Pro Tip: Proactive Vs. Reactive; Guide to Awesome Characters!

[DividesByZer0]

This is a two for one deal, woo!


Proactive Vs. Reactive. What does this mean? Simply put:


"A demonstration of the character’s ability to make decisions and affect the story. This character has motivations all her own. She is active more than she is reactive. She pushes on the plot more than the plot pushes on her. Even better, the plot exists as a direct result of the character’s actions."


It’s about being proactive versus reactive. When characters choose the latter, we readers become frustrated. Is the point of your character that they are a passive person? Then work with that and have her do something about it. We don't want to read a wall of text of internal dialogue that our characters can't act on. If this passive behavior is not your intention, then you need to prove it by having your character move the story forward because they want to.


Your character is going to be determined by their motivation, desires, goals. If you figure these out, you can then go on to discover how the plot will proceed. This is also how you can create more character-driven stories rather than plot-driven ones, granting your writing a whole new level of interest for us readers.


Whenever I talk about characters with people I frequently bring up the notion that, for me, good characters are proactive. And this, I often say, is one of the things that really matters in a so-called “strong female character” — not that she is a character who can bend steel rebar with her crushing breasts, but rather that she proactive within the story you’re telling.


So, let’s talk a little bit about being proactive and why a character needs it.


Being proactive is, to me, a demonstration of the character’s ability to make decisions and affect the story. This character has motivations all her own. She is active more than she is reactive. She pushes on the plot more than the plot pushes on her. Even better, the plot exists as a direct result of the character’s actions.


The story exists because of the character. The character does not exist because of the story.


Characters without proactivity tend to be like little hot air balloons bobbing down a slip stream of our own making. They cannot steer. They cannot change the course of the wind current. The current is an external force that carries them along — meaning, the plot sticks its hand up the character’s cavernous bottom-hole and makes the character do things and say things in service to the plot. (Or worse, internal monologue of thought and feelings! In turn your fellow writers can't act on this.)


Because characters without proactivity are really just puppets who serve no purpose and just watching everything unfold.


It sounds easier said than done. In the writing of a story it’s common to find that you had these Ideas about the story and the character appears to be serving those ideas — she is not driving the car so much as the car is driving her. And it’s doubly tricky when you write a story that has more than one character, which is to say, uhhh, nearly all stories ever. Because one character who has proactivity can dominate the proceedings and set too much of the pace, too much of the plot. Other characters lose their proactivity in response becoming reactive puppets. For example: an antagonist puts into play a particularly sinister plot that forces all the other characters to react to it again and again, never really getting ahead of it. That’s not to say that reacting to events is problematic — just that reacting to events shouldn’t be passive. It shouldn’t be the character going another way just because the plot demands it. At some point reaction has to become action. It has to be the character getting ahead of the plot, ahead of the other characters. The power differential must shift.


And it’s the character who should be shifting it.


Look at your characters. Are they fully-formed? Ask yourself: if the character in the middle of your story went off and did something entirely different from what you planned or expected — something still in line with the character’s motivations — would that “ruin the plot?” That might be a sign that the plot is too external and that the character possess too little proactivity.


Characters without proactivity feel like props.


Worse, they’re boring as watching a bear wipe its butt on a pine tree. (Okay, that’s pretty comical for the first 30 seconds, but then it gets boring. I’m just saying.)


Proactive characters do things and say things that create narrative. Plot is spun out of the words and actions of these characters. And their words and actions continue to push on the plot created by other characters.


(Those who play tabletop roleplaying games understand this in a practical way. If you’ve ever rolled bones with an RPG, you know when you’ve got a gamemaster who railroads the plot versus one who puts the characters into a situation and lets the plot spin out of their actions and reactions around that situation.)


What gets interesting about a story isn’t when some Big External Plot is set into motion. What’s interesting is when the proactivity possessed by multiple characters competes. This push-and-pull of character motivations, decisions and reactions is how stories that matter are created. Because they’re stories about people, not about events, and people are why we read stories. Because we are all made of people. Our lives are made of us and all the other people around us. We live in a people-focused world because we’re solipsistic A-holes who think that unless we behold it and create it, it probably doesn’t matter. And in stories, that’s pretty much true.


Stories must be made of people.


And that can only really happen when those people — those characters — are proactive.


(Because after all, your characters shouldn’t be parenthetical to their own story, should they?)

 

[DividesByZer0]

Guide to Awesome Characters:


When writers our creating characters, we are asked for these character details that entreat us to answer rather mad questions about them: hair color, eye color, toe length, nipple hue, former job, phone number of former job supervisor, what she had for lunch, if she were a piece of Ikea furniture what piece would she be (“Connie coffee-table! NO WAIT, A DRAGONFRUIT-SCENTED CANDLE HOLDER!”). And so on and so forth.


