My lovely
lady came up with the title. She’s kind
of fantastic that way...
Eventually
it all comes down to this, doesn’t it?
I’ve crafted a character with a detailed backstory, some
wonderful nuances and habits, and even believable speech patterns
that stand out in a crowd scene. It’s a
character every reader can picture in their minds and relate to on a
personal level.
And it’s
time to put a bullet in their head.
Killing
people in a story is a delicate thing. I
don’t mean this in some artsy, poetic way.
I mean it more in a “cutting the wires without disturbing the mercury
detonator” way. It’s something that has
to work precisely on several levels for it to be effective. And just like that detonator, if I’m going to
do a half-assed job with it... well, I’m really wasting everyone’s time.
But
probably not for long.
Here’s a
couple of loose guidelines for killing someone... and getting away with it.
First
off, if I’m going to kill a character... well, it means I need a character,
right? A real character. I can’t expect there to be a lot of emotional
impact from the death of a tissue-thin stereotype. Killing cardboard cutouts is fine to drive a body count, but it’s not going to drive a plot and it’s not going to
motivate anyone on a personal level.
It’s not going to affect the reader, either. If I say Joe, Tom, or Mary just died in a car
crash, that really doesn’t mean anything to any of us. I can’t create Wakko on page fifty, kill him
on page fifty-one, and think it’s going to have any emotional weight—either
with the other characters or with my readers.
Second,
this character’s death needs to drive the plot forward. That’s what good story elements do,
right? They keep the narrative
moving—not necessarily upward or into positive place, but forward. Killing a character who’s well-developed but
has no connection at all to the plot doesn’t accomplish anything.
I’ve seen a
couple writers fall back on this sort of thing in an attempt to build
tension. The plot will be rolling on and
then we’ll pause to meet Phoebe. She’s
thirty-one, blonde, likes to wear combat boots with everything from jeans to her
little black dress to her bikini on the way to the beach. She’s been seeing a great guy for a couple of
months now and she thinks on this upcoming ski trip he might even get down on
one knee—OH, she’s dead. The bad guy got
her. Or the zombies. Or the giant spiders. Now let’s go back to the plot for a few
chapters before I take a moment to introduce you to Yakko. He’s a college dropout who went to work for
the park service. He’s also been seeing
a great guy for a couple of months now (not the same one as Phoebe) and he
thinks on this upcoming ski trip he might even get down on one knee—OH, the
spiders got Yakko, too.
This kind
of thing works once. Maybe twice. But it gets old quick because it doesn’t really
build any tension. When my story is
about Wakko and Dot hunting the spider queen in Brazil, telling the reader that
two unconnected strangers were killed by giant spiders in San Diego doesn’t have
much effect on my plot .
If I’m
going to kill a character, I want it to inspire my other characters. It needs to motivate them one way or
another to strive for their goals.
Alternately, this death needs to become a major challenge in
reaching those goals. If my partner
Wakko is one of the only people who knows the spider queen’s vulnerable point
and he just took a talon to the head... well, crap. Where does that leave me?
Third
is that this death needs to fit structurally within my story. As I’ve mentioned before, the dramatic structure of a story needs to be a series of ups and downs. There need to be slowly increasing
challenges, which require greater efforts for my characters to overcome, and
help build tension. If I’m going to kill
someone off, their death needs to fit within this general structure.
To go back
to the example I just gave, if Wakko’s one of the only people who knows the
spider queen’s weak point and he’s killed by the guards just outside her
nest... that’s awful. In a very good
way. I’ve just created a major stumbling
block, because I’m out in the middle of the Amazon, at the center of the web
with no one around for miles, and I’ve got no idea how to stop the queen before
she fills her egg sac with ten thousand giant spider eggs.
If my
partner Wakko dies in the first fifty pages, though... Well, it’s a big spike at the start of the
story, which means everything after it is either going to be lower, or it’s all
going to be just as high and my story’s going to stay at the same level for ages. Plus, there’s no real tension
here. If Wakko dies on page forty-eight
but there’s four hundred pages left in the book... well, odds are my characters
have time to find someone else who knows those weak spots.
Now, all
that being said...
Some
writers push a school of thought that says killing characters is no big
deal. These folks almost brag about it,
that they end lives randomly. This is
more artistic, after all, more like real life. Absolutely no one is safe in their books.
I find this
to be a rather stupid approach. For a
few reasons.
One is that
we’re not talking about real life, we’re talking about fiction. Real
life is chaotic and structureless and people often die for no reasons at
extremely inconvenient times. In my
stories, though, I’m God. Nothing
happens without a reason. Everything in
the world of my story is part of my master plan, and if it isn’t... well, why
is it in my story?
Which
brings me to reason two. If my characters
are dying at random in ways that don’t advance any element of the story, then
it means my story has no structure.
A death is a big setback (especially for the person who died), and odds
are if there’s no spot for that big setback in the narrative structure I’m
going to mess up my flow. Plus,
if I’m a hundred pages in and Phoebe, my main character, has an unknown aneurism
burst in her forebrain so she dies instantly... well, what happens now? Is the story over? Does Wakko take over as the main
character? If I was going to have him as the main character (in this world, I am God, after all), why did I spend a
hundred pages on Phoebe?
And that’s
the third reason this view isn't too smart. Odds are a random death
means failure. One way or another,
Phoebe has dropped the ball big time—even if it’s not her fault. She stepped off a curb without looking, ate
an egg without cooking it all the way, or just stood up a little too tall while
on that away mission. She’s failed to
reach her goals (she had goals because she was a real character, right...?),
and that means we just spent a hundred pages identifying with and investing in someone who didn’t win. On any
level. We’ve been identifying with a
loser with crap luck (she must have crap luck—she just died randomly, yes?). I don’t know about any of you, but that isn’t
going to make me happy.
So, a good
death (if there is such a thing) is going to have real characters. Their death is going to help drive the plot
(one way or another). And it’s going to
happen at a point in the narrative that makes structural sense. If I’ve got two out of three of those, I’m
probably in good shape. One out of
three... maybe not so much.
And if I
honestly don’t know if I’ve hit two or three of those points... well, maybe we
should stay the execution. Just until we
can confirm what the governor said in that last phone call...
This time
next week I’ll be up in Seattle for Crypticon, so I’m going to try to get this
post up Wednesday night before I leave (assuming I don’t cut things too close).
And if
you’re in the north-west neighborhood next weekend, please stop by and say
hullo.
Until then,
go write.
I agree with your statement for the most part. I do have the question, however, whether or not you believe that books where failure and death are meant to implied have the tension ratcheted up by important deaths. Say, zombie films.
ReplyDeleteUmmmm... I'm not quite sure what you're asking, Charles. I think there may be a missing word or two (or maybe a few extra ones) which are confusing things a bit.
ReplyDeleteI actually cried when I killed off a character once. She was one of my favorite characters out of all the people I've pulled out of my head, but she had to die. It's rare I admit to the crying part, though lol. I'm too much of a girl. :D
ReplyDeleteThis is cool!
ReplyDelete