Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors (2 page)

Before we get into the Seven Secrets, a few background notes about Stanislavsky and Method Acting.

Stanislavsky never claimed to have invented the techniques used in his Method. Rather, he sought to bring together acting concepts honed over the centuries and present them in a logical way. He wanted a clear break from the nineteenth-century
representational
style of acting, which was geared toward mere outward effect. Instead, Stanislavsky aimed for the
presentational
style, which was based on conveying psychological truth. He believed actors should develop such an intimate knowledge of the characters they play that they take on the characters’ inner lives. Actors could achieve this only through discovering the characters’ emotions and motivations. Without such intimate knowledge, Stanislavsky taught, acting would be merely movements and spoken lines—certainly not the embodiment of the life of the character. His worst criticism of an actor’s portrayal was to say, “I don’t believe you.”

That same criticism from a reader—”I don’t believe you”—is just as harsh for us novelists. After all, we deal with the same issues that actors do. No matter the genre in which we write, we seek to create full-fledged characters with a deep sense of human truth, rather than cardboard representations.

Stanislavsky’s “ABC” books on the Method (
An Actor Prepares, Building a Character
, and
Creating a Role
) are considered classics in the art of drama and are still available today. They provide very informative background reading for anyone interested in writing fiction (see Appendix).
Getting into Character
focuses on seven of the most sweeping and eye-opening techniques Stanislavsky covers in these books, presenting them in terms that can radically change the way you approach your characters and their relationship to your story. These Secrets are equally helpful to the “plotter” or “pantser” (“seat-of-the-pants” writer).

Let’s face it—we writers of fiction are a mighty strange breed. We view the world differently. We walk around with voices and shadowy figures in our heads. We tend to stare out windows, mumble to ourselves. The Normals (all those who don’t write fiction) can’t begin to understand us. Only our first cousins, the actors, can come close to matching our eccentricities. For we share the same goal: bringing characters to life.

In sharing this goal, we also share with actors the basic means of achieving it: observation. From the very first, actors are taught to observe. Like actors, we must be ardent students of human nature. We must watch people, take mental notes, become armchair psychologists of human interaction. Neither actors nor novelists need ever be bored waiting in an airport. There is far too much going on around us. In voices, walks, postures, and facial expressions, actors and novelists alike can find inspiration for portraying their characters.

From this point on, of course, our methods of bringing characters to life diverge. Actors portray characters on stage or on screen, their bodies and voices the tools of their trade. They have the advantage of
realization
—they are live people whom the audience can see and hear. Novelists create characters on the page, relying only on words. Our advantage is
imagination
, which can be every bit as effective, if properly activated in the minds of our readers.

This basic difference between writing and acting is the reason we have so much to learn from our cousins. For while we are often tempted to overuse words,
all actors have is action
. An actress can’t turn to the audience in the middle of a play and explain her character’s guilt complex. She must show it. All of us writers have heard over and over again: “Show, don’t tell.” Yet we’ve all read novels whose scenes are full of telling—the motivations are told, the emotions are told, the action is told. No wonder we zip through the story unmoved, our souls unshaken.

Good fiction can be defined with “Five Cs”: convincing characters caught in compelling conflict. As we look at seven techniques our acting cousins use to create convincing characters, we won’t delve into deep study of these techniques from an actor’s point of view. In fact, our cousins may smile at our layperson’s approach to their skills. But we are focusing on
our
art, not theirs. Like thieves in the night, we’ll snatch what nuggets of knowledge we can and flee to our own dens to hunker and grin over their use.

Both beginning and seasoned novelists can benefit from these Secrets. You may instinctively use some them already. But here’s the thing about “instinctive” use. The very word implies the knowledge is subconscious. In teaching these techniques I want to pull them apart. Break them down and show you the components of each one. By studying the
how
and
when
and
why
of each Secret, you’ll store that knowledge in your conscious mind—which is far easier to access when the writing gets tough. And believe me, it will. There will come a day when your creativity is totally out the window. You’re sick, your spouse/child is sick, your parent is dying, or your kids are driving you crazy—maybe all of the above. At that time
all you will have
is your craft. No subconscious creativity—“I just sit down and stuff comes out.”
Your working, conscious knowledge of how to write is the only thing that will get you through. So whatever else you do, study your craft. Whether through this book, or another how-to book, or 100 books (now you’re getting somewhere!)—just do it.
Study. Your. Craft.

So how will this book specifically help you? Ever struggled with these kinds of issues in your writing?

My story is about three young women from similar backgrounds. How do I make each one unique?
(Secret 1)

How do I realistically create a character with experiences I’ve never had or who makes choices I would never make?
(Secret 7)

How do I write realistic dialogue that moves the scene forward?
(Secret 3)

I don’t know how to show what my character is feeling rather than just “telling” it.
(Secret 5)

My hero isn’t three-dimensional. He’s too much of one thing.
(Secret 4)

I write scenes I later discard. Seems like an ineffective use of time.
(Secret 2)

Editors tell me I include too much description. How much is too much?
(Secret 6)

My novel has a sagging middle!
(Secret 2)
      

Here’s a brief look at the Method Acting techniques I’ve adapted and how they can help you with these and other issues in your writing.

