Thoughts on Censorship from a Sheltered Kid: Banned Books Week

In case you were unaware we are in the middle of Banned Books Week.

We live in a culture that is so full of ire that there is a week where we pay tribute to expensive pieces of time-sucking entertainment that people hate so much that they don't want anyone else - specifically children - to experience it.

I was loathe to write this post because I don't feel like I'm imparting any new or useful information to you, dear reader. I know that if you're reading this then I'm most likely preaching to the choir, or at the very least to the converted.

Alas, I saw THIS today. THIS yesterday. And Many More things in days and weeks prior.

So instead of being a silent, disapproving observer I'm telling you what censorship and everything it entails means to me.

I was a sheltered kid.

My mom was a Momma Bear. I didn't go play in the front yard unsupervised. I didn't walk down the street to play with the neighbor kids. I didn't stay home alone until I was twelve - and even then it was for only two or three hours. I didn't cross the street. I didn't...well, you get the idea.

Indoors. No after school friends. Adult within speaking distance if not within reach at all times.

Mom worked nights, and remember she was a Momma Bear so even my grandparents (who watched me in the evenings/mom's working weekends) abided my Mom's rules Or Else. Everyone in my family obeyed Mom's rules for me. Because...Mom.

Naturally, television and books became my best friends during my formative years.

Strangely enough - considering my career of choice and favorite pastime - no one in my family is a reader. My Nanna (grandmother) reads only on occasion; so maybe one to two books per year. Weird, right?

I can thank R.L. Stine for my nearly religious fervor when it came to reading. At seven years old (second grade) I began devouring GOOSEBUMPS books.

Gore. Dead people trying to kill kids. Monsters chasing kids. Executioners stalking kids with an axe. Kids becoming monsters. Cameras that predict how you die when they take your picture. Ghosts looking for revenge.

Those were all Goosebump books, and by the time I was 9 I had read them all.

Later I started reading the Animorphs books, and the original 14 L. Frank Baum Oz books. But those are easy...those (to my knowledge) are unobjectionable.

When I was 11 I was at the local Books-A-Million and saw THE STAND by Stephen King.

It's a beast of a book. A little over 1100 pages. It was the beginning of the summer, and I was with Mamaw (my great grandmother) and the paperback was $7.99 - fifteen minutes later I walked out with what I didn't know would be one of the greatest books I ever read.

Let's backtrack.

My mother was very young when she had me. I watched all the typical cartoons a kid watched in the late 80's early 90's, and I had a broad selection of Disney films to watch to be sure. But my earliest years while my mom put herself through nursing school we were nearly inseparable. Which meant that oftentimes I watched what she watched because my mother was an adult, and she loved me...and I was almost always within arms reach.

I do remember walking out of my room playing with my toys and Mom leaping in front of the television to block what I now know to be "The Color Purple" from my view.

But I also remember sitting on her lap in our tiny apartment watching what I now know to be "Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors".

My mom shielded me from racism, but not from gore.

While watching "NIghtmare On Elm Street 3" on my mother's lap anytime something spectacularly disgusting was about to happen she would nudge me with her knee and I would turn my head and look at the unicorn picture hanging on the wall next to our front door. It was a tiny 5x7 of a white unicorn up on its hind legs against a dark blue starry background. I would hear screaming then she would nudge me again, and I continued playing with my toys and watching the movie.

I never suffered from nightmares - at all. And to this day I LOVE a good scary movie.

Now I was not allowed to watch "Child's Play" (you may know it as "those Chucky movies") during those early years. I had a My Buddy doll who slept with me...Mom knew where to draw the line. Though what she doesn't know (until she reads this post) is that when we went over to her friend's house to watch the first Child's Play I saw the opening sequence from the hallway. (I have a hint of Sneaky in me.)

I saw John Carpenter's "Halloween" on Halloween night when I was 9. It was the first scary movie that actually scared me. Occasionally I still have a bad dream about being stalked by Michael Myers, but they occur as frequently now as they did then; which is to say once every couple of years.

I was the fourth grader raving about the awesomeness of "Scream" to my friends at school. I had the entire movie memorized by the fifth grade.

Basically I saw every good (and bad) horror movie before I hit junior high.

I remember my mother taking care before letting me watch "Amistad", though.

I didn't see "The Color Purple" until I was 21.

My mother was Excellent at conveying the difference between fantasy and reality. Freddy Krueger, Jason, Michael Myers, Chucky - those classic, bloodthirsty movie monsters were Not Real. Mom said so. They couldn't get me because they weren't real, and Mom said so. I was scared of the dark, of course, but not from the monsters in my closet.

Once I was in bed (with all the lights on - as usual) and on my comforter not eight inches from my face was a cricket.

I let out the shrillest scream.

While I was mid-scream Mom appeared - she didn't "run in", "burst into", or "erupt" she fucking Appeared - in my room wielding a metal baseball bat with a crazy look in her eye.

Then she was furious with me for screaming about a cricket.