Most of these are, of course, abject wombat-poop.


They get you as close to creating a strong, well-realized and interesting character as jumping off your roof with a blankie on your back gets you to flying.


And yet, I am frequently finding posts about how one creates good characters real quick for a new rp. The short answer to that is, mostly, you don’t. Characters are not a fast soup — they’re a long-bubbling broth developing flavors the longer you think about them and, more importantly, the more you write about them. (Which one assumes is the point of the inane questions asked by many rp threads, which would be a noble effort if those questions were not so frequently concerned with details and decisions that will never have anything to do with your character, your story, or your world.)


Or worse, the dreaded character "type". A “type” is just a thin coat of paint to slather on a faceless mannequin to give the illusion of having a genuine character there somewhere. Create people who are real in the context of your world. Do not lean on the crutch of “type." We are writers after all.


So, I decided to slap on the ol’ thinking-cap (seriously, it’s really old and gross and I think a guy died in this hat) to come up a post that should get your head around a character quickly, efficiently and creatively. Just putting it out there for you all to fold, unwind, and mutilate.


The Character Logline:


Right up front, I want you to identify who the character is. And you’re going to do it in a very brief way, the same way you would conjure a logline (or “pitch”) for your story at hand. You will identify this character in the same space allowed for a single tweet — so, 140 characters.


If you need help, try writing a few character loglines for pre-existing characters from other storyworlds


“Dexter Morgan is a serial killer with a code of honor hiding in plain sight among the officers of the Miami Police Department.”


Or


“Boba Fett is an inept bounty hunter in Bad-ass Mandalorian battle armor who sucks a lot at his job and gets eaten by a giant desert sphincter.” Whatever. (Want practice? describe a few well-known characters in a reply.)


Problem:


Right up front, the character has a problem. A character’s problem is why the character exists in this storyworld, and this problem helps generate plot (plot, after all, is Soylent Green — it is made of people). Identify the problem. Shorter is better (and note that you may have inadvertently identified the problem in the logline above, which is not only fine, but awesome).


Problems could be anything that defines the character’s journey: “Hunted by an unkillable were-beast;” “Can’t get it up in bed;” “Trapped in an alternate dimension and unable to get home;” “Pursued by chimpanzee crime syndicate;” “Lost child in divorce;” “Life’s work stolen by dirigible-dwelling Skypirate-folk;” “Can’t find gluten-free muffins in this damn city.”


If you take John McClane from Die Hard, his problem isn’t really the terrorists — not as a character problem. The terrorists are a plot problem — get there in a minute. John’s actual problem is his separation from his wife. That’s his issue. That’s what drives him.


Buffy Summers is a character who wants to be a normal teen, but isn’t.


The problem is why we’re here. It’s why we’re watching this character, right now.


Solution:


The character will also have a proposed solution to that problem. I’m not talking about You The Storyteller solving the problem. I’m talking about what the character thinks is or should be the solution. A solution that, in fact, the character will pursue at the start of the story.


The character who is hunted by an unkillable were-beast, well, she may decide that she has to escape to the fringes of the society where she can uncover a some magic cook book, which she believes is the only way to throw off the scent.


The character who can’t find gluten-free muffins is going to try to bake her own.


John McClane’s solution to his separation is to fly all the way out to LA from NY and reconnect with his wife at her office Christmas party.


If we are to assume that Dexter Morgan’s problem is: “Dexter is a secret serial killer,” his solution is to “hide in plain sight in Miami Metro PD.” (One might suggest that it his solution is to “stick to a code of honor that forces him to kill only criminals,” but I think that’s something else — and I’ll get there in a minute, I promise, cool your testes-and-or-teats.)


The Conflict Between:


In between a character’s problem and solution is a wonderful tract of jagged, dangerous landscape called HOLY S***, CONFLICT.


Or, if you’d prefer, it’s less a landscape and more a GIANT SPIKY WALL. Or a gauntlets of FISTS AND KNIVES AND BLUDGEONING STICKS. Or whatever image gets you to grasp the perilous potential between points A (problem) and Z (solution).


It’s possible that this space is practically auto-generated, that the conflict writes itself as a product of the problem -> solution dichotomy. With Dexter, his problem is being a serial killer, and his solution is to embed himself in Miami PD. That conjures an immediate and easy-to-imagine conflict. Serial killer? Working for the police? Easy to see the conflict there.


John McClane’s problem and solution auto-generate conflicts that don’t really fit in the context of an action movie. And so the writers created a kick-ass external conflict — in this case, THE INEPTITUDE OF THE LOCAL POLICE AND FBI. Oh, and also, some dude named Hans Gruber?


