The journey matters. That’s what a story is: the account of an ‘adventure’, be it a romp through demon-infested caverns or the tale of an old woman’s last days in splendid isolation. And, at its heart, the journey is not a physical voyage but a state of mind. A satisfying story will be one where the characters finish up as different people to those who set out.
This is what I’m getting wrong.
It’s been a gradual feeling creeping over me over the course of several drafts. I have a large cast. Some of the characters I’ve worked with were created on the spur of the moment, designed to fill a need and who have then grown. Others I’ve had in my head for years and I’m finally getting round to setting in an actual story.
Guess which ones I’ve done badly.
Yup, that’s right: it’s the ones I’ve held longest. They don’t grow. They don’t have the arcs. What I’m gradually coming to realise is that I’ve started their tales in the wrong place. They are too complete, too mature: they’ve fought their battles already and have found peace. Great for them but no good for my readers.
When we first see a character in a novel they need to be flawed. They might have incredible powers; they might be geniuses, they might have colossal strength but they don’t have a personality without a flaw. They must have a weakness – either physical or emotional or social – that we must see them conquer.
Which is why the next draft of Oneiromancer must de-age some of my characters. I possibly mean that literally – just take my characters back in time a little – but the crucial thing is that they start at an earlier stage of their development. I’ve skipped the introduction and rushed straight to the climax. No-one likes a Mary-Sue: I must take them back to when they were apprentices, not masters.
This is difficult. I’ve lived with these people for a long time – for too long. They’re fixed in my brain. Hell, they’re wish-fulfilment – the sort of people I want to be. Before I can get it right I need to let go. I need to redefine them in my mind, to divorce them; to sever the emotional bond I’ve built up over a decade or more.
This is a challenge. And I hate hard work.