Plausible, complex characters are crucial to successful storytelling. You can develop them in several ways.

1. Concreteness.

They have specific homes, possessions, medical histories, tastes in furniture, political opinions. Apart from creating
verisimilitude, these concrete aspects of the characters should convey information about the story: does the hero smoke
Marlboros because he's a rugged outdoorsman, or because that's the brand smoked by men of his social background, or just
because you do?

2. Symbolic association.

You can express a character's nature metaphorically through objects or settings (a rusty sword, an apple orchard in bloom, a
violent thunderstorm). These may not be perfectly understandable to the reader at first (or to the writer!), but they seem
subconsciously right. Symbolic associations can be consciously "archetypal" (see Northrop Frye), linking the character to
similar characters in literature. Or you may use symbols in some private system which the reader may or may not consciously
grasp. Characters' names can form symbolic associations, though this practice has become less popular in modern fiction
except in comic or ironic writing.

3. Speech.

The character's speech (both content and manner) helps to evoke personality: shy and reticent, aggressive and frank, coy,
humorous. Both content and manner of speech should accurately reflect the character's social and ethnic background without
stereotyping. If a character "speaks prose," his or her background should justify that rather artificial manner. If a character is
inarticulate, that in itself should convey something.

4. Behavior.

From table manners to performance in hand-to-hand combat, each new example of behavior should be consistent with what
we already know of the character, yet it should reveal some new aspect of personality. Behavior under different forms of stress
should be especially revealing.

5. Motivation.

The characters should have good and sufficient reasons for their actions, and should carry those actions out with plausible skills.
If we don't believe characters would do what the author tells us they do, the story fails.

6. Change.

Characters should respond to their experiences by changing--or by working hard to avoid changing. As they seek to carry out
their agendas, run into conflicts, fail or succeed, and confront new problems, they will not stay the same people. If a character
seems the same at the end of a story as at the beginning, the reader at least should be changed and be aware of whatever
factors kept the character from growing and developing.

The Character Résumé
One useful way to learn more about your characters is to fill out a "résumé" for them--at least for the more important ones.
Such a resume might include the following information:

Name:

Address & Phone Number:

Date & Place of Birth:

Height/Weight/Physical Description:

Citizenship/Ethnic Origin:

Parents' Names & Occupations:

Other Family Members:

Spouse or Lover:

Friends' Names & Occupations:

Social Class:

Education:

Occupation/Employer:

Social Class:

Salary:

Community Status:

Job-Related Skills:

Political Beliefs/Affiliations:

Hobbies/Recreations:

Personal Qualities (imagination, taste, etc.):

Ambitions:

Fears/Anxieties/Hangups:

Intelligence:

Sense of Humor:

Most Painful Setback/Disappointment:

Most Instructive/Meaningful Experience:

Health/Physical Condition/Distinguishing Marks/Disabilities:

Sexual Orientation/Experience/Values:

Tastes in food, drink, art, music, literature, decor, clothing:

Attitude toward Life:

Attitude toward Death:

Philosophy of Life (in a phrase):

You may not use all this information, and you may want to add categories of your own, but a résumé certainly helps make your
character come alive in your own mind.

The rsume can also give you helpful ideas on everything from explaining the character's motivation to conceiving dramatic
incidents that demonstrates the character's personal traits. The resume serves a useful purpose in your project bible, reminding
you of the countless details you need to keep straight.

When writing fiction, one of the greatest challenges is to come up
with compelling characters that both interest the reader and fit
the story. On the surface, fitting the story might seem like the
lesser of the two considerations, but it really isn't. Beyond being
interesting, the character must also be the type of person who
will respond to your plot. Whatever the action of your story is, it
needs to matter to your characters. You have to care about why
these things are happening to this character, and take great
interest in what the character will do, or will fail to do, about it.

Most people's ideas for a character begin with some spark. That
spark can come from anywhere: A voice, a look, a profession, a
line of dialog, or a plot you want that character involved in.
Whatever that original aspect is, that is what you need to explore
first. Expand upon that dialog; describe that voice. Whatever the
first spark of life is, explore it until it begins to take shape.

Once you have moved beyond the first spark, you need to create
a picture of that character in your mind. This starts out very
simply. Are they male or female? Does he have a bald spot? Does
she wear glasses? What kind of clothes do they wear? How old
are they? These are all very basic questions, but it is surprising
how often they are ignored.