But I never worried about a monster in my closet, and Mom was more than a match for anything under the bed.

But racism, hateful violence...those things were real. Those were the things she didn't let me see. I couldn't watch the cartoon G.I. Joe, but I could watch scary movies.

As viscerally as people react to movies like "Insidious" or "The Strangers" that's how I react to "The Help". The courtroom in "Amistad" is a much more harrowing scene for me than Michael Myers stalkng Jamie Lee Curtis through a dark house.

When I read about Ferguson, Missouri I'm more scared of being pulled over by my local police officers than any James Wan film.

We are taught what to fear, and what to hate.

Which brings me to Banned Books Week.

(I hope you enjoyed that tangent.)

We all know Harry Potter turns kids into witches. I mean, duh. It's the most famous and also one of the most challenged so let's get this out of the way...

Church-people hate Harry Potter. I won't call them Christians because I call myself one, and...just No. We'll call them Church-people.

Church-people believe that Harry Potter promotes witchcraft. Plain and simple. Had they a modicum of knowledge of a pagan belief system they would see that it does not. Alas, I don't think anyone who has ever sought to ban Harry Potter has ever read the book. Thus, true to form Church-people perpetuate the stereotype of being biased, unaware, and unreasonable.

Hunger Games. Challenged for its violence. Kids killing kids for sport. Nevermind that these people aren't challenging MMA, Professional Wrestling, or most blockbuster films.

I've noticed Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson series challenged because it: "Offends religious sensibilities" - because once an eleven year old - a READING (most likely somewhat intelligent and self-possessed) eleven year old - gets her/his hands on a Percy Jackson book they're going to start....praying to Zeus?

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian - written for teenagers and it has sex/masturbating in it. Your teen already knows about sex. You had sex to have your teen. If you have a teenager who does not know about sex or masturbating then your teen is lying to you, or you can expect to be faced with some very interesting/expensive challenges in the next couple of years.

There are many comprehensive lists of books that are banned for one reason or another. Some I guarantee you won't even understand what they could possibly think is wrong...but, hey, 'Merica.

I was a sheltered physically, but my reading was never censored.

I finished THE STAND, IT, THE SHINING, and was about to start reading THE TOMMYKNOCKERS when I saw the film "Interview With the Vampire". I liked the movie so much as soon as I knew it was a book I started reading it. I was 12.

The homoerotic tone of the novel is clear and almost ever-present. As a kid just coming to understand his sexuality, and being the only homosexual in my social sphere, I was very uncomfortable. These characters were saying/doing/feeling things that I was struggling to hide at that time in my life. I was a zealous Church-Person Christian, and I couldn't reconcile my feelings within myself, and within those pages were characters who had sexual feelings similar to mine, and I couldn't get behind them (Ha! Crass pun).
I put the book down.

Animorphs ended, and I picked up K.A. Applegates next series, EVERWORLD. Again, I was 12, or almost thirteen. The first book came with a CD that had one song that sort of represented each of the five main characters. It was all punk/alternative rock to my recollection. I don't remember the songs exactly, but I do remember thinking that if Mom heard me listening to this music she would wonder WTF was going on.

The kids in Everworld cussed, drank, and had sex. NOTHING like my beloved Jake, Rachel, Cassie, Marco and Tobias from Animorphs.

Their behavior made young, Britney/N'Sync/Top 40 hits me uncomfortable.

I stopped reading them.

I expected that behavior when I picked up a Stephen King book. Not when I picked a book out of the colorful, brightly lit, kid's section of a bookstore.

An ugly fact of our world is that not every kid loves to read. I only like to read books that I enjoy! (That is my sideways confession of not reading more than ten pages of GREAT EXPECTATIONS my freshman year of High School. Just. Awful.)

My point is that kids who do read for pleasure are masters at governing themselves. They are already aware of Fiction and Non-Fiction. They know their own limits and what they expect of the characters and stories in the books they choose.

Two years after I put down INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE I picked up QUEEN OF THE DAMNED on Valentine's Day (the movie was coming out, and I thought - 'eh, let's give it a chance'). QUEEN OF THE DAMNED is the best of the Vampire Chronicles (and one of the worst films ever made). It got me to read the rest of that series of books. By then I was almost two years older I was more at peace with myself and had come to certain decisions as to how to handle my life and situation. Thus, reading Anne Rice's immortal man-on-man pseudo-sexual but very romantic love stories between creatures of the night didn't bother me in the slightest.

I loved the world of Everworld. Mythology has been my jam since I was ten. I went back a year later (because then there were kids at my school rumored to have sexual relationships and sneaking drinks from their parent's liquor cabinets) thus the lives of the teenagers in the Everworld books wasn't so deviant from the people I went to school with every day. (Also yes, sex and alcohol was common knowledge - commonplace for some - when I was 13).

I read those things that bothered me when I knew I was old enough to accept and handle them. I was subconsciously aware of my own immaturity, and it wasn't the book or author's fault.