But even external conflicts are key to the character — the conflict born in the gulf between McClane’s problem and his solution is still one that demands the best efforts of his cop nature. The writers didn’t give him a love triangle, or a cantankerous mother-in-law, or a stuck pickle jar. He’s a bad-ass dude with a gun and a badge and no shoes and so they gave him a gaggle of terrorists.


Ultimately, try to mine the rich, ruby-laden earth between what the character wants and what the character cannot have.


Limitations:


A limitation is generally internal — meaning, it’s something within the character that exists as part of their nature. This limitation hobbles them in some way, altering their problem/solution dichotomy (which we could call “the mission”).


Remember how I was talking about Dexter’s “code of honor?” I consider this a limitation to his character — we the audience would perceive that as a strength but to Dexter, it’s also a limitation. It puts a limit on his role as a serial killer and thus creates not only a deeper character, but also offers new plot angles and opportunities for tension.


Limitations are traits of the character’s that get in her way — they might be flaws or frailties but they can just as easily be positive traits that make trouble for the character and the plot. You might say that Buffy’s limitations were her age, her immaturity, and her emotional entanglements with problematic boyfriends (seriously, Buffy, what’s with the choice in dudes?).


Complications:


Complications tend to be external — they are entanglements outside the character that complicate their lives. These can be more character-based or more plot-based depending on which aspect of the story you’re working. John McClane’s job is a character complication — he’s married more to the job than he is to his wife, which is what leads to the problem, which demands a solution, which opens the door for conflict. And the conflict is further complicated by his intensely cop-flavored demeanor, because he just can’t let this thing go. He throws himself into danger again and again not just because his wife is in the building, but because this is who he is. Shoeless and largely alone, all he is, is pure, unmitigated yippie-kay-ay cowboy cop.


(And of course the thing is, a character’s limitations and complications are also the things that may help them succeed in their mission even while still causing them grave disorder.)


Greatest Fear:


Short but sweet: what does the character fear most? Death. Love. Disease. Losing one’s best friend. Snakes. Toddlers. Clowns. Lady Gaga. Whatever. It’s useful to identify the character’s fear — meaning, the thing they most don’t want to encounter or see happen — because you’re the storyteller, and you’re cruel, and now you have this Awful Thing in your pocket. And whenever you want, you can bring the Awful Thing out of its demon-box and broadside the character with it to see which way she jumps.


Description:


Description for characters is overrated — again, a lot of these character sheets for our rps seem hell-bent to have you figure out their eyebrow color, sexuality, body measurements and other useless metrics. That said, I do think a little description is good, and here’s what you’re going to do:


Write a description. Keep it to 100 words. Less if you can manage (once again consider the 140-character limitation). Do not hit all the bases. Do not try to stat them up like a freaking baseball player. Listen, when you look at someone, you take away a visual thumbprint of that person — it’s pushed deep into the crevices of your memory. You don’t remember every little detail or aspect. Rather, you remember them as, that gangly Lurch dude with the flat-top hair-do and the lips like grave-worms, or, that woman shaped like a butternut squash with the frock that smelled like cigarettes and wet dog.


A short, sharp shock of character description. And a tip on description: writers are best describing things that break the status quo, that violate our expectations. In other words, find the things that make the character visually unique, interesting, odd, curious — different. Stick to those unless specifically asked.


The Test Drive:


The character’s voice and behavior is still a bit alien to you at this point — conjuring all these details and entanglements still doesn’t let you zip into their skin and grab their vocal chords like a flight stick in order to pilot them around (suddenly I’m getting a really weird narrative metaphor and I must like it a lot because I think I have a boner — what shut up it’s a metaphorical boner jeez you people you’re so puritanical with your “ew talking about boners.”). So, my advice is:


Take ‘em for a test drive. Said it before, will say it again: write a thousand-word piece of flash fiction with Your Brand New Shiny Character in the starring role. Drive him around. Ding him up. Challenge her! Force her to talk to other characters: an obstinate cab driver, a belligerent cop, a drunken orangutan. Give him a new problem or one related to the character explicitly.


Let ‘em speak. Let ‘em act. See what they do when you get behind the wheel.


Inhabit the character.


And you may come away with new material you want to use in another rp.


Rewrite The Logline:


All that’s said and done?


Rewrite the original logline.


Sharpen it like a freaking stake you’re gonna stick into a vampire’s chesty bits.


The reason you’re rewriting is:


a) Because your idea of the character may have changed a little or a lot through this process so, best to revisit and revamp accordingly.


and


b) Because you better get used to revision and tweaking things — plots, characters, sentences — to hone them into molecule-splitting story-razors.


