Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Bonding with Your Story's Characters 5 - Revealing questions

In many cases, if you want to know about someone, you ask them questions and listen to their answers. Most people interview each other when they first meet. They get the basics, like names and professions. They may spur conversation with a compliment (love that necklace) or by mentioning an observation (sports/university logos on clothing, an accent).

And, if you have tuned your perceptions, you pay attention to the tone of the replies, the facial expressions, the hesitations, and the body language. You also take into account the context -- when and where you are asking and who else is around.

Interviewing characters is also a good way to get to know them. You can ask standard questions, and I've offered some "tell me about" interview prompts in a previous post. I'll add to that list here, but first I'd like to tie things up for the Bonding With Your Story's Characters series.

Throughout, I've said to know characters is to connect with them. In real life, you know people by what they do and say (and what they don't do and say). That means listening, watching, questioning, researching (through others and through artifacts, including online files), working with them and asking them questions.

If your subjects are actual living people, you probably can do all of these (with some exceptions for inaccessible celebrities). If your models are deceased, you can only research them.

If your characters are based on real people, they can be fictionalized, which may open up everything. It isn't unusual for me to end up listening to and observing my characters (whether I like it or not), and I understand this is common for a lot of fiction writers, once they get some understanding of their subjects. Working with characters was covered briefly in previous posts in this series. That takes an active suspension of disbelief and a developed and disciplined imagination.

If your characters are not based on real people, you can't research them directly, but you can dig into the lives of real people to get answers and examples. And then it is up to you to integrate them into the whole character in a credible way.

One thing I haven't mentioned yet is what the characters are thinking and what they are aware of. With real people, we may make assumptions about these, but we never really know what's going on in their minds. With fictional characters, the potential for absolute answers is there, and it is one of the joys of fiction to get perspectives that we can't access in real life.

Since I wrote the "tell me about" post two years ago, I've come up with some additional questions I value. Pick out a character, sit down with her in a coffee shop, and see if any of these questions get you anywhere:

What do you, character, need/want?
What is your biggest flaw (on the Seven Deadly Sins level)? When have you demonstrated it?
Why are you appealing? When have you demonstrated this?
Even if you don't know your family, what is your family role in the story? (This is especially valuable to find out when putting together characters for a series.)
What characterizes your connections (relationships) with others? (Collaborating? Provoking? Dominating? Helping? Organizing? Listening? Persuading?)
How powerful are you and how do you acquire and maintain power?
What characterizes your conflicts with others? (Or do you avoid conflict?)
What pushes you to the limit or triggers out-of-control or anti-social behavior? Have you experienced important traumas? Do you have acute sensitivities?
Tell me about your deepest secret(s).
What do you need to find out in the story?
What do you need to learn in the story?
Why are you distinctive?
    •    Style
    •    Skills
    •    Defects/flaws
    •    Perspectives
    •    History
    •    Magic (even if this is not fantasy or paranormal)
Why are you surprising?
What obligations do you think you have? What obligations do you actually have?
What is your work (and what are your attitudes toward work)?
What is your code of honor and what do you value? 

That's the set of questions I'm using now to explore my characters. Sometimes, I fill out what I think the answers will be before I imagine meeting with the character. What I've discovered is they often will surprise me by what they know, what they don't know, and what I got wrong.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Bonding with Your Story's Characters 4 - Sidekicks, best friends, and minions

A special word this time for the best friends, minions, and spear carriers who fill out your casts or populate the imaginary spaces of your novels. These are the valued ones who are held for ransom… or callously disposed of by villains.

Why should you worry, as a writer, about connecting with your secondary characters?

It all comes down to creating the best experiences for readers and audiences. While it is a mistake to have a secondary character who overshadow your protagonist (and probably your antagonist), if you don't know them well enough to allow them to credibly play their roles, your story will be diminished.

A wise old man or crone can point out the path the hero or heroine must take. The confidant becomes the proxy for readers anxious to know what's on the protagonist's mind. The princess must be saved. The sidekick must carry the message. The femme fatale must lure the main character into danger.

