by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell
W. C. Fields as Wilkins Micawber; Freddy Bartholomew as David in MGM’s David Copperfield (1935)
When it comes to minor characters, what you don’t want is the bland leading the bland. That’s why I call minor characters “spice.” Just the right amount can turn an average reading experience into a tasty delight. It’s the difference between plain yogurt and Rocky Road, or chicken broth and mulligatawny.
Minor characters, as I use the term, are to be distinguished from Main and Secondary characters.
Main characters are Rick, Ilsa, Laszlo, Louis in Casablanca. They have the most to do with the plot.
Secondary are recurring characters who have some importance to the plot, like Major Strasser and Sam the piano man.
Minor characters are those who appear for various reasons to complicate or relieve matters (comic relief is a great tool in thrillers and suspense). In Casablanca there are a number of these, from Ugarte (Peter Lorre) to the desperate Bulgarian wife (Joy Page) to Carl the waiter (S. Z. “Cuddles” Sakall).
A subset of minor characters are those who appear once, necessary to a scene. Taxi drivers, doormen, barbers, and the like.
Consider now the uses of minor characters.
Essential Plot Information
There are any number of times when a main character needs some inside information. The cliché is the shoeshine guy who knows what’s happening on the street.
My favorite send-up of this trope is from the old TV show Police Squad, starring Leslie Nielsen as the cop. He gets into the shoeshine chair and slips Johnny a bill to tell him what’s what. The hilarious part is that while Johnny knows everything going on crime-wise, he also knows everything about everything. So when a priest sits down and asks, “What do you know about life after death?” Johnny answers, “I wouldn’t know anything about it.” The priest slips him a bill. Johnny says, “You talking existential being or anthropomorphic deity?”
It is Ugarte in Casablanca who delivers the MacGuffin to Rick—the letters of transit.
Deepening Main Characters
How a main character interacts with a minor character can reveal a great deal.
Here’s some advice from James “The Love Doctor” Bell. If you plan to get married, observe how your intended treats the server in a restaurant, or the checkout person at the grocery store.
What I call the “Pet the Dog” beat can be used for this. Think of Dr. Richard Kimble in The Fugitive (see my post here). He takes a risk to help a dying boy in the hospital, even though it leads to more trouble.
Or Rick, who helps the husband of the Bulgarian wife get the money they need to buy papers, instead of her having to sleep with Louis to get them. Louis observes this and makes note of it. More trouble for Rick.
Setting Richness
A minor character can lend color to an unfamiliar setting. This is a good addition to description. Seeing and hearing characters in their element adds to the tone and feel of a scene.
In the Harrison Ford movie Witness, John Book (Ford) is a cop who has to hide out among the Amish to avoid assassination and protect the Amish boy who can identify a murdering cop (played by Danny Glover). His interactions with various characters and their ways are evocative:
Scene Tension
Here’s an underused tip: put two minor characters in opposition in a scene as the main character is trying to advance the plot. In Long Lost I have two elderly women who volunteer at the reception desk of a local hospital. As my main character attempts to gain access, the two of them, dubbed Curls and Red by the main, snipe at each other, adding a further obstacle. I got this idea from my great aunts, one a widow and the other a divorcee, who lived together. When I’d visit, they’d put out the See’s candy and give each other little verbal jabs as they recalled family stories.
Plot Juice
Raymond Chandler famously said that if things get slow, just bring in a guy with a gun. Of course, it doesn’t have to be a guy or a gun, but a minor character with something of importance.
Hammett does this in The Maltese Falcon. Spade has had no luck finding the black bird. Then one night a man riddled with bullets stumbles into his office, hands him a bundle, and dies. Turns out the stiff is the captain of a ship and the bundle is, you guessed it, the falcon.
Wrapping Up a Mystery
Sometimes you get to the end of a book and there are plot threads that need to be accounted for (you pantsers know what I’m talking about!). Now what?
Well, a minor character can show up with the essential information. You can create such a character on the spot. But then you have to do something else—go back into the book and find a scene or two to plant this character. Otherwise, it will be a Deus ex machina.
I’ll leave you with a couple of tips for creating memorable minor characters.
Avoid stereotypes. They are usually the first picture to spring to mind because we’ve seen them so many times before. The bartender wiping a glass. The truck driver in boots and cowboy hat or baseball cap. Just take a moment to change things up. Maybe the bartender knits. Maybe the truck driver is a woman who likes dresses. You’re the writer, come up with something new.
Tags of manner and speech. Give each minor character one unique tag of manner and one of speech. Dickens was a master at this. Think of Uriah Heep, always rubbing his hands together and smarmily talking about how ’umble he is. Or Wilkins Micawber, who always uses twenty words when five would do. David describes him as—
a stoutish, middle-aged person, in a brown surtout and black tights and shoes, with no more hair upon his head (which was a large one, and very shining) than there is upon an egg, and with a very extensive face, which he turned full upon me. His clothes were shabby, but he had an imposing shirt-collar on. He carried a jaunty sort of a stick, with a large pair of rusty tassels to it; and a quizzing-glass hung outside his coat,—for ornament, I afterwards found, as he very seldom looked through it, and couldn’t see anything when he did.
That’s how you major in minors.
Who are some of you favorite fictional minor characters? How about in you own fiction?
Sheriff Lucie interviews the hopelessly verbose Cyrus Moody:
Lucie tries to be patient and fails. “Just tell me what you did that day.”
“Why, I got my golf cart stole, that’s what I did.”
“When did you find out it was stolen?”
Cyrus looked at her over his spectacles again. “Soon as I went to get in it, of course.”
