I recently led a friend of mine through an exercise designed to shape a character, and with her permission, we’re going to discuss that exercise here. We run into this sort of issue pretty frequently: a character has a strong backstory, but that doesn’t quite translate into a strong, solid character. In this case, the character – we’ll call her Ashley – was defined as a woman in her mid-20s whose father is an abusive alcoholic.

That single fact drove most of the character creation, and was the answer to almost every question about this character. What was Ashley’s romantic history? Light and sporadic, because she can’t trust men because her father was an abusive alcoholic. What does she look for in a man? Sobriety. And so on, each question leading back to that single backstory detail. No matter the question, the answer was, “Daddy was a mean drunk.” In fact, here is what my friend offered as a brief character description:

She’s been conditioned that people will always disappoint her. Her father disappoints her by constantly falling off the wagon. Every time she puts any faith in him, he blows it. Her mother (although she has a good relationship with her) disappointed her because she never had the strength to leave Ashley’s dad and give Ahsley a more stable environment.

This is good, as far as it goes, but it doesn’t go far enough. My friend, to her credit, knew something was off with this character but was having trouble grasping the smoke. The problem is one of focus. Daddy’s not in this book. The story isn’t about letting go of the original family. This is a straightforward romance novel with a strong external plot that doesn’t involve Ashley’s dad at all. So this means that every time we were talking about the backstory, we were talking about events that occurred outside the scope of this plot. Those events have no relevance OTHER THAN the way they shaped Ashley’s character.

So we had to reframe Ashley’s character. We had to focus on the results (how she behaves in real story time), rather than the cause (Daddy was a mean drunk).

Step one in this exercise was to come up with a list of character traits. I forbid my writing friend from mentioning Ashley’s father at all. I told her to come up with a simple list of character traits to describe Ashley. Each trait should be expressed in a word or two. Here is what she sent:

Suspicious

Controlling

Self-contained

Lonely

Miserly (in that she can pinch a penny until the head pops off. LOL)

Dependable (if she wants it done, she does it herself)

Driven

That’s a sad list, isn’t it? The traits seem overwhelmingly negative. This is a romantic heroine we’re talking about. The reader will want to be able to identify with this character, so that negativity might be a barrier. Also, keep in mind that we’re trying to understand how a formative situation shapes character. Ashley was forged in fire, and these kinds of circumstances can make you hard, but they can also make you strong.

So the next step was to challenge my friend to find a positive way to express these traits. Almost every aspect of character can be positive or negative, depending on how it is expressed in the story. So I asked her to look at her list and think of positive ways these traits might manifest. For example, a suspicious character might be hard to fool, which would be a good trait in a romantic suspense novel, right?

Here is what my friend generated:

Negative                      Positive

Suspicious                   Won’t be fooled

Controlling                  Orderly

Miserly                      Responsible with money

Self-contained             Self-sufficient

Lonely                          Doesn’t need to be entertained

Driven                         Wants to do a good job

Now we understand the different ways that the same basic trait might be expressed in the course of the plot. After getting this far and looking at her list more closely, we realized that Ashley’s core trait is that she’s cautious. This caution is expressed in multiple ways, and almost every trait on the above list, both positive and negative, can be seen as an expression of that cautiousness. Now we’re starting to really understand what drives Ashley, but there’s still one more step.

That final step is figuring out how these traits manifest in the world Ashley inhabits. This is where things get really interesting. Look at that list and think about some aspect of Ashley’s present world and how it might be impacted by each trait. Do you see any potential conflicts? I do. For example, if she’s good with money, but miserly, does she buy an investment property like an apartment building to live in, or a tiny condo with low payments, or something else? If she’s self-contained and entertains herself, does she have a great television system and movie collection, or does her miserliness keep her from spending money on this sort of thing? If she’s put on a work project team with a sexy, smoking hot hero, will she agree to work late and discuss the project over drinks?

By thinking of these kinds of potential issues in the character formation stage, you not only develop a deeper understanding of the character, but you develop a sense of how different aspects of that character are prioritized. Which will she value more, saving money or protecting her privacy? In times of stress, does she hide or does she try to control everything? In the end, when this exercise is complete, you will have a more fully developed character, and you will understand better how to portray her in a deep, complex way.

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RU writers, what’s your process for developing your character?