And That’s That


That’s it. A quick path through character creation in what hopefully distills that character down to his or her bare quintessence. More importantly, it’s a process that in a perfect world gets you into their headspace and the plot-space that surrounds them, thus allowing you to drop-kick them right into the story without any hitches or hiccups. Thoughts, comments, questions, complaints, prayer requests, death threats, proposals of marriage — Drop ‘em in a reply... (Shameless Self Promotion: RolePlay - Pro Tip: Kill your darlings and finish your stuff)







Character Sheet as per request:


It really would depend on the rp, for example if there are different races of creatures for a fantasy or scifi, a short line or so about the race's culture may be a nice addition especially if its an original idea. But I'm not saying to discount obvious things like Name, age, and gender. Those are good things to keep in mind, but they aren't who your charcter is.


For example:


Klingons - "A warrior race who seek honor in battle, to conquer, and a good death. And what ever you do, don't ask about the time before they had those gnarly head ridges."


Now this would tell us alot about the character and what we can expect as we rp with him. This insight also allows you to get a firm hold into the heart of the character when you portray him.


I would also note "likes and dislikes" is something I would keep to yourself. While it helps you understand the character, nobody else cares that he likes chocolate ice cream and long walks on the beach. These types of details are frivolous.


But as I said in the post, to get the the heart of a character include: motivation, desires (conceptual), goals (concrete thing), greatest fear, external problems (plot), personal limitations (internal), complications (external, but due to limitations),maybe even details of personal beliefs. Maybe he thinks there is no such thing a god or believes in magic or perhaps that aliens are stealing that one sock in the laundry that always disappears. These things are much more revealing.


You may choose to do a short 100 words of character description as well, but use details that don't involve simple metrics. For instance, "He has green eyes" isn't useful. You might as well find a picture. Show with a narrative, don't tell us. (Shameless self-promotion: Roleplay - ProTip: Show, Don't Tell.)


Instead maybe say something like:


"His deep-seated and evil, emerald eyes say to you that you're probably going to get mugged."


Hope this helps.


(TLDR and for ease of access


Name:


Age:


Gender:


Motivation:


Desires(conceptual):


Goals(concrete thing):


Greatest Fear:


External problems (plot):


Personal limitations (internal):


Complications (external due to limitations):


You can also consider,


Personal beliefs: (morals, dogma, religion etc)

 

[thespacekid]

Whoa, this was a great article! Really helpful. So what would your ideal CS look like?

 

[DividesByZer0]

Whoa, this was a great article! Really helpful. So what would your ideal CS look like?

Thank you very much!


To answer your question,


It really would depend on the rp, for example if there are different races of creatures for a fantasy or scifi, a short line or so about the race's culture may be a nice addition especially if its an original idea. But I'm not saying to discount obvious things like Name, age, and gender. Those are good things to keep in mind, but they aren't who your charcter is.


For example:


Klingons - "A warrior race who seek honor in battle, to conquer, and a good death. And what ever you do, don't ask about the time before they had those gnarly head ridges."


Now this would tell us alot about the character and what we can expect as we rp with him. This insight also allows you to get a firm hold into the heart of the character when you portray him.


I would also note "likes and dislikes" is something I would keep to yourself. While it helps you understand the character, nobody else cares that he likes chocolate ice cream and long walks on the beach. These types of details are frivolous.


But as I said in the post, to get the the heart of a character include: motivation, desires (conceptual), goals (concrete thing), greatest fear, external problems (plot), personal limitations (internal), complications (external, but due to limitations), maybe even details of personal beliefs. Maybe he thinks there is no such thing a god or believes in magic or perhaps that aliens are stealing that one sock in the laundry that always disappears. These things are much more revealing.


You may choose to do a short 100 words of character description as well, but use details that don't involve simple metrics. For instance, "He has green eyes" isn't useful. You might as well find a picture. Show with a narrative, don't tell us. (Shameless self-promotion:


Roleplay - ProTip: Show, Don't Tell.)


Instead maybe say something like:


"His deep-seated and evil, emerald eyes say to you that you're probably going to get mugged."


Hope this helps.


(TLDR and for ease of access


Name:


Age:


Gender:


Motivation:


Desires(conceptual):


Goals(concrete thing):


Greatest Fear:


External problems (plot):


Personal limitations (internal):


Complications (external due to limitations):


You can also consider,


Personal beliefs: (morals, dogma, religion etc)

 

[Zenox]

This was a fantastic read! I'll definitely keep some of the things listed on here in the back of my skull whenever I'm character building. Kudos to you and your well-written guide.

 

[DividesByZer0]

This was a fantastic read! I'll definitely keep some of the things listed on here in the back of my skull whenever I'm character building. Kudos to you and your well-written guide.

Thank you very much it means a lot.