Living With Unpublished Characters
Have you read the recent essay here on WU titled Don’t Finish Your Book, by Allison Larkin? The excellent piece led me to download and devour Larkin’s wonderful new book, The People We Keep. You absolutely should read the essay right away, but if the book has yet to appear on your radar, I’d be honored to be the blip that sends you on your way toward making this story a part of your writing journey. There’s so much to say about the book, but for today’s purpose, suffice to say it’s one of those stories that accomplishes so much, and seems to do it effortlessly. I promise, as a writer, it’ll leave you thinking and as a reader, it’ll leave you feeling. I tweeted after finishing that I needed one of those long German words to describe the complex way in which TPWK moved me.
In her essay Larkin relays how her main character, April Sawicki, has been a part of her life for over a decade. Reading the essay and the book got me thinking not just about my own long-unfinished story, but about its primary protagonists, and what a vital part of my life they’ve become. In doing so, I realized that living with them has taught me a lot—not just about writing and story, but about life.
Armchair Historian Writer
Vahldan of the Amalus Clan first popped into my consciousness before I wrote a single word of prose for my first trilogy, sixteen years ago. I was so clueless about writing fiction that I didn’t even realize that what I was doing was pre-writing. My jottings were mostly along the lines of world-building, but I was also constructing a backstory for my main characters. I already knew I had two brothers, one raised in the Gothic world and one raised in the Roman world. The scenario begged the questions: How did this happen? Who were their parents?
The broad strokes of Vahldan’s life came quickly to me, as if I were an armchair historian and I’d stumbled upon a figure who’d had a profound impact on my area of study. It sort of felt like my brain was doing a Google search of this guy, scanning the files of my subconscious. My initial search of the brothers’ father revealed that he’d been a tribal clan chieftain who became a conquering king on the fringes of the imperial world. I also swiftly ascertained that Vahldan’s two sons had different mothers. As soon as I gleaned that he’d died when his sons were too young to remember him, I instantly knew that Vahldan had been killed in battle, targeted by the Romans. Had it been a glorious death? Good riddance to a troublemaker?
Either way, I came away from our first meeting suffused in the man’s legendary status. I instantly recognized that Vahldan was both revered and reviled, depending on who was recalling him.
Vahldan’s guardian Elan—an elite warrior of the Skolani tribe, assigned to his protection when they were both still teens—came to this armchair historian writer in much the same way. I first wrote Elan’s name in the context of a tale relayed to her niece, shortly after the niece is assigned to Vahldan’s son’s protection. I swiftly gleaned that Vahldan and Elan had been romantically entwined, and that Elan was not the mother of either of Vahldan’s sons. Which made for an intriguing knot of drama, yet to be untangled. The cautionary tale of Elan is told to the niece by the Skolani queen, in preparation for her upcoming assignment—a duty that mirrors Elan’s. The thing that stayed with me was the raw emotion of the normally taciturn Skolani queen as she spoke of Elan.
I knew that something about Elan and Vahldan—something haunting, even tragic—was being left unsaid. I was as curious as I made my characters out to be.
For several years, my body of knowledge regarding these two remained like a pair of metaphoric Wiki pages—repositories that the armchair historian writer could add to or alter as new facts came to light. I saw Vahldan as a memory, perceived and passed along by characters who’d known him. Just as I saw Elan though the memories of those who’d known her. It was all a bit vague and detached.
Life With the Barbarians Upstairs
It wasn’t until three years after I’d finished a draft of my first trilogy that I began to write Vahldan and Elan’s story. I steadily worked my way from a pair of résumés of deeds and personality trait checklists to a flesh and blood couple. Through exploring quirks—hidden desires, surprising reactions, ungrounded fears, lingering shames, self-soothing habits—these characters gained what feels to me like the vibrancy of real lives.
What began as an excavation seeking clues became the animation of truth. Along with their vibrancy came no small amount of agency. Time and again, these two have stubbornly shown me that they have their own way of doing things.
Seems like ten years would be time enough to get to know a couple pretty well, doesn’t it? Still, no matter how long or how well I thought I knew them, I kept finding there was more to learn about the barbarians who’d taken up residency in my cranium. Although it happens less often, to this day Vahldan and Elan can still surprise me. Not in regard to the particulars of what’s occurred. More along the lines of how they feel and react. Sometimes the work has been like sifting sand, seeking gems of revelation. Other times it’s felt like trying different things on to see what fits. But V & E are always clear about what fits and what doesn’t, what’s true and what isn’t. Paying heed to them has been vital to staying true to their deepest intentions, often veiled, even from themselves.
