More observations about characters

In a response to an earlier post, Robert noted how many writers who are still learning their craft devote too much energy to describing the physical appearance of their characters.  Some thoughts in response:

Yes, description is a bugbear for many beginners.  They believe that the reader won’t be able to picture the character unless they’ve given a complete physical description.  Which, of course, is not true.  And it compounds the error to stop the story, or at least throw it into low gear while a succession of unneeded details about hair and eye color, height and weight, and so on are doled out.

I’ve written entire novels in which the lead character’s appearance is not described.  I mean, not at all.  Not a single word.  In The Damned Busters, for example, Chesney Arnstruther is described merely as a young man.  The reader probably gains the impression that he has not spent any time in fitness centers or on playing fields, but his physique is not dwelt upon.  Nor are his eyes or hair or lips or chin.

He is described by another character as “high-functioning autistic,” but the astute reader will have grasped that facet of his personality long before the phrase is uttered.  Yet he carries the story along because he is constantly doing something to address the problems that, inwardly and outwardly, confront him.

But, for those writers, who don’t feel comfortable unless they give at least a minimal description, here’s a technique I use:  give a general description, add two or three details that say something about the character’s character, then add one characteristic motion.  The motion is important, I think, because it is easier for us to envision moving objects than still ones – something to do with our evolution as creatures that were more likely to be prey than predators.

Here’s an example from The Damned Busters, describing Billy Lee Hardacre, the labor lawyer/novelist turned tv preacher:

He was broad-shouldered, tall, and fiftyish, with silver hair that looked as if it had been poured into a mold and let to set overnight. He wore tailor-made suits with western-style piping on the lapels and a big gold and diamond ring that flashed as brightly as his piercing blue eyes whenever he raised his hands to call down divine blessings--or, more often, wrath--on some celebrity whose behavior had caught his attention over the preceding week.

If I've done that right, you should have a pretty good mental picture of Billy Lee, and at least the beginnings of a sense of what kind of guy he is.