by Bev Thomas
For a writer, creating characters that readers want to spend time with, lies at the heart of great fiction. And of course, we don’t have to like a character to believe in them. A character who is psychologically credible can take the reader on a journey anywhere; to both places of hope and joy, as well as darkness and destruction. But what’s the key to writing characters that are authentic and real? How do you bring a character to life?
Before writing my novel, I worked as a clinical psychologist. It was in the quiet stillness of my consulting room that I had the privilege of listening to many complex and often surprising life stories over the years. Often these were extraordinary stories of ordinary people and it was undoubtedly the richness of this world that led me to set my debut novel A Good Enough Mother within the confines of a therapy room.
While the link between the narratives of people’s lives and the narrative in fiction was not lost on me, it was only after writing my book, that I was able to clearly see the parallels. There is an intimacy about the therapeutic process; two people talking in the quiet of a room, and this sense of solitude is mirrored by the intimacy of the relationship between the reader and the life of a character in a book.
With my background in psychology, I have been able to apply the key features of therapy, to the art of story-telling, and in particular to the process of creating authentic characters that are as complex and nuanced as the people we might meet and be intrigued about in real life.
As a clinical psychologist, ‘formulation,’ is the tool that underpins all work with clients. At its heart, it’s a way of reaching a shared understanding about a person’s difficulties in the context of their life. In the room with my client, I worked collaboratively to understand their own particular story. I asked specific questions, teasing out their story both in the past and present, finding out how they had coped (or not) with their difficulties along the way. It was my job to listen, and to ‘bear witness’ to the story, it was also my job to draw links between past and present, and to frame what they said using psychological models and theory. Like a detective, it was my role to piece together the evidence together, twisting a kaleidoscope of often random, fragmented and disjoined pieces into a pattern that made a coherent picture.
I have identified 5 elements in the therapy process that can be applied to the writing of authentic characterization in fiction.
1/ Drives and motivations. In therapy – we often ask the ‘why now?’ question. It’s a key question that unearths the reason that has prompted them coming to therapy at that particular time. What’s the trigger? And I think novels, regardless of genre must have that kind of trigger to jump-start the story. It might be something big; an accident, the end of a relationship, an affair – or it may be a smaller (but equally devastating); a psychological shift or change that is not obvious from the outside, but one that will change the character in a seismic way. Just as the decision to go to therapy is prompted by something, so too is the beginning of a character’s journey in a book.
2/ The said and unsaid. In the therapy room there is as much focus on what’s left unsaid, or avoided, as well as what’s said. A useful metaphor is the iceberg, where we can see a whole chunk of ice that is shown above the surface, there’s a much larger chunk that remains hidden and submerged underneath. This may be deliberately concealed to others, but also to themselves, and a window into the realm of the unconscious. So, when considering your characters, think about what they might want people to know about, and the things they don’t; things they might feel ashamed or embarrassed about, or the things they may not even be aware of. These hidden depths are the things that make characters complex, interesting and alive.
3/ Anger and conflict and frustration. People don’t come to therapy when life is going well. Therapists see clients at their worst; sad, confused, angry or in distress. And in fiction, as in life, we are generally not captivated by characters’ lives that are happy and perfect. There is no drama here. It’s often how someone behaves in times of difficulty or stress that is the most interesting. How does a character express anger and irritation? Is it outward? Or does it become internalized and fester inside? Try to dig deep and find their dark side, the hidden underbelly of their inner lives.
4/ The past unfolding in the present. A lot of therapy is about understanding the present (ie the presenting problem) with a forensic consideration and understanding of the past. Freud talked about the therapy process as a kind of archeology. The notion of digging and excavation to uncover the ‘truth’ as experienced by the client. In fiction, this relates to the notion of backstory. The past of a central character needs to be very clear to the writer – and while not all of this will end up on the page, there needs to be just enough in evidence, so the way a character behaves on the page will make perfect sense, without being too predictable. Actions that come ‘out of the blue,’ can leave the reader frustrated and unsatisfied – and will somehow break the spell of ‘trust’ that have been set up between reader and writer.
5/ Change is not linear. In therapy, a person is on a journey of discovery and change. But the process isn’t a series of lightbulb moments that translate easily into change and decision. In life, the progress of change can be frustrating, and full of faltering steps, we often rail against emotional truths we have learnt, and can be held back by resistance and denial. And we may go onto repeat the same mistakes again and again…until we learn to stop. In therapy, when the change is overnight, or too quick, a therapist might be left with doubts. Perhaps they are doing it to please me? Or perhaps they are saying it because they want to feel different, want the quick-fix without the hard work or recovery? This can be equally applicable to fiction. Big psychological and emotional shifts in characters cannot happen overnight. If too hurried, or too determined by the needs of the plot, the reader can feel duped, and may lose belief and empathy with a character.
By considering these five areas, it is possible to create characters that have depth and complexity, and a capacity to grip and surprise your readers. Characters that will not only keep the pages turning, but will hopefully linger on in the memory of the reader, long after the book is finished.
Bev Thomas is a clinical psychologist, and draws on her wealth of knowledge about therapy and mental health to craft A Good Enough Mother, a captivating suspense novel about a therapist-patient relationship gone wrong.