It isn’t always easy living with a pair of volatile Gothic warriors upstairs. They tend to act up at inconvenient times. They can be quarrelsome, noisy, restless, and moody. They often drive me to distraction, and have a habit of interrupting my sleep routine. Then of course there have been times when I came knocking and there was nobody home. Occasionally it’s felt like they’ve purposely misled me. There have even been stretches when I’ve felt as though they abandoned me—split without paying their tab and left me with the mess.
Luckily, the effort and its accumulating result has led to an examination of lives that feel all the more authentic to me.
All in all, in spite of their fickleness, I consider having Vahldan and Elan in my life to be a blessing.
The Benefits and Lessons of Tarrying Characters
I believe there’s much to be said for finishing projects and moving on to new ones. I’m sure that there will be new lessons and additional benefits that will arise from this project, even after its publication. But I also think there are unique gifts that I’ve gained through working on these characters and this story over such a long haul. Gifts that I sincerely hope to pass along. Such as:
*The benefit of enhanced clarity—In a recent interview, Larkin describes how she sees April Sawicki, whom she’s known for over a decade, versus some of her newer characters as the difference between technicolor film and videotape. I totally get that. I experience these original characters so vividly—not just visualizing them physically, but intuiting them psychologically. I hold dear the moments that define their lives, their cherished memories, their biggest regrets and deepest sorrows. I hold them dear because they spring from or reflect, in various ways, my deepest truths.
Because it is truth to me, I can only hope it may provide clarity to another.
*The lesson of seeking to change others—After years of trying various tactics and options out on V & E, I’ve come to better recognize that although you might be able to change the way someone behaves, you can never change who they are. I’ve learned that staying true to them only enhances the authenticity I describe above.
Hopefully who they are will be apparent to others, as well.
*The lesson of judging the person and not merely their deeds—As I say, trying to change these two has proved all but impossible. Vahldan can be stubborn and rash, and is prone to rage. Elan can be prickly and standoffish, and even vindictive. Both of them have done some pretty shitty things (one moreso than the other–I’ll let you guess which). Both of them have been broken, in ways that can seem beyond repair. But I know their hearts. I see the roots of intention beyond their bad behavior. In spite of their bouts of blindness to it, I always see that their souls are irrevocably entwined.
After a decade of study of these two lives, I continue to relearn the basic lesson that behavior is not necessarily identity, that we are all human, and the reasons behind the things we do are always complex, often veiled, and occasionally self-denied.
*The lesson of the power of redemption—After a decade with these two, I am more convinced than ever that a redeeming act, earnestly offered in the name of love, can overcome a virtual mountain of mistakes and poor decisions. The redeeming act may not be able to reverse the harm done, but it can restore hope for those who’ve lost it, provide healing to those who’ve been wounded.
Because of my decade with these two, I better understand that it’s the love shared—freely offered, gratefully accepted, and humbly passed along to those who follow—that makes for a worthy life. In the end it’s all that matters. The rest is just noise and distraction from that vital core of our humanity.
Epic Send Off
For better or worse, the time has nearly arrived for Vahldan and Elan to venture out into the world. I have no idea how they’ll be received. I don’t know whether they’ll be lauded or reviled. I can’t be certain whether or not their lessons will be apparent to others. Or whether they might offer new perspectives and lessons, unperceived by me. Those things are beyond my control. I only know that I strived to honor their authenticity.
I believe that the authenticity I sought was better revealed to me by knowing Vahldan and Elan as I learned to know myself.
I was in my mid-forties when these two first took up residency in my cranium, and I’m sixty now. Of course, the lessons and benefits that accrued on the page apply to the life of the writer himself. Because I have lived for such a significant chunk of my life with these characters, I have come to grasp that it’s not what we create that makes us who we are. How we strive will not be the sole measure of our worth.
It’s through our gifts—born of love, made authentic through our striving; freely offered, gratefully accepted, and humbly passed along—that our worthiness will be judged and remembered. And for that, Vahldan and Elan, I thank you both.
How about you, WU? Ever had a character holed up in your cranium? Did they drive you a little nuts? What benefits and lessons did they impart?