Censoring books doesn't protect your children. Censorship doesn't protect your children. Being alongside them, Fighting for them, Teaching them - Those things protect your children. You raising your kids well protects your children.

If you judge something your child is reading (and they like it) you're judging them. You're saying that part of them, this thing they love, is dirty and unsatisfactory - they need to change.

You could learn why they love it (or hate it). You'll learn things about them that way - trust me, no matter how much you think you know your child - you don't. (How well did your parents know you?)

A reading child is something to be lauded and guided. When you fear the unknown, something different, and you take no care to understand it you pass that willful ignorance on to your child. This world has enough hatred and fear.

If you really feel such passionate hatred for a book (a BOOK of all things!) instead of trying to hide what cannot be hidden, know it, read it, and point out to your child the why and the wherefore you believe what you believe and why they should to.

God help me if that creates another bigot, but at least it'll be a critically thinking one. At least it'll be a somewhat intelligent mind that eventually may open to the world around them.

Perhaps I'm too optimistic.

My theory is that if a proponent of censorship truly tried to understand what book they're so fervently arguing against then we wouldn't have a Banned Books Week. Everyone would shut the hell up and at least say, "hey, we'll agree to disagree".

But limiting a child's freedom - the freedom to read whatever they wish - you're teaching them that it's okay to limit the freedom of others. And worse, you're teaching them that even the most unsound, unreasonable arguments can be legitimized under the umbrella of "for your protection".

As we can see on the news every single day the "for your protection" argument has far-reaching and damning consequences.

So read a Banned Book, especially if you're trying to ban one. One of the best ways to win an argument is to advocate your opponent's point of view first. So do that - if you have a problem with a book read it. Understand why people have an overwhelmingly positive reaction to it, and formulate your opposing position accordingly.....but I sincerely believe that if people did that I wouldn't be up here teetering on a soapbox.

Shut up and read a book.

Until we meet again...

How I became a writer...

I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.

 

For those of you who even casually know me this should come as no surprise.

I got my very first role when I was five years old.

To be fair every kid in my kindergarten class got a role in the Christmas play, but I was very excited nonetheless.

I was a Wise Man (Ha!). Specifically I was the Wise Man who brought gold to baby Jesus.

I remember very little of the big night aside from grinning at my friend Taylor, who was playing the Virgin Mary backstage just before she took her place.

Minutes later it was my turn.

I had a Styrofoam container painted with gold glitter paint with three little faux pearls hot glued to the top (made by Mrs. Lane’s teaching assistant).

We knelt before the baby doll in the manger, and I grinned at Taylor because EVERYONE WAS WATCHING US. Then on cue I stood up and walked off the stage….with my gift for baby Jesus still in my hands.

I don’t think anyone noticed except my Nanna (grandmother).

Years later we laughed about it; she called me “the selfish Wise Man”.

 

My technique improved rapidly over the years. I was in every single play at school and at church.

In fourth grade Mrs. May convinced me that I was going to be a famous actor someday.

Me! A movie star!

I had my whole life mapped out by the time I was eleven.  My penchant for writing stories had developed by then. Stephen King and his body of work convinced me that I could give life to my somewhat dark imagination. So I was going to be a movie star, but when I wasn’t “on set” I would be writing my next best-selling horror novel.

By high school I had thoroughly established myself as a theatre kid.

That’s also when I started to notice that I was…different.

 

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve always known I was different (pertaining to one circumstance or another).

I went to school in a town of 6,000 people. My graduating class was 128 kids.

I was one of three kids in my high school who was – or was some variation of – black.

My freshman year there was a girl who was a junior that was half-black.

When I was a senior there was a freshman kid who was black.

That’s all.

We did have a small Mexican population, but I was certainly the only person of color in theatre in all my scholastic years.

I was sixteen when I noticed it.

Then I began to see it in movies, and on television.

The roles I got in school and church would never be The Son, The Father, The Brother…all of my cast-mates were white. I knew that should I embark on a career performing that the situation would not be any different. There are, of course, familial roles for black characters or people of color, but not any of the shows/venues within reach of me.

At sixteen years old, my junior year in high school, as all of my senior friends were preparing for their college adventures I realized that my life/dream as an actor – a “movie star” – would never be what I wanted it to be. I would be the Best Friend, the voice-over (I sound relatively Caucasian – depending on the circumstance). I would Never be a leading man. Pursuing a career that seemed so self-defeating for someone with brown skin I instantly decided was silly and pointless.

 I remember that day in my theatre class very distinctly.

In an hour and a half my life goals changed.

I asked myself, “What is something where you can be great, and what you look like doesn’t matter? What is something that you can do that is creative and freeing?”

My mind instantly turned to the story that I had been daydreaming about, and in that very moment I knew I was going to be an author…a novelist…a writer.

I was so excited in that moment because a whole new life stretched out before me. One where no one would care that I was brown, and it wouldn’t inhibit anything I said. There would be no constantly unattainable role, or dynamic that I didn’t fit.

