The Arc
Years ago I was friends with a woman who was overwhelmingly negative. There were plentiful reasons--difficult childhood, bad relationship, finances, job, etc. She made exceedingly poor decisions. The kinds of decisions that everyone around her--heck, total strangers--could see were decisions certain to doom any chance she had for happiness. Was she sabotaging her life? Could she not see it? Years went by. YEARS. And yet, essentially, nothing changed. Oh, the relationship, job, finances, calamities were different--slightly. But she held onto her negativity. I saw not even an incremental bit of change in her.
I guess what she lacked was growth. Spiritual growth is hard-won. I find people don't generally grow until the Inquisition Team of Life ties them to a rack and turns the wheel--hard. My growth has been "earned" through illness, divorce, pain and suffering, joy, parenting, the day to day difficulties of life--tempered, at all times by an unceasing desire to learn, to find the silver lining. I welcome change in myself.
So relating this to writing, I started thinking about character arcs. Seems lately on more than a few blogs, I have seen bloggers rail against certain authors. They don't call them out by name most of the time. It's more "best-selling author, all of whose books I've read until now . . . . has disappointed me with this latest effort." Very often, it's a series that has now so bitterly disappointed. And I think . . . it sometimes boils down to growth.
When I write, even though I don't outline, I have a very clear character arc in mind. I like the astronomy definition of an arc: The apparent path of a celestial body as it rises above and falls below the horizon. In most books, characters have their eye on the horizon. In some way, shape, or form, they have a goal, something they are striving for. The character arches toward it, reaching, struggling even. They are on some path. The result should be . . . change and growth.
In my darker books, I think I find the character at the end of the book is wiser. They have gone through some trauma, or they have faced a difficult set of circumstances, and they can no longer go back--for better or worse they are changed by their circumstances. By their arc. By what they have learned. Ever in real life meet someone who was cheated on and the old adage is the wife was the last to know? Maybe it's because the spouse is sneaky. But maybe it's because once the conscious crosses that threshold and admits it, life changes. There is the moment before betrayal and the moment after. I think we intuitively pause, sometimes. Maybe the arc wobbles for that moment. Once we change, we can't go back. I could never go back to the person I was at 20.
In my comedies, the arc may be different. More often the obstacle has something to do with love--so it may be reaching a point of self-acceptance, or learning to trust. The arc means the character is changed--but often for the better. The wisdom is the kind we WANT. We're wise enough to know that being a size 2 doesn't guarantee happiness, that people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, that trusting and getting your heart broken isn't so bad as we first thought, that love is a GOOD thing usually. The change is wiser, but in a way we all hope to be changed.
Finally, I have the arcs in my YAs. Those arcs are the necessary changes of growing up. Much as we wish we could protect our kids from every rejection, every mistake we made, every tear . . . we can't. I visited a blog the other day (can't recall whose). It was a mom's blog and she said she wished her kids would never cry, that they would only laugh. I thought about it, and REALLY? I wouldn't wish that. Pain brings growth. Watching your child in pain is the worst agony about being a parent. But it's also unavoidable in the Buddhist principle of Life contains suffering. Unavoidable suffering. So though I give my YAs friends and laughter . . . growing up means . . . GROWTH.
When characters don't change? Those are the books that, I think, readers are dissatisfied with. They seem too light, too fluffy. Like you read confection for two hours, but it's utterly forgettable. Or it's the series where . . . the characters were moved like chess pieces on the board, but did anything REALLY happen?
Change is good. It's inevitable. Thoughts?
I guess what she lacked was growth. Spiritual growth is hard-won. I find people don't generally grow until the Inquisition Team of Life ties them to a rack and turns the wheel--hard. My growth has been "earned" through illness, divorce, pain and suffering, joy, parenting, the day to day difficulties of life--tempered, at all times by an unceasing desire to learn, to find the silver lining. I welcome change in myself.
So relating this to writing, I started thinking about character arcs. Seems lately on more than a few blogs, I have seen bloggers rail against certain authors. They don't call them out by name most of the time. It's more "best-selling author, all of whose books I've read until now . . . . has disappointed me with this latest effort." Very often, it's a series that has now so bitterly disappointed. And I think . . . it sometimes boils down to growth.
When I write, even though I don't outline, I have a very clear character arc in mind. I like the astronomy definition of an arc: The apparent path of a celestial body as it rises above and falls below the horizon. In most books, characters have their eye on the horizon. In some way, shape, or form, they have a goal, something they are striving for. The character arches toward it, reaching, struggling even. They are on some path. The result should be . . . change and growth.
