Creating Unforgettable Characters

by Linda Seger

  In the novel Ordinary People, by Judith Guest, we gain insight into Beth's need to control, through the backstory. This helps explain her inability to deal with the tragedy of her son's death.

  The information comes through Calvin's point of view:

  He [Calvin] can remember a period of their lives when she [Beth] felt distinctly trapped. When Jordan was two years old, with Connie toddling around after him at ten months, both of them spreading havoc in that tiny north-side apartment. "Those first five years just passed in a blur!" he has heard her say gaily at parties. But he remembers them, and remembers the scene: her figure, tense with fury as she scrubbed the fingermarks from the walls; she bursting suddenly into tears because of a toy left out of place, or a spoonful of food thrown onto the floor from the high chair. And it did not pay him to become exasperated with her. Once he had done so, had shouted at her to forget the damned cleaning schedule for once. She had flown into a rage, railed at him, and flung herself across the bed, in hysterics. Everything had to be perfect, never mind the impossible hardship it worked on her, on them all; never mind the utter lack of meaning in such perfection.4

  Backstory information can tell us why a character is afraid to love (perhaps because of a past hurt), or why he or she may have become cynical (perhaps because of the death of a loved one). It can give us insights into motives and actions and responses. It shows us that it s the specific influences in the past that create a very specific character in the present.

  HOW MUCH BACKSTORY INFORMATION DO YOU NEED?

  Many writers make the mistake of including too much backstory information. Through the use of flashbacks, voice-overs, dream sequences, they overload the script with information about the past, rather than focusing on the present.

  What is dramatic is the present—the now. What is past is never as dramatic, even though it can impact on present behavior.

  Carl Sautter says, "What we need to see is how this character reacts now, and if you as the writer know why he's doing it—because of some event in the past—fine. But you don't need to explain it to the audience."

  Telling the audience everything about the character's past can get in the way of what is really important—the revelation of the character in the present. Backstory does not need to be talked about a great deal. Characters who have to sit down and tell about their past life tend to be boring, bland, undynamic. Long monologues, flashbacks, and exposition that give too much backstory information can be deadly, pushing the story backward rather than driving it forward into the future.

  Remember the metaphor of the iceberg? Ninety percent of the backstory need not be in the script, but it should be known by the writer. The audience needs to only know enough to understand what's driving the character and will intuit a sense of the past through the character's present behavior. The richer the backstory, the richer the character.

  Usually, backstory works best when it comes out a little at a time, in short pieces of dialogue. As in the examples above, the incorporation of backstory needs to be subtle, concise, and carefully worked out to illuminate and enhance the front story.

  BACKSTORY IN THE NOVEL

  Backstory works in similar ways in the novel, although it may be incorporated in a different form. As research for this book, I took four Santa Barbara novelists to lunch, and discussed with them ways to work with backstory in the novel. Since they are also writing teachers, they were able to give specific suggestions for both new and experienced writers.

  Leonard Tourney: "The nineteenth-century novelist almost always put the backstory first—they began with the character's childhood. They had all the time in the world to explore the character, that's why the novels were so long. There's hardly a modern novel that works that way. The modern novel is front-loaded and works more like a film: the story has started before the credits come on. Most modern novels are cinematic. "

  Dennis Lynds, author of Castrata and Why Girls Ride Sidesaddle, who writes under the pen name of Michael Collins: "What counts is the story you're telling. The backstory has to accommodate itself to your story. As I'm going along, I'll think I know what the past is, but something may happen in the present, and I'll say, 'No, I have to change the past.'

  "Sometimes when we speak of backstory, we act as if it exists. But it's made up—it comes out of our imagination. As writers, we just put things on paper, and manipulate them. It's like taking clay—and layering and texturing the character. We make it up. It's not dramatic until you need it. It becomes important at a certain point, but not before."

  Shelley Lowenkopf, writer of such mystery and suspense novels as City of Hope and Love of the Lion : "After you figure out who all of the characters are and what they want, and have decided what their relationships are with one another—then you can begin working with backstory. Backstory has to be woven through the back door. When I work with backstory, I fill in the background of all the characters as I go along. Backstory information is not important—until you need it! It's crucial to understand that something happened earlier, that some past event has explained motivation in the present. But you do not proceed chronologically."

  Gayle Stone: "When you first start writing, you can get very confused because there's so much to be aware of. Often you feel out of control, and miserable. So as a new writer, you need to know as much as possible about the backstory, because that knowledge acts like a security blanket. Later, as you become a more experienced writer, you won't need to know so much. As a developed writer, you must know certain things to get started, but you discover who the character is by throwing him or her into situations. I don't want to know everything about my character before I begin, because I want that spark, that surprising element that happens in the process."