Truly, writing plays to all my strengths – external influences pushed me into performing, but writing stories was something totally, entirely me.

 

You might say “But Colten, how silly! Look at Mindy Kaling now – blazing trails as a minority lead in her very own successful show! Look at Will Smith! Look at Denzel! Look at Tyler Perry!”

My retort would be to ask you to continue naming names.

Because I could.

I could go on for DAYS naming at least 10 white names for every minority actor/actress you name. That’s fine though (no it isn’t, but in this instance it is).

I realized at 16 that I wanted to be worthwhile, I wanted to be remembered, I wanted my life and whatever I did with it to mean something. For me acting would be a completely selfish thing that might have paid the bills for as long as I had work, and I could retire someday with a small stack of films/shows/roles under my belt and happy memories.

But after I was gone no one would really know Me.

I know that not every author is remembered, touted, or celebrated. And trust me I have no delusions of grandeur. Hell, most casual readers can’t even remember the name of the author of the book they read last week.

The stories though. The stories live on. The soul of the author; the blood, sweat, and tears live on even if their name fades into the background.

I don’t care if my name is remembered, but I want my stories to be. If one person – fifty years after I’m gone reads one of my stories then I win.

As an actor My imagination, My daydreams, My Self would have been at the mercy of someone else and shared with no one.

At sixteen years old I deemed this unacceptable.

 

So here I am (a smidge over a decade later) on the road to publication. Just starting out, and for the life I’ve chosen it’s a road that never ends, it only stretches longer with each step taken. My life is an adventure now, and my goal is to share all my weird, crazy, wild dreamscapes with you.

 

What got me thinking about how I got to where I am now is something so idle and ridiculous that I loathe to mention it.

The cast of “Mad Max” - coming to theaters near us in 2015.

I went to IMDB after everyone on Twitter was abuzz with the awesome.

I’m definitely going to see it, but there’s one thing I noticed in a fraction of a second about the cast…

 

	Tom Hardy	...	Max Rockatansky
	Charlize Theron	...	Imperator Furiosa
	Rosie Huntington-Whiteley	...	Splendid
	Zoë Kravitz	...	Toast
	Nicholas Hoult	...	Nux
	Riley Keough	...	Capable
	Nathan Jones	...	Rictus Erectus
	Josh Helman	...	Slit
	Hugh Keays-Byrne	...	Immortan Joe
	Debra Ades	...	Desperate Women
	Abbey Lee	...	The Dag
	Angus Sampson
	Megan Gale
	Courtney Eaton	...	Fragile
	Melissa Jaffer

If I were auditioning/acting today…I wouldn’t be cast in “Mad Max”.

I hope that in thirty years when they re-make “Mad Max” again…because we know they will…I’ll see more variety. But I can walk into a bookstore now and find the variety I long so long for.

 

We have excellent champions of diversity in the literary community. People that I’m proud to spend my money and time on reading their work.

 

By opening my eyes to reality I found my dream.

The publishing community is hungry for diversity in all aspects. It is a world that calls me to be my best self, and most importantly my complete self. At the end of all things, though I write fantastical worlds into existence, I will have hopefully broadened the horizon of this world, and made it richer for everyone who comes after.

That’s how I became a writer. That’s what writing means to me.

 

Character Analysis Part 2!

Oh goodness, brace yourselves, I'm going to try and explain how I think...



In my previous post I talked about how my performance background affects how I write my characters, and how my theatre education helps me flesh them out via character analysis.

A person read my blog! Which shouldn't surprise me as much as it does, but often when I blog I feel like I'm shouting into a void so knowing that someone I don't know is listening (reading) gives me bubble-tummy feels.

This person went on twitter to ask me a perfectly reasonable question:
"...is there a way to teach people with no acting background [how] to make good use of character profiles?"

My immediate response is "YES!" - because I'm an optimist, and in my universe there is a way to do anything.
But then came the hard part...

As I said in my previous post, I plan and plot. Vague versions of the characters usually come first. Once I have a plot from beginning to end I begin my in-depth analysis for each character. I start with the MC then work my way backward until I get to people who are nameless and have yet to exist. Don't break your brain over it. The writing process is a fickle and fluid thing.

So for this MS my main character's name is Eden.
*I'm very careful with choosing character names. Very careful.*
My beginning Character Profile for her looked something like this:
 "Daddy's girl. Quiet, observant, but not awkward. Strong imagination, but not bookish or hyper-intelligent for her age. 16. Lives in small-town Texas. Biracial - Mother is black, Dad is white. Not future-thinking (doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up). Only child. Spoiled, but not bratty. Strong-willed, but easy-going."

Okay...Here's where I fear I'm going to lose you. You're about to get a glimpse into my over-analytical, crazy-pants brain.

