For most of my life, when I would read a character discussing or ruminating on all of her boyfriends in highschool or smoothing her hand over her flat stomach, it would pull me straight out of the story.
Initially, I thought it was just because I was spotty and fat (still am) and couldn’t wrap my mind around the thinking of someone who was thin and pretty and always had been.
When I got into writing, I shrugged it all off with the assumption that the author was also spotty and fat, and didn’t begrudge them playing in fantasy. After all, a lot of fiction is simply who we want to be, or what we want to do.
After I’d immersed myself in the writing world for quite some time, I came to the conclusion that the authors were simply delivering what the public wants. Again, I shrugged it off. We all make concessions if we want to be published and/or develop a following.
Still, every time I read about some poor heroine fending off 5 hotties and still can’t catch a good man, it rips me straight out of the story.
It took me a while, but now I think I understand what’s happening. Eventually, I found that I was correct in that the worst offenders tended to be like me- on the heavy side. Conversely, many of the naturally thin authors that I read did not make the grievous mistake of pointing out how thin, pretty, and/or popular their protags were. Although they always made a big deal out of the rolls of flesh on overweight characters.
Again, I first assumed it was the whole fantasy thing. Now, I may be wrong about this, and it’s just a theory. But. I think writing like this goes back to the “do your research, but don’t let the reader see your research” rule.
When we try to put ourselves in the place of our characters, we have to imagine everything from waist measurement to the scar you (s/he) got from learning to ride a bicycle. The difference is- you don’t need to write about it. This is all information that is transmitted indirectly because it’s something that shapes who your characters are, but it is not what they are. Just as we don’t need to know every tiny detail of life during Regency England to read a Regency and enjoy it.
If your protag puts on a tight, little dress, your readers will assume that your character is (A) a girl, (B) thin, even if not a knock-out, (C) going somewhere appropriate to wearing a tight, little dress. We don’t need to see her think about how hard it is to be a woman with a flat stomach and going to a club/party/restaurant. Of course, if your character is not one of the above things, then that information needs to be transmitted at some point such as “Paul slipped on a tight little dress and watched his beer gut stretch the fabric to its limits. ‘Ah’ He thought, ‘What a lovely evening to attend a funeral’”. But, yanno… on average.
So tell me, do your characters think about the exact coffee shade of their skin? Ruminate about the meaning of their third toe in their religion? Imagine how hard it would be for a heterosexual to understand their homosexual lifestyle? Anyone?
Actually, the third toe would be funny. Please send me a copy of your book if you do this.
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I’m very sparse with my descriptions in the name of realism, especially since I write in first person.
Then I let other characters make observations. But still sparingly.
Sometimes it’s a little hard to NOT tell the reader aobut, say, my protag’s green eyes (no one stares in the mirror and notes their eye color!) but, it’s also not crucial to the STORY.
Exactly! It’s crucial to what’s made a person who they are, but we’re not writing about what made them who they are. We’re writing about present and future. Of course, if your character hates her green eyes, that’s different since it may effect her choices, and, of course, past events that have a direct bearing on current events.
I’m all for too much description in a first draft, just so long as it’s excised before publication.
Third toes, hmmmm. I just wrote a book and the hero has a foot fetish. But it’s on submission, and I have NO idea when it’ll come out, or even if it will be accepted.
*sigh*
I hate this business. It’s not for the impatient.
LOL.
One of the things some of my early readers told me was that they had trouble “seeing” my characters because I spend very little time describing what they look like. Which isn’t a good thing necessarily. But just one or two dynamic details is all it takes.
At one point in my latest story I have one of my characters comparing themselves to another character as far as looks, and that’s how I get out what she looks like.
About those five guys and tiny waists . . . they don’t call it fiction for nothing!!!
I tend to shy away from much detail in character descriptions unless it is really pertinent.
Sam- *snarf* Just let me know when it does become available, and I’ll buy a copy. But I warn you, if that fetish has to do with his religion…..
CJ- Character descriptions are almost as subjective as the novels themselves. Some readers want to see every detail, and some want personality only so they can see the characters they want to see. I know that I often envision a character with different color hair than the author describes. Now I just shrug it off and keep my version.
Just don’t have them staring into a mirror and reflecting (Hah! Reflecting!) on the exact shade of their eyes, and we’ll be fine.
Oh my. 5 men with tiny waists… I like your version better! I may have to stick that into the humorous fantasy shorts I told you guys about.
Travis- Bless you! I like enough description to get me started, but too much? Drives me nuts.
Preach. It. Sister. I’m reading general YA right now, and not only do they suck in those six-pack abs, they detail down to the Prada shoes and Gucci watches with 3 carrets of diamonds (okay, you can tell I know nothing of diamonds ‘cuz I can’t spell that form of carrot!)
My main character gets mooed at, called names and such. I never call her fat in the book. I let the context tell the story. My antagonist gets a little more b/c she competes in beauty pageants. Readers assume she’s at least a size zero or smaller and very pretty.
I mean, I never think about the color of my eyes, or the number of nose hairs I forgot to pluck “that” morning…
Darcie- Yanno, I’ve been hearing that chick lit is filtering down to the YA age group. What you just described is a hallmark of secular chick-lit. I wonder if that’s why? Or maybe the authors think that insecure, spotty, imperfect teenagers want to live in a world filled with toned, rich kids?
It’s one thing to stick that into a private school, but what parent is going to let their kids wear Gucci and Prada to a school where they’re most likely going to get robbed and beaten to a pulp just for having that stuff?
Really? I think about my nose hairs all the time!
Oh yeah. I think it’s Karats, but don’t quote me on that.