The Dreaded Bobble Head

/ Lisa / 6 Comments

We’ve been re-watching a show called Numb3rs (that’s not a typo) and one of actors fascinates me. Peter MacNicol turned the role of a professor who’s brilliant but rather foggy from a cliché to fully developed character. I find myself studying the mannerisms of the character. I’m not sure if the actor did this on his own or if the director assisted, but either way, what could have been a cardboard walk on character became much more. And I think a large part of that was movement.

Peter held his body with shoulders slightly hunched forward, making the chest shallow. He held one arm across his body, cupping the other elbow, with that arm held upright. As he talked, his hand would be there like a flag on a flagpole, moving constantly, nervously, absentminded, busy. When the character was puzzling over something the hand would move limp, tugging at a curl, pulling at an earlobe. When nervous or agitated, the hand would move more quickly, flitting, worrying.

There were many more mannerisms this character had, including the way he spoke, but you get the idea. Watching him made me ponder on the old dreaded bobble head of writing. There are two things my characters do in the first draft of a story that could cause issues in real life. One, they run around naked until I’m editing and realize I’ve forgotten to dress them. Two, they nod a lot and just stand there while in dialog.

The editing process fleshes them out more. Of course in the first draft I’m just trying to capture the story, so that makes sense. But I have to remember to go back and add those mannerisms; the movements that give depth to dialog and character, and even more depth to the unspoken dialog between characters. Body language is so important.

Clear body language for a dog caught in the act

Clear body language for a dog caught in the act

When I watch an actor who does a marvelous job of bringing that language of the body to life, I find myself thinking – how would I describe that so it would be seen to the reader? How would I describe it without it overwhelming the message in the dialog?

Another thing I like to do is sit in a parking lot with music playing so that I can’t hear what people are talking about. Or watch people in a busy restaurant where the ambient noise makes it difficult to pull out individual voices. In those types of situations you can watch body language without being distracted by the words. And again, figure out how you would describe what you see and what you think they are talking about.

Finally, during an edit process I like to hold my hand over the dialog on the written page, look at the movements I’ve given a character, and see if those movements tell me anything or if they are just filler.

But like I said, that’s all in the editing process. For the most part, in the first draft, I have a bunch of bobble heads nodding and smiling. Or nodding and frowning. Or nodding and teary. Blah.

When Music Returns

/ Lisa / 9 Comments

This compulsion called writing is a strange thing. The last few months working on book three has been very difficult. I was beginning to think the story had escaped me, had moved on to someone who might be able to tell it better. But I’ve been doing this long enough now to recognize that fear.

It’s not writer’s block because if I do sit down to write, the words are there; I just can’t put fingers to pen or keyboard. Maybe it’s a lack of trust in the story and the characters. Maybe it’s a lack of trust in myself. I’ve only had this problem the last six years, which makes me wonder if sometimes my brain goes back to its radiation days, moving away from the creativity. Because this feels like a weight. I wouldn’t call that weight sadness but I suppose it could be that. It’s a sense of just not having the energy to start, exhaustion.

I’ve learned however, that if I just keep pretending, if I talk like I know what I’m talking about, if I go through the motions without actually working on the story, eventually that weight goes away.

I used to try and force the story during these time periods, but then learned the only thing that came from that was throwing away a lot of words. The story knows when you’re faking or trying too hard. And that will also show up in the writing. I can read a draft and point right to the spot when the weight descended and I started trying to force the words. The voice changes, everything becomes stilted, unfamiliar. I know now instead of forcing the story, I leave it, and just pretend to others I’m still working.

So this evening, finally, the weight went away and the words came back. Why? I have no idea other than that this time, I put music back on. The familiar tunes I used to write to. Before radiation I always wrote to specific music. It gave me that restless melancholy, that ache that’s needed to write. After radiation, when I was learning to be me again, music was a distraction and I needed silence to be able to hear the characters.

Now I’m wondering if finally, finally, I’ve returned to who I was before lymphoma. Because tonight the music was there, the weight was gone, and the characters took me by the hand and showed me the story that’s been patiently waiting.

This may not be the final fix, the last cure. I’m sure that struggle will come back. Maybe it has nothing to do with the past few years. Maybe this weight is actually a waiting space I need to inhabit during each story, in order for it to grow. We’ll see. No matter how long one writes, the process is always evolving.

Or maybe it’s simply the return of music.

Book Three Protagonist

/ Lisa / 5 Comments

Susan Schreyer, author of the Thea Campbell mystery series, challenged me to talk about a character in the books. I’ve chosen a new one, from the current work in progress. You know, that work in progress that might be finished before man settles Mars. Susan answered these same questions, and she can be found over at http://www.writinghorses.blogspot.com. Wander over for a visit.

1.) What is the name of your character? Harlow Grafton

2.) Is he/she fictional or a historic person? Is that a trick question? Fictional of course. Isn’t that what all writers say when they’ve actually pieced together someone from traits of those around them?

3.) When and where is the story set? Current time, in Wallace Idaho as with the other two books. Current time, but at the same time, this is a prequel to The Memory Keeper.

4.) What should we know about him/her? Six years previously, her father died in a logging accident. Most people believe Harlow had something to do with that, and the death may not have been an accident. She left shortly thereafter and at the opening of the book has just returned. No job, no money, living with her sister, the new owner of a rescued dog, and the discoverer of very old bones in the woods.

5.) What is the main conflict? What messes up his/her life? The main conflict is the discovery of bodies. Young girls, found in the same areas as old bones, and all with a connection to Harlow. Another big conflict for her is her mouth. She speaks without thinking, says what she wants, and, as she has told others, usually offends someone every time she opens her mouth. Interestingly, a lot of my husband’s expressions have made their way into Harlow.

6.) What is the personal goal of the character? To lay the ghost of her father to rest, to find peace within herself, and to find the missing girl who just might still be alive.

7.) Is there a working title for this novel, and can we read more about it? The working title is Ghost Roads. There really isn’t more to read about it as this is the most I’ve talked about the book. I have to be careful because if I talk about a story too much before it’s finished, I’ll never finish it. I’ll keep you posted on the progress here though, and it would help the first draft to have some reactions to Harlow, from the little I’ve given here. It’s not much, I know, but it would be interesting to see if she’s piqued your curiosity.

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