"Daddy's Girl" - this is an incredibly important component within the story. With this piece of information I had to flesh out who her father was. His likes and dislikes, then I had to take portions of his personality and graft them on to Eden. For instance, his taste in music...
Eden and her best friend are in a car crash at the end of chapter two. Before they are hit they are rocking out to Janis Joplin. Why not Lady Gaga? Or Taylor Swift? Or One Direction? Well, Eden didn't grow up listening to pop music very often, but she did grow up listening to 70's music, classic rock, and 80's hair bands. So when Eden's best friend let's her pick what music they cruise to it's Janis Joplin.
Later, Eden changes out of a very nice outfit meant for a party, and into "knock-around" clothes. She puts on one of her dad's old Motley Cru t-shirts.
These things tell you what kind of girl she is without telling you. She's low maintenance; she has friends yet isn't a social outcast, but she's obviously not one of the super-popular, cheerleader types. There are many other things that this ONE item on a list of character traits tells you about her...that's just what I get from "Daddy's girl".

These things build on themselves. Eden's a daddy's girl well then we find out a piece of who her dad is. How she was raised affects her relationships with other people. Shy-but-fun people often attract boisterous extroverts as friends. So then we have Madison, the best friend...
Your character analyses begin weave together then snowball...and you have yet to introduce the actual plot!

There's the rub.
Don't confuse a character analysis with anything concerning plot.
Character analysis does not change the story in any way except for changing how it's told. Do you understand?
At the end of all things it doesn't matter what song Eden and her best friend were listening to when a car crashed into them. It doesn't matter what t-shirt she was wearing.
But at the same time it does- at least for me.
Those details add "umph". They add a little bit of "aww, me too" or "I know someone like that"; a little piece of the familiar that we take with us into an extraordinary world (I write portal fantasy).
If you're going to do an in-depth character analysis and mean to use it then make sure it informs your world/story.

Good examples:
Victor Vale in Vicious - he blacks out words in books as an act of rebellion against his parents. He does it to assert his power, and reject/mar their influence. There is no plot significance, but it speaks volumes about the character himself.
Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter (5-7) - wearer of radish earrings, and possessor of encyclopedic knowledge of obscure facts about weird (most likely non-existent) magical creatures. Though we were confined to Hogwarts she gave us glimpses into non-mainstream wizard society, and the world outside of wizard school.
Bilbo, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin in The Hobbit & The Lord of the Rings - love a quiet life, eat several meals per day, and are a notoriously non-adventurous/non-confrontational species. They people they were makes us care about the people they become. They prove themselves to be brave, daring, and selfless as they defy their natural inclinations to save their world. If Hobbits were lithe and beautiful warriors (like Elves), or hardy, desperate, rough-and-tumble brutes (like Dwarves) their journey would be less compelling than the one we know. There would be less heart within the story. It doesn't really matter that they regularly eat Second Breakfast. Second Breakfast didn't help them ascend Mount Doom. What mattered was that they stepped outside of themselves, that was a little piece of themselves that they sacrificed to do what they had to do.
That's the power of a character analysis. It allows you to find those little, inconsequential things that add color and depth to the bigger picture be it either the world you've built or the person.

Character analysis is merely an exercise. The things you glean from it will probably be things lost through round after round of revision, but the little gems you keep make your characters more valuable to the reader.

Some writers, I daresay many writers, may not use them, but I do because if I didn't I would get lost in plot. My characters would suffer from lack of dimension. I don't know if Victoria Schwab, J.K. Rowling, or J.R.R. Tolkien wrote out character profiles. Probably not - they're brilliant, but this is what I do to help my writing.

How you discover these things, and how you implement them are unique to you and the way you think. I can only tell you to find them, and add them in where you can. As a reader I relish those details. They are what make a character unique and memorable.

If you feel that a character analysis is something you'd want to try I'd suggest taking a character out of your favorite book/film/TV show (any character from anything) and breaking their characteristics down as much as you can. See how detailed your favorite characters are. I think you'll find that the most dynamic, intriguing characters are the ones with the most facets. They're the ones you can't sum up in three to five words.
Then create someone who can't be broken down into three to five words. Make someone who is complicated, contradictory but consistent, and make sure they're always moving forward (even if it's at 2mph). The character you begin with shouldn't be the character you end with.


This post is long-winded enough. I fear that I have muddled things more by trying to explain. More successful people out there are full of writerly advice - I'm just trying to explain what works best for me, and why.
The How is the secret that makes you You and makes me Me. I lean on my performance background. You might interview your characters, or make them have conversations with each other, or you might simply go forth with an idea and let your subconscious tell you who they are.

How you implement your character's strengths, quirks, and weaknesses is in your writing voice. If you choose to analyze to find those things is up to you.

If nothing else, I wish you luck! I wish you great writing, and breakthrough moments.

Until we meet again...

Character Analysis - What Theatre Taught Me About Writing

Scrolling through Twitter today I came across a link to a Tumblr post that sort of miffed me.

A well-known, well-loved author (who I read and enjoy) made a statement about Character Profiles, and how they deemed such things extraneous or unnecessary to the writing process. They openly frowned upon them, and in their own words were "hateful" about it.