Secondary characters can turn the story. They can intensify the stakes. It is usually not the main characters, but they who state the theme . Secondary characters illustrate the existence of a larger world. They also help the writer, through techniques like comic relief, to manage the emotional pacing of the story.

As I did with protagonists and villains, I will go through each of the nine dimensions with the secondary characters, but not with all of them. That could be a series of articles in and of itself. I’ll just sample the list as I need to so I can make my points. The rest will be left to you.

So here's the list:

Investment – If you get too involved with your secondary characters, you'll burn a lot of writing time. That's your choice, but the danger is you’ll become too attached. It's easy to unintentionally shift the spotlight away from your main characters if you fill a notebook with interviews and observations on the heroine’s best friend.

You should, however, invest enough so your secondary character is slightly more vivid in your mind that might be appropriate. Everything in a story is seen “as through a glass darkly,” so a little exaggeration is warranted. But, when the waiter delivering a glass of water to your hero explodes off the page, it distorts your plot and sets up inappropriate reader expectations.

One big exception here is what you write in a series. If your next book will focus in on this secondary character – a very popular approach for sequels of romance novels — getting the reader interested is part of marketing your next book.

Communication – I like to explore secondary characters within the contexts of their roles — both their official tasks and their relationships with protagonists and antagonists. This means I often do very limited interviews with these characters. I explore how they themselves feel and think about these two roles.

Commonality – Here, I'm mostly interested in giving myself touch points. To avoid too closely identifying with these characters, that often means grabbing aspects of people I know casually. People I meet once or know through others work best because, in these cases, I will have noticed something that clicks with me, but I don't have the full picture. Roger Zelazny created a secondary character in one of the Amber books who was clearly himself. What resulted was an amusing and memorable scene, but it pulled me out of the story. So be careful about taking a star turn yourself.

Concern — For children in jeopardy, damsels in distress, and other characters who motivate the acceptance of difficult missions, character change, and sacrifice on the part of your protagonists, it is essential that you, as a writer, have as much concern for them as your main characters do. Too often, I find in movies and television shows that the "prizes" who motivate heroes and heroines didn't seem worth it. For me, it makes all the anxiety and action come off as over-the-top and foolish.

Tolerance – What I love about secondary characters is that the more fleeting they are, the more obnoxious and ridiculous they can be. Annoyance is a powerful spice, especially when readers can put down books and viewers can change the channel or pop out the DVD. But in small amounts, especially in longer works, they can create zesty moments.

Reliability – The traits of a secondary character are limited. Be very careful about making them variable. Still, it can be done. For instance, it's very effective to have a minor rival congratulate the main character once the objective is achieved. It helps to underline and amplify the success by showing that even an enemy recognizes the victory. But generally we depend upon secondary characters to provide, sounding boards, unchanging perspectives that respond in understandable ways to the actions, ideas, and comments of main characters.

Surprise/Mystery – See reliability above, with one additional idea: It is wonderful for your plot to be complicated, for obstacles to be made tougher, and for stakes to be raised because a friendly secondary character makes a mistake. Usually, though they may be helpful within their roles, they should not surprise the hero with something that makes life easier.

Mutual dependence – Yes, minions are disposable. But, you as a writer, should feel a little pain when they make their final departures. And it's even more true with characters who fill larger roles, but don't rise to the level of main characters. In every case, a secondary character should be there for a reason, and, as their creator, you can't be uncommitted. Be present, at least a little bit, even for the poor spear carriers.

Shared work/risk – While you can't let them take over, it can be good to give your secondary characters some latitude. Trust them (even if they are minions or femme fatales).

One more thing to think about. Casting is one of the most important factors in the success of a movie or television show. An important point of advice for scriptwriters, therefore, is to make sure that the roles that will make or break the production are written so that good actors will want to play the parts.

When you think about this in terms of either script or a novel, it means you as a writer are required to think beyond the plot value of most of your characters. No one wants to play device. Or read about a character who only serves a function. So don't shortchange your secondary characters because you're afraid they'll steal the show (or you don't think it's worth the bother).