In my darker books, I think I find the character at the end of the book is wiser. They have gone through some trauma, or they have faced a difficult set of circumstances, and they can no longer go back--for better or worse they are changed by their circumstances. By their arc. By what they have learned. Ever in real life meet someone who was cheated on and the old adage is the wife was the last to know? Maybe it's because the spouse is sneaky. But maybe it's because once the conscious crosses that threshold and admits it, life changes. There is the moment before betrayal and the moment after. I think we intuitively pause, sometimes. Maybe the arc wobbles for that moment. Once we change, we can't go back. I could never go back to the person I was at 20.
In my comedies, the arc may be different. More often the obstacle has something to do with love--so it may be reaching a point of self-acceptance, or learning to trust. The arc means the character is changed--but often for the better. The wisdom is the kind we WANT. We're wise enough to know that being a size 2 doesn't guarantee happiness, that people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, that trusting and getting your heart broken isn't so bad as we first thought, that love is a GOOD thing usually. The change is wiser, but in a way we all hope to be changed.
Finally, I have the arcs in my YAs. Those arcs are the necessary changes of growing up. Much as we wish we could protect our kids from every rejection, every mistake we made, every tear . . . we can't. I visited a blog the other day (can't recall whose). It was a mom's blog and she said she wished her kids would never cry, that they would only laugh. I thought about it, and REALLY? I wouldn't wish that. Pain brings growth. Watching your child in pain is the worst agony about being a parent. But it's also unavoidable in the Buddhist principle of Life contains suffering. Unavoidable suffering. So though I give my YAs friends and laughter . . . growing up means . . . GROWTH.
When characters don't change? Those are the books that, I think, readers are dissatisfied with. They seem too light, too fluffy. Like you read confection for two hours, but it's utterly forgettable. Or it's the series where . . . the characters were moved like chess pieces on the board, but did anything REALLY happen?
Change is good. It's inevitable. Thoughts?
Labels: character arc
posted by Erica Orloff at 7:55 AM
32 Comments:
So true, all of it! I'm really irritated with a series this week. More than I've ever been. I keep erasing my rants.
What was that you said about spiritual growth?
This past year has been a huge growth year for me, but I always have this nagging worry that I was braver and stronger when I was younger.
And when the changes in characters resonate with readers - you've struck gold. Even if it's dissimilar to my own life, if I can hang on something in a character that relates to me - or that I'd like to emulate - I end up with a warm feeling and clutching a book to my chest at the end of each chapter.
Hi Spy:
Usually, you know, I write my blog strema of conciousness. This is the first post EVER I have ever edited. I can't decide why . . . I think because it hits the nail on the head of some writing friends are struggling with, and I have two characters whose arcs I am myself struggling with.
E
Hi Amy:
Five of my heroines have been very much like me with big autobiographical chunks. Some have been SO different--but their arcs still reflected something meaningful, I think.
E
In real life, I'm torn between "things change" and "people never change." I'm inclined to think--as tends to be my own case--that significant change occurs due to either some particular trauma like the death or illness of a loved one, or due to a particular decision to make a change (which may very well be a response to trauma).
Anyway,
I think there might be a flipside to what you said, particularly as it applies to series characters. Sometimes series characters don't change, but the readers do, growing out of the series. Sometimes the series characters change as a result of changes by the author (in other words, authors grow, too), and in some cases, whatever readers found in that character has changed too much for them.
A couple of bestsellers come to mind, but I suppose the corollary to the above statement is that sometimes authors and their characters change as well as their readers, sometimes in different directions.
I was thinking Sue Grafton's Kinsey Millhone, who doesn't seem to have changed much over the course of 20 years, partly because Grafton chose to keep her character in the 1980s. I still respect Grafton a lot and read her books, but they don't resonate much for me any more and I think it might be a certain frustration with the character, who still seems to have no friends or people in her life, and in fact, seems to becoming more and more isolated as the books go along. Sort of depressing.
Hi Mark:
I agree. It's REALLY hard to generalize about series. I just had noticed, blog hopping, that there was this theme of dissatisfaction. I tend to make my characters change a lot . . . and some readers may hate that. And there are some series where the character is so unique (Burke by Andrew Vachss) that change . . . well, I cannot imagine it being huge. AND YET . . . Burke had a book in which he thought he found a type of love. And he went darker places than even he imagined, so even in the confines of a very distinct character, I think you can have some change, which in the hands of a skilled writer can be amazing--working in those shades of gray.
On the flipside, as you said, sometimes, it's just wearying after a while when a character in book 10 has the same problems and hangups as book number 1. I feel like some lightbulb, however dim, should come on.
Tricky tightrope.
E
Tricky tightrope indeed. No growth is fluffy, but too much growth can be just as fluffy. In real life Mr. Materialistic Loner does not toss away his million dollar business and move to a trailer park with the woman who cleans his toilets and her seven children just because she makes him 'feel like a better man.'
I think the problem with series is that a lot of readers don't pick them up until they really catch on and then they'll sit and gobble up 5-6 novels one after another. The gestures/phrases/habits that an author uses to keep a character consistent are entertaining when reading 300 pages but 1200 pages or 3-4 books later they just become repetitive and annoying.