First, let me say -  To each their own.

Use Character Profiles for your writing if you choose, or don't.
The author who loathes them is a New York Times Bestseller several times over. I'm still in the query stage. By all means if you're looking for the opinion of a seasoned professional don't look here.

Now, on with my opinion - which may I remind you - we have established to be nearly useless.

I use Character Profiles, or as I like to call them "Character Analyses".

I performed (acted/danced - sometimes professionally!) for most of my life. From age 5 to 25.
I went to college on a theatre scholarship.
I can play the hell out of a character.

I was assigned my first Character Analysis in my Acting 1 class my freshman semester in college. Never had my mind been so blown as to what one could discover about a person whose beginning, middle and end was already laid out in a script.
Actors can use a character analysis to find a way to bring their own interpretation of a character to a script. The lilt of a phrase, a tic, a stance, the way they move and walk. If you took one hundred actors and gave them the same part (and all those actors were good actors) you should never see the same performance.
Those details matter. Those details give it individuality, life...reality.

Before I begin writing I outline. I'm a plotter, and planner in all aspects. I love world-building, I love a small mystery, I love dynamic characters.
So...one way I make sure none of my characters ever sound the same? Character Analysis.
And I'm not just talking the same characters in the same book sounding the same - I've written/revised/re-written two polished manuscripts (about to start a third - whee!) and none of my characters sound the same. And if I'm doing my job right then none of them will ever sound the same.

A character analysis helps me write dialogue.
See, because I've gone and observed these characters long before I ever touched the keys on my laptop I know that Eden hates wearing jewelry, she prefers salty snacks to sweet ones, and has more fun dressing up for a party than actually going to the party.
Each of these "minor details" affected the story in significant ways. When she eats in the story (set in a foreign world) the food that you see are only things that she liked and ate - so no sweets. She gets to relish in her appearance yet her semi-antisocial attitude affects who she talks to, how much she reveals in conversation, and the amount of internal narrative that ends up on the page.

In my recently rewritten Middle Grade story I have twin sisters who are almost complete opposites in appearance and personality.
Bianca is a listener, and is more well-read than her sister. Her conversations are more complex than the ones Scarlett has. She is reflective and very self-aware. She does the concept-lifting of the two, while her sister is more action oriented. Bianca reads older than she is because in her mind she IS older than she is.
Scarlett observes a person's appearance first, and so her internal narrative gives the reader clearer pictures of the characters than Bianca's. Her restricted vocabulary is suited to a lazily intelligent, almost-thirteen year old girl. Her conversations deal with the obvious, and the action at hand rather than abstract implications, or theoretical consequences. Being such a direct character she also has fewer moments of introspection. Her chapters tend to move faster. 

I designed it that way.

I knew who these girls were, and I grew so close to them that their personalities and quirks helped plot the book:
This would be best if it happened in a Scarlett chapter
We need to see this through Bianca's eyes because Scarlett wouldn't notice/care.

This isn't something I do for Main Characters only, though.
Everyone of significance (for me this means 95% of all my characters) gets at least a single-spaced page of a biography.
Because every time I have a character speak and every time there's a conversation I perform it. I hear it in my head, and by the end I'm saying it out loud - just like my character would.
And if it sounds the same; if Oliver says something that sounds like a Bianca-ism I change it because Oliver is from Chicago while Bianca and Scarlett are from a fictional island town in Washington. They don't speak the same way.

For me writing is like acting. I get to play a thousand parts; say things the real me doesn't mean, think, or believe - but my characters do. And for me to sell it - for you to believe it - it has to ring true, the character has to be real and three dimensional enough to be believed.
How I learned to create an atmosphere where one can suspend disbelief; how I learned to make a character come alive and BE more? - Character Analysis.

Characters never having interchangeable dialogue has always been a goal of mine as a writer. It's something that I knew very early on, but I'm ashamed to say I've only recently made a conscious effort to put it into practice.

If you've read some of my earlier posts you'll recognize the names "Bianca" and "Scarlett".
I got a very succinct critique on their story earlier this year. One of the phrases that pierced my heart, and opened my eyes was "...the dialogue felt a bit stilted..."
It hurt to hear that. Because that's the exact opposite of what I wanted.
They - when I say "they" I mean people in the publishing community - always say that if you know your characters their individuality has a way of shining through.

I'm here to tell you that's only true if you write it.

A light that isn't on doesn't shine.

Because of that critique I went back and rewrote their whole story across four months. In the rewrite I made sure and inserted some of every character's Little Things that made them them. The story and most importantly my characters are stronger for it.
And knowing my characters - exactly who they were, what they wanted to do and be, and where they have been/what they have seen/what they have done before page one - knowing all of those things made a complete rewrite somewhat of a breeze in terms of dialogue. The plot changed. The whole story changed, but my characters have never changed - I just turned on the light so they could shine.

