The Care and Feeding of Relationships
By John J Kelley | March 5, 2017 |
A Revealing Scene (in more ways than one)
I stumbled upon something unexpected recently while working on the opening for a potential work in progress. It turns out my protagonist has a son. Well, I suppose that in itself wasn’t a shock. After all, I was the one who placed the youth amidst the brief bridging conflict, having him tag along as an inquisitive preteen might do while his father checks a glitch in the security perimeter for the isolated town in which they live after the collapse of a once great land. The surprise was the realization that this awkward, questioning boy was the center of my protagonist’s world, meaning more to him than his wife, more than his standing in the community, more in fact than he himself will see until much later in the story. And it was in that moment of discovery that all the machinations for the tale I had plotted out in my head instantly fell into place. For I had identified the primary motivator of my lead, and pinpointed a relationship I would need to tease out and understand, just as surely as any individual character arc.
Only later did it occur to me I had experienced a similar epiphany on my first novel, when the protagonist’s relationship with his brother, though not central to the story, had proven key to understanding his past, and an essential thread in his evolution.
Both observations got me thinking about character relationships, from those that bloom in plain sight, like Ove’s thawing relationship with his neighbor Parvaneh over the course of Fredrik Backman’s A Man Called Ove, to subtle ones that sneak up on readers and characters alike, such as Ove’s grandfatherly affection for Parvaneh’s daughter in the same tale. Specifically, I wondered this – What are the keys to crafting realistic and moving relationships between characters? And what are the tools one can use to give those relationships their due, supplying them with the power not only to shape the protagonist’s emotional arc but also to elevate the entire work?
Turns out I could find little discussion on the topic, aside from the usual slew of sometimes questionable advice on developing lifelike characters to a smattering of cautions on how not to portray romantic relationships (apparently the secret is out that love is more than flowery lamentations about someday being together). So instead I pondered character relationships in stories I have enjoyed, as well as exercises from my own writing experience. Here are a few ideas that stood out:
A Worthy Introduction
Ove, protagonist of the aforementioned title, meets Parvaneh for the first time in a comical scene in which Parvaneh’s husband manages to scrape the side of Ove’s suburban home with a trailer before taking out his mailbox a short time later. Sparks fly, literally and figuratively, as Ove and Parvaneh trade barbs, both with each other and at their mutual nemesis at the time, the hapless husband. It is a hilarious scene, for sure. But it is also one that sticks its landing, serving as an opening benchmark for the kinship that will gradually bloom between these two remarkably different yet equally stubborn characters.
Which brings us to our first lesson – First impressions matter. As your protagonist meets each of his or her fellow crew for their shared journey, think carefully on where their travels begin. What behaviors do they display in that initial encounter, with each other and with the reader? Do your characters attract or repel each other, and what do those reactions indicate about each? What seeds are left to explore later? And what questions will linger with a reader, consciously or not, after the interaction concludes?
Respect for the Relationship Arc
In life, even with those we consider constants – our oldest friendships, our families – relationships evolve over time. People age. Circumstances shift. We change. They change. Events pull us closer or drive us apart. Likewise, a protagonist’s evolution reflects in his or her interactions with others. From that initial meeting on Ove’s front lawn, he and Parvaneh undertake a steady circling. While Ove at first resents the intrusion of the new boisterous neighbor and her clan into his decidedly set routine, in each encounter their familiarity grows. Slowly the ground gives way until eventually a connection appears – one still humorous, and still filled with barbs – but a connection nevertheless. Their relationship echoes, and at times prompts, Ove’s journey from thorny recluse to, well, someone with a bit less bite, while all the while his personal stakes rise.
This didn’t happen by chance. Backman crafted each encounter with a destination in mind. In other words, he constructed a relationship arc. As author, editor and writing coach Allison Beckert explains on her Art of Stories blog, “Writing a relationship functions the same way as any story; it requires its own rising action, climax, and resolution.” It may be an easy aspect to overlook, what with all the focus on character development and plot continuity and world-building. But with a keen eye on major and minor relationships in a story, one can find opportunities to use those encounters essential to moving the story as a window to changes happening within the characters, or to underscore important themes.
Fortunately, a lot of the work on this is simply in the awareness, so by making notes on relationships in your work in progress, one may well find they have already instinctively traced the lines and simply need to add details and nuances to elevate what is already on the page.
An Exercise in Isolation
But what if you need more? What actions can a writer take to ensure character relationships grow naturally, and to check if they are doing all they can to shed light on the transformation in progress?
What worked for me on my first novel was a series of exercises I undertook while editing. For each relationship of my protagonist, I stripped out each scene in which he engaged the other character and then read them independently, isolated from the distracting swirl of the rest of the story. In doing so, I could see gaps clearly, places where emotional leaps felt too broad, or moved too fast. The process worked well with the primary relationships, but surprises came from even minor ones. Interactions with his fiancé’s mother and father proved revealing, while chance encounters with a near stranger culminated in a scene one beta reader called her favorite of the entire manuscript. But the joy for me came from honing the relationship mentioned near the start of this post, in which my protagonist moved from mentor to equal with his quickly maturing younger brother.
