Category Archives: character development

Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn?

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by Debbie Burke

Most people are familiar with “fight or flight” response to a threat. Physiologist and Harvard Medical School chair, Walter Bradford Cannon isolated those two reactions in the 1920s after observing animals in the lab. When animals were frightened or under stress, they displayed behaviors that evolution had programmed into them millions of years before for survival. Faced with a threat, animals either stood their ground and fought the attacker or ran away from it.

Photo credit: Bernard Dupont CC by SA 2.0

 

Our human ancestors developed the same programming. They either grabbed a big stick to fight off the lion or they ran like hell to escape it.

These physiological reactions are involuntary, triggered by the autonomic nervous system. Signs include dilated pupils, heightened hearing, racing heart, rapid breathing, and tense muscles to prepare the body to fight or run away.

“Freeze” is a third possible reaction to threats and wasn’t widely recognized untill the 1970s. Its evolutionary purpose may have been to avoid attracting the attention of a predator. If the prey didn’t move, the predator would hopefully not notice it and walk on by.

Public domain photo

I’ve watched young fawns remain completely still to blend in with cover. However, when deer freeze in the headlights of your speeding car, that option often doesn’t work out well for survival.

Recently I learned about a fourth reaction: fawn. The term was coined by psychotherapist Pete Walker in 2003 to describe behavior intended to appease the threat and avoid being harmed.

Photo credit: Andrew Lorenz CC by SA 3.0

For instance, dogs may roll on their backs and display their bellies to acknowledge the dominance of another dog. Crouching and cowering are also signs of fawning.

This reaction is often seen in human abuse victims who try to please or show subservience to a potential attacker to deflect violence. They also may agree with the threatening person, hoping to head off an argument that could lead to possible abuse.

This article by Olivia Guy-Evans describes physical responses that occur in the body during fight, flight, freeze, or fawn.

While fight, flight, and freeze are instinctual, fawn is a learned behavior, according to Shreya Mandal JD, LCSW, NBCFCH. When faced with chronic stress and threat, some people develop the fawn reaction to survive.

In a June 2025 article in Psychology Today, she writes:

“Rooted in complex trauma, the fawn response emerges when a person internalizes that safety, love, or even survival depends on appeasing others, especially those who hold power over them. It is a profound psychological adaptation, often shaped in childhood, in homes where love was conditional, inconsistent, or entangled with emotional or physical threat.

“For many survivors, especially those from marginalized communities, fawning becomes a deeply embodied pattern. As a trauma therapist and legal advocate, I’ve witnessed this adaptive strategy in clients across many settings: survivors of interpersonal violence, those navigating carceral systems, immigrants shaped by colonial legacies, employees navigating toxic work environments, and children of emotionally immature parents. The fawn is the child who learns to become invisible or overly helpful to avoid punishment. It’s the adult who minimizes their needs in relationships. It’s the employee who fears negative consequences and retaliation. It’s the incarcerated woman who apologizes before speaking her truth in court.”

The person may not consciously be aware of what they are doing. They simply understand they will “stay safe by pleasing the powerful.”

As crime writers, we often put our characters in conflict with others. When you write these scenes, try viewing them through the lens of what Pete Walker calls the “four Fs.”

Do they fight the threat?

Do they flee?

Do they freeze in their tracks?

Do they fawn to appease the attacker?

Their reactions depend on their individual personalities and psychological makeup. Often their behavior is shaped by childhood trauma that conditioned their responses to conflict.

If you’re not sure how your character would react to peril, try writing short sample scenes. In the first example, have them fight. In the second, they flee. In the third, they freeze. In the fourth, they fawn. Which of the four scenes seems the most authentic for your character’s personality and background?

Another prompt to develop your character is to put them in a risky situation and free-write what they do. They may surprise you by reacting in a way you didn’t expect. A character you thought was timid may stand their ground and put up a ferocious fight. A blustering, aggressive character may freeze or fawn when faced with actual danger.

When a character surprises you, dig deeper into the reasons behind their action. Were they the only defense between their younger sibling and an abusive parent? Were they punished without reason or treated unjustly? Did they resolve to never be put in a submissive position again?

Short writing prompts like these help you get to know your character and learn how they react under stress. Their background may not be shown in the story but you, as the author, will better understand how to portray them in an authentic, realistic way.

~~~

TKZers: When confronted with danger, does your main character fight, flee, freeze, or fawn?

~~~

 

Debbie Burke’s new book The Villain’s Journey-How to Create Villains Readers Love to Hate is now for sale in hardcover, as well as ebook and paperback.

Character Building

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By Elaine Viets

When I started writing Sex and Death on the Beach, the first mystery in my new Florida Beach series, I wrestled with a problem I hadn’t had for some time: Creating characters.

All my mysteries have new characters, but when I’m introducing a new series, I have to create characters I can use throughout the series. This took at least five rewrites.

My main character is Norah McCarthy, who inherited a 1920s apartment house in mythical Peerless Point, Florida. Norah was orphaned at age four and brought up by her grandmother, a retired Florodora Girl.

The residents of Norah’s building belong to an exclusive group. They must be Florida Men and Women, but the benign variety. The exploits of Florida Man often include alligators and alcohol. You’ve seen the headlines: “Florida Man Busted with Meth, Guns and Baby Gator in Truck.” The residents are her adopted family, and they will appear in future mysteries.