Join us on Monday with Ollin Morales’ post What Charlie Chaplin Can Teach You About Writing A Great Love Story

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Bio: Theresa Stevens is the Publisher of STAR Guides Publishing, a nonfiction publishing company with the mission to help writers write better books. After earning degrees in creative writing and law, she worked as a literary attorney agent for a boutique firm in Indianapolis where she represented a range of fiction and nonfiction authors. After a nine-year hiatus from the publishing industry to practice law, Theresa worked as chief executive editor for a highly acclaimed small romance press, and her articles on writing and editing have appeared in numerous publications for writers. Visit her blog at http://edittorrent.blogspot.com/ where she and her co-blogger share their knowledge and hardly ever argue about punctuation.

As soon as I saw the “Backstory slowing your pace?” description introducing your monthly column, I knew I had to write.  My current novel (a short contemporary romance) opens with a chapter that sets my hero on his task and I need his backstory to get the reader to understand why he agrees to take the task on in the first place.  I’m afraid that, without understanding the “why” of it that he’ll come across as a pushover (instead of a man who values loyalty and honor and family) and the parallels between the hero’s situation and the heroine’s will be lost if I don’t lay certain details out…. but I’m info-dumping!  Help!  How do I do this without putting my reader into a coma?

Thank you so much!

Julie Harrington 

Hi, Julie,

That’s a great question, and the perfect follow-up to last month’s post on backstory. We see loads of problems with first scene info-dumps, but the good news is that these kinds of problems are usually easy to fix.

Based on what you’ve told us, you’re already doing a couple of things right, so let’s take a look at those first. Our goal will be to preserve and enhance these good things.

First, you’ve got a character confronted with a choice, and he makes a decision that leads to action. In other words, there’s an actual scene here. It’s not all backstory. Characters are interacting and meaningful change results from that interaction. That’s good. (I assume there’s more than one character even though you only mention the one. I assume you’re not starting with something passive and solitary like traveling to a new location or thinking about his next move.)

Next, you’ve got lead characters with emotional arcs that mirror each other. This is good. This lays the foundation for the reader’s belief that these two people actually belong together. This is the key to the whole romance, and it’s good that you’re setting up for it right from the beginning.

Finally, it looks as though you’ve got a properly motivated character. I say “looks as though” because we’re not measuring the motivation against the actions – we can’t do that on the basis of the information provided. But it’s probably safe to assume that the motivations you mention (good, noble things like loyalty) are in proportion to the decision made, enough so to get the ball rolling on the plot.

Just to be on the safe side, though, you might review the scene with proportional motivation in mind. Big changes need big motivations. There is a possibility that you’re reaching for backstory because the change is big and needs bigger motivation than is first apparent from the scene action. Instead of dealing with it in the present moment of the scene, you might be reaching backwards for material to prop up the present moment.

A little of this is fine, and probably even inevitable, but too much can crush your pacing. Which leads me to what I suspect is the key issue in your scene’s pacing issue:

I’m afraid that, without understanding the “why” of it that he’ll come across as a pushover….

Pushover. Yikes. In other words, your character is going to readily agree to do something that the reader might not easily sympathize with. And your scene “explains” that by giving the backstory about loyalty and family and all that good stuff so that the reader will continue to admire the hero. Nutshell version of possible scene, exaggerated for teaching purposes:

John:  You need to kill the mayor.

Kevin:  Okay. Will do.

Narrator:  Kevin agrees to kill the mayor because the mayor is initiating eminent domain proceedings against his family’s farmland, which has been handed down through five generations and is the only thing standing between his elderly mother and starvation. The mayor is the key player in the sale, and if he’s out of the picture, the town council will drop the matter. The mayor wants the farmland because of an argument he had with Kevin’s father in 1984. Etc. Etc.

See that? Unsympathetic act. Ready agreement. Motivation by backstory.  And what’s missing? Conflict.

Conflict is the engine that drives every page of a well-told tale. For that reason, I will recommend you shift the focus of your scene *away from explaining* the decision and *toward conflict* over the decision. What are Kevin’s reasons for resistance? (Hint: they should also be the reader’s reasons for being skeptical or unsympathetic.) What if Kevin and John fought about it? Kevin could still agree in the end for the very same reasons, but now the scene would be dynamic and conflict-driven, and you’d gain reader sympathy for Kevin.  For example: 

John:  You need to kill the mayor.