I like plenty of series Burke, Kellerman's Alex Delaware, Patterson's Alex Cross, J.D Robb...but I'd never sit and read the books back to back. Ever.
Hi Ellen:
Also a good point. I read back to backs for Burke . . . and Robert K. Tannenbaum's Karp series. I enjoyed them both THAT much. But by book #5, I was ready for some variety.
E
Thanks for sharing the "celestial" arc. It's perfect.
I wouldn't be married if I hadn't changed. Same for him. We were too ignorant when we were in high school to know how to grow a good relationship.
Still wish I didn't have to go through a ridiculous marriage to another person first, but my life is so great now that I can't complain.
Hmm. You always make me think.
The thought I'm thinking now is every story needs characters like your friend who wouldn't change. Because the arc of a character undergoing change enjoys heightened visibility by virtue of the contrast.
Heather:
Marriage is nothing if a lesson in change and compromise in some form or the other.
E
Stephen:
I think the unchanging character is, in Frost's immortal words, representative of that "other path"--the lesser path, maybe.
If you think in terms of romances . . . very often the unchanging character is the one the heroine must leave, because to stay would be to remain "stuck." And someone, or something, some opportunity, represents the opportunity for growth, even if it comes with a price of uncertainty.
E
Contrasting characters that change with those who don't. Good point!
Lots of thinking with this post. And yes, I've been disapointed in writers who get famous and then seem to slack off on quality. Or is it the editing process that gets more, um, streamlined. We can get this book out and make loads of money on it whether or not it's as good as it could be.
Hi Sarah:
I cannot imagine a writer just coasting/slacking, but so many readers do feel like perhaps old favorites do after a while. I wonder whether we, like Mark said, outgrow the writers. Or their well runs dry. Interesting question, I suppose.
E
I can think of writers whose quality has slacked off. It's not just one book, but the last couple. She's lost me as a reader. But I can think of some who are as good or better than they were. It's good to learn from the first and be inspired by the second.
The lack of an ARC is probably why I tire of series books with the same characters after awhile. JK Rowling was smart to stop when she did. She had a nice run. I hope some day I'll be as smart. :)
edie:
We should all have arcs so beautifully imagined as JKR. :-)
E
You've hit upon my Achilles heel. I've thought a great deal about this lately. I learned the whole idea of character arcs from you, and the astronomy analogy is wonderful!
I did read something recently that struck a chord with me when it comes to characters. A very tough editor said that great writing begins with theme. The more I thought about that, the more it made sense. I took it to mean that novels are not real life. Even the most carefully rendered character on paper is still a two-dimensional collection of thoughts, reactions and habits. There's no way to actually capture a true human being in all of our complexity. I mean, really, it takes YEARS of close contact just to actually know somebody else, so how could a few hundred pages do it? Even well-drawn characters rely on readers to fill in the gaps.
A novel, however, is a STATEMENT. We write to say something. And so I think we first have to figure out what we want to say. Then press our characters into service of that larger theme. The lessons they learn support the philosophical foundation of the story, whether it's about love, family, revenge, tolerance, money, sex ... whatever. This is perhaps blindingly obvious to good writers, but it's a lesson I'm learning right now, on the fly.
JVZ
JVZ:
As Mark Terry has said on this blog, the caution is to not get pendantic and have everything scream THIS IS THEME. That's where I think the arcs come into play. Because the theme should be there in the fabirc of EVERYTHING, but woven in a little here, a little there.
I see everything--story, character . . . even scenery--as arc. In Spanish Disco, honestly, the garden and the plants had this rise from Eden-like to overgrown and insane that fit the plot. In my wip with group, I see the plants having an arc--some are sinister, in a way, some thorny . . . the ones associated with Pa are all healing and feeding and nurturing. I don't know if you realized it or "saw" it--but it doesn't much matter. If I'm doing it right, they service the theme with or without that knowledge.
E
You know, it's funny, this writing business. I always go back to the same thing: it's never the same for any two people. In your current WIP, of course I saw the plants are suited to each chapter, somewhat based on their "personalities." It's a beautiful touch, and I am a plant guy after all. But if I was asked is that part of an arc or not, I would say no. I would say it's in support of theme--straight up symbolism. Because, to me, the very word "arc" conjures up a smooth parabola. I am still learning how I best deal with characters' progressions, but for me, it feels more like "staging" than the much more elegant "arcing" of people. Growth is uneven ... often revelatory.
But this is all steamy metaphor -- it's all internal writerly dialogue describing different ways to approach the same Gordian knot.
