People in My Head

I've never really noticed this before, but when I'm coming up with characters - not particular ones, really, but just the odd fellow for a new story or drabble or what have you - the first two things I tend to come up with are a mental image of them, and how they move. Which is funny, because I've never given a second thought to how a character moves - it just comes about all unconscious-like, and I run with it.

Take, for example, the girl I'm going to drop onto the page tomorrow, who has since yesterday decided she's called Cassiopeia, possibly Opal for short. The very first thing I got of her was her hair (this whole two days, she's kind of been sending little snippets of herself to me), which is super-straight and shiny and copper-colored. It ripples over her shoulders and looks like melted amber when she runs. Then she's topped off by this grey beanie of hers, which looks like it ought to be old and threadbare and holey, only it's relatively new and rather soft. And well, there was my first impression of Opal. The rest just kept dropping into place.

She wears a heavy, army green canvas jacket. The collar is usually up. Underneath that is a long, close-fitting, long-sleeved black t-shirt. Dark skinny jeans, or some days denim shorts with black leggings (but that's mostly when she's hanging around the house). Shoes are usually what's closest to her door at the time - sneakers, sandals, boots. Whatever.

Her face is narrow. Very thin nose, eyes that look too big in her head. I'd say she's rather average-looking, in most cases, but then you see her from a certain angle or temperament or light, and she's lovely. It's that sort of off-prettiness. I think she looks at people sideways a lot - it might actually be kind of her trademark. 

After that, I just sort of see her moving. I don't think about it. But Opal's light on her feet. She doesn't really dance around though, instead moving swiftly in whatever direction she's headed. She doesn't flounce, unless she's being purposely flippant. I don't think that's very often. Her reflexes are quick. I have a very solid image of her spinning gracefully on her heel, fluidly pulling a handgun from where it's tucked at the small of her back.

And then, from all that, I sort of have a feeling of what she's like. I haven't though too purposefully about her personality, because it will just come to me as I get about telling her story. I know that when she smiles for photos she has this smug little smirk, and with her whole get-up she looks like a right little smart-arse, but when she smile-smiles it's very sweet and simple and warming. I know that she's says what she thinks and is very frank about things, but she's very physically contained - her hands at her sides or in her coat pockets. Everything about her says slender. But she laughs easily, just not loudly.

That would be my character creation process, on most days. For me it's pretty much the case that the character is already a person, somewhere, and myself as a writer just drew the lucky card of getting to meet her and figure her out. It's fun when they have mind of their own, after all. It's all about making the writing exciting, and it helps when you haven't a clue what your character is going to pull next.

I Complicate August Explicitly

I've decided I'm going for some sort of creative mind-journey cataclysm for my NaNo practice. The whole plotless/bizarro/surreal thing brought me to it. The thing about writing that has always scared me the most is that always-present author-fear that what I put down on paper will never measure up to what I imagined. Every writer deals with that, right? It just particularly irks me that I'm flooded by extremely vibrant images - just snapshots of impossible things like boys who fall through skylights and shatter into emeralds - and half the time I wish I was an artist/graphic designer/film maker so I could fashion it all out visually and not have to worry about it being logical/making a semblance of sense/spurring a plot development.

So, I figure I'll just go all out and conjure some lovely half-coherent adventure in which I infuse all that pent-up imagery into something I never meant to plot in the first place. It takes the pressure off. It excites me. And as a writer, if you're not excited you've lost something, and like a car key you have to find it again or you're not going anywhere. Unless you know how to hot-wire the thing, in which case you're probably going to be just fine.

Swimming Around "Other Genres"

I've been hanging out in the NaNoWriMo forums again. Ah, it's been such a long time. Not really. I lurk like nobody's business, I just haven't posted in a while. It seems like the only real activity is in the Fantasy forum, as per usual, anyway. Not that I don't love fantasy - just that most of what I've been writing lately is kind of on the ambiguous-genre-side.

(Yeah, that, or urban fantasy. Which is fantasy, sure, but more like magical realism when I write it.)

Anyway, I've kind of spontaneously decided to do a NaNo practice run in August. Which is the day after tomorrow. And further, I have also spontaneously decided that it's going to be plotless bizarro fiction BECAUSE IT CAN BE AND AT LEAST I WILL ENJOY IT. Also, these two characters just kind of happened, and even though they're not giving up much, I like them. And the charming blonde might just shatter into emeralds when under impact.

Huh.

(How's this for a first post? Totally ignoring the fact that it's a first post . . . And it's so short. )

Needless to say, this is going to be a very casual blog. With writing. And uncalled-for fandom raving on rare occasion.