method writing

Bob and I have seen some fine films lately; On The Waterfront and The Train spring to mind, the classic movie channels full of Oscar nominated and winning films.  Reading about those movies, I'm returned to method acting, taught by Lee Strasberg, Stella Adler and others, typified by Marlon Brando, James Dean, Joanne Woodward, Paul Newman, Al Pacino, Julie Harris, Robert DeNiro, Anne Bancroft, and countless others.  The essence of method acting is to combine the character's motives with the actor's own, drawing on personal experiences to identify with the role.  Instead of using makeup and facial expressions, method acting asks the pupil to create within themselves the thoughts and feelings of their characters.  Method acting doesn't demand an actor to live in their character 24/7, although some actors employ this notion of staying in character.  Watching these fantastic older films always trips my heart; they don't make movies they way they used to.

But this entry isn't about film; a friend of mine has asked more than once how I write characters that often make her cry, make her dream of them.  I will admit to a perverse pleasure when I know my writing offers such effects; I don't set out to wring tears, but I do want to tell an honest tale.  I want to make my characters as real as possible, and I spend an inordinate amount of time mumbling through potential storylines and dialogue to get the feel for my cast, banter that occurs when I'm driving alone, in the shower, anywhere vaguely private so no one will think I'm simply talking to myself.  Which is exactly what I'm doing, but all for art's sake.  Actors can get away with that sort of posturing, but the average person on the street would be looked at with trepidation in such instances.  But how else can I make sure these people are who they are?  Talking out various scenes that usually have little play in the actual novel; sometimes I mumble things I think are really great, fully aware I wouldn't be able to recreate those lines if my life depended on it!  But it gets me into character, many of them.  Maybe I'm a little crazy.  Maybe not so little.

I've been doing it this way for a long time, maybe since the very beginning.  Once I have a feel for a character, no matter how large or small, then I can write that person's voice.  Why reading Elliot Rose's quote was so altering; I have most of The Hounds Of War And Love set, but the center of a book is the most tricky; over the initial hump, leading to the big finish, the middle has to hold, needs to matter.  Jillian Scotland is a big part of the story, her role set in that precarious halfway place, but I'd forgotten about her amidst the bigger players.  Henry's an impenetrable jerk, Rebecca's cloistered and pensive.  Clyde is a mess, Helen's resigned, Ellis is shut away, Mark is watchful and Jillian...  Jillian was a big fat blank until I read Elliot's idea on peace; just a lot of hopes put together.  All of Jillian's family teeters on that pinnacle, one seemingly as impossible as world peace itself.  But truths do come from the mouths of babes, from those least expected.  Alvin Harris is a great example, oh he was so wonderful to write!  And now that the center of Hounds has been established, the rest will slowly fall into place.  Jillian's eternal optimism will draw out her recalcitrant mother, her wayward father, her lost grandfather.  Others too, some who won't even meet her, but that's true in life.  I might never meet Miss Elliot Rose, but Hounds will be dedicated to her.

I hope this answers my friend's query, how I write characters.  Method writing isn't at all as famous as method acting, but for me, it's the only way...