These insights are so helpful - thank you! When I consider the issue of likeability, I always think of Larry David's character in the show Curb Your Enthusiasm. The first few episodes, I could not figure the show out. Larry is an asshole and bad things happen to him and you're just kind of like, "well, yeah, of course annoying things happen to him, he has it coming!" But a wonderful thing happens the more you watch the show: you are pulled in so close into the minutia of Larry's life, that you kind of... get him. You don't really *like* him, but he's like a hilarious friend you roll your eyes at and apologize for. So when bad/annoying things happen to him, you kind of go "awww, Larry! HAHA". You want to help him, but you also want him to get what he deserves, and feeling that contradiction is really magic! Once that clicked for me, I switched "likeability" for something like "familiarity". Familiarity can breed both love and contempt - and sometimes both! - but either way, it's definitely not boring.
I just finished watching Seinfeld from beginning to end, and it's exactly the same thing, except you have four people to feel that way about instead of one.
Part of Larry David character charm is that he speaks for all of us. We all think what he is thinking but dont say it. Its his honesty that is appealing!
Absolutely, I do eat all the shrimp! Even though I might think there are a few missing, I dont count them out like Larry! ( There should be 20 shrimp per package as advertised). lol
Familiarity is an excellent term to use for n place of likeability. I suppose I always pushed back against the need for a character to be likeable, which really shows in my work. It made for interesting discussion in my writing workshops too. So I must have been doing something right.
I tended to hound any writer I could on this point. More often than not, I go some variation of, a character need not be likeable, merely interesting. I still cling to that, for good or bad 😏
Yes. I too thought about this Georgian entry in terms of the viewer or reader. I remember intensely disliking the narrator/main character of Brideshead Revisited and wondered, at the end, why the novel as a whole was so wonderful. Same with Lolita. I like the distinction between like/dislike and degrees of familiarity. Akin to GS’s in habitation and dislikable but interesting.
(Tried to "like" your comment, but wouldn't let me.) Funny because the actor, Jeremy Irons, who played Charles in the movie version of Brideshead also reads one of the best audio versions of a book I've listened to: Lolita.
My husband loves that show, I like it in smaller doses, but the way you write about Larry is perfect. I also like his best friend's wife, she's hilarious.
This has made think about the difference between writing for sympathy vs writing for empathy. I believe that I heard once that a good story can make you feel sympathetic for a character, but a great story can make you feel empathetic for them. But I don't know if I buy that. I think it wholly depends on the specifics of the character, but if a hateable character truly has done something awful, I think there can be possibly be some ethical issues with trying to have your reader empathize with them. By attempting to put the reader in that awful person's shoes you're also sort of asking the reader to forgive them. Whereas, if you make this awful person sympathetic in some small way or manor, I think the reader can see and appreciate the complexity of their actions, but still at the same time not defend them. But a little voice inside of me wonders if there is a way to artfully and skillfully create a truly awful and despicable character that can be empathized with. Can that be moral? Because I agree that empathy does feel stronger than sympathy, and I think we should probably always be shooting for the former when we can.
Interesting thoughts. I think it comes down to really defining terms here... To me, empathy isn't so much about forgiving wrong deeds as it is about having a visceral understanding of why the person did the wrong deed (why they thought it was acceptable or necessary). As the empathizer, you can really feel into that choice and try it on. A wall comes down somewhere between you and them and you experience their full humanity. You are still in a position to say "I get it, but you're not seeing the whole picture" or even "I would have chosen differently", but the emotional stakes of saying so are higher.
In the Buddhist tradition, the difference is often put something like - sympathy is "feeling for" while empathy is "feeling with". I think if you can make your readers "feel with" and still ultimately disagree (or feel conflicted about) a characters choice, you have a much more rich emotional minefield and probably less condescension from the reader feeling they are "better than" that character.
Part of me thinks that if you really do succeed in creating a character the reader can empathise with, then the character is probably not going to be truly awful, in the sense of being vicious through and through, pure evil or whatever. A character that was those things probably wouldn’t have the sort of complex inner/emotional life that would enable the reader to feel the sort of shared emotional bond which I think is crucial for empathy.
And then the question might be: is it moral to present people who have done heinous things or who we might think of as 'truly awful' as having complex inner/emotional lives? And I think the answer to that question can only be yes, because most of the time they do.
Also, as Tasha says, I think there’s a difference between understanding, from a sort of first-person perspective, why someone acted in a particular way, and thinking that that way of acting is justified or morally fine, or whatever. (At least I hope there is…)
Vital and interesting to consider morality of writing character in the face of empathy, Ben, because I think this is where the fear comes from for writers. We think a lot, so we think of what others will think of what we think. My response is that it's the moral responsibility of writers to tell the truth, or in another sense to allow the truth to be told through us and our use of characters and story, and that necessitates sitting with the fuller dimensions of the darknesses we shy away from in any person/character. Is it possible to write the most evil possible in the most compelling manner possible and avoid inspiring empathy? This might be the most important part of characterization. This is where the suspension of judgment becomes necessary. I'm betting this post and discussion today moves many of us past some of the trickier blocks we will ever run up against.
I'm about six months late with this comment, but I'm working through George's backlog of posts and this one struck me as interesting. Your first point on "Is it moral to present people who have done heinous things who we might think of as 'truly awful: as having complex emotional inner lives?' speaks to the one thing fiction can offer that no other medium can. Where else do you get to hear the inner thoughts of an 'evil' person and hear their side of the story, in a truly honest way? In a court case, or an interview post conviction, there is always that lingering question. "is this person trying to lessen the impression of their crimes? Are they trying to redeem their legacy?"
