Characters and Magnitudes
Original Publication 18/03/21
I revel and I dance because that long-awaited day is finally here! Yesterday I had the unbridled relief of finishing my debut novel, really a major milestone in the career of a writer. Although this accomplishment can be only be considered, at present, a first thorough draft, it's perhaps my biggest accomplishment to date on my own personal creative journey.
Feral Roots is an adventure drama set in North America. It tells the story of James, a man with a haunting past living a life of seclusion in an isolated cabin in the mountain wilderness. His careful and methodical existence is one day disrupted by the presence of a young girl he finds unconscious in the forest, a girl with a tragic past story of her own.
It's taken an extraordinary amount of dedication, time and self-belief to see its creation through and although it's a shame I cannot celebrate with my partner and a frosty pint at the local watering hole, it's a monumental feeling nonetheless. While I would gladly waffle on about the intense gratification I feel at this moment in time, this week's blog is really here to explore the emotional kinship we form with fictional characters, whether on the page or on the screen.
From an audience perspective, we relate to characters and their individual stories because forming that sense of perspective allows us to envision their world through their eyes. Whether through disapproval or the act of sympathy, we identify with their actions based on the emotional response we form. The very best characters are that way because they are, so very often, flawed and deeply human.
Characters such as Don Draper of Mad Men (Matthew Weiner 2007) and Tony Soprano of The Sopranos (David Chase 1999) are so delightfully intriguing not only because of their screen presence but because of the complex nature of their characters. Their characteristics are so readily identifiable simply because of their intensely human nature. Characters like Winston Smith of 1984 (George Orwell 1949) were created as an "everyman" to derive exactly this response from the book's reader.
Whether in the confines of my novel or in the pages of a fresh script, I myself endeavour to write characters that are fundamentally real because that's what makes the most sense to me. My sense of perspective comes from human experience and human interaction, while my self admitted style of writing calls for an obligation of vulnerability because it allows for better access to the emotional context at play.
From my perspective, it creates a deeply personal bond with those characters, one that I can only hope transcends to my readers and culminates in the telling of a feasible and engaging narrative.
Because having spent a considerable amount of time with the characters I've worked to bring to life over the best part of two years, I'm not so willing to say goodbye so easily. But how else would you treat a concept or a creation that you've dropped portions of yourself into? I'm having to remind myself that all good things must come to end, and this is simply the end of one journey but the beginning of another.
For more information on my debut novel curious reader, contact me personally via email or head to my website.