While thinking about the topic of today’s discussion, I checked my Facebook page (where we all get out writing ideas, right?) and came across a post from Cowboys and Indians Magazine on the 50th anniversary of Willie Nelson’s The Redhead Stranger album.
Good Lord, I’m getting old.
If you haven’t heard this LP, just think Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain.
back in 1975, This concept in country music was a departure from Nashville’s unnecessary symphony orchestration, and Willie wasn’t interested in continuing this new wave of music. He wanted to return to his roots. To do so, he came to Garland, Texas, (where I worked as an educator for 35 years) and recorded this “concept” album in a tiny one-room state of the art recording studio only a block from Garland High School (where I taught from 1985-86, and discovered I had no interest in becoming a vice principal at that level).
This album was based on an entire story revolving around the Red Headed Stranger who lost the love of his life. Conceptionally, the entire soundtrack is about Parson Shay, a flawed man who murders his wife and her lover. Consumed by grief and anger, he becomes a fugitive traveling the west, struggling with the guilt of his actions. Full of rage, he also shoots a saloon girl who he thinks is trying to steal his horse.
The following lyric, “You can’t hang a man for killing a woman, who tries to steal his horse,” is a novel unto itself.
Willie stripped down so much of the instrumentation that it sounds like an old-school band playing in a garage. When he sent the tapes to his record company, they thought it was a bare demo and wanted to add all that crap he hated.
Because he had full creative control, Willie insisted on keeping it simple, and that album is now ranked number 183 on Rolling Stone’s list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time and number one on CMT’s 40 Greatest Albums in Country Music.
Not bad for doing what he wanted without interference from others who tend to follow the current trend.
Bill Witliff wrote that wonderful screenplay for a movie based on the album, but you’ll likely recognize one of his more famous movies, Lonesome Dove. Based on the book by Larry McMurtry, Lonesome Dove features two tortured souls, August McCrae and Woodrow F. Call. Gus seeks a lost love, while Woodrow refuses to acknowledge that he loved a prostitute and fathered a child he refuses to recognize.
Many authors explore characters grappling with emotional or psychological trauma that manifests in many ways. This turmoil often stems from loss, or a deep sense of inner conflict, either intentionally revealed by the author, or hinted at through the protagonists’ actions and vague references.
My most recent series featuring Tucker Snow examines a Texas Brand Inspector’s life after his wife and baby are killed by an addict, leaving him to raise a teenage daughter alone. He’s far too impulsive and uses his own brother to step over any imaginary line, laying waste to criminals who, in his opinion, just need killing.
An author doesn’t have to tell readers exactly what drives their characters. The story might, and often does, reveal the emotional issues that drive a protagonist with information revealed throughout the novel.
Mickey Spillane created Mike Hammer, who is driven to seek justice, but he’s a pessimistic creature who survived the Japanese Theater in World War II and struggles to find goodness in the country he fought for.
My good friend John Gilstrap’s Jonathan Grave is another character who seeks justice for all, and his ruthless methods fall outside the law to save hostages most agencies can’t, or won’t save. How do we know what drives Jonathan? Read No Mercy where his backstory is revealed. Is Jonathan flawed? You bet he is.
Aren’t we all?
One reviewer said she particularly enjoyed the “subtle flaws in Grave’s character – flaws he understands and even admits to, but doesn’t necessarily try to correct.”
Other authors have created flawed characters.
Lee Child created Jack Reacher. His major flaw is that he won’t walk off from injustice or a fight. He lays waste to criminals, then moves on to do it again. He prefers isolation, has few social skills, and has an impulsive, extremely aggressive nature.
The Searchers, a novel by Alan LeMay became a John Wayne movie. Amos Edwards (Ethan in the movie) is the most troubled and morally complex character I’ve ever read. Due to a warped sense of honor, Amos is obsessed with finding and killing his captive niece because he believes she’s has been corrupted by her Comanche captors.
Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl has more than one. “Nick is not the charming hero we’re accustomed to in thrillers; he’s a deeply flawed and morally ambiguous figure whose actions leave us oscillating between sympathy and suspicion,” writes fan Riya Bhorkar. “Amy, on the other hand, is a master manipulator, crafting her own narrative with surgical precision and leaving a trail of devastation in her wake.”
In Shane, Jack Schaefer’s protagonist by the same name is a mysterious drifting gunfighter who hangs up his guns and falls in love with his employer’s wife. He returns to his old ways when her husband is provoked into a gunfight. He kills rancher Luke Fletcher, (Ryker in the movie), reverting to his old self. LeMay skillfully leaves enough crumbs for readers to see he has a number of faults before he rides off, wounded and possibly dying.