With fiction however, you are right there with them. When it's done well, you are in their head, witnessing their justifications, and can't help but recognize yourself in at least some parts of their actions-- which to me is the first step towards guarding yourself against such people in the world. (and against becoming one yourself) Don't look for a man with a cape and fangs. Look for a version of yourself whose taken a few different turns than you.
This question reminds me of reading George's story "Victory Lap." The story has a clear villain, the predator. But he gives the guy just enough detail and background that I recognize him as a real person. It definitely didn't make me like him, but it at least allowed me to recognize him.
Also, I totally recognized myself in the question writer, especially after George diagnosed the problem. I have so many big ideas I've attached to my story that I haven't given my characters enough room to make organic decisions. In Draft #1, I have to let the chips fall. I hear you.
Thank you George and thank you Loveless in Las Vegas. Great question and a great, insightful answer, as usual. Both reminded me that this idea of being interested or intrigued is ultimately more important than liking or not. It suggests engagement rather than judgement. Perhaps we are talking about a sort of Buddhist detachment and presence. Events and characters happen and I am interested in seeing, knowing and feeling. I don't really need to judge them in order to benefit from understanding or empathizing, or in order to participate in some way. A beautiful concept really. Thank you again George and StoryClub for my weekly dose of group therapy. Like, not like, all I know is it's great here.
I often find myself comparing how I'm living my life to how I write. Slow and plodding some days, rushing in without looking others. This idea of "pre-judging" is dear to me.
About the questioner - "She has put herself, it seems, in the position of sort of pre-judging what the reader will find “likable.” So, in a sense, she already knows what she thinks about them. "
I am slow to judge others, which has led me into a lot of trouble with people. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt, too many times. In younger day, when someone has, say "stolen from me 10 times," I might then say, "hey maybe you can stop stealing from me?" It's not lack of courage. It's wanting to believe in the goodness of people who maybe aren't so good, or see the world differently than I do.
All of this is wrapped up in my strong ethical sense that aligns well with The Four Agreements. When I read Ruiz's book, I found I was already living them - it was confirmation bias, of course. I hate lying, including self-deception. But what I found is worse than lying is "assuming." Assuming is insidious in that it encompasses all other kinds of false judgments and leads to seeing the world through a glass darkly, or seeing the world through dark glass.
I consciously try not to assume much, especially about people, so when I'm caught assuming, it's a shock to my system. Not assuming is very much related to not judging. (I don't know if I'm so much an acolyte of The Four Agreements anymore - 2 of the precepts are stated in the positive and 2 in the negative. I've been working toward having only positive statements in my life. I try to "find a way to say 'yes'" in my life, which precludes "Don't" statements.)
But it's second nature to me to withhold judgments and to not assume. And so this part of George's response resonating strongly for me ... we're intrigued by characters because of "the writer’s refusal to make a judgment."
Whether that character is a good person or a bad person or does a good thing or does a bad thing - if you write it with that good/bad intentionality, so many assumptions get encoded into the creative process that it's impossible for some of those ideas not to seep in and infect the character in a way that they become less fully realized. They become stereotypes and one-dimensional creations of your own authorial assumptions.
When I first started writing back in the neolithic period, and my creative writing teacher said, "let the characters have a life of their own," I guffawed to myself in that young hubristic author way - "I'm the author, I can write her anyway I want. She does what I say she does. I AM...the puppetmaster." That didn't work so well.
But when I finally let go of the strings, writing became similar to how I deal with people in my life, non-judgmental, non-assuming in order to think and hope for the best for them.
"Let's see what this character does....." I tell myself. I'm willing to withhold judgment long enough to give someone or some character a chance to do the right thing or the true thing for them.
It’s a developed skill to not pre-judge or make assumptions about others. We can’t really escape our first knee-jerk assumptions, but we can learn to recognize them for what they are - based in our own experience without full insight into their experience. And thus we choose to withhold judgment.
A practiced and developed skill in life and writing. I think I’ve worked harder on this in life, but it’s a good reminder to work on developing this with my writing. In other words to allow characters to be flawed while not judging them as inherently good or bad. But rather to see how they act when put in different situations.
"He will be read long after these times have passed." That's such a wonderful note from another amazing writer. I'm reading Zadie Smith's "Swing Time" now. Sad that I'm almost done with it. I don't want it to end!
Another great, thoughtful, smart question and answer with so much for us to chew on and think about. I didn't "like" the mother-in-law character in Hurston's story, but boy, did she pop up in only a few short scenes and explain so much to us! She's the character that opened up the past–– we learned that the mother-in-law perceived Missy May's mother as the town floozy, and thought maybe Missie May was "a chip off the old block," didn't want her son involved with women like that, etc. She seemed harsh, and I got the feeling she caused Missy May some grief. Hurston used this complicated mother-in-law to show the reader so much of what was going on, not only in the past, but also during the labor and after the baby was born. A great motivation for Missie May to go back to her husband when she ran into her mother-in-law on the street, not wanting to give her what she "prayed for nightly." This MIL character intrigued me, made me curious, and made the story better.
This post hits straight to the heart of something I see a lot in (particularly) new writers who get stuck. I have an opinion about it but, as I'm continuing to learn myself (especially about short stories), your mileage may vary.
The main issue I see over and over is that the writer has made a commitment to plot over all things including character(s). In other words, a great deal of energy, effort and planning goes into creating and making the story "work", that is in building a beginning, middle and end and all those points in between to tell a complete story. To be sure, there's an entire industry devoted to plot structure. We've all heard those buzzwords: exposition, rising action, falling action, inciting incident, climax, false ending, resolution etc.
When a story fails for me, it's almost never the plot itself but in the disconnect between plot and character.