Kevin:  Hell, no! Are you crazy?

John:  But you have to stop the mayor from forcing the sale of the farmland, or Mom will be homeless.

Kevin:  Yes, but I’m no murderer. I’m going to hire a lawyer.

John:  You can’t stop the mayor with a lawsuit.

Kevin:  I can if I tell the judge why the mayor is picking on my family. He’s got no good reason to want that farmland.

John:  But they changed the laws. The mayor doesn’t need a good reason. He doesn’t need any reason at all. That’s why you have to kill him.

Etc.

John and Kevin continue to argue, and as Kevin presents objections and John overcomes them, Kevin isn’t in danger of being a pushover. He’s resisting. Sure, it’s easy to resist becoming a murderer (for most of us, anyway – Kevin might have to capitulate). But even if Kevin is resisting something else – even something good like taking the kids for an ice cream cone – the point is to have him resist. Let him form objections, and let those objections be overcome by rationales the reader can understand. Then he’s not a pushover, but a reasonable man, and the reader will bond with him because they share his objections. 

During the course of his resistance, some backstory will be more naturally revealed. How much? Exactly enough for the argument between them to proceed to its conclusion. And not a drop more. Your job at this point is not to “fill the reader in” on all the details of the landscape. Your job is to lure them in with conflict and dynamic change, and keep them guessing.

In other words, don’t give them enough information to explain everything that happens on the *current* page. Give them just enough – just barely enough – to get them to the *next* page. Otherwise, you’re in danger of undercutting your conflict by explaining it away.

Does this help? Feel free to ask follow-up questions in the comments if you have any.

You’ve probably heard some of the “rules” about backstory. They usually start with the word Don’t. Don’t use it in the first chapter. Don’t use it in an action scene. Don’t use it in the black moment. Don’t use it in the climax. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. There’s a simple rationale behind these rules. If you understand the rationale, you won’t have to worry about sorting out which of these rules to apply. But first, let’s make sure we all understand our terms.

What Is Backstory?

Remember the timelines that decorated your high school history text? If you were studying World War One, the timeline began with an assassination and ended with the Allied victory. Your book can be mapped in a similar way. The first event in the book is the starting point of your timeline. The final resolution of the plot is the end point. Everything that happens in chronological book time between these two points constitutes your plot. Here is the simplest definition of backstory: every relevant *event* that occurs before your book’s timeline begins is backstory. If the event can be plotted on your book’s chronological timeline (like the battles of World War One in the history text) then the event is plot. If the event precedes your book’s chronological timeline, it is backstory.

A Working Definition of Story

As long as we’ve defined backstory, let’s also define story. Story is composed of: 1) People 2) In motion 3) Against a backdrop That’s it in a nutshell. Character, plot/conflict, world-building. There are other story elements such as theme and motif, but those are usually built up by manipulating other elements. In other words, you don’t write a chapter that explains the theme. But you might choose actions or a setting to enhance a thematic idea.

Why All the Don’ts?

Backstory may sound innocent enough, but it’s freighted with dangers. Let’s look at its effect on our three story elements.

~Stopped Motion

Backstory stops your story motion cold. Imagine your reader strolling along your story timeline, enjoying the journey, and then all of a sudden, forward progress stops. She’s yanked off the timeline and sent in a way-back machine to events that are off the map. Everything else is arrested, held in suspension until the reader is filled in on the missing details. It’s the equivalent of listening to a child tell a story with great enthusiasm, but she suddenly interrupts with, “Oh, wait! I forgot to tell you something!”

Too many of these interruptions, and by the end of the tale, you’ll have a frozen smile and secret hope that the kid, at least, understands what she just said. You may be tempted to counteract this effect by wiggling the past events into the present story line. This sometimes results in soap opera dialogue.

“But, Jasmine, you know darn well that Mark broke both his femurs in 1987, and married his nurse Madeline, but she was secretly in love with Carmine, who kidnapped her and forced her to become a bigamist, but then Carmine was shot during a drug bust, and Grace never forgave herself for narcing on him, and so this is why you can’t serve madeliene cakes at your surprise engagement party for Mark and Grace!”

