Identity and Recognition

The nice thing about living a few doors away from the co-op is that I can get fresh coffee and croissants in the morning without a whole lot of trouble. Which is what I was doing this past Tuesday, since my BFF was in town, snoozing in my apartment, and I wanted to surprise her with delicious breakfast-y goodness.

So I sweatpantsed-it-up (Barbara, did Holly Root let you keep any sweatpants in the Great Closet Purge? Because they are SO COMFORTABLE, seriously) and headed toward the baked goods. While I was filling the waxed bag and cardboard cups, I saw someone I recognized.

Or, I thought I did. I guess, more accurately, I saw someone I definitely recognized, but could not identify. In that he was one of a set of identical twins -- twins I used to know really well, and used to be able to differentiate with ease, but this time ... after all these years, I couldn't discern which twin it was who said, "Hello, Alison, how are you?"

Awk-ward!

Thankfully, I was able to get away with a wan smile and a, "Um, good, thanks," before checking out and heading home, so my ignorance of the twin's identity was not revealed. But it got me thinking ... how do I recognize and identify characters I love, long after reading the books in which they feature?

In other words, what makes a character unique enough to stick in my memory, when it's apparent that my memory can't keep real, actual people preserved?

Is it Hercule Poirot's meticulous little mustaches that make him memorable? Is it Holmes's pipe and violin? Is it Holden Caulfield's cursing, Tess Monaghan's height, Davis Moore's sadness, Luc Moberg's thick glasses, heavy boots, and overwhelming teenage guilt?

I think that in order for a character to have staying power, he has to be more than the sum of his parts. He can't be solely a collection of tics and peculiarities, of preferred wardrobe and stylish haircut, of single emotion and drive. Characters need traits, it's what makes them interesting. (Barbara put this better.) But, when building lasting character -- a character who will be recalled and recognized and identified by readers for the rest of their lives -- it can't all be traits. The traits have to teach us something about the character. The traits have to work together, to fit and make sense and indicate a greater whole.

When there's no sense of the person looming behind the sensibilities, that's when recognition (and, therefore, identification) fails. I no longer have a vested interest in the lives of either one of the twins, and that is why I can no longer differentiate between them. Give your readers a sense of your characters as people -- people with traits, yes, but people first and foremost, and your characters will become people in the memories of your readers.

But if your readers start to run into your characters at the co-op, that might be an indication of a problem ...

[Bonus Jack-O-Lantern picture! Sorry, Blogosphere, but I'm an unabashed pumpkin carving braggart. Mine was inspired by Coraline this year:]

Comments

[Dana King]

Well put. I'm sick to death of characters who are distinguished by gimmicks. I've been told my PI character needs to be more damaged; the immediate reaction when I spoke to some writer friends was to make him an alcoholic or drug abuser. The character trait that will make him memorable--if it does--will have to be something that is part of him, not just stencilled onto to him to make him less "ordinary." It will also have to affect his responses to what happens to him without seeming like a reach, so that, even if the reader is surprised at first, she'll think for a second and say, "Of course that's what he'd do."