Bare bones characters

Some characters will probably only appear once in Sex and Death on the Beach. Like Elwin Sanford.

Elwin is “a rotund man in a hardhat, neon safety vest and gray cover­alls. He had a wispy mouse-colored mustache and weedy patches of hair clinging to his sweaty scalp. In fact, with his round body, gray coveralls and twitchy nose, he looked like a cartoon mouse.”

Elwin’s appearance is a clue to his character. A city inspector, he is a crook and looks like one.

Important supporting characters

Norah McCarthy has two live-in staff members at the Florodora apartments. One is the handyman-gardener Rafael, a native of Colombia. In the first rewrite, Rafael is “a dark, stocky man who knows inventive ways to repair ancient machinery, handles maintenance and takes care of the grounds. He keeps the building one step ahead of the city inspectors, who are determined to shut us down. Rafael has a bachelor apartment above the garage.”

Rafael ducks difficult questions by looking confused and saying, “No spik Engleesh.”

At that point, was Rafael a real character?

Not  yet. All I have are the bare bones. Rafael is simply someone who has a few quirky mannerisms.

For the third rewrite, I sat down and wrote a bio of every major supporting character. In that version, my main character Norah chided Rafael when he used his “No spik Engleesh” routine with a cop. Norah tells him:

“Eventually you’re going to get caught, Rafael. You speak excellent English. You were a judge in Colombia.”

Norah instantly regrets her thoughtless remark: “As soon as the words passed my lips I wished I could take them back.

“The sudden sadness in Rafael’s eyes was a terrible rebuke. Rafael fled Medellin in 1986, after Pablo Escobar killed Rafael’s wife and baby son. Grandma hired him, and he’d worked at the Florodora ever since. His ambition died with his family.

“Late at night, I’d often see Rafael sitting on the flat roof of his garage apartment staring at the ocean, as if he could see all the way to his troubled country.

“Rafael never discussed his family’s murders. He hid his heart­break with superficial jokes and his ‘no-spik-Engleesh’ routine.”

I also wrote this bio of Rafael’s red truck: “The old truck rattled and lurched. A loose spring in the seatback poked passengers every time Rafael hit the brakes.

“The air conditioning worked when it felt like it. Whenever the air-con quit, Rafael would give the dashboard a hearty whap and cool air would pour out again.”

The Florodora has five permanent residents.

I’m partial to Billie the banana bandit. Billie held up a convenience store with a banana and stole three overdone dogs from its hot dog roller grill. Billie worries his crime will somehow come to light, even though there was no police report and he ate the evidence.

At first, that’s about all I said about Billie, except he was a movie buff who perpetually held his own personal filmfest.

Billie needed more depth, so I had him write retrospectives about movies. His first book was a New York Times bestseller.

Billie had “turned his obsession into a successful writing career.”

He was currently researching his new film book, Seeing in the Dark. This week it was the Rocky movies, and Billie was looking for the thirty-five goofs and plot holes that were supposedly in the Sly Stallone boxing movies. That’s how he prepared for his work, by looking for the mistakes in the movies.

Billie comes downstairs “wearing baggy jeans and a red Bruce Willis T-shirt that read, “I survived the Nakatomi Plaza Christmas party 1988.”

Nakatomi Plaza. The setting for Die Hard.

Norah tell him, “Let me guess. You’re also doing a Die Hard retrospective for your new book.”

“Yep,” Billie said. “Did you see the first Die Hard movie?’

“It’s been a while, but I liked it.”

“Me, too,” Billie said. “But there are supposed to be more than a hundred mistakes in the first movie alone, and I’m trying to find them all.”

Billie will tell Norah about as many as possible.

Another favorite character in Sex and Death on the Beach is Mickey, the artist. At first, I described Mickey as single, “kind and gentle,” and wearing offbeat clothes, including “a funky orange-striped caftan.”

Boring. Mickey had to be more than a heap of clothes. Readers had to care about her.

So I added, she “works as a freelance artist, but she’s been known to vandalize for a good cause.

“When posters appeared on the local telephone poles insulting black people, Mickey was horrified. She went around Peerless Point, covering the offensive posters with her homemade one, which said, ‘I covered the ugly racist poster here with a cat photo.’

“My favorite prank was what Mickey did in the local gas station bathroom. In the restroom was a wall-mounted infant diaper changing station that pulled down into a changing bed. Mickey put a sign on the plastic baby bed that said, ‘Place sacrifice here.’”

Mickey drives a “powder blue VW Bug with a sign in the back window: ‘Adults on Board. We want to live, too.’”

For this series, I recorded how all my characters got around. Some took the bus or bummed rides, others drove.

The Florida Beach bios total 22 pages single spaced, and describe buildings, apartments, cars and characters minor and major, first and last names. I hope you’ll enjoy them.

Writers, do you use character bios for your books?

Buy Sex and Death at the Beach online. NOTE: Prices may vary. Please check before you buy:

Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/326up5ny

Barnes & Noble: https://tinyurl.com/3tx8x4fb

Thriftbooks https://tinyurl.com/3vk9yhb5.

Or order it from your local bookstores, including Harvard Book Store https://www.harvard.com/book/9781448314799.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Immersion Technique #WriteTip

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Every character is the hero of their own story. Even the villain.

We’ve talked many times about the importance of fleshing out characters. This time let’s reframe the narrative for those who may not grasp the finer details of crafting a compelling villain.