Keep it interesting. Keep it fresh. Create stories that are bigger than the page or the screen.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Bonding with Your Story's Characters 3 - Shake hands with the devil

Building a good connection with your story's antagonist is tricky. Ignoring the humanity of a villain can result in creating a two-dimensional melodrama character or monster. But having too much empathy can make the villain's plans and attacks too moderate and cheat readers of all that the premise promises.

There is also the temptation to redeem the character, no matter how bad. In principle, some redemption at the end can work well. But in practice, it can fail miserably if the atonement isn't justified and earned by what happens in the story. Note: the character changing his or her mind does not count. There needs to be action.

Okay, with that warning in place, let's explore the villain using the dimensions I used for a hero in last week's post:

Investing in the antagonist by spending time with him or her can be disturbing. I remember how unsettling it was once for me when I realized a friend who came along with me on a grocery shopping trip was eating her way through the aisles and slipping items under her shirt. I get the same sort of unsettling feeling when I imagine myself doing normal activities with one of my story's villains. Who wants to go to the library with someone you randomly tears pages out of books? Or be a passenger in a car where the driver is texting?

Of course, many villains will act normally, even nobly, as they accompany you on typical, daily activities, but it's best if some of these provoke bad behaviors.

On communication, my questions tend to be not much different from what I ask other characters. However, I will try and slip in some bits that are likely to provide openings for bragging or which, with most characters, would lead to apologies. (In fact, sometimes I explicitly ask villains to say they're sorry – with interesting results.)

On concern, you may have are guest that I sometimes have problems with the villain's redemption. But I think it's reasonable to include, at a minimum, worry about whether even the worst of antagonists faces damnation. This means taking the time to truly imagine what damnation might mean for him work for her. Having that in your head will provide a valuable touch point as you seek to humanize your villain. I also like to figure out what sort of scenario might lead to self-destruction.

I don't think there's a good excuse for tolerating the worst behaviors of a villain. It's possible and valuable to understand why they do evil things, but if part of you doesn't prefer a very different choice, conflict can get muddied. (And if you think all actions are equally moral, I'm not sure I want to spend much time with you.)

I find, for myself, toleration of villains is more in the area of their tics and mannerisms, which often are irritating. It doesn't hurt at all to have an antagonist whose hypocrisy or bad manners or slovenly behavior bugs you. False charm is a pet peeve of mine, and I tend to include it in villains. Part of their job, after all, is to be irritating (in many, but not all cases). So, toleration here means hanging around with characters who bother you. And that's part of your job.

Reliability, for a villain, should mean that you can count on them to do anything to achieve the goal (often, just stopping the hero). Going deeper, means establishing the core behaviors that define who this villain is and why he or she does what they do. And, working from the outside in, I always try and see if there are any consistent triggers that can be included to provoke over-the-top and unavoidable reactions.

The villain's main job is to go further than is reasonable. This automatically means that surprises are part of what an antagonist brings to a story. With the best villains, I'm always asking, who does these things? Or, under the best of circumstances, how did he or she even think of doing that? I think mystery is less important for a villain unless you're working on a series. (With any kind of a continuing effort, it's even possible to hide the identity of the chief antagonist through the use of minions.)

You depend upon the villain to make things rough for the hero, and the villain depends upon you to allow that. I've been told that much comedy is driven by anger and contempt. And murder mysteries often begin with the desire by the writer to knock off an enemy. If you can summon such feelings within yourself, you'll have a simpler time letting your villains be as bad as they can be. If that's not easy for you, it might be useful to focus on what you owe this child of your imagination. The villain you created should be allowed to be everything you meant him or her to be. Try to be helpful. If you can't, then at least get out of the villain's way.

In my experience, most writers don't want to be identified with their villains. As a matter fact, they don't want to be identified with any embarrassing or nasty behaviors in their works. Inevitably, this happens. It's a risk you need to accept. In fact, it's very common for readers to ask writers if they had the same experiences, did the same things, and felt the same ways as specific characters, including villains. They also asked if they really are one of the characters in their stories.

Some writers go to great lengths to deny any real-world connections with characters, opinions, and events in their stories. It's fiction! Don't you get that?

