Still recovering from a recent surgery, I’ve somehow missed the greening of spring, scent of heavy-laden lilacs, hyacinths in full-blooms, colorful tulips, and leafing of aspen in lower elevations.
Any type of health is easy to take for granted — vision, smelling, walking and the ability to stand in a long line at the store.
I’ve learned a great deal of empathy, sympathy and patience for others, as well as myself. So, with humility, I acknowledge without the bad, I’d never know the good.
I caught myself confessing aloud — okay, speaking audibly to my cat, (who continues leery inspection of the knee scooter, walker, crutches and cast), that indeed I’m relearning a sense of wonder.
I’m seeing people, places and seemingly trivial items, yes for how they appear, but also for their natural abilities, knowledge, desires, trials and potential. I’m learning that it’s okay to accept assistance from others, and even ask for help. I’ve learned that, in general, people want and need to help others. Even complete strangers.
So, how am I applying these lessons to my fictional characters? Ahh, sometime as writers it’s okay to give make-believe people a trait from ourselves, as well as experiences. (Please remember, if you create a character just like you, you’re prob’ly writing a memoir.)
Here is one application: On the 16th Street Mall in Denver, I watched a very talented artist quickly create drawings of people from a lunch time crowd. He particularly enjoyed sketching women. Who knows, maybe it was his way to make friends, or hey get a date. Maybe illustrating with such speed helped him deal with stress from his job or homelife. But if I apply my imagination to this scenario, he’s a police sketch artist searching for the one witness to a specific crime. To add a twist to the story, this guy keeps copies of his artwork and those he draws disappear.
That’s the beauty of fabricated characters. Writers create them, put into their back or current story inadequacies, limitations, weaknesses, outstanding qualities or short-comings that will move the plot, and/or subplots, forward. And arc a character’s development.
A second way to use a personal experience or observations is adding emotions. In a new story I’m tackling, both parents of my protagonist died in a car crash before she graduated high school. Even though my parents are deceased, but not in the same way, I pull feelings from my memories. Readers want to experience reactions from protagonists and antagonists. Say, a specific sensation when seeing someone, or when stroking a stray dog, and learn what drives their passions, be them criminal or beneficial for all mankind.
What do all fictional writers add to facts? Imagination and the power of emotion. I will never again take for granted my eyes, nose, feet, legs, knees, back, time, nor imaginings.
I love your observations. And that story about the police sketch artist whose subjects disappear? Oh, yeah! That’s a great story idea!