As a reader, it always pulls me out of a story when the author seems to be writing a character they don’t understand or relate to. This can be true of a protagonist or an ally, but I see it most often in antagonists and love interests.
Frequently, it’s because the author is writing a behavior they’ve observed, not an emotion they feel. These characters act in ways that progress the story forward, but their reasoning is opaque, even self-sabotaging. They behave inexplicably because the author can’t see themself in the character.
So when writers pop up on various writing forums to ask how to write a certain type of person, my initial reaction is always delight. A person who is astute enough to recognize their blind spots and brave enough to ask for help is in a great position to grow as a writer.
But while I applaud the spirit of these queries, they frequently lack sufficient detail to get the answers the author truly needs.
What do you mean?
Let's back out a little and look at an absurdist example:
Poster: How do I write a left-handed character?
Replier 1: Just write them like a right-handed character. People are people.
Replier 2: No, I'm left-handed. You can't just write my life like a right-handed person. Grab a can opener and try using it with your left hand. You have no idea how many little hurdles I jump over daily to exist in a right-handed world.
Replier 3: I liked it better when left-handed people didn't make things so political. Do we really need a left-handed person in every story?
Replier 2: Oh, yeah, spoken like a real rightie-tighter for sure.
Replier 3: Reverse-handism!
Poster: I just want to write my character accurately.
Replier 2: Maybe you shouldn't be writing about being a leftie if you aren't a leftie.
Replier 3: I hate leftie-fic.
Replier 4: I make $6,000 a day working from home.
Moderator: This conversation has run its course.
Thread Locked
Where did this question go wrong?
To my mind, it was the assumption that being left-handed was sufficient context to craft a character. Being left-handed in Salem, Massachusetts, circa 1690, is a vastly different experience than being left-handed in some cyberpunk future where bodies can be endlessly enhanced and modified.
The former will necessarily shape the character's personality more strongly than the latter.
But even in the era of the Salem Witch Trials, you can't link every element of a character's experience to this one attribute. Are they male or female? Young or old? Robust or ill? Social or withdrawn? What are their aspirations? Fears? Strengths? Weaknesses? Being left-handed in this time and place has a meaningful impact on the character, but it’s not the sole factor influencing them.
When you use a single attribute as the defining facet of your character, you risk writing stereotypes. But when you ignore the social impact of those attributes, you risk writing a character that doesn’t feel genuine.
So, what? Don’t ask about writing other people? Is this what passes for advice around here?
You've got a point. I've done a lot of nay-saying. But I haven’t addressed the original concern. So, let’s try another example:
You’re writing a contemporary mystery about a left-handed woman who leaves her high-pressure job as a Los Angeles-area forensic analyst to open a vacuum repair shop in rural North Dakota. In the course of her work, she discovers evidence of a murder in the canister of a vacuum she’s repairing.
There are some interesting dynamics here. Vacuum repair is a male-dominated field, and something like 90% of humans are right-handed. So, some more useful questions might be:
- Does anyone know what particular challenges women face in the vacuum repair industry, especially in the US Midwest?
- What sort of experiences are common for women in male-dominated fields?
- Are there any potential advantages to being a woman in vacuum repair?
- Are there any vital tools in vacuum repair that are hard to use left-handed?
Note that these questions don’t ask how to write all left-handed people, or all women, or all vacuum repair technicians. These questions explore how a particular attribute impacts a person’s experience in a specific context.
This allows the author to write a person they understand and who acts and reacts in genuine and logically consistent ways. You may not be a woman, but you can understand being an outlier in a group or being underestimated. You may not be left-handed, but you can understand what it is to use a tool that feels cumbersome or ineffective.
Once you learn to ask the right questions, you will be able to craft a wider variety of believable and relatable characters.