It’s easy to tell a fellow writer to slip into the villain’s skin and view the world through their eyes—I’ve given the same advice—but for those who haven’t mastered characterization, it may not be enough.

  • How does one craft a killer when they’ve never committed a crime?
  • How can we champion a villain’s efforts with no real-world experience?

Sure, we can draw conclusions and make assumptions. Is that enough for readers?

  • Is there a way to pull from life experience, to really feel what it’s like to transform into somebody else?

Yes, there is. And it’s called immersion. Method actors use the same technique.

The dictionary defines immersion as “deep mental involvement.” It can also mean engagement, as in a mixture of how much you’re paying attention, how submerged you are in an experience, and how it affects you emotionally.

Immersion, whether real or imagined, taps into fundamental psychological principles like perception, emotional engagement, and the sense of presence. It involves a combination of sensory stimuli, cognitive engagement, and emotional resonance that creates a feeling of being completely absorbed in the experience.

Immersive experiences are rich and complex, drawing upon personal experiences, and engage with emotions through the manipulation of the five senses. They’re described as transformational, intense, sometimes hectic, and provoking.

What we see tells us a lot about the world around us, but what the body experiences is much more powerful.

How we immerse ourselves in a life unlike our own starts with walking in their shoes. Listen to the villain’s favorite music. Eat their favorite foods. View the world through their eyes.

  • What’s their culture like?
  • What’s their theme song?
  • What’s their religion, politics, and views on other hot topics?
  • Do they like the rain? Cold weather? Scorching hot sun?
  • Are they happy with where they live? Or have they been trying to escape the area for years?
  • What do they do for a living? Do they have buddies at work?
  • Are they body conscious and drink water all day? Or do they drink black coffee till noon, then switch to scotch?
  • Do they smoke? I’m not proposing you start smoking but you can pretend.

Even if the character’s actions rub against your values and beliefs, you must find at least one redeeming quality, or at least be able to empathize with a part of them.

Take Ed Kemper, for example. His mother was a severe alcoholic who favored his two sisters and never missed the chance to belittle him. Ed’s father, a World War II veteran, hated his wife. The couple divorced when Ed was still in grammar school.

Living with his mother was no picnic. She locked him in the cellar for days and/or weeks at a time—alone—a bare lightbulb hanging from a wire in the center of the dark and creepy space. Since the door locked from the outside, the only way out was through a trap door beneath the dining room table.

Trapped, Ed lay on the cold cement floor staring into the flame of the furnace. And it was then, he later told an FBI profiler, he saw the face of the Devil for the first time. That period of his life exacerbated his already fractured mind.

Later, at age 14, his father sent him to live with his grandparents in California. Interestingly, Maude (grandmother) was an extra in Gone with the Wind and a writer for Redbook McCall’s. Even so, Ed hated living there, calling his grandfather “senile” and his grandmother, well, this is how he described her…

“She thought she had more balls than any man and was constantly emasculating me and my grandfather to prove it. I couldn’t please her. It was like being in jail. I became a walking time bomb, and I finally blew.”

And blew he did, with the murder of his grandparents. Authorities sent him to Atascadero State Hospital, a maximum-security facility where doctors subjected him to various tests. One of which illuminated his genius IQ. They also diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic.

In the six years he spent at the institution, he became one of the doctors’ favorite patients. They even allowed him to assist in conducting tests on other inmates, until 1969 when they released him into his mother’s care.

Big mistake. At 6 ft. 9 inches tall and 250 pounds, Ed was a mammoth with a genius IQ and a rage inside him.

After killing and decapitating six young women, he finally turned his wrath on Mother—the true source of his hatred—murdering, decapitating, and using her head as a dartboard. He also tore out Mother’s vocal cords and shoved them down the garbage disposal. When the disposal spat the gristly innards back out, he said to himself,

“That seems appropriate as much as she’d bitched and screamed and yelled at me over so many years.”

With his personal monster dead, Ed turned himself into police. He had no reason to kill anymore. He’s lived at California Medical Facility in Vacaville ever since. As a model inmate, he’s allowed to work as an audiobook narrator.

If Ed Kemper was a fictional villain, how would you make him the hero of his own story?

We’d need to focus on the abused little boy, alone and frightened, that still cried inside him and the personable guy who doctors adored. Does that mean I agree with what he did? Absolutely not. But as writers, we must find a way to justify his actions. We must. Otherwise, the villain will fall flat.

Now, don’t tell the reader what redeeming qualities you clung to while writing. Show them a tidbit here and there—just enough to pique curiosity and drive the plot—that make him feel more human. Or let the hero figure it out on their own.

If the villain is a series character, only reveal enough to intrigue and drive the plot. I did this with my serial killer named Mayhem. In three books, I showed him as a merciless serial killer. I also showed his love of animals, especially his sidekick Poe, the crow, and how tender he could be when caring for a wife stricken with ALS and his close relationship with his daughter and grandson.

Mayhem loves fine wine and is an expert chef, but he’s offended by bad language and numerous other things, especially rapists, cannibals, and child killers. Readers fell in love with Mayhem. Deeply in love. So much so, I had to transform him into an antihero in later books.

Readers understand, even champion, why he kills.

We did the same with Dexter. Who didn’t love to watch him murder other serial killers? Genius on Lindsay’s part.