I'm not saying plot isn't important. I want to be clear about that. But I believe that the best plots are built FROM character not TO character. As George says here, when we create interesting characters and "follow" them, they often will show us where to go. And, I think, they will reveal plot to us at the same time.
Regarding the problem with pre-deciding “what comes next”: I once dreamt some text I thought would make a great final line for a story. Over the next few weeks, I wrote a story to stick in front of it. When I got to the last line, of which I was so proud, I (perhaps inevitably) realized I had to change it. I wonder, then, where that story came from?
Your vulnerability within your analysis is so helpful, Story Clubber "Loveless". We love you.
Dark, twisty psych thrillers are my indulgent viewing genre, but I tend to read heavily in memoir. You'd think there would be no overlap, or at least might hope not if a film is dark and sicko enough, but if you view these two genres in differing forms from the side (like from that fifth dimensional tesseract in Interstellar, peering into a familiar room and time period through the unfamiliar backside of the bookcase), these two different genres in different froms are often templates for each other: little studies into the complexity of character psychology. I trust the characters that clearly made the writer write them into being, hand-to-throat style.
Characters that feel honest in their exposure (you tell me your secrets and I'll tell you mine) can drive me compulsively (I tend to assume anyone) through even a bland story plot. Don't we just want to be inside those other heads, experiencing old views in new ways, or even new views in new ways, with other people of all kinds and not feel the manipulation of a writer's hand or their organized plot motivations? If I remember a writer when in the midst of a story I tend to feel manipulated, and will begin to pull away. Kind of like a bad marriage. Being controlled as a reader or viewer feels slimy and wrong. The truths characters have to tell in order to deliver a story honestly necessarily take us into places that feel universal even if not personally relatable, and not every storyteller follows their characters' honesty over plot intentions, though that's my seduction as a viewer or reader. Seduce me with those honest, complicated characters and keep it real. That is, tell the parts that try to hide!
Let the judgments fall away and let me hear what that character needs to tell me. Get out of the way, Writer. (I say this to myself when I get scared.)
So much power in a single word, though: "likability" is helpful until its limiting. Then we need a new one for the new dare we write. Vividness, intrigue, familiarity, habitation, sympathy/empathy (those are two very separate things in psychology), visceral––I might just make a reference list to remember today's post and some of the words you all used here. Riches. In this comment I used "seduction". The section of work I have to write in later today about a character for whom I feel so many different things, will perhaps need the term "crash". Whatever that character does, it's hard to look away.
Ha! - “if you view these two genres in differing forms from the side (like from that fifth dimensional tesseract in Interstellar, peering into a familiar room and time period through the unfamiliar backside of the bookcase),” - you forgot “with head tilted sideways, squinting, and eye crossed”. Brilliant, Traci.
I agree totally with memoir vs dark, twisty psych thrillers. Same genre right? Turn of the Screw is a memoir.
You mention “the manipulation of a writer’s hand.” I watch a lot of movies, classics, academy award winning fare, looking mostly for good writing. I will stand by this - one of the best acting performances ever was Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. You hear his voice before you ever see him on screen. Hoffman gets out of his own way as an actor and becomes that character, and Barry Levinson was wise enough to get out of Hoffman’s way. So whenever Hoffman’s on screen, you think Rain Man, not Dustin Hoffman.
It’s a similar take to a writer getting out of his own way.
I agree, Lee, about "Rain Man". That was one terrific performance. Saw it with my dear MIL when it came out. She kept poking me in the ribs asking if I thought that was a real person or an actor. Another more recent stand-out, at least for me, was Sean Penn as John Mitchell, Nixon's scabby AG during Watergate, in "Gaslit". I've been an admirer of Penn's work but had no idea, until the credits, that Mitchell was actually Penn. (Julia Roberts, I thought, played a great Martha Mitchell but she was still Julia. I love Katherine Hepburn, too, but same problem; I always know I'm watching KH & less so an actual character.) Following Wgate as I had at the time it occurred I was convinced I was seeing Mitchell on the screen, back from the dead. It took me a minute or two to think otherwise. That guy, Penn, needs an award! I think the idea here, and as it transfers from actors to writers, involves, maybe exclusively, the ability to fully inhabit the character. A matter, as you say, of getting out of the way. Not always easy but doable & from whence flows action & thus is plot naturally built, this as per Aristotle: character is action. Also, Ethan Canin, one of my favorite writers, especially his short stories, & former top dog at Iowa. "Don't write about character," Canin said. "Be that character. Deeply imagine somebody else. And then everything else takes care of itself. Otherwise, it's paralyzing." No truer words, in my experience. (BTW, did you see Kevin Kline in Canin's "The Palace Thief"? Another great performance.)
I haven’t seen Kevin Kline’s performance but I’ve been a fan since A Fish Called Wanda. Haven’t seen the Watergate piece either though I’m sure I’d love it. Sean Penn and I’ll add Gary Oldman and Willem Dafoe get fully into their roles. They’re not the only ones - a little known slouch named Daniel Day-Lewis inhabits his roles too but he’s retired. Something about these actors transforming themselves. I’ve watched a lot of actor’s studio and the cross over for writing is that they often find the character through their voice, how they talk. I think there’s something there.
An actor so in character that I forget to say their real name in my head is a delight to journey with and a sign of a successful performance! As we've discussed before in here, as writers and readers, the gut feels the reverberance of a kind of truthfulness that the characters carry... as well as a writer's reluctance to embody that character or allow the(ir) story to go where the character needs to go. It's how we end up surprising ourselves with fresh takes. Or how a writer like Hurston surprises us.
I’m glad you wrote this post at this particular time, as I have chosen to try to write a character who seems at once very good and very bad. I also love the notions of being as vivid and as open as possible. Thank you for this perceptive and awe-inspiring response!