But there is some commonality with all characters, and you can't stop people from jumping to conclusions on what is shared. The best reaction I've seen to this truth is a woman who writes a lot about sex and, even though I presume it's not true, constantly startles her readers with the answer, yes, I did do that. In fact, I've done everything you've read about in my books. Good for her. I suspect her readers know as much about the truth as the readers of those whose favorite authors constantly deny connections, but she definitely has a lot more fun.

So go to the dark side (in your imagination) with the bad guys in your stories. People assume he did anyway.

Overall, I think villains are more fun to connect with then heroes. In the next post, I'll explore the space in between, secondary characters.

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Bonding with Your Story's Characters 2 - Probing your hero until it hurts

Connecting with your characters can deepen your stories and keep you writing. Last time, I posted nine dimensions to consider, and here we'll go into the details with the protagonist in mind.

The biggest problem with building a connection with your protagonist is really getting to know him or her. Often, the protagonist has a lot in common with the writer, but even well-developed and individuated heroes and heroines are likely to feel familiar. After all, the writer wants readers to identify with protagonists, so sympathy as well as empathy is probably existed before the opening lines with written. And the protagonist gets a pass on probing analysis.

Often, it gets worse. The identification is so strong that the kind of test (good writers torture characters) that might reveal characters are avoided or mitigated.

Familiarity and identification mean that writers need to be deliberate and determined before they can truly know protagonists well enough to bond with them. Nick Lowe got it right (for stories, not friendships): "You've gotta be cruel to be kind."  So prepare to go through hell with your protagonist.
  • Investment - I recommend taking a visual approach to this. Consider a series of still photographs or a silent movie of your protagonist doing something (preferably physical) with a beginning, middle, and end. If you can imagine yourself participating, even better. So perhaps, you'll arm wrestle with your hero or cut in at a dance with your heroine. Then push this, by making the action unpleasant. A trip to the dentist would work. Or terrifying -- getting mugged. Three of these shared experiences will tell you a lot about your main character.
  • Communication - Now they can open their mouths. Warm your protagonist up. Get his or her confidence. Then say, "Tell me about your most embarrassing moment." Whatever they respond, follow up with a probing question. Make it open-ended, so they can't get away with a simple yes or no.
  • Commonality - This one is probably easy with the protagonist, and that's fine. You both went to the same college? Are baseball fans? Good. But see if you also share less admirable experiences in your own life (getting arrested? bullying a sibling?). Or list out your guilty pleasures and see if these appeal to your protagonist, too.
  • Concern - Yes. You already care about your character. Note that. Then imagine the worst thing that might happen to him or her (either in or beyond the current story) and spend some time worrying about these happening and imagining the feelings that would result.
  • Tolerance - By now, darker aspects of your hero or heroine (or maybe yourself) should be evident. Don't be afraid. Don't be judgmental. Forgive. Respect. Things will all turn out okay in the end.
  • Reliability - Has the core of your character changed? Is the reason he or she was chosen as the story's protagonist no longer valid? Take another look. Sit with it a while. See if you need to tweak. And remember you can always create a new protagonist, use this one in a different story, or turn the character who was supposed to be the hero into a villain. (This last could be a great move that takes your story to a higher level.)
  • Surprise/Mystery - This usually comes out in the writing. And the best way I know to evoke it with a protagonist -- the character you are most likely to believe you know in and out -- is to make a list of ten to twenty possible responses to a story challenge. The one that is the most shocking, that you never would have guessed your character would have done, may be your best choice. Be open to the possibility. (And, of course, if surprising options pop up spontaneously, don't dismiss them. Even when they seem crazy.)
  • Mutual dependence - This is the part that often falls away for plotters. The main character just goes through the motions. But it's the emotions that count. Your protagonist owes you more than this. Make sure he or she pays back your diligence in providing the best story you can with true responses. If you and your characters avoid being vulnerable and counting on each other, your readers will be cheated.
  • Shared work/risk - Doubt can be a killer for a writer. Or a wonderful tool. It is when things could go wrong (or seem to be going wrong) in the story that you and the characters need to work together. The scenes you struggle with are the ones that force you and your main character to explore more deeply and take chances on. These are the scenes that make or break your story and establish the strongest relationships with your heroes and heroines. Strive together. Be unflinching in the face of disaster.
Okay, I didn't say this ahead of time, but putting your character through some of these exercises puts you through tough experiences, too. So do the work, then do something nice for yourself. Writers who go into dark places with characters they love need to build healthy self-care resources and to indulge in them. Keep yourself sane. Keep writing fun.

