited and commented on thread over at The Bilge forum, and I consider it a privilege to hang out for a few minutes here and there.

I wonder, when doing research for your writing, have you ever had to go somewhere that made you a little nervous?

Group Therapy Gone Wrong

Okay, I’m cheating here…I just posted this as a comment on Lazy Writer’s Blog, but this scenario has been jarring me for a while. I’m sure I can’t be the only writer with characters that gang up on them—like in a group therapy session out of control…

You know, like, Leila says, “It’s all about me!”
Kyle rebuts, “Hey, girl, you’re not the only one with a dysfunctional family.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ian interrupts, “Quit being whiny brats, you don’t know conflict till you’re a 27-year-old-coach in love with a student.”
“What’s the big deal,” old Artie interjects, “at least you’re not getting killed off in a month…”
“Would you all just shut up and wait your turn,” Myles shouts, “she’ll get around to resolving all your piddley issues if you just give her a little peace and quiet!”
“Thank you,” I say to Mr. Myles. I know I’m supposed to be the one in control, but ever since he showed up, I seem to have no voice of my own.

I love Mr. Myles…