Feeling empathy for a character does not stop them being villainous. I find it makes them more horrifying. I am thinking of Humbert Humbert of Lolita. We empathise with his tortured life and yet hate what he does. What George is saying, I think is, make the character more believable in flesh and blood, but still doing things true to his character.
I loved this. The questioner expressed so well the annoyance I feel when I’ve made a first section better and thus created a ton of work for myself re-writing the rest to match! For me, the consolation is I always feel better once I’m in the midst of that re-writing. I dread it and curse it and refuse to do it and then at first it’s a slog but then it opens up to this peaceful clearing where everything is right with the world. It might even get exciting again.
Reserving judgment is always a precarious dance for me. And I thought that I wasn't a very judgemental person. Although, I think that often worry more about other's judgement of my characters and by simple association myself.
My characters tend to be "unlikeable" for lack of a better word, although I try to hold in my head that that they are neither good nor bad, but sometimes do things that are questionable and sometimes do thing that lean more towards noble. The closer I can stay in that middle range between the two extremes of good and bad, the better.
I try to remember something I heard you, George, say in one of f countless YouTube videos that I have watched, quoting an old movie: The time to make up your mind about someone is never.
Oh, nope, nope---Stacya & Chris, if this is true you two are better than I am! I made my mind up looooong ago about a certain former holder of high office & long before that office was held.
Yes. Agree. I struggle with all these things, trying to see the beauty in Buddhism --and attempt to be kinder, and yet your example here is exactly why I’ll never get there.
It can be tough when you're trying to figure out a character—what traits make them likable, unlikable, or unlikely to do what you want them to do. Characters need to have some consistency, but we want them to be not only interesting but capable of change, since the story demands that they either change or fail to change (and if they aren't capable of change, we already know the ending).
The mention of Scrooge made me remember something I'd written about A Christmas Carol. Part of what makes us interested in Scrooge—such a cold, greedy miser—is a great detail that Dickens gives him: a sense of humor ("There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are"). I'm a sucker for any character who can appreciate the absurd. Not only does it make Scrooge more interesting and fun to be around, it enables us to believe in his transformation. After all, anyone with a good sense of humor can't be all bad.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve started stories with a purpose in mind only to throw it out because that purpose is too transparent.
There are things I want to explore and discuss by way of a story, but I almost have to ignore that completely and find a way to begin and hope that what’s on my mind seeps in (I think George talked about this before).
I am not good at it and it will take a lot more attempts before I come close.
This was a really good question and a very helpful and instructive answer.
I really want to work harder at letting a story develop without putting too many limitations or boundaries on it. The exercises we’ve done in the past here have helped with this. Writing fiction is still new to me and it works an unfamiliar muscle. I love writing essays, but I really want to be a better storyteller.
instead of starting a story with a purpose in mind, maybe start with a character who "one day" is thrown off their same-old narrow track. Something happens--a problem arises in some way that plays against that particular character's traits. Then, follow along and see what happens as they try to get back to a balancing state.
Essays can & regularly do tell stories, just in a different way. At least for me that's true. Your comment brings to mind Frederick Buechner--do you know his work? His essays always seemed stronger to me than his fiction. Not to discount fiction, but maybe essays are the way you best tell your stories.
Great question fellow Story Clubber. It’s reassuring to know that this likeability compass is something we all suffer from.
Great answer George although I’m going to mull over it a few times over the next few days and really get to grips with what you’re telling us.
On another note, I have tickets to see you in London. Yay! Would love to come and say hello afterwards if not too much trouble. I guess these events are always very busy and everyone is clamouring to meet the writer afterwards but I shall certainly try!
Hey just curious- how is your name pronounced? The first name that is. My mind gets stuck on it, so thought I'd ask! In my head it goes like Chinese say " a" at the end of a name eg Tony-a! or Ken-a!
Thank you for asking! I changed it at age 18, thinking I was cool and original. It's pronounced "Sta-Sha" not like Stacia but more like the name Pasha. My mother convinced me all those years ago it was a Slavic spelling. It isn't. But hey! Maybe no one will steal my identity because my first name is so odd.
These insights are so helpful - thank you! When I consider the issue of likeability, I always think of Larry David's character in the show Curb Your Enthusiasm. The first few episodes, I could not figure the show out. Larry is an asshole and bad things happen to him and you're just kind of like, "well, yeah, of course annoying things happen to him, he has it coming!" But a wonderful thing happens the more you watch the show: you are pulled in so close into the minutia of Larry's life, that you kind of... get him. You don't really *like* him, but he's like a hilarious friend you roll your eyes at and apologize for. So when bad/annoying things happen to him, you kind of go "awww, Larry! HAHA". You want to help him, but you also want him to get what he deserves, and feeling that contradiction is really magic! Once that clicked for me, I switched "likeability" for something like "familiarity". Familiarity can breed both love and contempt - and sometimes both! - but either way, it's definitely not boring.
I just finished watching Seinfeld from beginning to end, and it's exactly the same thing, except you have four people to feel that way about instead of one.
Ah, I need me a little Kramer right now!
Exactly! I love the episode where everyone they've ever met is just testifying about how terrible each one of them is.
One of the G.O.A.T. TV finales, in my humble opinion.
Part of Larry David character charm is that he speaks for all of us. We all think what he is thinking but dont say it. Its his honesty that is appealing!
But do you eat all the 🍤 shrimp in the takeout? 😂
Absolutely, I do eat all the shrimp! Even though I might think there are a few missing, I dont count them out like Larry! ( There should be 20 shrimp per package as advertised). lol
Hahahaha! I like looking back on the show even more than watching it. So many funny "true" moments.
this last season with Tracy Ullman--she was unbelievable. I definitely missed Funkhouser, though. That guy was just brilliant.