Do you see why that’s bad? It might seem engaging, in one sense, because it recounts a lot of exciting events. But who is the speaker speaking to? Jasmine already knows all that stuff. The dialogue sounds false because it is false. Jasmine must stand there and play decoy while the audience catches up. That’s a pretty shabby way to treat Jasmine.

~Characters

You might think that backstory relates to character because it explains internal conflicts and motivations.

“Mark’s first wife Madeline cheated on him, and now he’s afraid to trust a woman.” Poor Mark. Who can blame him? But let’s take a look at two possibilities and decide which makes a stronger story.

Choice A) Mark had a bad first marriage. Years later, he meets Grace. Grace is beautiful, sweet, smart, successful, and interested in him. Mark sees Grace’s good qualities and is deeply attracted to her. But he hesitates to trust her because of his ex-wife.

Choice B) The first time Mark sees Grace, she’s skulking in the cloakroom on parent-teacher night. He sees her look over her shoulder then stick her hand inside a man’s jacket pocket. Later, Detective Mark learns that a car was stolen from the school parking lot.

Both of these scenarios paint trust issues. In one, Mark doesn’t trust Grace because of a third party’s actions. In the second, Mark doesn’t trust Grace because of her own actions. Do you see how the second conflict is stronger?

Mark is motivated by immediate and pressing concerns rather than by some free-floating emotion from some years distant. In other words, beware the backstory used to shore up character motivations. It often points to a lack of real conflict or to other plot problems. Every time you’re tempted to reach backwards to explain why characters are behaving a certain way, stop. Ask yourself if you can fix it in the present story moment, because this will almost always be the stronger fix.

~The Furniture

Even when you intend backstory to tie directly to character issues, in many cases it will mimic the world-building. “Mark lives in a Cape Cod on a quiet street. He and Madeline bought the house before he learned she was cheating on him. He caught her with Carmine in the downstairs bathroom shower. He won’t go into that room now, not even to clean it, and it’s still painted the girly lilac she picked out.”

Even though backstory relates past events, it sets the stage for current events. Let’s face it — if it didn’t set that stage, there would be no reason to include it. So perhaps Mark’s purple bathroom becomes important when Grace, his interior decorator, is banned from repainting it. The purple bathroom is symbolic of Mark’s inner landscape, and that’s perfectly fine. In fact, this is how we like it to work: the character’s inner state is made manifest in his outer world.

So think about how your character’s backstory becomes tangible in the physical story world. And then think about how those tangible details can be used as props while the characters are working out their conflicts. This will effectively tie the past to the present in a meaningful way. But one coat of lilac paint is all you need. No need to analyze every bristle on the paintbrush. Present your backstory and return to the present as quickly as possible. You want to sacrifice as little momentum as possible.

Don’t.

Where do all the Don’t rules come from? Now that you understand that backstory stops the forward motion of the plot, you know why it’s not a great idea to use it in an action scene. It kills the momentum of the action. Likewise, in the early chapters, you want to keep tightly focused on plot and forward motion, simply because this will lock in your reader’s attention. The black moment and the crisis should be built on a foundation of strong conflicts in the plot. They shouldn’t need to be propped up by backstory. We could go on and pick apart every manifestation of a backstory Don’t, but the bottom line is this: You want your story to be dynamic and engaging. If backstory helps you accomplish this goal, then there’s no Don’t about it.

After earning degrees in creative writing and law, Theresa Stevens worked as a literary attorney agent for a boutique firm based in Indianapolis where she represented a range of fiction and nonfiction authors. The lure of the courtroom led to a nine-year hiatus from the publishing industry, but now Theresa is back as Managing Editor for Red Sage Publishing, a highly acclaimed small press. Her articles on writing and editing have appeared in numerous publications for writers. Visit her blog at http://edittorrent.blogspot.com where she and her co-blogger share their knowledge and hardly ever argue about punctuation.

Thank you, Theresa! Be sure to stop by Theresa’s blog, Edittorrent, for topics like this and a whole lot more. A writer’s candy shop!! Don’t forget to leave a comment. One lucky commenter during our launch week (May 18-22) will win an iPod Nano! Be sure to join Kelsey on Monday (actually Tuesday since Monday’s Memorial Day) to find out why Author Natalie Damschroder thinks Writing IS a Business.