Secret #1: Personalizing

An actor has only one body to portray many characters. How does he or she make each character unique? This becomes particularly challenging when two characters are similar in age, education, and breeding. We’ll learn how to create a fresh, new individual each time through discovering the “inner values” or core truths that drive each character’s actions and desires.

Through Personalizing, you can create characters so distinctive that their traits and mannerisms become a critical component of the plot.

Secret #2: Action Objectives

In Method Acting an actor must understand scene to scene what his character wants to accomplish. These objectives motivate the character to say and do certain things. When an actor understands the character’s inner motivations, the actor’s gestures and speech will sound natural and right. When an actor fails to look deep into the character’s motivations, when he’s just reciting lines and moving on stage as has been practiced—he sounds and looks false. Like he’s
acting
. As Stanislavsky would say, “I don’t believe him.”

This chapter will teach you how to give each character specific objectives—stated in the form of action verbs—that will provide believable motivation for movements and emotions within each scene and throughout the novel as a whole. These specific objectives pave the way for conflict, ensuring that no scene will be merely backstory or a “shell” scene that sets up what’s to come.

Secret #3: Subtexting

Many times in a play the spoken lines have little to do with what’s actually being communicated. The meaning lies
beneath
the words. It is “subtexted.” We often use Subtexting in our day-to-day conversations—without even thinking about it. In fact it’s so natural to us in real life that  subconsciously we expect it in a novel. When an author writes dialogue that fails to use Subtexting as it would normally be used, the dialogue will sound clunky. Not true to life.

In Secret #3 we’ll look at how and when to write subtexted conversation. As an example I’ll show you a scene in which just five words of back-and-forth dialogue that sound casual on the surface vividly portray an abusive relationship.

Secret #4: Coloring Passions

A human passion—or emotion—is not all one thing. Take, for example the passion of
love.
You think love is always hearts and flowers? No one who’s ever been in love believes that. Our acting cousins allow their audiences to glimpse moments of many different emotions—jealousy, anger, disappointment, etc.—which blend together to portray love. In Secret #4 we’ll explore the wildly different “colors” or feelings contained in any one human passion and how they apply to our characters.

The technique of Coloring Passions will help you create the three-dimensional characters all novelists (and readers) want.

Secret #5: Inner Rhythm

In order to portray a character through believable action, an actor must listen to his own Inner Rhythm of emotions. Otherwise his movements will seem false, merely “acted” instead of a natural result of what’s going on inside the character. Inner Rhythm may have little to do with the character’s surroundings. Externally, the scene may seem quiet, while inside, a character’s anger or fear or uncertainty is raging. Using two different techniques, we’ll discuss how you can “hear” the Inner Rhythm of your characters, which will then give rise to unique actions and responses.

Through the Secret of Inner Rhythm, you will learn how to create action that arises naturally from motivation.

Secret #6: Restraint and Control

How an actor must fight the clutter of her own mannerisms! “No superfluous movement” is the goal, and to achieve this she must practice restraint and control of her actions. Only then does she become free to move solely in ways appropriate to her character.

For novelists, Restraint and Control apply to the words we use.

Once you’ve determined who your character is, and what he’s feeling, and how he’s going to act out those emotions in a scene, it comes down to the actual writing. You may have it all figured out in your head, but if your sentences are poorly written, the reader won’t feel your character’s emotions.

In “Restraint and Control” we’ll look at how to use vivid verbs and adjectives that create a strong visual picture. And I’ll show you the technique of “Sentence Rhythm” that will help the reader feel—not just read—the action in your scenes.

Secret #7: Emotion Memory

A trained actor can portray any character, no matter how different that character is from himself, by reliving his or her own past experiences and building upon those emotions. This is called “Emotion Memory.” We’ll see just how powerful a tool Secret #7 can be for the novelist. Using your Emotion Memory, you can write about any character facing any circumstance. For there is no emotion or motivation known to man that you can’t find within yourself.

Here’s my promise for this Secret: in the five to ten minutes it takes you to read a scene within the chapter, using your Emotion Memory, I’ll turn you—an upstanding citizen—into a cold-blooded, calculating murderer.

Three points before we forge ahead

Every character in your novel will not require the depth of inner development these Secrets present. Think of these techniques as more germane to your main characters and the important supporting characters—those whom the English author and critic E. M. Forster called “round” as opposed to “flat.” In his book
Aspects of the Novel
, Forster defined flat characters as “constructed around a single idea or quality,” while the round character is one who is “capable of surprising in a convincing way.” In other words, a flat character represents one idea and does not change throughout the novel. The round character is one who adapts to circumstances, learns, and improves. Flat characters are not necessarily bad—in fact, novels need them. One of their best functions is to help display the very roundness of more important characters. Unfortunately, too often our main characters, while needing the utmost roundness, turn out flat. This is exactly what
Getting into Character
is all about: rounding the characters who drive our novels into three-dimensional personalities.