Love her.
I also felt this way about It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. The characters are so awful that you begin to love them for it.
There is nothing even remotely likeable about Frank Reynolds, and yet.... Best character on tv?? Possibly 😂
Familiarity is an excellent term to use for n place of likeability. I suppose I always pushed back against the need for a character to be likeable, which really shows in my work. It made for interesting discussion in my writing workshops too. So I must have been doing something right.
I tended to hound any writer I could on this point. More often than not, I go some variation of, a character need not be likeable, merely interesting. I still cling to that, for good or bad 😏
Yes. I too thought about this Georgian entry in terms of the viewer or reader. I remember intensely disliking the narrator/main character of Brideshead Revisited and wondered, at the end, why the novel as a whole was so wonderful. Same with Lolita. I like the distinction between like/dislike and degrees of familiarity. Akin to GS’s in habitation and dislikable but interesting.
(Tried to "like" your comment, but wouldn't let me.) Funny because the actor, Jeremy Irons, who played Charles in the movie version of Brideshead also reads one of the best audio versions of a book I've listened to: Lolita.
Love and contempt: I love that, thank you!
My husband loves that show, I like it in smaller doses, but the way you write about Larry is perfect. I also like his best friend's wife, she's hilarious.
Her outfits!
Haha yes! She is so venomous and over the top when she gets mad at Larry. The two of them going at it is one of the funniest relationships on TV 😂
I agree. “You don’t want a tour of your best friend’s new house??? F%#k you, Larry!”
🤣 just reading that I can hear her voice 🤣
This has made think about the difference between writing for sympathy vs writing for empathy. I believe that I heard once that a good story can make you feel sympathetic for a character, but a great story can make you feel empathetic for them. But I don't know if I buy that. I think it wholly depends on the specifics of the character, but if a hateable character truly has done something awful, I think there can be possibly be some ethical issues with trying to have your reader empathize with them. By attempting to put the reader in that awful person's shoes you're also sort of asking the reader to forgive them. Whereas, if you make this awful person sympathetic in some small way or manor, I think the reader can see and appreciate the complexity of their actions, but still at the same time not defend them. But a little voice inside of me wonders if there is a way to artfully and skillfully create a truly awful and despicable character that can be empathized with. Can that be moral? Because I agree that empathy does feel stronger than sympathy, and I think we should probably always be shooting for the former when we can.
Interesting thoughts. I think it comes down to really defining terms here... To me, empathy isn't so much about forgiving wrong deeds as it is about having a visceral understanding of why the person did the wrong deed (why they thought it was acceptable or necessary). As the empathizer, you can really feel into that choice and try it on. A wall comes down somewhere between you and them and you experience their full humanity. You are still in a position to say "I get it, but you're not seeing the whole picture" or even "I would have chosen differently", but the emotional stakes of saying so are higher.
In the Buddhist tradition, the difference is often put something like - sympathy is "feeling for" while empathy is "feeling with". I think if you can make your readers "feel with" and still ultimately disagree (or feel conflicted about) a characters choice, you have a much more rich emotional minefield and probably less condescension from the reader feeling they are "better than" that character.
I was going to reply to this, but you’ve captured my thoughts better than I would have expressed them.
Great question!
Part of me thinks that if you really do succeed in creating a character the reader can empathise with, then the character is probably not going to be truly awful, in the sense of being vicious through and through, pure evil or whatever. A character that was those things probably wouldn’t have the sort of complex inner/emotional life that would enable the reader to feel the sort of shared emotional bond which I think is crucial for empathy.
And then the question might be: is it moral to present people who have done heinous things or who we might think of as 'truly awful' as having complex inner/emotional lives? And I think the answer to that question can only be yes, because most of the time they do.
Also, as Tasha says, I think there’s a difference between understanding, from a sort of first-person perspective, why someone acted in a particular way, and thinking that that way of acting is justified or morally fine, or whatever. (At least I hope there is…)
Thanks for the thought-provoking post!
Vital and interesting to consider morality of writing character in the face of empathy, Ben, because I think this is where the fear comes from for writers. We think a lot, so we think of what others will think of what we think. My response is that it's the moral responsibility of writers to tell the truth, or in another sense to allow the truth to be told through us and our use of characters and story, and that necessitates sitting with the fuller dimensions of the darknesses we shy away from in any person/character. Is it possible to write the most evil possible in the most compelling manner possible and avoid inspiring empathy? This might be the most important part of characterization. This is where the suspension of judgment becomes necessary. I'm betting this post and discussion today moves many of us past some of the trickier blocks we will ever run up against.
I'm about six months late with this comment, but I'm working through George's backlog of posts and this one struck me as interesting. Your first point on "Is it moral to present people who have done heinous things who we might think of as 'truly awful: as having complex emotional inner lives?' speaks to the one thing fiction can offer that no other medium can. Where else do you get to hear the inner thoughts of an 'evil' person and hear their side of the story, in a truly honest way? In a court case, or an interview post conviction, there is always that lingering question. "is this person trying to lessen the impression of their crimes? Are they trying to redeem their legacy?"
With fiction however, you are right there with them. When it's done well, you are in their head, witnessing their justifications, and can't help but recognize yourself in at least some parts of their actions-- which to me is the first step towards guarding yourself against such people in the world. (and against becoming one yourself) Don't look for a man with a cape and fangs. Look for a version of yourself whose taken a few different turns than you.
Also, for GS, and I think he’s correct, it has to do something with flat vs fully rounded; cliche cut out vs real human being.