Next, explore the character's background. What is their
profession? Does the person even have a job? Where do they
live? What is their family like? What kind of friends do they have?
What kind of things do they own? This last question can be very
telling. You can approach it from several angles. What is in their
home? What is in their office at work? What do they carry in their
pockets? How many keys do they have?

Once you reach that point, it's time to dig a little deeper. Ask
yourself, what makes this character interesting, compelling,
different? Try to come up with a single-sentence description that
will vividly show a reader what kind of person this is. This isn't
necessarily the way you will describe them when you sit down to
write out your story, but it's important to have a clear image in
your mind.

Some people would consider putting this earlier, but really, until
you have all these details, I would not get too anxious to name
the character. If a name has already come to mind, great, but until
now the character doesn't absolutely need a name. At this point
though, it becomes important. You know who they are, you know
what they're like, now give them a name. Names should match
the character, but without being cliché. A boxer named "Punch"
is a little silly. Sure, a nickname may spring up that mirrors the
character's personality, but the name itself should only suit the
character, not pigeonhole them. Whole volumes can be written
on naming characters alone, but suffice to say that buying a book
of baby names and going through it until you find one that feels
good will work.

Now you can try all sorts of ways to get further into your
character's head. Interviewing the character is a good step. Ask
them questions as if you're a reporter for Rolling Stone, People,
or a magazine appropriate to your character's background. Ask
them about themselves. Let them speak. If you have other
characters in the story, ask them about your character. What do
they think about this person? Do they see him or her differently?

Another way to explore your characters can be to visualize them
in the midst of their everyday activities. How do they wash their
clothes? What route do they take to work? What stations do they
pick out on the radio? How do they act at a party? How do they
respond to their boss? What kind of expression is on their face?
Do they smile often, or rarely? Picture the character five or ten
years ago, and five or ten years in the future. Where will they be,
and how will the circumstances of this story effect that?

After you've created your character, it's important to remember
that they need to be treated as individuals with their own needs
and agendas. Don't make a character violate their basic nature
just to suit the plot. If this character's actions would change your
plot too much, you need to either re-examine the plot, or create a
more suitable character. Allow your characters to have quirks
and contradictions though. Most people have a thousand little
contradictions.

The most important advice I can give is to respect your
characters. Treat them as important people, whether you like the
individual character's personality or not. Remember that their
feelings matter to them. What happens to them is important to
them. If you don't find your character compelling and worthy of
exploration, how can you expect a reader to?

"The X-Factor is that thing that distinguishes
the artist from the workman, the journeyman from the master..."

The X-Factor:
Key To Creating Believable Characters

Successful adult and children's fiction writer, Don Whittington, reveals
three key ingredients for good chracterization.

By Don Whittington

Condensed from a live presentation

One man's characterization is another man's cardboard. It's as simple as that. I firmly believe that every half-way competent
writer writes effective characterization for somebody. For any ordinary work there are a finite number of readers who will fee
the writer builds three dimensional story character.

Yet, hard reality kicks our teeth in. The rejection letters begin to mount. We re-write, and re-submit, and eventually we're
getting personal rejections that say things like:

"...but the story people never really came alive for me..."
"...I never really bought into the hero's motivation..."
"...good story, but the characterization seems flat to me..."

What we don't always realize as we grouse in the depths of rejection and disappointment is that each response--and thousands
of similar ones--tell us the single most critical thing about characterization. Note the words, "for me,""I never," and "to me. All
personal, all singular, all selfish

Writing is about "us": the human condition, the need for exploration and art. Reading is about "me": my need to be swept away
and entertained. So one day that same book rejected by a dozen previous editors, suddenly sells to someone who believes in
your characters and doesn't care what anybody else thinks. You found the right editor. Why? How?

Well, the fact is no matter how well you write, some people think you did it right, and the rest think you're a hack. The trick is
to reach more of the first type of reader, and defang the second even if you can't convinced them.

Why this person and not the others? Three reasons:

1.Recognition
2.Agreement
3.The X-Factor

It is almost certain you can hit all three marks with somebody on almost any piece of work, no matter how bad. Simple
numbers tell us that. The trick is to increase the chance you'll hit all three for a larger, more broad-based audience.

So let's look at these three things and see if what I'm saying makes sense to you. Analyze what you do and adapt it in the most
manipulative, cold-blooded fashion you can to increase your chances of a fond reception and--not a minor side effect--your
chances of selling.

