My debut novel, Husband in Hiding, begins with a flashback, highlighting how the protagonists met as children. When I first wrote it, I wanted to allow for some room to guess whether or not the little girl was actually the woman the story follows, Minka, until the big reveal a few chapters later. In my mind, it added to the suspense and intrigue of the opening.
But my editor didn’t see it that way.
At the top of her list of revisions, she instructed me to identify the girl, popping my bubble of having such a build-up. Being inexperienced, I emailed my publisher straight away to try to appeal the direction, but he agreed that the prologue was no place to withhold the crucial information.
Even so, I was determined to try the game again. In my second book, Forgetting My Way Back to You, I named a character in the prologue but left everything about him a mystery, though it was a love story. Working with a different company and editor, I didn’t get any push-back over it, which made me giddy. I imagined readers paging through the book, anxious to learn the character’s identity until he was unmasked in the end.
While a few gave me the kind of feedback about him that I hoped for, more readers than not missed the “bombshell” altogether. In my disappointment, I reflected on the reason it didn’t hold the gravity I anticipated, and I realized my lack of embellishing on his background didn’t permit people to connect with him. Thus, they forgot about him by the epilogue, making the revelation anti-climactic.
Needless to say, this taught me the need to properly identify my characters instead of using them to play with readers’ heads. As I’ve shared on this blog before, we authors are our characters’ biggest proponents. Even if we’d classify our work as plot-driven, we still need our characters to resonate with readers so that the plot matters to them.
A few months ago, I found myself on the opposite end of the picture with a movie I watched. The previews looked great, promising edge-of-your-seat action, which it did indeed have. From the beginning, however, it left you to wonder who the protagonist really was and the motivations of everybody around her. Hence, it was difficult to follow most of the flick because I couldn’t differentiate who was working with whom and what their interests were. Rather than engaged with the thriller, I was primarily confused by it.
Does this mean our characters have to be one-hundred percent transparent, with no secrets from the reader? Of course not. Part of what hooks an audience is the fact that characters have secrets, and they want to unravel them. As stated earlier, however, they need to connect with the character—for good or bad—for those secrets to matter to them.
For instance, you might have a character that’s a mere silhouette, lurking behind corners. If they’re only mentioned once, readers likely won’t care much about who it turns out to be. On the other hand, describing its habits, how it interacts with other characters, and hinting to his personality will make your audience form a relationship with him, even if he doesn’t have a name.
Book stores often feature sections with character-themed memorabilia, where young and old alike buy apparel, home décor and beyond to display affection for these people who were once figments of someone’s imagination. This is a testament to the bond that can form between readers and the characters we create. If we define them well, they can become the villain people love to hate, the mysterious stranger they’re anxious to nail down, or the friend they’ve always wanted.
Speaking of characters,
don’t miss my series of Accidental Allies character spotlights,
beginning October 19, 2023!
KarinaBartow.com 