Beauty in Simplicity

As a writer of fiction, I was taught that my characters should be round. They should be complicated and developed. And this makes sense. As readers, we want to follow characters who learn and grow in the time we spend with them. We want them to be presented with struggles and challenges and we want to see if these challenges can be overcome by our protagonist(s). Simple characters can be predictable. Who wants to read a story they can predict the end to?

But what about those flat, minor characters? Well, they have a place in stories, too. First of all, they are necessary to some story arcs. Not every character can be fleshed out, especially in a shorter piece of work. Some characters have to be flat. If every charter in fiction came complete with backstory and complications, all their problems would take away from the journey of the main characters. For example, what do we know about the waiter in Hemingway's "Hills like White Elephants?" In this short, short story that focuses intently on the American couple, do we really need to know the waiter's desires and backstory? Of course not. Sometimes a waiter is just a waiter.

But flat characters can be awesome. Take the Duke and Dauphin from Mark Twain's "Adventures of Huckleberry Finn." These guys are pretty one-note characters. They come into Huck's story, louse things up for our lead, try to make a few bucks, and leave (well, more like run out of town) without learning a lesson. And we are left to imagine what other adventures these two might have and what other scams they might pull.

And they are despicable people, but darn it, they're a lot of fun too. Who doesn't love the Royal Nonesuch?

Or how about the Lummi Indian in Sherman Alexie's "War Dances"? We don't get his backstory or motivations. He's just a guy in a hospital waiting for his sister to give birth. But he delivers my favorite line in all of Sherman's works. After the protagonist, a Spokane Indian, asks the Lummi if he has a blanket, the Lummi asks him if the Spokane assumed he would have a blanket simply because he is Native American. "You're stereotyping your own damn people," the Lummi says, and then immediately follows with, "But damn if we don't have a room full of Pendleton blankets."

All three of these characters are basically flat. They have no development, but they are all essential to the stories in which we find them. The Duke and Dauphin sell Jim into slavery. And the Lummi provides our protagonist with the much coveted blanket.

Flat characters are necessary, and can be fun and interesting in capable hands. They balance the protagonists. For every Jean Valjean whose epic journey is full of struggles and heartbreak there is a villainous, slimy M. Thénardier with a get-rich-quick mentality. The Thénardiers in literature balance out the Valjeans. And their simplicity can be just a entertaining as the complexities of our heroes.

So You Want to Be a Rabbit...

So You Want to Be a Rabbit
The Introvert's Guide to Passing as an Extrovert

This is by no means the be-all, end-all guide on this subject, since I'm still figuring this out as I go. For the be-all, end-all guide, you want to read "Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking" by Susan Cain. However, until you get your hands on a copy of Cain's book, here is my list to tide you over.

1. Own It. It's okay to be introverted. We live in a world that praises the yellers. The squeaky wheel gets the oil, and such. And yes, it is important, especially for writers, to get out and market yourself. Networking and building an audience so when you get published, you have an audience of readers interested in you and therefore will be interested in your writing. Yes, it is important to get out there and make yourself public. But don't get overwhelmed, because it is okay to be introverted. That is who you are. Own It!

However, to survive in this world, you do have to at least pretend to be a little extroverted at times. So the following are tips to stepping outside of your comfort zone.

2. Start Slow. Don't commit yourself to too much at once. Remember that as an introvert, you need to have some alone time to recharge. Keep that in mind when embarking on this journey or stepping outside your comfort zone. For example, let's say have the opportunity to read at an open mic night or poetry reading, but don't feel ready to stand in front of people and share your own world. So here's what you do, you build up to it. Start with going to an open mic night or reading for writers. Get used to the atmosphere. Watch the performers. Listen to how they are reading. Practice reading out loud by yourself. Then for a friend/family member. Then maybe a small group of friends. Build up to it. So maybe the next time the opportunity arises, you will be a little less afraid to read in public. Don't let the fear of public speaking keep you from sharing your work. And you know what, if you mess up, if you stumble over a couple words, it's not the end of the world. I promise.