Lucie gritted her teeth. I really, really want to get up and clout the old fart, she thought, stifling the urge . . . “Did you notice anybody around the front or rear of the store?”
“You mean, somebody suspicious? Somebody hanging around, mumbling, “Golly, Ned. I think I’ll steal me a golf cart? Of course not . . . but I seem to recall seeing Sasquatch Freddy.”
“Sasquatch Freddy? What was he doing at the market?”
“Taking a pee in the phone booth, I think. I’m not sure. I didn’t look real close…”
“Hopelessly verbose.” I like that.
Andrew and Bianca are actors; Kary is a visiting writer; having dinner on set:
—
“I saved you pie.”
The voice at his shoulder made him jump—he hadn’t expected ambush here, in the mess, where most people were now used to having him around and almost ostentatiously didn’t fuss. He raised his gaze. “Ye startled me. Penny, right?”
“I saved it for you. The pecan pie goes fast, and I noticed you like it.” She set the plate alongside his tray. “Oh. I see. You already got some.” Disappointment tinged her voice.
“What station do ye work, Penny?”
“Desserts.” She pointed.
“Tell ye what. Next time, I’ll get it from ye. Good?”
Her face lit up. “Sure. That’d be fine. I’ll make sure we have some. Shall I—?” She reached for the plate.
“Not so fast!” He laughed with her. “But ye can’t give me two any more—or they’ll be pouring me into the colonel’s breeches, ye understand? Wardrobe will have a—a conniption?”
“Yes, sir!”
He watched her walk away with a bounce to her step. Such a small thing. Beautiful American girl, skin the color of Dutch roast with real cream.
“You made her day.” Kary’s voice brought him back to the table.
“She’ll tell all her friends,” agreed Bianca. “Fan for life.”
“Charmin’ young one—she’ll be having me as big as a house.” He inspected the extra pie. “Ladies?”
Ehrhardt, Alicia Butcher. PRIDE’S CHILDREN: PURGATORY (Book 1 of the Trilogy) . Trilka Press. Kindle Edition.
—
A reviewer said: “…3. You are taken behind the scenes, literally, of the making of a Hollywood movie, and introduced to …wait for it…Penny the dessert girl. It’s the interaction of the big stars with HER that spoke to me the most about the incredibly fine line ALL of them have to walk to retain their privacy, and yet be courteous persons of integrity.”
Yes, that’s the way it’s done!
Okay. I have italics. text
Now how do I ensure an indentation at the beginning of each paragraph? I put three space in front of each – and they got eaten, making it harder to see where each new character’s paragraph starts.
The other alternative is to add a blank line between paragraphs. Formatting nerd here.
Thanks.
Google “HTML text indent”
I did. Thanks. I’m horrified. 🙂
I do that for my ultimate epub formatting for publication, css and all. And have to relearn it every time, because it takes me so long to write a novel.
Think I’ll just go with the extra blank line between paragraphs for short excerpts.
Also interesting when writing books in a series. A minor character in one story might become a secondary in another. So I like the idea of giving the minor character a certain trait of manner and speech–a building block for when they show up bigger in another story.
Right, BK. Janet Evanovich does this in the Stephanie Plum books.
How a main character interacts with a minor character can reveal a great deal.
So true! Even before my villain turned into an antihero, he treated servers and bartenders with the same respect as high rollers. Big tipper, super polite, referred to them by name. It’s one reason why my readers fell in love with Mayhem (my killer). And why, I had to morph him into an antihero, though he still kills. 😉 Love complicated main characters!
Love that, Sue. It’s like what happened with Harry Lime in The Third Man. He became so popular they gave him a radio series!
This post is EXACTLY what I needed to read today. Thanks!
Thanks, Janet. That’s why we’re here!
Thanks, Jim, for all the great tips. They will come in handy as I work on changing the plot in my WIP.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day.
Happy St. Paddy’s to you, too, Steve.
May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
Until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand.
And may you be in heaven half an hour
Before the devil knows you’re dead.
Great post, Jim! Worthy of a copy and paste.
We re-watched Cast Away the other night. I was struck by a scene in a brand-new way, which I think fits this discussion.
I’ll just say it this way: I had never cared about volleyballs before watching the scene where Wilson floats away from Chuck (Tom Hanks).
A writer (+ an actor) who can create a minor character out of sports equipment, and make me tear up over losing a volleyball in the ocean is some writer.
Just sayin’…
Masterful, Deb. Teaches us a lot.
In The Scarlet Citadel, Conan is betrayed and condemned to an underground prison. He rescues a wizard named Pelias, who helps Conan escape and win back his throne. Though Pelias wields uncanny magical power, he has a weak spot for wine, which led to his downfall. The relationship between the rough barbarian Conan and the refined, mysterious wizard makes this story one of the greatest works by a master story teller.
Yep, Howard had the instinct for minor characters.
I love the minor character of Johnny the shoe shine guy. “What do you know about life after death?” Johnny answers, “I wouldn’t know anything about it.” The priest slips him a bill. Johnny says, “You talking existential being or anthropomorphic deity?” Perfect example of making the story shine. (pun intended)
Great aunts are great fodder for minor characters. I used a couple of older family members as models for the two spinster sisters in Lacey’s Star. I think their down-home wisdom and humor added spice to the story.
Family members are often a great source, aren’t they, Kay? Taking one trait from one, and another trait from someone else, and combining them into a new character also works.
Another great column! Thank you. I’m reminded of Stephen King’s penchant for introducing sheriffs, cops, and even town drunks, if memory serves me correctly, into short stories and novels as secondary or even just minor passing “devices” to move the story along, and then having them loom large in succeeding works, where it makes the reader feel like he actually knows somebody. I suspect it’s why he has such a varied and wide fan base.