So who is your favorite flawed character, and/or have you created such fictional protagonists? And let’s go one step further. Are these these character flaws cut from whole cloth, or do they come from within?
There is no comparison, in MY mind, to John D. MacDonald’s Travis McGee.
He has a rough sense of honor – but is amazingly tricky and capable at getting those bad guys (even though he often seems to lose the girl in the process).
His writing is stellar, and he is my best source for how to write that kind of male character.
He’s a great foundation for beginning authors. They should all read him and Spillane, in addition to about twenty more established authors.
Oh, another thing. Darker Than Amber was the first McDonald movie I ever saw. It was fine.
Red-Headed Stranger was the constant accompaniment in our lives back then 🙂 In fact, I named the town in my book Deep Fake Double Down from that song–Blue Rock, Montana.
The characters in that book were big bundles of flaws, at times difficult to write b/c one could be so irritating. Had to back off to make her more likable b/c she was a victim.
Thanks for the memories, Rev. Have an ear worm for the day.
It was the time of the Preacher, in the year of 01. A perfect first sentence for a short story.
Martin Riggs in Lethal Weapon.
From the jump, I conceived my own sereies character, Mike Romeo, as plagued by flaws he’s trying to overcome even as he relentlessly pursues justice.
You mention Mike Hammer. A great example (and no coincidence that my hero shares that name). One Lonely Night is the quintessence of that inner battle Hammer struggles with.
And in Lethal Weapon, we didn’t have to suffer an info dump. His issues came to light during the plot, something budding authors should understand. I’m with you about Riggs, and now I hear they’re making one final Lethal Weapon with both Gibson and Glover resurrecting their roles. I sincerely hope someone who understands aging is writing the screenplay. It COULD be masterful.
I love good solid classic country music–better than any other musical genre at story-telling (aka El Paso, Convoy, & many others) and themes. Funny you bring it up today because last night I was trying to think of country songs that in some way are about standing up for someone (what can I say, the mind goes off on tangents sometimes. 😎 And if an example of one comes to your mind, leave it in the comments–I’d appreciate it!)
RE: Flawed characters: I feel like I’m still learning the art of writing flawed characters–finding that balance. Especially when writing fiction that has a lighter tone and is less morbid and heavy. Goody-Two-Shoes characters don’t work, but it takes practice to learn to work in their flaws and weaknesses in an effective way into the story.
That’s true about perfect characters. They shouldn’t exist. For every action, this is an equal and opposite reaction. We should all remember that in creating our fictional actors.
I’ll try and come up with a song or two for you.
My favorite flawed character is Michael Connelly’s Hieronymous Bosch. His flaw is that he won’t let a case go, no matter the cost to his career and his relationships. He’s a man with a fierce moral code. Everyone matters or nobody matters. He doesn’t break the law, but he inches up to the line so close he’s often accused of it. He set up a camera to record a man he was certain had committed a crime and was on the roof of a nearby building when the suspect is killed by two intruders. He does nothing to intervene. His own career is stymied by his constant battles with superiors over how cases are handled. When I think of Bosch I think of Titus Welliver who did an amazing job personifying the character in the TV series. Now when I read the books I hear his voice. One of the best translations of book series to TV I’ve seen. His back story is that his mother was a prostitute who was murdered, leaving him to grow up in the foster care system. He spends years tracking down her murderer. He’s relentless.
Love Bosch, too. Interestingly, Connelly drew from the real life backstory of fellow crime writer James Ellroy—his mother’s murder when he was a boy remains unsolved.
There’s a world of ideas out there, if we just do the research. However, so many are so weird, our editors might say they can’t happen…
Walter Eckland from “Father Goose” is the first flawed character that came to mind. Cary Grant said he was more like that character than any other he portrayed. I also like Jason Bourne from the first three Bourne movies. And most recently, we enjoyed watching Season 2 of “Andor” on Disney Plus. Cassian Andor (the main character in the Star Wars movie, “Rogue One”) is a deeply flawed character.
Don’t know Eckland I’ll have to give it a look. Thanks!
As for Bourne, his journey is fascinating.
I’m with Mr. Bell . . . Martin Riggs.
He’s so flawed, he’s danged lovable!
🙂
Marty Robbins’ El Paso comes to mind. And all the ones mentioned above, especially Bosh.