Find a different angle for your villain. Copycats aren’t unique or memorable. Villains are some of the most difficult characters to craft because they do bad things. I also find villains and antiheroes the most rewarding to write.

The next time you craft a character vastly different from yourself, try immersion. It works for the entire cast, including heroes, sidekicks, foils, secondary characters, etc.

Villains vs. Antagonists

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by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

 (This post is excerpted from my upcoming craft book, The Villain’s Journey ~ How to Create Villains Readers Love to Hate)

What is the difference between a villain and an antagonist? This question confuses many writers.

In the simplest terms: Villains are antagonists, but antagonists are not necessarily villains.

Antagonists don’t have to be bad guys with evil or malicious intent. They simply stand between the hero and the hero’s quest. They are obstacles the hero must overcome to achieve a goal.

Every genre needs antagonists. Without them, a story falls flat for lack of conflict.

Photo credit: public domain

The antagonist can be:

  • A rival (two suitors vying for the same lover)
  • An opponent (two sports teams fighting for a championship)
  • A competitor (Microsoft vs. Apple)
  • A situation or event (earthquake, volcanic eruption, hurricane, flood, wildfire, pandemic, war)
  • Self-doubt inside the hero.

Here are a few examples of antagonists that don’t have malicious intent.

  • In Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea, sharks strip the meat from Santiago’s magnificent marlin. They are hungry, not evil.
  • In Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White, Fern’s father isn’t being mean when he picks up an axe to dispatch a runt piglet. He’s a farmer trying to provide for his family.
  • In Sylvester Stallone’s film Rocky, Apollo Creed isn’t wicked. He’s a boxing champ protecting his title against underdog Rocky Balboa. In fact, the two opponents later become friends.

Various Genre Examples of Antagonists:

Romance needs someone or something that keeps the lovers apart.

  • In Romeo and Juliet, parents forbid the lovers from seeing each other.
  • In Casablanca, Rick, Ilsa, and Victor grapple with conflicts of love, loyalty, and duty during war.

Fiction for young readers often teaches life lessons like how to recover from failure, survive family breakups, or develop self-confidence.

  • Diary of a Wimpy Kid series by Jeff Kinney spans 19 books about middle-schooler Greg Heffley who suffers bullying, struggles with adolescence, and endures the trials of growing up.
  • Harry Potter begins as a powerless, downtrodden orphan. Through seven books, he discovers and develops his powers as a wizard, using his growing knowledge and strength to vanquish foes and come to terms with death.

Charles Dickens – public domain

Historical fiction captures the conflicts of a particular era.

  • Charles Dickens’s novels address social/political issues like children’s rights (Oliver Twist), revolution (Tale of Two Cities), and judicial reform (Bleak House).
  • John Steinbeck’s novels like Grapes of Wrath and Cannery Row spotlight the effects of the Great Depression.
  • In Winds of War and War and Remembrance, Herman Wouk shows families caught in peril during World War II.

Mainstream fiction is an umbrella term for stories that explore the struggles of the human condition:

  • To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
  • Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
  • The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold (features rape and murder therefore could also be considered crime fiction)

Photo credit: NASA

Science Fiction and Fantasy showcase imaginary worlds with unfamiliar, antagonistic  landscapes characters must navigate.

  • J.R.R. Tolkien explores Middle Earth.
  • Harry Potter studies at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
  • Star Trek and Star Wars “go where no man [or woman] has gone before.”

A major challenge for writers is how to characterize a villain without resorting to two-dimensional stereotypes. Snidely Whiplash is fun in cartoons but not all that interesting to crime fiction readers.

Snidely Whiplash

Try reframing the way you look at your villains. Instead of seeing them as evil, think of them first as antagonists. Climb into their skin and see the situation from their point of view.

Most villains feel their behavior, however horrible, is justified. Their reasoning may not make sense to you or me but, to them, it does. They view the hero as a rival, opponent, or competitor who threatens them or stands in the way of what they want or need.

Numerous authors have said, “The villain is the hero of their own story.”

Author Chris Colfer says, “The villain is a victim whose story hasn’t been told.”

Summing up:

Stories require conflict.

Antagonists provide that conflict.

All stories need an antagonist. Not all stories need a villain.

Villains are antagonists, but antagonists are not necessarily villains.

~~~

TKZers: Does your current work in progress have an antagonist or a villain?

As a reader, what do you prefer? Stories with a clearcut villain to boo? Or stories with antagonists who are more difficult to pin down? Or another variation?

~~~

Want to learn more about Debbie Burke’s upcoming book? Click the title for details about The Villain’s Journey ~ How to Create Villains Readers Love to Hate.

Scars Tell a Story #WriteTip

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Close-up of a scarred male lion

Click to Enlarge

While watching my wildlife gorge on peanuts, bread, almonds, dates, and raisins one morning, an impressive male bluejay caught my attention. Tall, well-built, and mysterious. The moment he landed on the food table in front of my window, the scarring on his face came into focus, and I wondered what happened to him.

Scars tell a story, an undeniable truth of the past. Perhaps “Scar” had a run-in with a hawk in his youth. The scars looked old, as though they’d formed during his development years or changed him as a young adult. The feathers atop the usual bluejay markings were much darker — midnight black — the skin obviously disrupted by a traumatic experience.

What was Scar’s wounding event? Did he fight this battle alone? Or did a predator kill his entire family in the nest?

I can only speculate. The answers died long ago.

