Writing versus daydreaming: The necessity of flawed characters
I mean, we can’t all be tall, thin models with a golden moral compass, yeah?
Photo by @annapostovaya from Unsplash.
“We live in a society and a culture and an economic model that tries to make everything look right. Look at computers. Why are they all putty-colored or off-fucking-white? You make something off-white or beige because you are afraid to use any other color – because you don’t want to offend anybody. But by definition, when you make something no one hates, no one loves it. So I am interested in imperfections, quirkiness, insanity, unpredictability. That’s what we really pay attention to anyway. We don’t talk about planes flying; we talk about them crashing.”
“What do you think it means that I have very vivid dreams? Sandy says it’s a sign of my active imagination. I feel like it reveals a very active subconscious on my part, which really only differs from my imagination by showcasing my anxieties next to it. In my daydreams, my parents don’t make constant appearances. I’m not sad or depressed. I’m someone else entirely. Maybe that’s why I find it so difficult to love the person I am.”
I wrote that in my daily journal the other day, and as soon as I jotted down that last sentence, I felt something shift in me.
It’s an interesting concept, yeah? I build up this idea of who I want to be in my head, this perfect, brave, beautiful person, and then when I realize who I actually am, I’m disappointed. Maybe no one else sees it that way or even cares, but I have to live with myself for the rest of my life. But is it possible that I don’t love the person I am because of this conflated sense of what people should be instead of who they are?
Photo by @sixteenmilesout from Unsplash.
Let’s apply this to writing. What’s your favorite book? Or, what’s the last book you read? Right now, I’m reading Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. The novel is narrated by a woman reflecting on her years at a British boarding school (to say the least), but what strikes me about this novel is the passivity of the narrator. That, and the flaws inherent in her as a teenager. Her friendships with characters who were less than desirable, or who were at least other flawed teenagers making worse decisions than her.
Is this book appealing? And why? Do we read it for the story? Or do we read it for the characters? For the characters who make mistakes and remind us of ourselves? Escapist literature exists, don’t get me wrong. But to me, a book like this is more appealing simply because of the complexity of the characters.
I learned this lesson when I was young. For most of my childhood and adolescent years, I was working on the same concept in different forms of novels, but it was essentially a science fiction story about a race of people from a different world where, notably, everything was perfect.
Listen, I was eight when I came up with this concept. And originally, it was a game my friends and I would play during recess. But over the years as I wrote this book, I found it more and more difficult to write characters that were supposed to be flawless.
“The world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters. We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.”
How many ways can you describe a race of perfect people? Without going all Stephanie Meyer and Twilight on it, of course. And, even worse, it’s just impossible to create a cast of characters that have no moral flaws either. What I simply came to learn is that it isn’t feasible, nor is it desirable, to have perfect characters.
I don’t know, maybe this is obvious for the rest of you. But, personally, I think it’s worth talking over at length, not only because it’s what makes a story worth reading, but also because it’s incredibly difficult to do. I’m not saying your readers need to like your characters. Hell, they can hate them if they want. What’s imperative is that, while reading, they feel connected to them in some sense. They need to feel the same draw you felt while writing the story. They need to feel something.
Maybe your protagonist is fighting for this person they believe they love, but it’s not until the end that they realize, they don’t really love that person, but that they’re dealing with an issue of loss of control and a paralyzing fear of loneliness. Maybe, throughout the course of this story, they’re also insufferable, manipulative, and narcissistic. But maybe, you as the author, also play this trick on the reader. You manipulate the reader, as the narrator.
Or, if we want to talk about complex antagonists (at least when they’re people), I think the video game series, The Last of Us, has some of the most complex, relatable antagonists I’ve ever seen. It’s not like a Lord Voldemort scenario or evil abstract corporations. The protagonists and antagonists vary depending on the storyline, exacerbated by a dystopian society where their lives are threatened daily. In short, the characters are just people. As human as they can get.
I also wonder how this concept of imperfection can help us as people off the page and screen. Is what I wrote in my journal even possible? Can I somehow separate myself from this daydreamed imagining of who I could be, if I lost weight or read more or was kinder or nicer or better in general? What kind of steps will I have to take to replace this daydream with the notion that imperfection is in fact better?
I’d love to hear your thoughts below! What are some of the best examples of imperfect characters you’ve seen in media?
Don’t forget to preorder my book, Just Us, or sign up on my Patreon at the $7/month tier or higher to get a free, signed copy mailed to you upon its release!
