How do I construct characters that live in the reader's imagination?

Whether you’re halfway through tapping out draft twenty three of the novel of the century or recording your emotions on spotting the first blushing violets of the year, you’re doing a job. A fine job, to be sure. A job that many aspire to have but few ever have the courage or application to follow.

Perhaps you write for yourself and have no desire to share your visions and your emotions, your carefully crafted descriptions. That's just fine; there are no rules about why anyone should write. For others, though (and even for the private writer sometimes) there is the desire to connect to other people, to engage their emotions, to invite them into created worlds. And that’s why, as a writer, you’re only doing half of the job – without a reader any words you write can be as sterile as seed falling on a desert floor.  That’s why when you write, try always to think about that invisible reader. You want your words to make her feel the emotions that you or your characters felt; you want her to care, to become involved in your imagined world. Above all, you want her to turn the page to find out what happens next.

Most writing can be classified as fiction or non-fiction, and there’s one big difference; fiction seeks to evoke emotion, non-fiction conveys information.  Most of us are used to non-fiction; reports at work, Facebook postings, emails, tweets and texts, maybe even the odd letter from time to time. Tweets and texts demand brevity, official writing (should) value simplicity and clarity. But carry this over to fiction and you can end up with something so dry that a reader soon gives up the struggle to remain interested.

Look at these three examples:

Non-fiction/reporting: 1700 children are given up for adoption each year in Manchester.

Creative non-fiction: The boy huddled in the chair in the Manchester social worker’s office was one of the 1700 children given up for adoption each year in the city.

Fiction: The boy sniffed away a tear and hoped that the sound hadn’t been noticed.  ‘Don’t cry,’ they’d said, ‘no-one wants to take home a little boy who cries.’ The office door opened slowly and a man and woman peered around as if scared about what they might find.  The woman smiled in his direction like a stranger and he scrunched back into the chair, wondering for the one hundredth time why his beautiful mum had given him away like an unwanted puppy.  What had he done that was so wrong?

In a future article we’ll look at why specific details are so important in both fiction and good non-fiction.

Happy writing!