All in all, Scar is a happy little dude, but also more cautious than the others, which adds some validity to my hypothesis as to how he received the scars. I’m intrigued by Scar, and pray a human didn’t hurt him. He piques my interest. Keeps me guessing about his past.

If Scar was a character in a novel, I could never stop flipping pages until I’d unraveled the mystery behind his scars. The author would have hooked me simply by showing me his face. What seems like a minor detail like a scar adds to the hero’s characterization. And you can bet an emotional scar lurks behind the physical disruption. All species, including humans, are affected by past events.

bluejay on snow

Not Scar. I cannot photograph him while we’re building trust.

Take Scar, for example. He waits for others to sample the food before he takes a bite. He watches how I interact with the other bluejays before he approaches.

He’s careful.

Reserved.

Suspicious of humans or new food sources.

The rest of the party (my favorite collective noun for a group of bluejays) scream with excitement and joy.

Not Scar. He’s quiet. Hangs back. Learns. Only after he’s gathered enough intel to satisfy his inquisitive mind does he feel safe enough to fly closer. I admire that about him. It shows he’s intelligent.

As writers, we’re told to include emotional scars but we also shouldn’t avoid physical scars. And not only for villains. Heroes wear scars, too.

Tattoos are often reminders of a special time in one’s life or symbolize what the wearer loves, embodies, or believes in. They can also help the wearer regain control over a trauma or cover, even enhance, a physical scar.

Years ago, I knew a young woman who was born with a cleft palate and left with scars from the corrective surgery. She never felt beautiful. All she could see were her scars. But she was beautiful, inside and out. Since few could make her see herself through their eyes, she turned to drugs and alcohol and eventually lost her life.

Some say, it’s more difficult for women to deal with facial scars than men. I know from personal experience that isn’t necessarily true. Both men and women try to hide scars public. It’s easier than having to retell — or relive — the story behind them.

Back in 1995, I was involved in a car accident that threw me into the windshield. Half conscious, I opened my eyes while stuck in the glass and tried to break free. The movement tore off my left eyebrow, eyelashes, upper eyelid, a chunk of my nose, split open my upper lip, and cracked all my teeth. The hospital called in a plastic surgeon to repair the damage to the left side of my face. Doctors told me I’d never regrow my eyebrow or eyelashes. For a girl in her twenties, it was devastating news.

I’ve never been one to follow the norm, or listen to doctors who think they can predict the future. Instead, I prayed for a miracle. Little by little, as I picked glass shards out of both eyes for several weeks, tiny hairs filled in my eyebrow and my lashes sprouted new growth. The doctors couldn’t believe it. My progress from the accident to full eyebrow and lashes is now in medical journals.

The emergency plastic surgery left me with scars on my eyelid, nose, and above my left upper lip. If you and I met in person, you might never notice. I only allow those closest to me to see my scars without makeup. When I’m tired, they pop right out. Not sure why scars get more visible then, but I’m not alone…

A dear friend for the last 30+ years got badly injured on a motorcycle when his gas tank exploded. The melted skin covering his right armpit looks like it belongs to Freddy Kruger. And the deep scarring on his forehead and zipper-like indent in his skull are still prominent 40 years after the accident. I love his scars. He wouldn’t be the same man without them.

Not only are scars reminders of past trauma but how one dealt with the injury and pain, then and now.

Like me, my friend also covers his scars in public. Only those closest to him are allowed to see the extent of his old injuries (2nd dimension of character = the person family and friends know). Neither of us regret our scars. They remind us that we’re lucky to be alive, along with all our other physical scars. Doesn’t mean we want to share them with the world (1st dimension of character = one’s public face).

See how a detail like a scar can inform one’s character? Keep it in mind while crafting your hero or secondary characters. Just remember to note them in your story bible, so a scar on the left cheek doesn’t move to the right in subsequent chapters and/or books. LOL

Would anyone like to share their scars and the story behind them? Have you ever seen a scarred bluejay or other backyard bird? I don’t dare photograph Scar until he gets to know me better, or the trust we’ve built may crumble.

What is Your Character’s Wounding Event?

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Characters need personal growth to achieve their goals. If the character seeks to improve themselves in some way — at work, in relationships, or spiritually — or defeat the villain, their fatal flaw will often sabotage early efforts.

Who they are and what they want is at odds with their fatal flaw, which makes it almost impossible to succeed. The character might not even realize they have this flaw until a situation, experience, or event triggers a tsunami of inner turmoil.

Fatal Flaw Defined

A fatal flaw refers to a character trait that leads to their downfall. The term fatal flaw implies the character is heroic and admirable in many other ways. Even the fatal flaw itself could be considered admirable in a different situation but it hinders them in the storyline.

The TKZ archive has several articles about character flaws (here, here, and here, to name a few).

But where does their fatal flaw stem from?

Often, the past is to blame. It doesn’t necessarily need to be from the character’s childhood, though it can be. Was the character abandoned as a child, emotionally, physically, or both? If so, they’d deal with abandonment and/or trust issues as an adult. Or perhaps, their fatal flaw stems from the opening scene in the novel.

What happened to the character to create the inner turmoil within them? We call this the “wounding event,” and it’s crucial to understand the character on an emotional level.