3. Reward Yourself. When you have stepped out of your comfort zone (participated in a reading or by starting a blog that you plan to maintain on a weekly basis or even going to your best friend's baby shower) do something that you enjoy. Something that brings you peace. Go home and listen to your favorite song. Watch a movie. Write. Eat ice cream. For example, after I finish this blog, I'm going to watch Batman Returns. So maybe that sounds like a sucky reward to you. That's fine. Go find your "Batman" and use it as a reward for stepping outside of your comfort zone. The bigger the step, the bigger the reward.

I Am a Turtle (and not the cool teenage mutant ninja kind)

Being an introvert is like being a turtle. I am most comfortable in my shell. And if it were up to me, I would spend my whole life with my head in my shell, occasionally peeking one eye out to see what was going on in the outside world. Because the real world is in my shell. My creations are my friends and family. They are always with me. I need nothing else.

As a turtle, I do not like social gatherings. I dread mingling. I despise small talk. I've always hated birthday parties (whether or not alcohol was involved) and going out with big groups of friends (and yes, I consider 3 or more people to be a big group). As someone who works as a cashier in a cafe, I deal with people every weekday for 8-plus hours a day (and yes, in hindsight, I realize this was not a great life choice on my part). By the time Friday rolls around, I am a cranky mess who never wants to see another person again as long as I live. So I hide in my shell (read: studio apartment) all weekend and recharge. Because we turtles get our power from being alone. Whereas rabbits (read: extroverts) get their power from being around other rabbits.

This does relate to writing, I swear!

For turtles, the writing part is easy. Me + Laptop. No other turtles, no rabbits. Just me and Adam (yes, I named my laptop Adam). But as a writer who wants to be published, I have to step out of my shell and pretend to be a rabbit sometimes. I have to be energetic and passionate about my work--my babies that I've birthed from my imagination like the Goddess Athena and nursed with tender care for many hours, days, even years--in a public setting. (Warning: this is about to take a really weird turn, but if you stick with me, I promise it will be worth it...I hope.) I have to actually pimp out my babies, make them look sexy to strangers. And then if my one of my babies is actually chosen for publication, sometimes there is an opportunity to read my baby out loud. In public. So even though Turtle me is screaming "NOOO!" from inside my shell, Rabbit me says "I'd love to read in public." Because secretly I am a masochist. So I let Rabbit me take over for a little bit. Rabbit me doesn't show that I'm terrified to stand in front of a room filled with strangers praying that they'll laugh at the moments that are intended to be funny and not the moments when I trip over my own tongue in my haste to be done. And before I know it, the reading is over and I am proud of myself for passing as a rabbit, even for a short time. And I reward myself by going back into my shell to recharge. Until I feel it's time to put on the rabbit ears again and pretend to be extroverted.

By the way, Turtle me is only okay with this post because no one will ever read it.

Tips for Writing

1. Write. Write everything. Even if it's garbage, you can censor or revise it later. Writing is good practice and you never know what good ideas may come from it.

2. Write for yourself. If you write for the critics, you'll probably get writer's block. You'll end up with a story you don't even like. The writing process is difficult. If you love your story, then all the criticism and revisions will be worth it.

3. You need tough critics. These are the people who will tell you what is not working with the piece. Their advice, although sometimes heartbreaking, can push your story to deeper levels.

4. You need cheerleaders. Like a parent, grandparent, or imaginary friend. You want someone in your corner who will love your story simply because you wrote it. This helps to balance out the negative criticism and they'll talk you down off the ledge after a rough workshop.

5. After a workshop goes south, have a good cry, put the story away for a little bit (a few weeks, a month, however long it takes for the wounds to heal) and then return to it with a fresh set of eyes. You'll be surprised how much it has changed and what fresh ideas you bring to the revision.

6. Sentence Variation.

7. Dialogue is your friend. Maybe it's because I was raised by television and 99% of that entertainment is speaking/dialogue is the reason I like it so much and feel claustrophobic when staring at page after page of dense text. Let your page breathe.

8. Don't be afraid to do a little research.

9. Never delete. When revising, start a fresh draft by retyping your original draft by cutting what needs to be cut. I can't tell you how many things I've thrown out that yes, were probably garbage, but I miss.