This question reminds me of reading George's story "Victory Lap." The story has a clear villain, the predator. But he gives the guy just enough detail and background that I recognize him as a real person. It definitely didn't make me like him, but it at least allowed me to recognize him.
Also, I totally recognized myself in the question writer, especially after George diagnosed the problem. I have so many big ideas I've attached to my story that I haven't given my characters enough room to make organic decisions. In Draft #1, I have to let the chips fall. I hear you.
Thank you George and thank you Loveless in Las Vegas. Great question and a great, insightful answer, as usual. Both reminded me that this idea of being interested or intrigued is ultimately more important than liking or not. It suggests engagement rather than judgement. Perhaps we are talking about a sort of Buddhist detachment and presence. Events and characters happen and I am interested in seeing, knowing and feeling. I don't really need to judge them in order to benefit from understanding or empathizing, or in order to participate in some way. A beautiful concept really. Thank you again George and StoryClub for my weekly dose of group therapy. Like, not like, all I know is it's great here.
I often find myself comparing how I'm living my life to how I write. Slow and plodding some days, rushing in without looking others. This idea of "pre-judging" is dear to me.
About the questioner - "She has put herself, it seems, in the position of sort of pre-judging what the reader will find “likable.” So, in a sense, she already knows what she thinks about them. "
I am slow to judge others, which has led me into a lot of trouble with people. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt, too many times. In younger day, when someone has, say "stolen from me 10 times," I might then say, "hey maybe you can stop stealing from me?" It's not lack of courage. It's wanting to believe in the goodness of people who maybe aren't so good, or see the world differently than I do.
All of this is wrapped up in my strong ethical sense that aligns well with The Four Agreements. When I read Ruiz's book, I found I was already living them - it was confirmation bias, of course. I hate lying, including self-deception. But what I found is worse than lying is "assuming." Assuming is insidious in that it encompasses all other kinds of false judgments and leads to seeing the world through a glass darkly, or seeing the world through dark glass.
I consciously try not to assume much, especially about people, so when I'm caught assuming, it's a shock to my system. Not assuming is very much related to not judging. (I don't know if I'm so much an acolyte of The Four Agreements anymore - 2 of the precepts are stated in the positive and 2 in the negative. I've been working toward having only positive statements in my life. I try to "find a way to say 'yes'" in my life, which precludes "Don't" statements.)
But it's second nature to me to withhold judgments and to not assume. And so this part of George's response resonating strongly for me ... we're intrigued by characters because of "the writer’s refusal to make a judgment."
Whether that character is a good person or a bad person or does a good thing or does a bad thing - if you write it with that good/bad intentionality, so many assumptions get encoded into the creative process that it's impossible for some of those ideas not to seep in and infect the character in a way that they become less fully realized. They become stereotypes and one-dimensional creations of your own authorial assumptions.
When I first started writing back in the neolithic period, and my creative writing teacher said, "let the characters have a life of their own," I guffawed to myself in that young hubristic author way - "I'm the author, I can write her anyway I want. She does what I say she does. I AM...the puppetmaster." That didn't work so well.
But when I finally let go of the strings, writing became similar to how I deal with people in my life, non-judgmental, non-assuming in order to think and hope for the best for them.
"Let's see what this character does....." I tell myself. I'm willing to withhold judgment long enough to give someone or some character a chance to do the right thing or the true thing for them.
It’s a developed skill to not pre-judge or make assumptions about others. We can’t really escape our first knee-jerk assumptions, but we can learn to recognize them for what they are - based in our own experience without full insight into their experience. And thus we choose to withhold judgment.
A practiced and developed skill in life and writing. I think I’ve worked harder on this in life, but it’s a good reminder to work on developing this with my writing. In other words to allow characters to be flawed while not judging them as inherently good or bad. But rather to see how they act when put in different situations.
"He will be read long after these times have passed." That's such a wonderful note from another amazing writer. I'm reading Zadie Smith's "Swing Time" now. Sad that I'm almost done with it. I don't want it to end!
Another great, thoughtful, smart question and answer with so much for us to chew on and think about. I didn't "like" the mother-in-law character in Hurston's story, but boy, did she pop up in only a few short scenes and explain so much to us! She's the character that opened up the past–– we learned that the mother-in-law perceived Missy May's mother as the town floozy, and thought maybe Missie May was "a chip off the old block," didn't want her son involved with women like that, etc. She seemed harsh, and I got the feeling she caused Missy May some grief. Hurston used this complicated mother-in-law to show the reader so much of what was going on, not only in the past, but also during the labor and after the baby was born. A great motivation for Missie May to go back to her husband when she ran into her mother-in-law on the street, not wanting to give her what she "prayed for nightly." This MIL character intrigued me, made me curious, and made the story better.
This post hits straight to the heart of something I see a lot in (particularly) new writers who get stuck. I have an opinion about it but, as I'm continuing to learn myself (especially about short stories), your mileage may vary.
The main issue I see over and over is that the writer has made a commitment to plot over all things including character(s). In other words, a great deal of energy, effort and planning goes into creating and making the story "work", that is in building a beginning, middle and end and all those points in between to tell a complete story. To be sure, there's an entire industry devoted to plot structure. We've all heard those buzzwords: exposition, rising action, falling action, inciting incident, climax, false ending, resolution etc.
When a story fails for me, it's almost never the plot itself but in the disconnect between plot and character.
I'm not saying plot isn't important. I want to be clear about that. But I believe that the best plots are built FROM character not TO character. As George says here, when we create interesting characters and "follow" them, they often will show us where to go. And, I think, they will reveal plot to us at the same time.
I agree, Elizabeth. Stick with the character and the plot will naturally take care of itself.