Many factors play a role in determining who we — and our characters — become in life, including environment, mentors/teachers, parents, genetics, and how they were raised. Life is filled with flawed people, all battling their own demons, some more than others. Specific events and long-term exposure to unhealthy ideals, behaviors, and relationships all play a role in shaping a human or fictional character.

The Wounding Event

The most crippling is emotional trauma. Unresolved pain — the wounding event — should impact the character’s life. This defining emotional experience from a character’s past is so debilitating they’ll do anything to avoid that pain again. It colors how they view the world and alters what they believe about themselves and others. The trauma instills a deep fear that it may happen again if the character doesn’t protect themselves.

Or perhaps, your character has a physical defect with long-lasting psychological effects, such as a crippling illness, birth defect, scarring, or disfigurement. The mistaken belief that the character must harden themselves to feel emotionally safe is what allows negative traits to emerge.

The wounding event creates a core belief or insecurity that manifests as a character flaw, causing them to act defensively or in self-sabotaging ways to avoid reliving the pain. The wounding event also refers to a traumatic experience that significantly impacts the character’s psychology and development, or a set of deeply ingrained fears that shape how they interact with the world. It’s the pivotal moment that created the underlying emotional wound that drives their behavior.

Whatever wounding event you choose when crafting a character, it should be hinted at or shown on the page. This will help the reader relate to, and empathize with, the character. It’ll also explain their actions.

At some point in the novel, the character must face their fears — an important scene in the character arc is about confronting and healing from their wounding event.

The ideal placement is about the midpoint. This confrontation within themselves gives the character the inner strength to overcome their fatal flaw and spins the story in a new direction, with a clearer perspective on how to proceed. Or they figure out how to use their fatal flaw to their advantage “through a vein of moral rightness,” as JSB said in an article about character.

Sounds a lot like the mirror moment, doesn’t it? 😉

Secondary flaws can also arise from the wounding event, which will compromise the character’s path and prevent them from reaching their full potential.

Wounds are powerful. Taking the time to probe your character’s past to unearth their wounding event will help you — and the reader — better understand what motivates them and their behavior.

For discussion, what fictional wounding event has stuck with you? To avoid spoilers, only include the title if the wounding event occurs early in the novel.

Or tell us about your character’s wounding event and the fatal flaw that followed.

Characters: Round and Flat

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“You can never know enough about your characters.” —W. Somerset Maugham

* * *

In his work Aspects of the Novel, E.M. Forster introduced the concept of round and flat characters (i.e., three-dimensional and two-dimensional.)

Round Characters

Basically, round characters are defined by their complexity. They are likely to have complicated personalities and wrestle with life’s issues.

According to masterclass.com,

“A round character is deep and layered character in a story. Round characters are interesting to audiences because they feel like real people; audiences often feel invested in these characters’ goals, successes, failures, strengths, and weaknesses.”

Characters cited as examples of roundness are Elizabeth Bennet in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, Jay Gatsby in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, and Huck Finn in Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Forster says most Russian novels are filled with round characters. He believed all the principal characters in War and Peace and all of Dostoevsky’s characters are round. Russian authors are apparently fond of complexity.

When we discuss characterization on TKZ, we often talk about adding complexity to our characters, whether they’re major or minor. We want multi-dimensional characters that engage the reader. But according to Forster, the use of flat characters can be very effective as well.

Flat Characters

For example, here’s an excerpt about flat characters from Aspects of the Novel:

“In their purest form, they are constructed round a single idea or quality: when there is more than one factor in them, we get the beginning of the curve towards the round.”

Forster goes on to explain that flat characters are easily recognized and easily remembered by whatever one quality defines them.

Flat characters are often humorous, and readers have a certain comfort in knowing the flat character won’t change over the course of the story. Their singular quality will remain intact. The bumbling sidekick is one such character. He breaks the tension in the story, and you know he’ll trip and fall into a mud puddle or spill coffee in someone’s lap whenever he appears.

Flat characters can often be summed up in one sentence. For example, in his audio course “Writing Great Fiction: Storytelling Tips and Techniques,” James Hynes defined Huckleberry Finn’s father, Pap Finn, as flat. Pap could easily be described as “a mean drunk.”

Although we think of flatness mostly in terms of minor characters, major characters can also be flat. Forster cites the author Charles Dickens as a case in point.

“The case of Dickens is significant. Dickens’ people are nearly all flat…. Part of the genius of Dickens is that he does use types and caricatures, people whom we recognize the instant they re-enter, and yet achieves effects that are not mechanical and a vision of humanity that is not shallow.”

In his lecture, James Hynes also mentioned Sherlock Holmes as an example of a main character who is flat. Holmes rarely changes in Doyle’s novels. He’s always the perfect human automaton who solves crimes by his amazing powers of deduction. Yet Holmes was such a wildly popular main character that when Sir Arthur killed him off, the public outcry was so loud, he had to find a way to bring Holmes back for future books.

* * *

But whether your characters are round or flat,

“Remember: Plot is no more than footprints left in the snow after your characters have run by on their way to incredible destinations.”—Ray Bradbury

* * *

So TKZers: What fictional characters would you describe as round or flat? How about characters in your novels?

 

Private pilot Cassie Deakin struggles with her distrust of Deputy Frank White when she has to team up with him to solve a murder mystery.

Available at  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play, or Apple Books.

Tickling the Dragon’s Tail

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The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding, go out to meet it. —Thucydides

* * *

Dr. Louis Slotin was a brilliant young physicist. Only thirty-four years old, he had been working at Los Alamos on the super-secret Manhattan Project since 1943. He was known to be a quiet, reserved man, and yet one who was attracted to dangerous assignments.