At the time the decision to focus on relationships using the technique was more instinctive than planned. But in retrospect the exercise yielded more tangible manuscript improvements than any other employed during my revision process.
Those are my observations, and a tool that worked for me. But what are your thoughts? What do you look for in relationships between characters in stories you read, or those you write? Do any character relationships spring to mind as having been particularly well written? Do certain authors have a knack for depicting realistic relationships? Do you employ certain tools to improve how character relationships are depicted and revealed in your own writing? Are there relationships in your current WIP which might benefit from a bit of extra scrutiny? Please share. I look forward to hearing from you.
[coffee]
John J Kelley crafts tales of individuals at a crossroads, exploring themes of growth, reconciliation and community. His debut novel, The Fallen Snow, about a young soldier’s homecoming at the close of WWI, received a Publishers Weekly starred review and earned an Honorable Mention nod at the 2012 Foreword Reviews Book-of-the-Year Awards.
Born and raised in the Florida panhandle, John graduated from Virginia Tech and for a time served as a military officer. Today he lives with his partner in Washington, DC.
Thank you for such a well prepared compilation of advice for writers. I will definitely be looking into your work. It must be excellent.
I personally love JoJo Moyes characters. I could literally feel I was them.
I’m a writer in the making. I hope to accomplish similar joy with my work in some near future. Blessings!
Good morning, Melissa. And thanks! I loved JoJo Moyes depiction of the evolving relationships in a complicated situation in Me Before You. She got the romance right without sacrificing the seriousness of the situation.
Writer Unboxed is a wealth of information, which I can’t possibly take credit for seeing as I first became a part of it much as you are now, simply stumbling upon a post early one morning. What I love about it is it offers such a variety of advice and counsel, due to the different backgrounds and experiences of its contributors. The common theme that binds them all is a love of craft and a desire to elevate the writing of all its followers. That dedication makes for a very welcoming community.
Wishing you the best on your current writing efforts, and hope this – and many other tips from WU – can help you bring your efforts to fruition.
Be well!
Thank you for your post John. It’s a subject I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, so this is helpful.
In Sara Gruen’s Water For Elephants, we see the main character Jacob meet and become involved with Marlena even though she is married to August. I keep asking myself why I thought Jacob/Marlena pairing was better than the August/Marlena pairing (excluding the fact that August was a schizophrenic). Jacob is the protagonist sure, but I think it’s also because Jacob/Marlena made more since to me. It’s as if they were two round gears that fit just right with each other.
That is what I like to see when I’m reading.
Yes, particularly with couples I think that sense the two characters are natural complements – whether or not they see it, which is part of the satisfaction – is key. It takes a lot of care for the writer to get that progression right, having it come across as unforced and seamless.
What I find interesting too is subtle movements from secondary characters that sometimes alter the trajectory of a story. As an example, perhaps the protagonist has a difficult neighbor who, in a surprising moment, instigates a different way of thinking in the protagonist through either words or their own actions. As tension rises, there are ways the arcs of secondary players can intersect with the main plot, adding layers in unexpected ways – for both the writer and the reader. Keeping your eyes open to those moments is important. Staying aware of the moving parts (and creating them in the first place).
James Lee Burke’s series with Dave Robicheaux and Clete Purcel
Ken Kesey’s “cuckoo’s Nest” MacMurphy and Nurse Ratched
Thomas Harris’ Clarice and Hannibal
I certainly recognize the latter two, but James Lee Burke is a new one for me. I think for a series it may be particularly important the relationship stay fresh, even as readers enjoy the familiarity of the couple. An interesting topic on its own.
As for the latter two, I think it reveals something else. Personally, I’ve come to realize that I prefer two well-crafted opponents to most romantic couplings, no matter how well-suited they may be :)
John –
James Lee Burke is brilliant (pulitzer nomination in his history along with other recognition and first book released in 1986).
Newest book is a standalone titled ” the jealous Kind”. Recommend you give it a go.
I believe he’s 81 years old and better than ever.
Nice post. Thank you
Thanks, Tom. I will.
Wow! This post is especially helpful, John. I love your specific strategies.
I’ve long been aware that in most tv drama series, the relationships between the secondary characters are much more interesting to me than the major characters.
I hadn’t thought to apply that to writing. Now I’m wondering if, in addition to considering the relationship arc of another character with the protagonist, it might be helpful to consider the relationship arc between other pairs of characters.
My WIP has a relatively large cast; your post has given me a different way to think about managing it. Thanks!
Thanks, Barbara. I agree, building relationships between characters other than the protagonist is a great way of fleshing them out and can offer new opportunities for exploring the main themes through a different lens.
A recent book that comes to mind immediately which did that exceptionally well was All the Light We Cannot See, by Anthony Doerr. It’s a somewhat lengthy novel, in part because he took the time to develop numerous characters in different locales. After all, it is a book in which the two parallel protagonists – both children at the start of the timeline – don’t even meet until the final pages, and then only briefly.
