Bad-Ass Characters

I only write about bad-ass characters. My characters always say what I couldn’t have said in that situation (and luckily, I also get to make up the situations in which their bad-assness can be best exposed).

For example, I have really tall characters. My shorter characters are pixie-like, or children. My characters are beautiful, with the faults beautiful people have: a mole (beauty mark) here, and maybe their eyes are too green. I know it isn’t right to picture only beautiful people. But what if I want my movie to be turned into a Hollywood blockbuster? What if I want to have crushes on all my characters?

My characters all speak with concise wit. I try to make the bad ones speak a little less concisely, a little less witty. Maybe they swear once. Maybe they say something inappropriate to the moment. But still: bad-asses, all of them.

I here present a problem: reality. How far from it can I get? I understand that dialogue shouldn’t mimic speech exactly. I understand that characters shouldn’t go to the bathroom within my book. I understand that time needs to jump and place needs to shift and events need to be extraordinary and my protagonist needs to be put down consistently so he can rise up triumphantly, but how far can this book get from reality?

Like, can all my characters be bad-asses?

I ask this question with the presumption that we all want to be bad-asses. And I’m sure we don’t. Some of us want to be boring. But when I’m allowed to dream (which I am every night, and since I’ve started writing, every day too) I dream big. I become big.

I become too big for the scope of a regular me. I need to be a stronger me, a taller me, a more tragic me. And that’s where my characters come in. They are all facets of my ideal me.

What if I had been adopted by parents who never really loved me (not in the way I think parents should) and I had only become more loving and stronger from it?

What if I had grown up in Nova Scotia, dreaming of the Westcoast, and when I came here I realized I had lost myself?

What if I had dropped out of high school and driven across Canada?

What if I had to make the choice between two men who loved me?

I love empathizing with these people I have created, stretching the nuggets of my emotions to places they haven’t been but have dreamt of. I love that, building characters out of me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s