Perhaps that’s what drew him to an experiment that would ultimately kill him.

Most of us are in awe of the work done on the Manhattan Project. Names like Oppenheimer, Bohr, Fermi, and others who worked there defined much of nuclear physics research in the mid-twentieth century. Yet despite the magnificent brain power, one of the experiments that was required in order to construct an atomic bomb was surprisingly primitive.

“Critical mass” is a term that describes the condition that occurs when the amount of fissionable material brought together is enough to start a nuclear chain reaction. In an effort to determine critical mass in the Los Alamos lab, a human operator would bring two hemispheres of such material close together until the mass just started to go critical. A Geiger counter and a neutron monitor would gauge the radiation emitted by the two lumps of metal. The goal was to get the assembly to begin to go critical but stop before it became dangerously over-critical and released lethal amounts of radiation.

Louis Slotin had performed this experiment dozens of times using a simple screwdriver as a lever to control the approach of one lump of material toward the other. He referred to the procedure as “tickling the dragon’s tail.”

On a fateful day in May 1946, Dr. Slotin was in the lab. Amazingly, there were visitors in the room to observe the operation.  According to an article on the Canadian Nuclear Society website,

The experiment involved creating the beginning of a fission reaction by bringing together two metal hemispheres of highly reactive, beryllium-coated plutonium.

Seven people watched as Slotin brought one hemisphere close to the other. The Geiger counter ticked a little faster.

Then Slotin’s hand slipped, and the upper hemisphere of metal fell onto the lower one causing a hard release of radiation. The Geiger Counter went crazy, then stopped completely, and people in the room reported a strange blue glow.

Slotin lunged forward and flipped the top hemisphere of beryllium off and onto the floor. Nine days later, Dr. Louis Slotin died in a hospital from the results of radiation poisoning. Miraculously, none of the other people in the room succumbed.

* * *

I have read “The Strange Death of Louis Slotin” by Stewart Alsop and Ralph E. Lapp several times. Each time I read it, I’m surprised by the crude contraption used to determine critical mass. The scientists at Los Alamos would have known better than anyone else how dangerous a mistake could be.

I’m even more surprised by the willingness of anyone, especially someone with a clear understanding of the risk, to volunteer to run the experiment. But there are those people who not only enjoy a sense of danger, but even seek it out. Those to whom “tickling the dragon’s tail” is an essential part of their lives.

* * *

It makes me wonder. Who are these people who enjoy living on the edge? Are there many of them?

Last week, Alan mentioned a test pilot friend of his had died while flying an experimental aircraft. It reminded me of books I’ve read about test pilots, and I wonder what it takes for a man or woman to climb into a contraption that’s never been tested before, and take off. I think of the Wright brothers, Charles Lindbergh, and Chuck Yeager.

And what about those ultimate test pilots, the astronauts? Can you imagine sitting on top of a rocket with a few hundred thousand gallons of fuel underneath you, and blasting off to be the first to land on the moon? Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were willing.

Maybe those are the extreme examples. More down to earth (pun intended) are police and fire fighters whose livelihoods embrace danger.

And then there are fictional characters who refuse to back away like Atticus Finch, James Bond, or Sam Spade. How about Nancy Drew?

Writing mysteries, thrillers or suspense means we create characters who deal with danger in a variety of ways. Some are attracted to it, some run away, and others don’t seek it out, but stand and fight.

So TKZers: Do you have favorite fictional characters who love to push the envelope? How about the characters in your books? How do they handle danger?

* * *

 

Private pilot Cassie Deakin doesn’t go looking for danger, but she lands right in the middle of it when she searches for the key to a mystery—and finds a murderer.

Available at  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play, or Apple Books.

Find the Right Critique Group for You

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Photo credit: Photo by Dylan Gillis on Unsplash

by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

Recently Jim Bell suggested I write a post about critique groups. Thanks for the idea, Jim!

What should a new writer look for?

New writers need three things:

  1. Accountability – A critique group motivates you to write consistently. It’s human nature that you’re more apt to meet someone else’s deadline than one you impose on yourself. A frequent comment: “If I didn’t have to turn in pages for my critique group, I wouldn’t have gotten around to writing.”
  2. Readers – Unless you’re keeping a journal only for yourself, you eventually want others to see your work. Critique groups are good first readers for a new writer.
  3. Feedback – The most important job of a critique group is to improve your writing. They spot trouble areas, inconsistencies, lack of clarity. The writer is often too close to the work to see problems. Critique groups offer objectivity. They make suggestions such as how to strengthen prose, what parts to cut or expand, ways to make characters come to life, etc.

When I was starting out, critique groups filled all three needs for me. Thirty-five years later, I’m pretty good about #1 (accountability) but I still need #2 and 3, readers and feedback. Currently I participate in two groups, one with long-time author friends, the other on Zoom with writers scattered around the country I’ve never met in person.

“But I’m not a joiner.” If you can effectively work alone, that’s great. But consider a critique group or beta readers for feedback before submitting for publication.