But in that re-write I hit an 8 week long wall. There was one character who didn't fit in the new version of the story. His original incarnation was a figment, a significant figment, but a shadow of a real person nonetheless.
It took me eight weeks until a conversation with one of my beta readers led me to write a character analysis. Then I discovered him. I discovered who he was, and when I knew him I was able to write him effectively. For eight weeks I was halted at chapter five, and seven weeks later I had a complete seventeen chapter rewrite.

A Character Analysis (along with a drastic rewrite) saved my book.
So I'm not going to be hateful.
I'm going to say "you do you, and I'll do me".

I worried that such an influential author's opinion might make fledgling writers question their methods, or make them feel like they were doing something wrong. I'm telling you that each of us has our own path, and our own process. That author would certainly agree!
But if you're doubting yourself, if you find yourself unaware of how to proceed, or why this piece of dialogue or that character is such an unwelcome pain in the ass then...try a Character Analysis.
.
How do you discover dialogue? How do you find your characters?

Until we meet again...

"I'm Not Black"

I grew up saying, "I'm not black."

I always said it with a wink. That sort of joking sincerity where you understood what I was saying.

For instance:

I competed in "Poetry Interpretation" competitions in High School. Trust me, it's nothing like it sounds. You take a piece of poetry (not haiku, or rhyming poetry if you wanted to win) and perform it. You hold a tiny, regulation size, black binder in your hand and you have up to seven minutes to perform for a judge in a room full of your competitors, and maybe a small audience.

We (the Prose and Poetry teams) had workshops every summer to find, cut, and rehearse new pieces for the following school year.

Our coach (my theatre director) and another gentleman found a piece that would be "perfect" for me. It was about an African American kid who grew up listening to his father's jazz music outside an old nightclub...

There was more to it, but honestly I can't remember the piece to tell you about it. I stopped reading when it started talking about jazz.

I know nothing about jazz, or african american culture.

I read the piece, turned to my theatre director, and the man who actually selected and cut the piece just for me...and I said, "I'm not black."

My theatre director laughed. The gentlemen who cut and helped us rehearse simply gaped at me as if I had just claimed to be a descendent of the kings who dwell on the dark side of the moon. To him what I said was that level of ridiculous.

 

Cut to present day.

 

I am an advocate of diversity in literature. Specifically Young Adult (YA) and Middle Grade (MG) literature. I grew up seeing the first brown Disney princess (Jasmine) and I was in my early twenties before I saw the first black Disney princess (Tiana).

I strongly believe that people (children, teens, adults, men, women, etc.) would benefit from "seeing themselves" in the books they read.

I'm going to be ugly though.

I'm going to probably make people mad.

Worst of all - I am going to be completely forthright with you...

 

I advocate diversity not for myself, but for the people who lack the ability to imagine themselves any other way.

A white, red-headed, young girl with a fish tail didn't make me want to be any less of a mermaid.

A white boy with glasses, green eyes, and a forehead scar didn't make me want to be any less of a wizard.

The color of my hero's skin has never made me feel less-than, or like I couldn't be what they were. Maybe my mother gifted me with a healthy amount of self-esteem to go with my imagination. Who's to say?

Color has never mattered to me, and in my heart of hearts it still doesn't.......and I wish it didn't for you.

 

It's hard for me to gather my thoughts.

This post was brought about by the recent articles and reviews asserting that Rainbow Rowell's novel Eleanor & Park has racist undertones. In case you were unaware the titular "Park" is a young boy who is half-Korean.

I caught a tweet maybe two weeks ago that linked an article stating that much, and I wrote it off. Shooed it away like the inconsequential fly that I thought it was. It turned out to be Not So Inconsequential.

Yesterday evening scrolling through my Tumblr I found this blog post, entitled: "Cognitive Dissonance" by Mike Jung.

He loved ELEANOR & PARK. He's Korean himself, and his kids are half-Korean. Upon first reading the novel he loved it because it so brilliantly captured himself at that age; a young boy who culturally felt as if he didn't belong.

 

He saw himself. Mike Jung saw himself in the character of Park.

 

But then a small group of people made him question his own feelings toward the book. I’ll agree with someone I respect; there are sound criticisms out there. As a result Mr. Jung "didn't love it any less", but found himself "deeply troubled" by it.

Racism is an ugly thing. We all know that. It breeds ignorance, and hatred.

Rainbow Rowell set out to do a thing in making Park half-Korean. She made it a point to put a person of color in her story, and wrote it hoping that somewhere in the Great Out There a person of color would see themselves. She achieved her goal with Mike Jung, but then people who apparently cannot abide someone taking a step in the right direction sullied that achievement.

 

I'm disgusted.

 

We cry out for diversity. "Give us black/asian/hispanic/middle-eastern/native-american characters!" "Give us LGBTQ characters!"

Someone does, and Park isn't a poorly drawn stereotype. He's a kid who happens to be half-Korean, but he also loves The Beatles and comic books.