Yes, but make sure your character has a problem. Throw that character off-balance from their regular routine. Otherwise--no plot or development.
Great point, Elizabeth. This is a great learning exercise, as usual.
That sounds right. Plot is the expression of characters interacting in the dimension of time.
plot is characters being thrown off balance from their stable starting place.
What if their starting place is not stable? Can they be thrown off balance by normalcy?
ha! If their starting place is not stable, then they have been thrown off prior to the start of the novel. So you are already on your way!
Regarding the problem with pre-deciding “what comes next”: I once dreamt some text I thought would make a great final line for a story. Over the next few weeks, I wrote a story to stick in front of it. When I got to the last line, of which I was so proud, I (perhaps inevitably) realized I had to change it. I wonder, then, where that story came from?
Your vulnerability within your analysis is so helpful, Story Clubber "Loveless". We love you.
Dark, twisty psych thrillers are my indulgent viewing genre, but I tend to read heavily in memoir. You'd think there would be no overlap, or at least might hope not if a film is dark and sicko enough, but if you view these two genres in differing forms from the side (like from that fifth dimensional tesseract in Interstellar, peering into a familiar room and time period through the unfamiliar backside of the bookcase), these two different genres in different froms are often templates for each other: little studies into the complexity of character psychology. I trust the characters that clearly made the writer write them into being, hand-to-throat style.
Characters that feel honest in their exposure (you tell me your secrets and I'll tell you mine) can drive me compulsively (I tend to assume anyone) through even a bland story plot. Don't we just want to be inside those other heads, experiencing old views in new ways, or even new views in new ways, with other people of all kinds and not feel the manipulation of a writer's hand or their organized plot motivations? If I remember a writer when in the midst of a story I tend to feel manipulated, and will begin to pull away. Kind of like a bad marriage. Being controlled as a reader or viewer feels slimy and wrong. The truths characters have to tell in order to deliver a story honestly necessarily take us into places that feel universal even if not personally relatable, and not every storyteller follows their characters' honesty over plot intentions, though that's my seduction as a viewer or reader. Seduce me with those honest, complicated characters and keep it real. That is, tell the parts that try to hide!
Let the judgments fall away and let me hear what that character needs to tell me. Get out of the way, Writer. (I say this to myself when I get scared.)
So much power in a single word, though: "likability" is helpful until its limiting. Then we need a new one for the new dare we write. Vividness, intrigue, familiarity, habitation, sympathy/empathy (those are two very separate things in psychology), visceral––I might just make a reference list to remember today's post and some of the words you all used here. Riches. In this comment I used "seduction". The section of work I have to write in later today about a character for whom I feel so many different things, will perhaps need the term "crash". Whatever that character does, it's hard to look away.
Ha! - “if you view these two genres in differing forms from the side (like from that fifth dimensional tesseract in Interstellar, peering into a familiar room and time period through the unfamiliar backside of the bookcase),” - you forgot “with head tilted sideways, squinting, and eye crossed”. Brilliant, Traci.
I agree totally with memoir vs dark, twisty psych thrillers. Same genre right? Turn of the Screw is a memoir.
You mention “the manipulation of a writer’s hand.” I watch a lot of movies, classics, academy award winning fare, looking mostly for good writing. I will stand by this - one of the best acting performances ever was Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. You hear his voice before you ever see him on screen. Hoffman gets out of his own way as an actor and becomes that character, and Barry Levinson was wise enough to get out of Hoffman’s way. So whenever Hoffman’s on screen, you think Rain Man, not Dustin Hoffman.
It’s a similar take to a writer getting out of his own way.
I agree, Lee, about "Rain Man". That was one terrific performance. Saw it with my dear MIL when it came out. She kept poking me in the ribs asking if I thought that was a real person or an actor. Another more recent stand-out, at least for me, was Sean Penn as John Mitchell, Nixon's scabby AG during Watergate, in "Gaslit". I've been an admirer of Penn's work but had no idea, until the credits, that Mitchell was actually Penn. (Julia Roberts, I thought, played a great Martha Mitchell but she was still Julia. I love Katherine Hepburn, too, but same problem; I always know I'm watching KH & less so an actual character.) Following Wgate as I had at the time it occurred I was convinced I was seeing Mitchell on the screen, back from the dead. It took me a minute or two to think otherwise. That guy, Penn, needs an award! I think the idea here, and as it transfers from actors to writers, involves, maybe exclusively, the ability to fully inhabit the character. A matter, as you say, of getting out of the way. Not always easy but doable & from whence flows action & thus is plot naturally built, this as per Aristotle: character is action. Also, Ethan Canin, one of my favorite writers, especially his short stories, & former top dog at Iowa. "Don't write about character," Canin said. "Be that character. Deeply imagine somebody else. And then everything else takes care of itself. Otherwise, it's paralyzing." No truer words, in my experience. (BTW, did you see Kevin Kline in Canin's "The Palace Thief"? Another great performance.)
I haven’t seen Kevin Kline’s performance but I’ve been a fan since A Fish Called Wanda. Haven’t seen the Watergate piece either though I’m sure I’d love it. Sean Penn and I’ll add Gary Oldman and Willem Dafoe get fully into their roles. They’re not the only ones - a little known slouch named Daniel Day-Lewis inhabits his roles too but he’s retired. Something about these actors transforming themselves. I’ve watched a lot of actor’s studio and the cross over for writing is that they often find the character through their voice, how they talk. I think there’s something there.
There’s a very, very bad man in a show called “Bad Sisters.” The actor who plays the horrible man is so good, you love hating him.