Next week, the villains -- which should be less painful.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Bonding with Your Story's Characters 1 - Nine ways to deepen your connections

I spent this last weekend with writers, and I learned more about their heroes, heroines, and villains than their loved ones. That makes sense, right? Writers, caught up with the characters who are dominating of their current manuscripts, should have them top of mind.

But it occurred to me that I often end up talking with non-writers about characters from their favorite novels, movies, and television shows. It can get pathological, I suppose, but it makes sense that people are devoted to their fictional friends. They often know more about these characters than they do about loved ones, especially in the cases of novels and short stories where they get glimpses of thoughts, unfiltered.

I feel my own strongest stories are where I get to know my characters inside and out. In fact, I'm often driven to keep writing stories when things aren't going well -- I'm stuck, the emotions are difficult, I can't solve a plot problem, my opinion of the story is at a low, or words aren't flowing -- because of my familiarity with the characters. Because I have bonded with the characters. Often to the point where they are talking to me and won't be turned away.

Except when you have something urgent in real life, being bonded to your story's characters is an advantage. And, although the bonding can happen immediately -- at first sight? -- for me, it usually is the result of imagining a lot of scenes, working through chapters, or deliberately interviewing characters.

Friends of mine bond by other means. Some can take an abstract worksheet (age, eye color, place in family, education, etc.) and assemble the details so they draw breath. Others, who have powerful visual imaginations, clip pictures from magazines and put together characters that way. (Remember how Truman in The Truman Show reconstructed the image of his true love, Sylvia?) Many writers base their characters on people they've met or composites of real people.

Knowing a character and learning enough so that character comes to life on the page is an achievement, but I think bonding with a character can take more. How do we, as writers connect on a level where it is impossible to turn away? Where are time is given generously? Where we'll stretch our imaginations? Where we'll do whatever is necessary to give our characters the best (stories) and won't be satisfied with anything less than excellence?

I've looked over some of the elements of real life bonding, and I've thought about these in terms of story characters:
  • Investment - The more time, energy, and imagination we put into a relationship, the more likely an intense bond will result. This is the point behind courtship, right? And, ideally, parents invest in their kids to the point where an intense, unbreakable connection is formed.
  • Communication - I interview characters repeatedly as I work on a book or a script. And, when they  whisper in my ear unbidden, I listen. 
  • Commonality - How often to you meet new people and probe to find out if they know people you know, have visited or lived in places you're familiar with, have professional connections, or just shared interests? If you deliberately find out how what you have in common with your characters, it will help you to connect with them. 
  • Concern - I don't know how you write a story where you don't, personally, care about what the protagonist goes through or how he or she ends up. And, while you probably aren't rooting for your villain's success, caring about him or her can create a valuable bond. I'll add that developing empathy, so you can share the emotional highs and lows of characters, can add to the power of a story. I often will revisit a scene and make a point of re-experiencing the conflict through a different character.
  • Tolerance - If you don't have characters whose views and values you don't share, your story will lack dimension. And, if you can only see your points of disagreement, you'll never connect with characters who are different in fundamental ways from you.
  • Reliability - Characters need to have some stable traits and values, even to the point of predictability. While the best stories usually have characters who go through important changes, they remain, fundamentally, the same people at the end.
  • Surprise/Mystery - At the same time, if your main characters don't surprise readers from time to time and are completely transparent, they'll be boring. Secrets are good. And, though the writer should know a lot more than the readers, I think there is a great benefit to having characters who surprise and fail to cooperate with the writers on occasion. This makes the writer/character relationship more interesting. And it creates healthy curiosity.
  • Mutual dependence - My characters rely on me to tell their stories with respect and authenticity. I depend on them to choose, act, and feel.
  • Shared work/risk - Few things pull people together more than working together and facing common risks. I watch to see if my characters are pushing hard to participate in my stories, including going to extremes. I strive not to go halfway in the work of creating all aspects of the experience readers will have to they can participate in the lives of the characters, something my best characters demand. And I make it personal, taking the risk of revealing myself, taking chances with difficult material, and experimenting with storytelling techniques.
I hope this list intrigues you. I'll explore it in future posts, giving examples of how it applies to protagonists, villains, and secondary characters. I'll also share some of the open-ended questions I use to connect more deeply with my characters.



Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Villains for Your Stories 5 - Dare to have a bad guy

Nobody wants to be the bad guy. That includes the writer. This may be why I see fewer of what I’d call old-time villains, who wreak havoc in stories without becoming monsters, in contemporary films and books.

Historically, a lot of antagonists have been members of out groups. When I was a kid, anyone other than a straight WASP — including American Indians, Asians, Blacks, Italians, Gays, Nazis and Irish — made an acceptable villain. You can find all of them in noir films, TV westerns, and cartoons. Today, if you look at that list, only Nazis are still fair game, and it's safe to say that terrorists of any sort can show up in a story and be booed with impunity. Mostly.

One trick writers have used to hang onto some former go-to villains is to have someone of the same ethnicity on the side of the good guys. (See folks, we aren’t bigots. Look, we know some of “those people” are good.)

The legacy of bigotry is enough, in and of itself, to make a writer reluctant to create a villain.

At the other end of the spectrum is the explained villain. A writer, who doesn’t really believe it him/herself, cooks up a cliche Freudian reason for the bad behavior. It’s a segmented sort of insanity. Yes, the writer has an excuse and can point to it, but that does not make the story less disappointing. It's easy to see why writers avoid this path.

An approach to this problem that’s in between is the antihero. Sometimes these are characters who do the right thing because is serves their own selfish interests (or more likely because they have a selfish excuse for doing the right thing, and so don’t see themselves as being “suckers”). Han Solo more or less fits this type and ends up being a hero, despite himself. But I think it’s notable that Han is flanked by a traditional hero, Luke, and an old-time villain, Darth Vader.

I guess it could be said that the Godfather’s Michael Corleone is an antihero. He’s certainly the story’s protagonist. I see him as a tragic figure who is corrupted by circumstances — mainly a society that is even more broken and flawed than his criminal family.

Science fiction and fantasy helped social critics (and their ideas) make it through the McCarthy era safely. And, as long as the pixies and aliens don’t look too much like contemporary groups, these genres can provide rich and safe opportunities for villains. The problem comes in when the worlds these creatures live in are too distant from our own or the nature moves so far from human that it becomes easier to think of these villains as monsters than reflections of ourselves.

To me, the answer to restoring villainy is bringing authenticity to the work. I’ve tried to present some of the approaches to this, such as reflecting the hero or just going to extremes when faced with an intolerable loss or insult, in previous posts. That provides a “how,” but writers still need to have the courage to present villains that will be unacceptable portrayals to some readers or audience members no matter what. As soon as an antagonist is fleshed out enough for people to identify with, the negative aspects will be taken personally.

Good villains get under people’s skin. Writers who present good villains will be attacked.

Which brings us to the “why.” Why create characters that irritate people when you can always soften them or make them into monsters? The answer is villains are necessary if you want to make the most of many story concepts.

All you need to do to prove this to yourself is to list ten of your favorite villains. In fact, you probably can make the case just by listing ten to twenty of your favorite stories. The best argument for daring to make really bad villains is right in front of you — in the movies you’ve watched and the books you've read, over and over again.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Villains for Your Stories 4 - Rousing the beast

I watched a Dragnet episode from the 50s recently, and it starred Lee Marvin as the villain. He was, by far, the most interesting character I ever saw on the show -- part of regular viewing with my dad in it's 60s incarnation.

Marvin took standard Dragnet comments and presented them in fresh ways. He somehow drew Detective Friday into a fist fight (though it was somewhat unconvincing). Also, he was on the screen though almost all the show. That and the culprit's earning a trip to the gas chamber stand out as unique in all my Dragnet viewing. 