Yet as he built his multi-layered world, he also took the time to ensure that not only did his secondary characters have their own stories, but that they interacted with each other in ways that evolved over time. It was all done so well, and kept tugging to me as a reader. One of those books in which you want to stay, linger and share in what will happen, despite the precarious times depicted.
Good luck with your wip. If anything, I think examples abound today that show us not to fear complexity. It seems that is what today’s audiences crave, and sometimes demand.
Yes! What we crave as readers, so difficult to sell in a query, or short pitch to agents and publishers
That’s for sure! And so good to see you here, Kalen! As you and I have lamented in the past, it is tough to sell “really good characters” in a query, even more so to say “a lot of really good characters, and great relationships too” – lol ;)
By the way after a day of intensive tasks, I will have time to dive into Robbing the Pillars, which has been beckoning to me each time I see it on my nightstand. So looking forward to the experience. I’ll be in touch, soon!
Excellent advice, John. Being a novice to all of this I only dissected my first novel after it was published and reader feedback started coming in. I was surprised at how strong their feelings were for a couple of secondary characters so studied all of their scenes. But I’d never thought to isolate their interactions with the protagonist to see how well I’d built their trajectory. My current WIP will definitely benefit from implementing my shiny new tool. Thanks again.
Congratulation! Sounds like we come from similar places. I found it flattering when early readers told me how much they liked characters that in some cases had relatively little page time.
As I mentioned, I think some of the lifting can be accomplished in simply being aware and following instinct. For me, it harkens back to that idea of not including a character in a story unless they serve a purpose in it. While I fluctuate between being a plotter and pantser, I trust a writer’s brain will often fill in the gaps and infuse meaning into scenes and characters as long as they start with some intention of what is to come from the scene.
So whether one actually prints the scenes involving a character or the interactions of a character for further study, or simply stays in the moment with them in a focused way (as you may have done naturally), one can likely accomplish the same thing.
Good luck with your future writings. May the muse be with you ;)
John, I was amazed by the depth of characterization and development in Marilynne Robinson’s “Home.” Jack, the true prodigal son, returns to his birth home twenty years after disgrace and flight to his younger sister Glory, who is taking care of Boughton, their ill and diminishing father.
The tension between the father, the old preacher Boughton, and his beloved but lost son is finely drawn, with flares and recession, but it’s matched by the paranoia, withdrawal, tentative truces and old pain between Glory and Jack as well.
And then there’s the implicit but tangible judgment of Boughton’s preacher neighbor and best friend, who is protective of old Boughton and sharply wary of Jack. All this, layered, mostly delicate, sometimes knife-sharp, in beautifully simple language.
To see and to be able to write about the lines, hidden and visible, between characters, with this kind of power. It feels like magic.
I agree. I will check Home out, as it sounds like a story that would swallow me whole.
Though a play, I remember enjoying Rabbit Hole, by David Lindsay-Abaire, which also dealt with intense family drama. And though it was decades ago, I still love the book Ordinary People, by Judith Guest. I don’t think most realize just how closely the Oscar-winning movie – including a real win for Best Picture ;) – followed her original material. Entire scenes and dialog were pulled directly from the page and placed on the screen. She offered such incisive observations of a family in crisis. Magic, as you say.
John, great post, as it adds another dimension to the importance of our secondary characters and how they determine aspects of plot and help flesh out the thoughts and actions of our MC. And Tom’s reference to HOME made me want to read that book again. Robinson does work magic with her characters. She creates a world we do not want to leave.
Thanks, Beth. And, yes, Home is now on the must-read list for sure.
Hi, John:
I think explicitly focusing on relationship arcs is especially important when, at the end of an early draft, you realize that a relationship is more important than you (or the characters themselves) initially thought.
It’s fine and even preferable to provide a surprise at the end, but not if it’s grounded in thin air.
Going back to see where and when you could slip in the moments that build (but don’t give away) the characters’ recognition of what they truly mean to each other is exactly the kind of work that justifies the Eudora Welty gem, “Writing is rewriting.”
Thanks for the thoughtful post, and the nudge to pick up A Man Called Ove.
Excellent observation, David. I do think a dedicated focus on relationships in a tale, while important during the initial draft, is sometimes easier to take on during revisions.
One of my favorite quotes about writing is by an author named Samuel Delany, who observed that “in a very real way, one writes a story to find out what happens in it.” He elaborates that often key points and characters an author thought would be vital to a story end up being minor aspects whereas things one didn’t even consider at the start become paramount. That has certainly been my experience.
I doubt anyone is reading these comments a bit after the fact, but I want you to know your suggestion about isolating the scenes between two characters is golden. Thanks so much for a simple but brilliant technique.
I’m reading, Rita! And thank you. I’m so glad you liked the suggestion and hope you find it helpful in your writing. We all learn from each other, don’t we?