How to find a critique group:

  • Take writing classes – My first group grew out of students I met at creative writing classes at the community college.
  • Join a writing organization – Check out this list. Some are generalized with a broad interest range that includes fiction, nonfiction, poetry, screenwriting, journalism, memoirs, etc. Other groups focus on specific genres like romance, mystery, historical, children’s, Christian, etc. Most organizations offer active programs to help you meet other writers in your area of interest.
  • Attend a conference – Critique groups sometimes form among attendees.
  • Ask local bookstores and libraries – They frequently serve as meeting places for critique groups.
  • Search online – Meetup.com, Google, social media, etc.

How to set up a new group:

  • Gather six to eight other writers. That’s enough to give a variety of viewpoints. More than that, it’s difficult to review everyone’s submission in a timely way. If possible, find writers with more experience than yourself who are willing to help those with less experience.
  • Decide how often to meet–weekly, bi-weekly, monthly.
  • Find a convenient location, such as members’ homes, coffeeshops, bookstores, the library, etc.
  • Meet remotely via Zoom, Facetime, etc.
  • Agree on rules. Basic guidelines are: be respectful, courteous, helpful; don’t interrupt and don’t be snarky.

Join an existing group:

Some groups are open to newcomers. Others are by invitation only. You may need to submit a writing sample, or be recommended by someone already in the group.

Two common formats:

  1. Read pages aloud to the group. This takes time and limits the number of submissions that can be reviewed. But it also helps newer writers hear problems they don’t see on the page.
  2. Submit pages in advance, then discuss at the meeting.

Generally, the author remains silent during discussion. Afterwards, they may ask questions or comment.

Authors frequently want to defend their work or explain what they really meant, which is not necessarily what is actually written on the page/screen. Remember, when the story is published, the author isn’t there to explain. The writing must stand on its own.

Is this the right group for me?

  • Trial run – Ask if you can attend a couple of meetings (in person or by Zoom) to get to know other members. You can tell a lot by how respectfully they treat each other. Strong suggestion to newcomers: listen more than talk.
  • Compatible chemistry – Can you work with these people? Can they work with you? A group that writes gritty noir is not useful for a children’s picture book author.
  • Tone – Lively discussions are not the same as pointless arguments.
  • Attitude – Are they helpful and encouraging? Do they actively look for solutions to problems? Do authors go home excited and energized?

Danger Signs to Watch For:  

  • Poisoners – Some groups are just plain toxic. They exist to savage someone else’s writing to make themselves feel superior. Avoid such people at all costs. They never help and destroy your enthusiasm and confidence.
  • Divine Emperor – Someone appoints themselves the ruler of the group, delivering proclamations straight from Mount Sinai. When you’re not experienced, it’s easy to be intimidated by those who know more than you do. But what often masquerades as “knowledge” are simply arbitrary rules.
  • Monopolizer – This person demands attention. Drop everything right now and focus on my story because the world really does revolve around me. All take and no give doesn’t work in critique.
  • Closed Ears – This writer won’t listen to suggestions. S/he repeats the same problems month after month.
  • Frustrated Actor – This writer wants applause from an audience. S/he wants affirmation, not constructive criticism.

What Are Potential Problems?

  • In groups of new writers, sometimes the ignorant are leading the uninformed. Educate yourself by reading craft books and articles and taking classes. Expand your knowledge at the same time you practice writing.
  • Personality clashes may arise. Try talking one on one to work out your differences outside regular meetings. Maybe you can agree to disagree and keep discussion civil. If you can’t, one of you might have to find a different group.
  • Lack of participation. Some people rarely submit and offer lots of excuses. They’d rather talk about writing than write. Some submit and accept feedback, but don’t comment on others’ submissions. A group only works with active give and take.

Here are a few additional thoughts from one of my early guest posts for TKZ.

 I’m a big fan of critique groups because the ones I’ve been in included good people who are eager to learn and are glad to help others. YMMV. If you had a bad experience in the past, consider trying again with different people.

We all start out as beginners. Learning to write is intimidating. Sharing what you write with other can be scary.

But it can also lead you to rewards you never imagined.

~~~

TKZers: Are you in a critique group? What helps you? What causes problems?

~~~

Critique groups contributed invaluable help to every book in Debbie Burke’s Tawny Lindholm Thriller series. Available here.

Creating a Main Character Persona

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Cary Grant

Last weekend I watched a Dyan Cannon interview in which she discussed the new movie, “Archie” (Cary Grant), and her marriage with him. When asked about the Cary Grant film persona, Cannon said that Archie Leach had picked attributes from multiple actors he admired and created the Cary Grant persona, which he perfected to became so famous and successful.

Here’s an article on the subject which confirmed Cannon’s assessment:

https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/a-man-and-his-persona-on-cary-grant-a-brilliant-disguise/

I had planned to start a discussion in March on “creating main characters” for a Friday TKZ post. I thought this would be the perfect time.

There are many excellent books available for new writers on the subject of creating characters. A quick look at my shelves reminded me of three of my favorites: JSB’s Writing Unforgettable Characters, Nancy Kress’s Dynamic Characters, and Nancy Kress’s Characters, Emotion, and Viewpoint.

Today, to help beginning writers and readers, let’s focus on (a) the character attributes we have used in our own characters, or the character traits that are most likely to draw us to characters in someone else’s writing. And, (b) the books we found most helpful in the beginning of our writing careers to create such characters.

Questions:

  1. What character attributes have you used in building main characters?
  2. What main character attributes are most likely to keep you reading?
  3. Which books did you find helpful in the beginning of your writing journey?