More importantly it's The Beatles and the comic books that he shares with Eleanor. No one in the book gives two, runny shits about Park's genetic/cultural heritage.

And some people might say that's a bad thing.

Here's the deal: if it doesn't matter to Park (or to Eleanor) that he's Half-Korean, why does it matter to you?

If it doesn't matter to me that I am half-black, why does it matter to you?

I’ll say this to those who ardently believe that Eleanor & Park is a racist work:

In finding racism where there is none, speaking out against this imagined racism, and placing a dunce cap on the author you have alienated those who you claim to be fighting for.

It’s like calling out the Huxtables for not being black enough. It’s admonishing the cast of Sex and the City for not addressing issues of white-privilege. It's Witch-Hunting. We all know how Witch-Hunting goes; people see what they want to see. They become sheep bleating at shadows while the wolf sneaks up behind them.

I wonder if Mike Jung had written Eleanor & Park if it would be heralded as racist. Would all the advocacy groups become livid and outspoken about how aspects of Park’s culture are factually inaccurate, or how the portrayal of him as half-Korean is invalid?

Perhaps Mike Jung would come back and say “I wrote from my personal experience. Park knows what I know. I see a lot of myself in Park.”

I think that would shut everyone up.

Rainbow Rowell doesn’t have that ability. She made a choice to be an advocate, to give us a Hero of a different color – which we all can agree we need for one reason or another – and there are people out there trying to kick her in the teeth for it.

They made someone who identified with Park, a Korean man who saw himself in Park feel troubled by his experience. They invalidated good feelings, good intentions, and positive results because for some reason they couldn’t find anything else to bitch about.

It makes me very angry.

 

I ignored the article at first because it the feeling I got from the book. But seeing a light be darkened because of someone else’s maliciousness really gets under my skin. If you want to read Eleanor and Park and see racism – fine. But I think we both know that’s not the author’s intent, and certainly not what comes across to 99.9% of readers. Congratulations, you’ve achieved another minority status. We’ll mail your badge to you.

 

People are people.

Black is not a verb. Korean is not a verb. White is not a verb.

Color is not a verb.

Nor is it an identity; at least not in a healthy mind.

There is no "too black", or "too white", or "being asian" or "being egyptian"

People are people.

I am creative. I am intelligent. I am ambitious. I can be kind. Each of those adjectives has other connotations. You can surmise intelligence by simply noting creativity; you can infer compassion from the word Kind. You can glean goal-oriented, and future-minded from ambitious.

What can you get from Black? What can you get from Asian? What can you get from Colombian?

(I have an answer! Dance moves, Math skills, and good coffee, respectively. But I’m being crass…)

By reducing me to a color, by reducing me to culture (that I may or may not be a part of), by reducing me...

...Reducing me...

You are Reducing Me.

You have REDUCED Park. You have taken something away, by drawing attention to an issue that is a non-issue; you have made it less-than in your attempt to make yourself feel like you're making a difference, or fighting an injustice. Despite the MULTITUDE of injustices out there you have focused on the ONE thing that ISN'T an issue, and have done a disservice to everyone. Worst of all I believe you’re attempting to make an enemy of a friend.

Park is a teenager in the 80's. As a teenager in an interracial household were you aware of the history of both of your cultures, or was one more dominant? If you weren't did you know the entire ins-and-outs of your own culture's history as a teenager? White people did you know all about white privilege and fight against it at 15? (If so - did you have any friends?)

Park's father was a dominant (and positive) force in his life. His father is white. If Park "Isn't Korean enough" or if his mother "wasn't Korean enough" isn't that like real life? Doesn't one culture take a backseat to the other in a relationship? How you spend holidays, and who with, and what you eat for dinner. If there's not a committee involved it usually ends up with one person deferring or pleasing the other.

Does casual racism not abound? Is it not a real thing? or did Rainbow Rowell include it because she's secretly a casual racist?

An author builds a world, builds characters, and contemporary authors are masters of building characters that are true to life. Artistic Integrity, if you will.

I could sum it all up by that all the things that a few people are outraged at are simply things that lend the book gravity, and reality.

And you've maligned the artist.

Shame on you.

 

I have a character. Her name is Eden. She's like me, half-black and half-white, her culture, her beliefs, her (former) home-life somewhat reflect that of my own. I may be called to the carpet because some may say she is "too white", and to that I'll say:

"Everything she does is black because she is black. Everything she does is white because she is white. She is all of these things, but most importantly she's broken - that's where the story begins, you see..."

Or maybe I'll be cheekier:

"Well it is a YA Fantasy. In my world people's personalities aren't defined by what color their skin is."

 

 

I hate even talking about race.

I feel like I'll be maligned or swept to the side because of my "People are People" views.

I hate talking about race because the instant a person of color talks about race that's all they become - they become a color.

Which defeats the entire purpose doesn't it?

I am more than a color.

My characters are more than colors.

All characters are more than colors.

We are all more than color.

 

That is why I'm not black...I won't admit it until you truly understand that I am more than that.