by Sandra Carey Cody
One of the questions writers are often asked is: “Do you use real people in your books?”
There’s no simple yes or no answer to this question - at least not for me. My characters are cobbled together out of bits and
pieces of a lot of people, myself included.
The old actor, Nathaniel Pynchon, introduced in Put Out the Light is a
good example. He isn’t anyone I know. He’s arrogant and self-centered. He isn’t
nice, but I think he’s interesting. He says and does the mean, hurtful things
that I don’t allow myself to say or do. And,
frankly, it’s nice to have a place to release my nasty impulses where no one gets
hurt.
Sometimes, a fictional character is the result of a glimpse of another human being. On a recent trip to the grocery store, I was in line behind a young woman with two children - a baby sitting in the seat of the cart and a little girl. I’m guessing the child was about six. When it was their turn at the checkout, the mother put their items on the conveyor, the store clerk rang them up, and, without being told to, the little girl started bagging the groceries. Young as she was, she knew what she was doing. First, she very carefully arranged an assortment of canned goods in the bottom of a bag, then she proceeded to place lighter, more irregularly-shaped items on the base she had constructed. When the bag was full, she selected another and filled it with the same meticulous precision. I watched, amazed, and wondered what her story was. Was she just naturally organized? Had her mother or another adult coached her? If so, for what reason? Old-fashioned character-training? Or had a special family situation made it necessary for her to pitch in beyond her years? Did the child enjoy what she was doing? Had she any sense of her uniqueness? She was certainly different from most of the kids I've encountered in checkout lines; there was no whining, no begging for some of the treats that stores place so enticingly at child-eye-level. I glanced at the mother. Apparently, she took the child’s help for granted. I don’t mean that she seemed indifferent. She smiled at the little girl and nodded approval, but didn’t seem to find her child unusual.
This incident lasted no more than fifteen minutes, just a small interlude in a round of everyday errands, but it stuck in my mind. The child will probably show up as a fictional character some day. She'd make a perfect amateur sleuth - smart, competent, someone who slips under the radar and is under-estimated until it's too late. When the story is written, chances are her appearance and actions will be completely different than the incident I witnessed. To tell the truth, I don't remember how this particular child looked. I'm imagining pigtails, but that might change. I doubt I’ll use the supermarket setting but, wherever it unfolds, that little girl's spirit will be present.
One of the questions writers are often asked is: “Do you use real people in your books?”
There’s no simple yes or no answer to this question - at least not for me. My characters are cobbled together out of bits and
pieces of a lot of people, myself included.
The old actor, Nathaniel Pynchon, introduced in Put Out the Light is a
good example. He isn’t anyone I know. He’s arrogant and self-centered. He isn’t
nice, but I think he’s interesting. He says and does the mean, hurtful things
that I don’t allow myself to say or do. And,
frankly, it’s nice to have a place to release my nasty impulses where no one gets
hurt.Sometimes, a fictional character is the result of a glimpse of another human being. On a recent trip to the grocery store, I was in line behind a young woman with two children - a baby sitting in the seat of the cart and a little girl. I’m guessing the child was about six. When it was their turn at the checkout, the mother put their items on the conveyor, the store clerk rang them up, and, without being told to, the little girl started bagging the groceries. Young as she was, she knew what she was doing. First, she very carefully arranged an assortment of canned goods in the bottom of a bag, then she proceeded to place lighter, more irregularly-shaped items on the base she had constructed. When the bag was full, she selected another and filled it with the same meticulous precision. I watched, amazed, and wondered what her story was. Was she just naturally organized? Had her mother or another adult coached her? If so, for what reason? Old-fashioned character-training? Or had a special family situation made it necessary for her to pitch in beyond her years? Did the child enjoy what she was doing? Had she any sense of her uniqueness? She was certainly different from most of the kids I've encountered in checkout lines; there was no whining, no begging for some of the treats that stores place so enticingly at child-eye-level. I glanced at the mother. Apparently, she took the child’s help for granted. I don’t mean that she seemed indifferent. She smiled at the little girl and nodded approval, but didn’t seem to find her child unusual.
This incident lasted no more than fifteen minutes, just a small interlude in a round of everyday errands, but it stuck in my mind. The child will probably show up as a fictional character some day. She'd make a perfect amateur sleuth - smart, competent, someone who slips under the radar and is under-estimated until it's too late. When the story is written, chances are her appearance and actions will be completely different than the incident I witnessed. To tell the truth, I don't remember how this particular child looked. I'm imagining pigtails, but that might change. I doubt I’ll use the supermarket setting but, wherever it unfolds, that little girl's spirit will be present.
So ... back to the original question:
Do I use real people in my books? I’m not sure. Every idea comes from somewhere
and I suspect most writers would have a hard time tracing the finished product
(or character) back to its genesis.
I agree, Sandy. Tracing an idea or a character back to its genesis is almost impossible. Great post! (And I love your story about the little girl who bagged groceries!)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Susan. Glad you stopped by and that I'm not the only one who can't trace her characters' beginnings.
DeleteSandy, I think this is an excellent example of how we writers observe and then file away our observations and impressions for future use.
ReplyDelete"...observe and then file away..." What a perfect way to describe how a writer's mind works. Thanks for sharing, Linda.
DeleteHi Sandy--
ReplyDeleteI like your sense of observation and the way you describe filing away that encounter until it emerges into a character or incident for a story.
Victoria--
Thanks, Victoria. It's beginning to sound like many writers work in the same way.
DeleteWriters are usually observant individuals, and, yes, our observations really do end up in books. I love your little girl story. She'll make an excellent sleuth one day on the pages of one of your books. Great post.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Fran. I wonder if people who don't write think of writers as nosy. I'd describe us as curious.
DeleteI love the idea of "releasing nasty impulses where no one gets hurt." And I wonder how many readers realize how we create our characters from the people we see in the world. Nice post!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Linda. I think we all need a place for those nasty impulses sometimes. Unfortunately, sometimes I remember too late.
DeleteHmmm. But wouldn't this precocious, meticulous, self-controlled little girl make a great villain? Especially in pigtails.
ReplyDeleteAn interesting thought. The Bad Seed? Thanks for suggesting a different perspective. Always a good thing for a writer.
DeleteGood article. I often put people in my stories that I know, helps me create, and keep up with their personalites.
ReplyDeleteDo the people usually recognize themselves in your work? If so, how do they feel about that?
DeleteFascinating question. As authors all we can work with is what we've experienced, either in person or through books, TV, movies, etc., so in a sense I guess all our characters are various syntheses of people we "know."
ReplyDeleteI think you're right, Karen. We have all these memories tucked away to call on when we need them - and often we don't even realize it's a memory. We think we made it all up. Thanks for your insight.
Delete