I typically like writing about, it seems, simple and lonely characters with few connections, or characters that are only in an adventure for money, though they are aligned with good more than bad. I like throwing these characters into adventures and seeing them change that way, because a bit of blood and bruises never hurt anyone, and if there's a day to be saved, even better!
I think I'm attracted to the adrenaline of the action more than not. I also like writing about people with the sort of high morals of the 1800's. A more romanticized version, but I can never really find myself sitting down and writing about a person with a habitual drinking problem, or an addiction to bedding unwed ladies. Those end up being side characters. Most often, it seems like the protagonist is kinda British too.....
I will admit, quite a bit of what I like is wrapped up in Sherlock Holmes, Grand Adventures, and Action Couple Romance. It's fun to read and write about high stakes adventures that I can never have, or fantastical elements that will never come true in a million years except for here and now, in this book, movie, graphic novel, etc. Which is maybe why I'm finding that too many of my main characters are perhaps
too simple. I'm not sure if it's in the motivations or in the way I write them, but when I stand back, it's as if they pale in comparison to other works I've read.
Of the recent three that I'm considering writing about for a class workshop:
James Roth, 18, signs up for the military to make sure he and his younger brother can make rent. All he wants to do is keep Thomas safe, and catch a break in life. The rest of the story devolves into a steampunk political/military drama with James and his simulacrum of a brother at the center, but as I'm writing, I find him ... slightly boring. At the beginning at least.
Eddie Meyers, 7, is a mute from a traumatic engagement, and only speaks to a stuffed rabbit he stole from a classmates birthday party. I'm considering having the story build a bridge between he and the classmate he stole from as he tries to work his way out of his trauma, but I'm not sure what he wants besides friends.
Zachariah Rosencraft, 49, an aging globetrotter who gains custody of his goddaughter in the wake of her mother's hospitalization. He's supposed to be a man who's estranged himself from his family in the wake of his own wife's death and gets softened by Grizelda who's character is a work-in-progress, but I've yet to figure out what he's motivated by and his character arc seems a little too similar to other figures; like the grandfather in Heidi, or Scrooge McDuck from Ducktales.
None of them live in a modern era, and none of them seem to have stories down to earth, which makes me start to wonder if I've only ever been dealing in cliches. Eddie is closest to literary story, but I'm afraid to touch it, because it doesn't seem literary
enough. Right now, in my head, he's still engaged in a little adventure with his rabbit, his classmate, and the man who did him wrong, and yet he's not that sort of complex
everyday-joe-that-you-could-pass-by-on-the-street sort of complex. He isn't a normal person.
And I don't know if he's going to be. I like writing about exceptions. I used to say, 'Worthy stories are about the exceptions'. Exceptions to the rules of the universe, exceptions to how our society usually runs, exceptions to what I think is normal. "Why else do we read stories, if not to read about the exceptions?" I used to like doing that- molding characters into being glorious exceptions, one element or two that separated them from the rest, and more importantly, separated them from me. I didn't like getting bogged down by what sort of movies they liked, or if they sleep on their side or on their stomach because I didn't want to write about that. I go to the movies. I sleep on my stomach. Give me something different, something exciting!
And now I find, when I'm trying to be serious about leaving genre behind and writing
really truly literary, for once, I can't come up with a satisfying literary character
or story
. Someone who could be real, that you could find on the street or in the supermarket, or even in jail. A story that could've been told by your aunt to you over the phone.
That makes me actually disappointed in myself, because I considered myself to be a good story teller. At least, better than mediocre, but I'm stumped.