An actor so in character that I forget to say their real name in my head is a delight to journey with and a sign of a successful performance! As we've discussed before in here, as writers and readers, the gut feels the reverberance of a kind of truthfulness that the characters carry... as well as a writer's reluctance to embody that character or allow the(ir) story to go where the character needs to go. It's how we end up surprising ourselves with fresh takes. Or how a writer like Hurston surprises us.
Your first sentence above, Traci--that exactly!
It’s not. I was just thinking of a psychological thriller as memoir. A mashup. It totally could be a thing!
My joke landed like a brick, but I think if you ever taught a class on how these two genres inform each other, Lee, it would be a good one!
I’m glad you wrote this post at this particular time, as I have chosen to try to write a character who seems at once very good and very bad. I also love the notions of being as vivid and as open as possible. Thank you for this perceptive and awe-inspiring response!
Feeling empathy for a character does not stop them being villainous. I find it makes them more horrifying. I am thinking of Humbert Humbert of Lolita. We empathise with his tortured life and yet hate what he does. What George is saying, I think is, make the character more believable in flesh and blood, but still doing things true to his character.
I was thinking of that character too.
I loved this. The questioner expressed so well the annoyance I feel when I’ve made a first section better and thus created a ton of work for myself re-writing the rest to match! For me, the consolation is I always feel better once I’m in the midst of that re-writing. I dread it and curse it and refuse to do it and then at first it’s a slog but then it opens up to this peaceful clearing where everything is right with the world. It might even get exciting again.
Reserving judgment is always a precarious dance for me. And I thought that I wasn't a very judgemental person. Although, I think that often worry more about other's judgement of my characters and by simple association myself.
My characters tend to be "unlikeable" for lack of a better word, although I try to hold in my head that that they are neither good nor bad, but sometimes do things that are questionable and sometimes do thing that lean more towards noble. The closer I can stay in that middle range between the two extremes of good and bad, the better.
I try to remember something I heard you, George, say in one of f countless YouTube videos that I have watched, quoting an old movie: The time to make up your mind about someone is never.
That's a good quote, the time to make up your mind about someone is never. It's a keeper. Not that I've never made up my mind about someone...
Oh, nope, nope---Stacya & Chris, if this is true you two are better than I am! I made my mind up looooong ago about a certain former holder of high office & long before that office was held.
Yes. Agree. I struggle with all these things, trying to see the beauty in Buddhism --and attempt to be kinder, and yet your example here is exactly why I’ll never get there.
My train to there is stalled, permanently!, on the track.
You crack me up. Prolly me as well.
Let us meet in the cafe car & drink our way to reason!
It can be tough when you're trying to figure out a character—what traits make them likable, unlikable, or unlikely to do what you want them to do. Characters need to have some consistency, but we want them to be not only interesting but capable of change, since the story demands that they either change or fail to change (and if they aren't capable of change, we already know the ending).
The mention of Scrooge made me remember something I'd written about A Christmas Carol. Part of what makes us interested in Scrooge—such a cold, greedy miser—is a great detail that Dickens gives him: a sense of humor ("There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are"). I'm a sucker for any character who can appreciate the absurd. Not only does it make Scrooge more interesting and fun to be around, it enables us to believe in his transformation. After all, anyone with a good sense of humor can't be all bad.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve started stories with a purpose in mind only to throw it out because that purpose is too transparent.
There are things I want to explore and discuss by way of a story, but I almost have to ignore that completely and find a way to begin and hope that what’s on my mind seeps in (I think George talked about this before).
I am not good at it and it will take a lot more attempts before I come close.
This was a really good question and a very helpful and instructive answer.
I really want to work harder at letting a story develop without putting too many limitations or boundaries on it. The exercises we’ve done in the past here have helped with this. Writing fiction is still new to me and it works an unfamiliar muscle. I love writing essays, but I really want to be a better storyteller.
instead of starting a story with a purpose in mind, maybe start with a character who "one day" is thrown off their same-old narrow track. Something happens--a problem arises in some way that plays against that particular character's traits. Then, follow along and see what happens as they try to get back to a balancing state.
Good advice, Mary, I’ll give it a shot.
Essays can & regularly do tell stories, just in a different way. At least for me that's true. Your comment brings to mind Frederick Buechner--do you know his work? His essays always seemed stronger to me than his fiction. Not to discount fiction, but maybe essays are the way you best tell your stories.
Thanks, that’s encouraging. I’m not familiar with Buchner, but I’ll have to check him out.
Great question fellow Story Clubber. It’s reassuring to know that this likeability compass is something we all suffer from.
Great answer George although I’m going to mull over it a few times over the next few days and really get to grips with what you’re telling us.
On another note, I have tickets to see you in London. Yay! Would love to come and say hello afterwards if not too much trouble. I guess these events are always very busy and everyone is clamouring to meet the writer afterwards but I shall certainly try!
Any other story clubbers attending the event?
I have tickets for the Chicago event if anyone from here is going!
I wish! Wouldn't that be fun.
Hey just curious- how is your name pronounced? The first name that is. My mind gets stuck on it, so thought I'd ask! In my head it goes like Chinese say " a" at the end of a name eg Tony-a! or Ken-a!
Thank you for asking! I changed it at age 18, thinking I was cool and original. It's pronounced "Sta-Sha" not like Stacia but more like the name Pasha. My mother convinced me all those years ago it was a Slavic spelling. It isn't. But hey! Maybe no one will steal my identity because my first name is so odd.
Stah-sha! Oh, wow. I will have to practice that in my head! I've been mind-calling you Stay-sha. I love Stah-sha! Yay for your 18 year-old self!
Yes, Stah-sha. Although I don't get all bent out of shape if someone can't pronounce my name, or says it wrong! It's nice to meet new people here.