Before we do, let's look at some basic don'ts.

Don't try to describe your character all at once. Men often say a woman is more alluring when provocatively dressed than when
totally nude. (Whether they mean that is another thing.) Face it, looking at a nude, one has a tendency to think, "Yep, I've seen
that somewhere before." Ditto characterization. A hint is better than an explanation. It is always better to tell too little than too
much.

Do not try to define a character by reference to a famous character from another work or the movies. This is lazy shorthand
which editors and critics hate. It is more interesting to say your character's face had jowls that hung like misplaced mud-flaps
than to say he looked like Nixon.

Don't eschew stereotypes for minor characters and walk-ons. Stereotypes exist because there is a grain (sometimes a boulder)
of truth to them. They are useful and valuable and all professional writers use them. You should too.

Don't psychoanalyze. There is entirely too much of this in fiction. It's a lot like the coach who commented on why he didn't
believe in passing. "There's only four things that can happen when you throw a pass and three of them are horrible." Ditto,
psychoanalysis. Unless you're a shrink, you stand a great chance of getting it wrong. Unless you're s genius, you're going to
bore your reader. And unless your uncle runs Random House, you're not going to sell it.

Don't use flashbacks if you can help it. Flashbacks can certainly work, but more often they simply stop the story.

Don't forget that your character has his own point of view and that how he reacts to stimulus does more to define his character
than anything you could tell us by way of explanation.

Enough of the kindergarten stuff. Let's move on.

1. Recognition

When Frances of Assisi attained sainthood there was undoubtedly some guy back home who said, " Saint Frances, my ass!"
People believe what they already know or what they want to know. People rarely change their mind about a person just
because the evidence says their opinion is wrong. If I really like someone the fact that you think he's a jerk bears no weight.
Equally if I can't stand a guy don't waste your time telling me how nice he is to dogs and children; however, if you tell me that
you saw him shoot Kennedy, I'll say I never doubted it. It's the way we are. People are filled with prejudices of all kinds, and
they extend beyond who we like and dislike to what we accept as true and accurate depiction's of the human condition.

Recognition is a two- way street. For every person who thinks Scarlett O'Hara is an exciting, complex heroine there is a reader
who finds her selfish, shallow and silly because she knows someone just like her. For every fan of a book there is a naysayer
who scratches his head and wonders how such abominable trash could ever get published. If we recognize this going in, then
we as writers can manipulate this to our advantage. Who is our intended audience and how are they likely to feel about x, y or
z? It doesn't take a genius to figure these things about.

People today often are mistrustful of large corporations; they see themselves and their friends laid off after years of service then
read in the papers how profits are up and the executives receive huge bonuses. Here's a secret: there are more workers than
executives in the marketplace. So when you paint your corporate exec as a heroic philanthropist, hero to millions, defender of
the poor, you are writing against the grain. Remember that editors are also worker bees with low salaries and the same fears
the rest of us have. You may still sell, But the odds are fewer people will buy into your characterization because your hero is
not recognizable.

Does this mean you should write cliche'd characters? No. But it does mean you have to understand your audience.

I once wrote a scene in which a group of women vying for the same job were depicted as being sisterly and supportive. Some
male critics said, "baloney," these women would have been one step short of clawing each other to death." Women critics said,
"Hah! This scene is exactly right because that's the kind of giving, saintly creatures women are." Who was right? Well, I suspect
both were. In real life I've seen both scenarios often enough. I've seen women acting in the most unselfish ways, and I've seen
women cattier than a mehitabel. But as a writer I made a conscious decision to present it the way I did because I knew my
principal audience would be women! I believed, rightly or wrongly, that while women might accept either scenario, the catty
one is cliche'd. Because the other is not cliché, yet is also true, I believed women would recognize it as such as be pleased by it.
That recognition, coming early in the boo, gains the reader's respect for the story's view of the world. And since I am almost
certain to write something later to conflict with the reader's view of the world, I need that reader's respect so she will give me
the benefit of the doubt and believe in my characters.

To approach recognition in the most mechanical, cold-blooded, hack fashion look for ways to adapt your earliest scenes. Think
of something unusual that your Uncle Bob always did at dinner and use that in the early dinner scene. It doesn't matter much
what it is. It's enough to know that most of us had an Uncle Bob, who did some odd thing at the table. Recognition! Don't just
show the family sitting around the kitchen talking--a cliché--but rather show us the two smudges in the wainscoting from where
Pa always propped his chair back as he held forth. Recognition!

