The word characters can relate to one of two things. Probably more than two actually. One are the individual letters and alpha-numeric values that you are reading on screen. A typical story of mine can contain tens of thousands of characters, including wonderful little bundles of joy like full stops, commas, colons and brackets, and squiggly little letters which we’ve unashamedly nicked from ancient civilisations, like morally bankrupt, ethnically diverse looters from an apocalypse stricken electronics store.

World Nations That Use Glorious Alphabet

The Phonecians Used A Variation On These Letters Before It Was Cool

Upon further reading of the initial article I discovered you friendly old kooks were assigning an entirely different meaning to that most ambiguous of words. I laughed for hours, spittle gushing out of my mouth, knocking my skull against several pieces of furniture, waking a family of Ukrainian immigrants next door, and violating several articles of the UN Declaration of Human Rights before coming to my senses and writing a sensible literary article.

Beautiful City of Kharkov

The Tarkovs Came From Here. Obligatory Chernobyl Reference

I relate to and develop my characters like a simile meaninglessly extends a rather drab statement. That is to say without much thought, and with a level of intuitiveness that strange bald children in Manga cartoons seem to possess. And while the Jackson 5 sing and dance in the background, on this lonely and decidely dark Sunday morning, I will attempt to relate to you how I relate to my characters.

Being an experienced actor, who dropped out of HSC drama with mediocre results I can state that I create and inhabit my characters in a manner similar to the techniques demonstrated by Konstanin Stanislavsky. I wrote quite a good essay about that crazy Russian, and it brang my end of year mark up to a respectable score. That was after a wooden performance of mine in a cliché ridden play revolving around an Eastern European coffin salesman. That was not a pun. I was just very unconvincing.

So anyway, like Stanislavsky, I tend to place myself within the skin of the character, adopting their thought patterns, and seeing the entire world through their own very own prescription glasses. I hardly think this is very helpful. I suspect most of you fellas do exactly the same. The only other part that might be a little out of the ordinary is the fact that I construct fantasies concerning them throughout my everyday life. While I’m cutting cheese, listening to my teachers talk, or scrubbing my under arm hair in the shower, I’m wondering about how Josiah Kraft will escape the road blockade in the besieged city of Stalkov, or picturing Judy Xiang strutting in slow motion down a white corridor, shooting mutant vampires from the hip with her R-75 Phaser Rifle. This is also fairly normal too I guess. Except for the whole shower bit. Which is kind of weird.

Buxom Space Wench Is Saved By Space Marine!

I Believe The Expression Is "GRAARL!"

Another thing I found out is that every character I write about is the same. Mainly morally sound, mixed race, introverted poor males in their late teens. Which pretty much describes me except for the intoverted part. And the moral part. And the poor part depending on how you’re measuring income. To go against this I’ve attempted to write from different perspectives. After briefly flirting with the idea of writing about a young Palestinian girl, or militantly Atheist Congolese hermaphrodite. I finally settled on writing a dark tale about an upper class English borderline psychopath who has found himself a job as a high ranking intelligence officer in a science fiction dystopia. The scene where he rips out the fingernails of a captured terrorist seemed to unsettle a few of the girls in my English class. But I’ll be sure to keep you posted.

Kiss kiss.

That Guy You Know.

Participating Parties In Order

Want to follow our blog tour? Here are the participating parties, day by day

December 6– — Tay’s Tape

December 7– — This Page Intentionally Left Blank

December 8– — Embracing Insanity

December 9– — Novel Journeys

December 10– — Crazy Socks and Ninja Bunnies

December 11– — Kirsten Writes!

December 12– — The Land of Man-Eating Pixies

December 13– — A Farewell to Sanity

December 14– — Esther Victoria1996

December 15– — The Word Asylum

December 16– — Teenage Reader

December 17– — Missy Biozarre, Young Adult Author

December 18– — Red Herring Online

December 19–– The Incessant Droning of a Bored Writer

December 20– — Here’s To Us

December 21– –Teens Can Write Too! (We will be announcing the topic for next month’s chain)


11 thoughts on “Characters

  1. Sorry for the late comment… Nice, detailed, well written post as always! Thanks for participating. I was laughing to myself at the beginning when you made it seem like it was difficult to tell which “character” was being referred to. Nice.

  2. I’m quite sorry for the late comment. I was shooting flaming arrows at gigantic sentient blueberries in the wilderness of another planet. Not that I’m trying to one-up you or anything. (Did I mention that they tasted delicious? Once I got over the fact that they were hyper-intelligent.)
    Your writing style is quite wonderful, by the way.
    I sometimes put myself into my characters. Sometimes I just know them enough to divine what they would do in a situation without entering their skin.

    • Tis fine, thank you. I could of eaten some wild turkeys but my friends said they didn’t taste all too good. So ice cream it was.
      I’m not sure I think all that much sometimes, concerning characters and life in general, but other times I suspect I over think things. Like now.

  3. This made me laugh out loud, even though it probably shouldn’t have done – that last paragraph! I also found that all my characters were the same, and I also found that they tended to disturb my friends (and my dreams. CORMAAACCC!)…
    Sorry for commenting so late, this month has been mental. From the lack of comments on all the posts I’ve gone through today, I think I’m not alone.

      • Cormac is the name of one of my borderline psychopath characters. Well, no, he’s not a psycho, he’s a fairy who’s watched the millennia go past, is a bit bored, and has been assigned to watch one of the lennán sidhe, who are the most hated of the whole fairy species, and so it’s perfectly all right to torture them. Which he does. With great relish. Shirtless fairies with whips … yeah, far too many of my text messages recently have contained those words.

    • Ah ha ha ha! I really hope they don’t too 😉 I don’t think they do, where I live – it’s more my parents, who can possibly be see it because they own the broadband, that I’m worried about. I may just delete my internet history, because those words have come up in more than one online conversation over the last week…. Oh, and all my messages on my phone as well … damn it, my parents are NEVER going to be able to read my book, are they?

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