  BACKSTORY IN SERIES TELEVISION

  Some television series—"Dear John," "Gilligan's Island," "The Fugitive," "The Beverly Hillbillies," among them—begin with a short under-credit backstory sequence, since the audience must know the backstory to understand the situation. Other series look to the backstory for story ideas and character development. In some episodes, a person from the past will become the focus of the story. As in feature films, sometimes a character reacts in a particular way, as a result of some experience from the past. The more backstory information there is, the more potential there is to create a complex character with the ability to interest audiences week after week.

  Coleman Luck talks about why Robert McCall, the Equalizer, was a particularly complex character: "When creating a character for a series, you need to create one who has that potential inside of them—to continually find something fresh. Robert McCall has been in the CIA. He's been a top agent around the world. He's left it. He's totally disgusted by it now—he's enraged. Those facts create a whole set of whys and its those whys that you have to figure out. That's the road map that unlocks the series to you."

  These "whys" were further explored in the series by having an ongoing character from McCall's past. Control, who was McCall's nemesis, provided opportunities to explore this character complexity:

  "McCall and Control have a multifaceted relationship. When you have a deep and multifaceted character like McCall, it's wonderful to bring in another character that brings a world of experience from their past. They've known each other over many years, so you can tap into anger and caring and all those many feelings that make conflict and relationships."

  In "Moonlighting," the writers tapped into undiscovered areas of David's background to further expand his character. Carl Sautter explains: "One season we discovered that David had been married. It was a discovery that made sense and was usable to construct a particular episode. Most of the backstory unfolded as we worked on it.

  "This information came out as an interesting story idea. We were surprised to realize that there was an ex-wife. In our discussions we learned that it was a very painful separation, so David was handling it as if she didn't exist. And so it became a terrific story about David by the fact that there is suddenly an ex-w
ife—with a good reason why we hadn't heard of her before."

  WHICH SITUATIONS NEED BACKSTORY INFORMATION?

  Although you don't need to know everything about a character's past, there are certain situations where it's necessary to incorporate some backstory information.

  If a character is going through major changes in the present, there often needs to be some backstory information to help clarify these actions and decisions.

  In many Charles Bronson films, backstory explains why he's seeking revenge—usually because of some vicious crime in the past that has not been solved and avenged by the proper authorities. In many of the Sylvester Stallone or Chuck Norris films, backstory explains why these men are risking their lives for a particular mission. In films such as The Karate Kid or Murphy's Romance, we learn through backstory information why the characters decided to move from one place to another. In the pilot episode of "The Equalizer," backstory explained why Robert McCall decided to change jobs.

  Life transitions don't come out of nowhere, but are motivated by certain situations in the past. If a character does something unusual or incredible, or seemingly out of character, backstory will be needed to help explain this behavior.

  If an ordinary housewife in your story suddenly, without explanation, decides to spend the next few months of her life solving a crime, there had better be information in the backstory that explains not only why she's doing it, but why she might expect to solve a crime that the police can't solve.

  You could, of course, show the crime in the front story, and show her husband or lover or child as the victim, thereby establishing a personal reason for her involvement. But you might also decide that in her backstory she was a law student, good at research and knowledgeable about the workings of the law; or that she is a longtime detective-story buff, or she is a member of Amnesty International and has a strong sense of justice; or perhaps her father was a cop; or her mother the victim of a crime that was never solved.

  All of this backstory information can help explain behavior that is not normally in keeping with a character. A detective working on a crime case needs little backstory information to explain it. A housewife would need considerably more motivational information to explain why she is taking this action.

  EXERCISE: Consider creating a character who, at the beginning of the story, decides to journey to India to seek a rare Hindu art object. What information would you want to know about the backstory and character biography? What information would the audience need to know? What would you need to know about motivation? Vocation or avocational interests? Special skills or talents? Any special situation such as a crisis point or a competition or an assignment? Why must the character take this journey now? How might the backstory information change if it took place in 1920 or 1820?

  A CASE STUDY: "MURPHY BROWN"

  "Murphy Brown" debuted on November 14, 1988. The first words we heard about Murphy Brown in the pilot episode were all backstory. We learned that Murphy is returning from a "drying out" period at the Betty Ford Center. In a recent interview, Diane English explained this attention to the backstory:

  "Murphy's stay at the Betty Ford Center and her character as an addictive personality explained a great deal about her. It meant she would be compulsive, even cranky sometimes. By meeting her the day she returned from the Betty Ford Center, we would see her as an interviewer being tested, without any crutch to rely upon. That's what the pilot was all about—the testing of the character and the character trying to redefine herself "

  So the first information about Murphy concerned the immediate backstory. It set up the situation. But the backstory was also used to expand her character.

  "In this first episode, we found out she was very, very successful. Before she even entered the room I wanted to give a little backstory without having it come from her, so we heard some of the characters talking about her. She once stood up Warren Beatty. She's an ex-smoker and ex-drinker. I wanted to paint a picture of someone extremely famous, but who took no guff from anyone, a person who was probably a pain in the neck to a lot of people, but they were fond of her. That told you that she was a character we should like and we should root for her.