An example: everybody nowadays pumps their own gas, right? You've got a character who is dissatisfied with modern life. He
hates the lack of a work ethnic, he hates the violence in modern life, he hates the way the ordinary person carries the weight of
everything from taxes to wars. You could tell us all that, or you could follow the scene where he's chewed out by his boss by
showing him pumping gas. It's a new pump where he just shoves in his credit card. He never sees another person. It pisses him
off. These companies--these big corporations so similar to the one he works for (we all work for) --not only don't care about
us, they don't even want to see us. Just give us your money and get lost. He remembers the old days when they washed your
windows and checked your air. He goes to the service island and demands a set of steak knives. The skinny, pimpled kid
inside, the one behind the bullet- proof glass, stares at him in horror and confusion as our deranged hero pounds on the tiny
counter demanding his flatware. A scene like this is loaded with recognition factors, and it declares our customer's
state-of-mind without clobbering the reader over his head.

We've don all that while still keeping the reader involved, entertained and amused. Most readers, anyway, and that's the point.

2. Agreement

If I don't agree with you, well, that's what makes horse races. But if you don't agree with me, you're an asshole. My opinion is
something I choose to share or not, whereas, your opinion can only manifest itself through the act of you foisting it off on me.
We, as writers, are by the very nature of our product opinion givers. We are the foistest with the mostest. We cannot help
ourselves.

Editors who reject based on characterization probably didn't agree with the way you presented the story. "He would never
have reacted like that. You didn't justify his change. No one would ever blow up Disneyland." (Satire is an exception. Satire is
always an exception). You did something with which the editor doesn't agree.

Let's go back to our ladies vying for a job. Consider the men's reaction to the scene. Should the book ever be published a lot
of men will react the same way and will never finish reading it, or if they do, might think, " What an idiot." They don't agree that
this scene would happen this way.

Now let's look at the women. Their agreement--based on their recognition of the scene as being one of many accurate
representations--is presumed. But what if the women vying for that job are all starving to death, and the lives of their children
depend upon their getting it? Now how does that lady reader react? She doesn't buy it, that's how she reacts. She doesn't
agree that such characterization is accurate for these circumstances. Therefore recognition cannot always save you. Remember
what I said before, that I've seen women acting both ways. So have men, of course. As a writer it would behoove you to write
the scene differently, taking into account these new motivations. And given these motivations I suspect "catty" would still be
wrong; first because it's cliché, and second because panicked desperation seems more likely.

The loveliest examples of agreement occur when a churchgoer reflects on something the reader always knew but never
articulated. Robert Frost says, "Home is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in." That has force and
power because even though we never thought about it, in our gut we know it to be true. We agree. When Robert Duval says,"
I love the smell of Napalm in the morning," he is being melodramatic. Even though we instantly "recognize" this kind of asshole,
we don't agree. (More on this example later.) However, when George Carlin says "Urinals are not universal," women don't get
it. Men go, " Oh yeah, they wouldn't be, would they?" When the preacher and Tom Joad in Grapes Of Wrath talk about how
much sex a preacher gets we are looking at agreement. Somehow deep inside we always suspected in our heart of hearts that
those fire and brimstone sermons were getting the ladies worked up, but chances are we never actually thought about it.

The entire theme of Catch 22 is based on our agreement that when you get right down to it, everybody's crazy.

A good way to distinguish between recognition and agreement is that the first is based on experience, and the second is based
in logic. Agreement can also mean approval, as in the notion that you agree with Joseph Heller's point in Catch 22. But it can
also mean disapproval, as when a military man says such reasoning is simplistic. But note that he doesn't necessarily disagree
with the observation! He just rejects the implied reasoning that says that all we need to do to end war and suffering is to stop
fighting. In other words, he says, " Yes, damnit," I know war is crazy, but what are we supposed to do? Let ourselves be
enslaved?"

No matter how crazy or wild your character's actions may be, they must proceed from your character's own logical (if peculiar)
point of view. None of us would agree to shoot Lenny through the head, but all of us agree that, for George, there is no other
choice. That's why Of Mice and Men is a classic, powerful book. We "recognize" that George's love for Lenny is genuine, and
we agree that his reason for shooting Lenny arises from impeccable logic--for George.

3. The X-Factor

Apocalypse Now was a strange, artsy movie that the critics adored and that millions of others, including me, couldn't stand.
Out of that whole experience, one line became immortal.