As for being pedantic with theme ... hmm. That's an interesting topic. I think when authors go off on rants in books -- when they begin to TALK about their theme, rather than simply SHOW it -- the magic is gone. But on the flip side, I would argue that many of the most enduring books are all theme. I'm thinking Animal Farm, Lord of the Flies, Red Badge of Courage, and of course, my beloved Moby Dick. As you said, every page is absolutely suffused with characters and symbolism that are in support of the theme.
Speaking of Moby Dick, this brings to mind Ahab, chaser of white whales. He's actually an interesting character, because Ahab is totally static and, worse yet, utterly monomaniacal. He has literally but one thought throughout the whole book. There is never a moment when Ahab has any revelatory insight into his own sickness. He is beyond redemption. And yet ... Ahab is one of the most enduring characters in all of American literature.
On the other hand, as someone pointed out, JK Rowling's a master of controlling multiple, intersecting character arcs (although also very thematic). I hear she's done pretty well.
Sorry to write so long, but like I said, this is where I'm at right now. This very question is where I spend my days lately, and of course, it's always helpful to bounce these things off other writers :)
JVZ
Hi JVZ:
I guess I think of the garden--hers and Pa's--as having its own arc, but yes, it's just different ways of saying somewhat of the same thing. Though characters' arcs are a lot more arching, I think.
And yeah, it's all in the touch. You cite some great examples. And there is the difference in that intense character who will stubbornly go down with the ship, and Rowling who weaves everyone's arcs in this intersecting way over so many books. And pulled the threads together in the end so brilliantly.
I am right now working on a scene where my character has a pivotal shift and realizes he bears some responsibility for his clan's destiny--yet in book 1, he's 12. I have to make his accepting this responsibility real. Which I think circumstance does. But I think of his arc as wanting to put down his yoke a few times, but always being pulled back. I guess he's the Michael Corleone of the magic world. ;-)
E
"Don't ever ask me about my business, Mom. You can never ask about my business."
JVZ
Hmm. To be honest, I don't think about arcs or themes or any of that scholarly stuff when I'm writing. I think those things--for me--emerge on some subconscious level, maybe, and then might be exploited in the second or tenth draft.
Maybe I should think more about those things.
Anyway, I adore what Hemingway said about The Old Man and the Sea: The old man is just an old man, and the fish is just a fish.
He was very happy with the prose and the entertainment value of the piece, and left the explication of symbols and so forth to the cats in the tweed jackets...
I'm like Stephen, Erica. You always make me think. Nice post!
Hey Erica, I've met people like the woman you mentoned in the beginning. Her entire life was a drama, and when one got resolved she raced to find another. It was exhausting just being around her. I avoid negative people, they're too draining.
I love growth in my characters and life. When you said it's hard-won, so true! And all the more precious because of it.
Thanks for always making me go deep! It's like waking up to a daily lesson, and I love that.
This is very true on many different levels. I do find people who cannot learn and grow to be stuck in a repetitive cycle that can never be broken. I have a similar friend who is hard to take because of it.
With writing, I agree that a character must grow and change. It is an arc because it is a curve up or a curve down or maybe a roller coaster - such is life and so it is in writing. I think it is why people get disappointed when their favorite authors lean on the same old same old of their characters and don't change them at all.
eh I am babbling!
JVZ:
LOL!
E
Jude:
I hear you, but I agree with John that, depending I guess on the kind of book you write, there's something to be said for really pondering your theme.
As for Hemingway, I have to wonder if he really believed what he said--truly. Writing was too important to him.
E
Hi Ladonna:
Right now, I have a lot of Demon Baby drama, but I have hopes at some point life will settle down.
:-)
E
ello:
Exactly. If you can just insert favorite character in brand-new serial killer drama, and at the end of the day, in some subtle way, no change has occurred, it may suit an author for a book. Or two. Or four. But at some point, as far as I'm concerned, the books become about torture porn and more creative ways for serial killers to murder people and then be caught. The books become interchangable.
E
Hm...fascinating.
I have no answers to these questions, only the observation that some of my favorite series feature main characters that don't change so much as the setting changes around them, and depths previously obscured become revealed over time. I'm thinking specifically of Sookie Stackhouse -- it's not so much that she transforms, but that she finds strengths and a darkness in her that she hadn't realized existed.
So, sometimes its the revelation and not the arc that enchants me in a great series.
In fact, I've just read the latest book of my favourite author of all time and I was so disappointed. She's become self-indulgent and forgotten her readers. Damn.
By the way, I just saw the photos of your daughter. She's beautiful and I will definitely show her to my son. Actually, come to think of it, she looks a lot like his girlfriend.
And that photo with the violin is the splitting image of you.
Hi Michele:
Yes . . . I think those incremental little revelations are part of it--what can make a series work.
E
Suzanne:
I am telling you . . . it was rampant the last two weeks on blogs, in emails I got from pals who are avid readers about series.
LOL! If only your son and my daughter weren't oceans and continents apart!!! He is a cutie!
E
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