Creative Writing: How to Cope with a Character Who Isn't Working

It's not writer's block. It's something far less tangible, and nearly as frustrating, as all that; and it happened to me last night.

One character moved like a blur through the midst of his perfectly in focus peers. I could pick any one of the others out of that scene and tell you precisely what they were thinking. I understood their motivations. I could describe their mannerisms and turn of speech. But not him.

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, let's call him Darren. Two dozen chapters were in the bag, flowing brilliantly and causing me not a bit of trouble. It was that wonderful mode of writing where all is going well, and your fictional world feels so natural.

I knew that Darren was coming. I'd planned his dramatic entrance since the beginning. In my mind's eye, I'd imagined precisely how it would work. I could envisage where everyone was standing, what they'd say and do. It was going to be glorious.

Then he arrived early. No-one was in position. Darren's great arrival took me by surprise, as much as those characters I'd planned to stun. But I'm an experienced author. I ran with it. The best moments are those which catch the writer out. It's the biggest indication of all that your story is telling itself.

Only Darren's entrance was all that I'd worked out in advance. This didn't concern me. I never do plan things too precisely. I prefer to chuck some checkpoints into the path ahead and let my characters get there as they will. It usually works.

But not this time. Darren felt at best two dimensional. At worst, he was like a silhouette in a space reserved for an important character. All around him, my known people were reacting to things that I could barely see, let alone comprehend. Little by little, they too stopped, almost looking away in embarrassment, and my story ground to a halt.

To me, creative writing isn't so much producing fiction. It's running around like a secretary, taking notes from the scenes playing out in your head. It's describing events from some mental movie, which only you were previously privy to see. When a character like Darren won't show you what's going on, then there's nothing to write.

But such things can be fixed. Even the stubbornest characters can be coaxed to join in the story, if you know how.

• Author Confidence.  It can REALLY mess with your own sense of self-worth as a writer, if you can't bring to life a character born in your own head. Such things eat away over time and make you paranoid in the future. (Just ask yourself why I'm writing articles like this instead of finishing Darren's chapter. I'm already a bit scared of him!)
• Story Narrative. You brought this character in for a reason. Now what? If he or she has gone, then are you going to overwork the rest of your characters, perhaps morphing some of them out of shape, just to continue the plot-line.
• Amazing Characterization. If your character is strong-willed enough to thwart its actual author,  then this is one kick-ass addition to your story. As soon as you can work together, you're going to find out that this is the best character you ever created.

Sometimes the problem isn't losing control, it's the author being a control freak.

If you want to write naturally, then drawing up a plan and sticking to it, come Hell or high water, isn't going to work. There will eventually be a rebellious character, who isn't about to do what you say.

In many ways, this is the best issue for an author to deal with. All it requires is stopping writing. Go away from your story for five minutes. Give yourself the space needed to forget what you wanted to write. Come back and write what your character wanted instead. See if that shifted the blockage. Was it a better story-line? 

It's so very tempting to write like you're the boss of your story. All of your readers are going to assume that you were anyway. The reality, as every author knows, is that real (fictional) universes only come to life, when real characters tell real stories. You're just the person crafting the words. Totally different thing.

So let them tell their stories. Even if it means that the blueprint has to go onto a back burner (where it will hopefully slip into the furnace and char into oblivion). Your characters always know what's best.

Usually these situations only happen with a new character or a cameo. It's unlikely to be one who has already starred in several solo chapters, or who has had whole stories told from their point of view.

You already know how those characters tick. You've shared intimate moments with them. You've seen the world through their eyes and interpreted it in their mind.

Problematic characters generally haven't had that kind of quality time with you. The trick therefore is to bring them in out of the rain. Even if the chapter or passage never makes it into the final cut, go and write a story with them as the main person. It's even better if they're alone in the scene. Just you and your character, taking a walk in the park or whatever.

All of this gives an author the opportunity to see just who this character is. Without every other character around to distract you both, then it's like getting to know a new acquaintance, one on one. It will hopefully become apparent why they won't play ball, in those other scenes, when you're attempting to get them to act outside their nature.

By the time you get back to the main event, then you'll be able to write them into the scene much more easily.

Darren was seriously stubborn. I let him have his way, then I walked away. I wrote a scene from his point of view. He still ran rampant through my story, ripping up plots and making my other characters demand time out.

But I still had one last quick fix in my writer's arsenal. I had other characters, whom I knew well and who had some history with Darren too. I appealed to them for help.

Sedona had known Darren for a very long time. I know that she had, because I wrote early on a line which stated that she had. Mary had never seen him before in her life. So Mary asked Sedona what Darren was like. Sedona answered her. As the author behind Mary, I paid close attention. I took notes.

It was fabulous! For a whole scene, I could get behind Darren's eyes. I could write him with the narrative flow that renders any author thanking their muses in utter relief.  It was bordering upon drastic action. It was adding an element to my story, which was nothing to do with telling it, and everything to do with allowing me to be the one to do so.

If this trick works permanently, then even better. Unfortunately for me, Darren slipped out of my grasp in the very next scene. I couldn't have Sedona and Mary chatting forever. It was time to admit defeat and bring in the cavalry.

Years of writing stories has taught me to embrace beta-readers. (By which I mean bear-hugs, in between bouts of prostrating myself in gratitude at their feet.)

These are the people who proof-read your work. They point out the typos, correct your dodgy grammar, help retain the continuity and get to say, 'Erm, what did you actually mean here? Because it's juvenile gibberish.'

All of this is the bread and butter. It keeps your work looking polished, so that the reading public are none the wiser that it was once all a bit flaky. But there are moments when beta-readers really come into their own. Moments like Darren in fact.

Only twice in my life has it come to this. Usually one of the previous solutions does the trick. But if they've failed, then the only recourse is to add a second, non-fictional mind into the mix. Be honest. Tell your beta-reader straight out that you don't know what you're doing.

(They will never admit it, but they've long since accepted their unspoken duties in calming your creative temperament. They'll be less surprised than you could comfortably imagine.)

The first time I had to call in someone to read a scene and tell me what had gone wrong, it turned out to be my fault. I thought I had stopped trying to be a control freak. I hadn't. I was trying to force my character into acting out of character. What can I say? I was young and needed the money.

In short, it was all the way back to solution number one. Really letting go was very rewarding. I got another twelve novels out of that previously unruly character.

Last night, Darren took me into my second ever major SOS. This time my beta-reader admitted that she was as lost as I was. She couldn't get her head around him either. That wasn't quite what I wanted to hear. But all was not lost.

"What kind of character do you think Darren is?" I asked. She pondered it and spoke aloud. We compared notes. She talked. I listened. I talked. She listened. Suddenly she said something which set a light-bulb off in my head. It illuminated Darren completely.  It showed that he hadn't been out of control at all. In fact, once you knew what he was up to, it was a delicious, quite fascinating story-line.

It turned out that I'd been trying to control him too much. Trust your characters, and remember rule number one: let them tell their story in their own way.

Funny how it always comes back to that.