  "In the pilot we found out she was an only child. She doesn't know how to share. She fended for herself. We felt we had to do something with a parent since we were all eager to know more about where this person came from. When we introduced her mother, it told us so much about Murphy and where she got her personality from. Her mother was an even bigger-than-life character than Murphy. Murphy felt small when she was with her mother, and inadequate. Most important, she had never said 'I love you' to her mother as an adult. That was the heart of the story.

  "In one episode we brought back her ex-husband, to whom she was married for five days. This helped reveal more about Murphy's life in the sixties when she met this guy and they were both radicals and very impulsive and got married and five days later it was over. There's never been this kind of person in her life since, and just the idea that she might see him after twenty years put her in an absolute tizzy. It raised all sorts of questions for her: Am I still attractive? Is he still attractive? What will he think of my life now? Have I sold out?"

  A flashback sequence in one episode was used to show Murphy getting her job: "This episode took the character back to 1977 when she and Frank were auditioning for FYI. In this episode you could see her edges—she was smoking and drinking and had frizzy hair. She was dressed in an Annie Hall hat and sneakers, and was denying that she really wanted the job and refusing to do things in the accepted way."

  But backstory is useful for more than just the major character. In "Murphy Brown," backstory is also used to expand other characters: "I think we'd like to know more about Jim Dial—what his marriage is like, does he have kids, what his personal life is like outside the office, and what he's like when he lets his hair down. Corky, the same thing. She comes from Southern roots—we'd like to know more about that. We'd like to know more about Miles's backstory. How did he get that job at the age of twenty-five? What kind of family does he come from? Are they proud of him, or not? Does he have brothers and sisters? We're thinking about bringing a brother on for an episode—who is a year older than Miles and starts dating Murphy.

  "We also want to meet Murphy's father. He's divorced from the mother, and he married a much younger woman. Now they have an eight-month-old baby. We expect to have a show where they visit each other. Since Murphy was an only child this introduced an interesting dynamic. She now has a stepbrother, and her father's wife is probably her age or younger than she.

  "I think you define characters by putting them into situations that force them to open up a new dynamic. You can't put a character onstage and let her state what she's all about. That's externalizing. The more successful way of developing characters is actually to create a situation in which they have to react and the way they react is the way you get to know them."

  In the case of "Murphy Brown, " backstory has helped the show define and expand the main character, and has created strong character relationships.

  APPLICATION

  As you develop the backstory of your characters, ask yourself the following questions:

  ■ Is my work with backstory a process of discovery? Am I careful to let the backstory unfold, rather than imposing facts and history on my character that may not be relevant to my story?

  ■ When I work backstory information into the story, am I being especially careful to tell only absolutely necessary and relevant information? Am I layering this information throughout the story, rather than confining it to one or two long speeches?

  ■ Am I working on telling backstory information in the shortest, most concise manner possible? Am I trying to phrase the information so that one sentence can reveal a great deal, in terms of motivation, attitudes, emotions, and decisions?

  SUMMARY

  Finding the backstory is a process of discovery. The writer needs to work back and forth constantly—a
sking questions about the past to further understand the present. This process continues throughout the writing of the story. Backstory continually enriches, expands, and deepens the character. It is often the key to creating a credible character.

  You don't need to be a psychologist to understand what drives and motivates your character. Judith Guest is a novelist known for her psychological insight. Yet she's had very little background in psychology: "My formal training in psychology is minimal. I took one course in college—the psychology of the deviant individual. As a result of that class, I found I was consumed by a fascination with human behavior. I want to turn it over and upside down, and find out why people do the things they do, and why they're motivated to behave the way they do."

  Just as part of constructing a character involves creating the outer character of physicality and behavior, it also involves understanding the inner workings of the character—the psychology.

  A writer needs to understand what makes people tick, to know why people do what they do, want what they want. "Half of writing is psychology," says Barry Morrow. "There's a consistent core, or a consistent unity to behavior. People don't act willy-nilly. To be consistent with human behavior you have to know what people will do in most situations. People don't act without a reason. Every action has motivation and intention."

  Often when we think about character psychology, we think about the abnormal personalities in films such as Sybil, The Three Faces of Eve, David and Lisa, I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, or Rain Man. But underlying motives and unconscious forces are important with any character you create.

  To understand how character psychology might be constructed, let's look more closely at the two Rain Man characters Charlie Babbitt and Raymond Babbitt. Although Raymond is the character who demanded the most specialized research, understanding Charlie's psychology was at least as important— since it drove the story. Throughout this chapter, we will hear from the writers on the project: Barry Morrow, who created the story, and Ron Bass, who did the rewrites.