"I love the smell of napalm in the morning."

Almost everybody remembers that line, and upon hearing it, can tell you immediately what movie it comes from, even people
who never saw it.

Why does this ridiculous line work? It works because of the X-Factor.

What does that mean?

I don't know. But I know it when I see it.

The X-Factor is that thing that distinguishes the artist form the workman, the journeyman from the master. How does it break
out in real terms? How is it achieved? I have a recipe right here:

Luck: 50%
Talent: 2%
Blind luck: 48%

Talent has little to do with discovering the X-Factor, but you have to have some. It was our talent that led us writers to try
writing. We are not normal. Why? Because we are talented in a way that others are not. Do you think that carpenters hammer
secretly at night building houses in their backyard? Houses they are afraid to show anybody because someone might think they
are not talented? No. They don't need our validation to be carpenters. They just do it. My point is that to uncover the X-Factor
you must indulge your own unique talent. Be as modest as you like at the cocktail party, but when you pick up that keyboard
remind yourself that there has never been another writer like you in the entire history of creation. Set yourself free.

The X-Factor works something like this. You babble along on your computer like always and then this thing comes out of your
head that surprises you. You look at it and notice that it makes little sense. It doesn't follow naturally from what has gone
before. It's the sort of thing that will get you crucified in a writer's critique group. Ninety-nine out of every hundred editors will
hate it. If you had to explain what it meant, you might not be able to. But it has one thing that none of the rest of your work can
claim. You know absolutely and positively that it is exactly right! That's your talent talking, and you better listen to it. You have
just uncovered the X-Factor.

The X-Factor appears in other aspects of your writing than characterization, but we will constrain this discussion. In
characterization, the X-Factor is that thing that grabs a reader so strongly that he never--never--forgets. It can appear in
dialogue:

"Tell me again about the rabbits, George." --Of Mice and Men
"I never drink...wine." --Dracula
"Round up the usual suspects." --Casablanca
"Please, sir, may I have more." --Oliver Twist (Theme and character in six words)
"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." --Gone With the Wind
"Let you among you who is without sin cast the first stone." --(Is there anything else you need to know about Christ?)

The X-Factor can also appear in scenes:

Hannibal Lecter smells Clarice from his antiseptic, high-security cell. --Silence of the Lambs

Whitewashing a fence. --Patriot Games (hah-hah)
Rusty washing the blood from the blunt instrument as his wife enters the basement. --Presumed Innocent (This is a double treat
in that the mystery is solved and all his actions as a character are explained in one stroke).

Or it can appear in any old fashion:

I am born. --David Copperfield (We know that whatever follows will be complete and exhaustive.)

I, The Jury --Even a title can have the X-Factor. Anything you need to know about Hammer after that?

The X-Factor can be anything, everything, and it can appear everywhere. Every now and then the world picks up on a thing
and there's no explaining it. I call it the X-Factor. Whatever you call it, it is there. And sometimes it makes all the difference.

How do you take advantage of it? This is probably the easiest of the three elements to exploit. All you have to do is indulge
yourself. Lose your fear. Allow the artist inside you some space to breathe. Every single writer represents a unique and
independent point of view. Nothing like you has ever trodden the earth before, or ever will again. Invest your work with your
personality; give your characters the benefit of your singular slant on life. Chances are it will be something people have never
seen before, and that's what we all look for when we read. We want to go somewhere new.

How important is it? I think when an editor says things like, "You're not quite there," or "This book just doesn't have IT," what
they're talking about is the X-Factor. Can you write a good sellable book without it? Absolutely. But to me, this is the spice of
our literary stew, the unexpected flavor that leads us to a second helping.

In the long run the X-Factor is you, your passions, your fears, your melancholy. Anybody can write like Agatha Christie,
Stephen King, John Grisham, ad nauseam. But no one ever did until they came along, just as nobody can write like you, until
you do it.

About The Author:

Adult titles by Donald Whittington:

Blood Coin, HarperPaperback, 1994
Grim Weeper, HarperPaperback,1995

Children's works by Don Whittington:

Werwolf Tonight, Avon, 1995
Empire Mom, Avon,1995
Spook House, Avon, 1995

Forthcoming releases by Don Whittington:

Zombie Queen, Avon, March, 1996
Freak Show, Avon, June, 1996

Don Whittington is represented by: The William Morris Agency, New York