The character was a serial killer who was more angry about how society pumped up murder as something special than he was upset in any way by his victims. He barely cared about money he gained. He wasn't especially angry with them or envious. He didn't seem to be thrilled by the process of murder. And he didn't kill to get even or find justice.

I am not a fan of villains as forces of nature without motivation, but I was fascinated by this story, which played out in less than 20 minutes. Was this character just a killing machine with no human dimensions?

The episode contained some of the obligatory psychiatric tropes of the time -- a dream of victims and a report of dissociative behavior-- but I think the answer was away from the main plot. Instead of looking at the police working to put the story of a murder together and get their suspect to confess, the payoff was in murderer's interest in food. 

He was always hungry and particular about what he ate. He even agreed to provide information on where a body was buried once they took him to a favorite, vegetarian restaurant. And he kept his promise, but much of the scene, which revealed a lot about the scope of his murders, was focused on appreciation of the food.

Here's the thing: he was as much wrapped up with sharing his eating experience and appreciation of the bread, the beets, etc., as he was with the murders and his disappointment that people got all that wrong. He could not connect with the importance others put on murder, but he was desperate to connect in a way he thought might work -- a good meal.

Trying to connect on that level with Friday and his partner -- on whom the trip to such an exotic and wonderful restaurant was wasted (both got cheese sandwiches) -- brought tragedy. The serial killer was truly isolated and alone, and he always would be.

Apocryphal story: Marvin was asked how he created such brilliant villains. His answer was that he never played a villain.

It is valuable to look to see how a story is catalyzed, what puts things in motion. For protagonists, that's all about finding the inciting incident (which can occur before the novel or movie begins, but often is in the first act). But it's valuable to see what puts villains in motion, too. What happened that made the antagonist behave in an antisocial way and, in particular, oppose the protagonist?

In the Dragnet episode, I have to presume the villain was so lonely he looked for connection through murder. This is subtle and difficult to portray unless you have a Lee Marvin at hand. But there are more accessible and more easily portrayed catalysts for villainous action.

Betrayal can set off an antagonist. Being turned into the police, left for dead, or not defended by a friend when insulted, slandered, or abused -- any of these can make a villain focus on revenge against an individual or that person's friends and relatives (no matter how innocent). Having a target be a sympathetic hero is usually enough, but, as I stated in the second post in this series, it's valuable to have the reaction by the villain be disproportionate. Make "making things right" go out of control.

Putting a scare into a character can turn one into a villain. None of us wants to lose what we value. A threat to power, in particular, can lead to bad behavior. History is littered with kings who executed (or had executed) potential claimants to the throne, including innocent children. But the cause can be as simple as having someone the villain imagines loves him or her show interest in the protagonist. Since the hero's success could draw away a loved one, the antagonist must take all steps necessary to make the hero fail.

Similarly, when a character will only feel complete if the treasure or person he or she wants in attained, the person who has it may be dehumanized and marked for destruction. The same thing is true if knowledge is a problem and the villain needs to hide his or her guilt. There's a Bible story that has both of these. Once King David got Uriah's wife pregnant, the soldier was marked by the King, which ultimately led to his death.

The prospect of defeat, especially when the villain sees his or her vulnerability, can push the character into unfair behavior, often expressed as "evening the odds" in a competition. I love it when the villain is the only one who sees and understands the great talent the hero has. A scene where the hero innocently reveals the talent and doesn't even realize he or she has done so -- and thus creates a formidable enemy -- can be a highlight in a story. And the superior position of the reader or audience can make that scene irresistible.

One more thing to explore -- the context of rousing the beast. If you create such a scene consider the following:
  • How to make sure what happens is important to the villain and the readers/audience knows this.
  • Not having the villain reveal him or herself. I like it when the antagonist does not appear to be powerful (like Uriah Heep in David Copperfield).
  • If possible, use emotional triggers that have been established in the story or that are universal.
  • Create more impact by setting it up with mood (comic relief can precede a catalytic event and double it's emotional effect) or setting (a betrayal on the antagonist's home grounds, say the family dinner table, or in a place with imagery, like a church).
Yes, there are plenty of villains who need no catalyst. They are "compelled" or their reason is "a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." But it's worth exploring the opportunity to find more.