Writers in the Storm

by Ellen Buikema

A character flaw is an undesirable trait that negatively affects the writer's character. The degree of this effect will depend on the type and magnitude of the defect. Fortunately, the struggles caused by these imperfections often forge great strength of character.

Life is messy.

A perfect character has nothing to learn. The reader will find this person boring and unrelatable.

Weakness + Struggle = Growth.

Flaws—minor, major, and fatal— make memorable and captivating characters.

Three Character Flaw Categories

1. Physical

Cultural ideals determine beauty in a society, so let’s say, that in this case, flaws are deviations from the culture’s norm.

Beauty itself can be considered a flaw. In this study, beautiful women who wear makeup are deemed aggressive.

Any character can be assigned “flaws.”

2. Emotional or Personality

Shyness may seem like sensitivity. In reality this trait may be due to a lack of self-love.

Neediness may appear as emotional openness and end up causing co-dependence.

Need for control might look like discipline but can be punishing.

3. Ideological

A character’s ideology is the set of beliefs and values important to the character. These principles can be a flaw as well as a source of attraction.

Characters might find each other’s ideologies fodder for jokes, at least initially. But the reality of these views can easily create conflict.

Character Flaw Types

Minor Character Flaws

A minor character flaw has minimal impact on a character’s life. Some may be lovable, others maddening. Minor imperfections can move the plot along.

These flaws distinguish your characters, making them memorable. They don’t impact the story but can affect dialogue or reactions to scenes. Examples are as follows:

1. Being perpetually late.
2. Poor decision-making skills
3. Gossiping.
4. Lazy and unwilling to do things.
5. Spoiled.
6. Spacey.
7. Preoccupation with one's physical features.
8. Poor hygiene.
9. Naive.
10. Clumsy.

Examples in novels

• Clumsy – uncoordinated and fumbling; often accident-prone. Example: Bella Swan in Twilight.
• Naive – easily fooled or persuaded to believe something. Example: Valentine Michael Smith in Stranger in a Strange Land.
• Spacey – having one’s head in the clouds; absent-minded. Example: Luna Lovegood in Harry Potter.
• Spoiled – bratty and self-centered as a result of overindulgence. Example: Mary Lennox (at first) in The Secret Garden.

Sometimes flaws aren’t negative as they serve to cause a roadblock for the character, leading to character growth.

Major Character Flaws

A significant character flaw can damage the character and the people within their reach in a physical, mental, or moral manner. These character flaws can drastically impact a character’s life and the lives of those around them. Here are some examples:

1. Addiction – drugs, gambling, smoking, sex, serial killer.
2. Recklessness.
3. Possessive.
4. Deceptive.
5. Short-tempered.
6. Greedy.
7. Narcissistic.
8. Revengeful.
9. Weak-willed.
10. Inconsiderate.

Examples in novels

Short-tempered – quick to anger. Example: Jack Torrance in The Shining.

Possessive – overprotective and controlling. Example: Edward Cullen in Twilight.

Weak-willed – timid and spineless. Example: Peter Pettigrew in Harry Potter.

Inconsiderate – caring little for the feelings of others. Example: Sherlock Holmes in Sherlock Holmes.

Fatal Flaws

In a fatal flaw, the character possesses some trait that brings a person to their downfall and eventual death. Here are some examples:

1. Addiction – drugs, gambling, smoking, sex, serial killer.
2. Recklessness.
3. Cruelty.
4. Deceptive.
5. Resentful.
6. Narcissism.
7. Revengeful.
8. Lust for power.
9. Paranoia.
10. Obsession.

Examples in novels

In Moby-Dick, Captain Ahab is fanatical obsession with killing the whale causes him to be reckless.

The protagonist suffers from excessive pride, in Macbeth, and murders the king. He then becomes paranoid, which causes him to order the killing of more characters.

Captain Hook is obsessed with Peter, in Peter Pan.

Ned Stark, in A Song of Ice and Fire, has a fatal flaw that is a positive character trait: he assumes that others share his sense of honor. This mistaken belief leads to his demise.

A Few Suggestions

If you’re pondering a character, here’s a fun character generator you might enjoy playing with for a bit of inspiration.

Using this list can help you find flaws to build your character.

Make the flaw seem reasonable to your character. Bad guys often don’t see themselves as bad guys. Antagonists’ flaws (greed, dishonesty) may seem like strengths (ambition, cunning) to them.

Think about flaws that make sense for characters’ goals and create the personality traits that are aligned with those goals.

Do you find that you gravitate toward particular flaws in your characters? Do you have a preference for lovable flaws or maddening ones? What are your favorite character flaws?

* * * * * *

About Ellen

Author, speaker, and former teacher, Ellen L. Buikema has written non-fiction for parents and a series of chapter books for children with stories encouraging the development of empathy—sprinkling humor wherever possible. Her Works In Progress are The Hobo Code, YA historical fiction and Crystal Memories, YA paranormal fantasy.

Find her at https://ellenbuikema.com or on Amazon.

Top Image by prettysleepy1 from Pixabay

by Laurie Schnebly Campbell

How can you tell when it’s time to stop editing your work and start sending it out?

We’ve all been through that question. Sometimes every few days, sometimes every few books. But for just about any writer, there are times when it’s hard to know WHEN the work is ready to go.

It doesn’t matter whether this is your first manuscript or your fifty-first. It doesn’t matter whether the recipient is your first mentor or the agent of your dreams. It doesn’t matter whether you’re writing a contest entry, a novella, a full-length novel or a trilogy. At some point you have to decide:

Yep, this is ready to send.

And yet it’s so tempting to keep working. To keep tweaking that final scene. To keep revising the first-encounter dialogue. To keep switching the ellipses to dashes and back again. Revision can be downright addictive.

There are times, of course, when it’s absolutely necessary. After all, most addictive things DO start out fine. Nobody can argue that a celebratory brownie is a Bad Idea. But seven brownies for breakfast...not so good.

So how can you tell the difference between revisions that are making the work better and revisions that are a waste of time?

Let's face it, sometimes declaring "all done" is a really tough decision. How do you know another pass won't make it better? Even just a tiny bit better?

And what if that tiny bit makes all the difference?

It's funny that we don't usually go through that kind of angst when it comes to other "yep, I'm finished" decisions. Getting dressed in the morning, for instance -- might those other shoes be better? Or, wait, what about this pair? And now that I look at it, this shirt might not be the best choice. Or should I adjust the collar? No, wait, these shoes still aren't right...

We've all been through that, before some really important event where it's absolutely crucial to look our best. Say, for instance, the high school prom. :)

Even those of us who only went with the nerdy brother of our sister's date -- um, yes, in fact, that WOULD be me -- still remember the quest to look Totally Perfect.

But now, however-many years later, I look back on those weeks of getting ready for the prom and marvel at how much emotional energy I devoted to what was essentially a non-issue. I remember what I wore, sure, but not whether the selected shoes turned out to be the Very Best Choice or a Sad Second Best.

And you can tell where this is heading, right?

Someday you'll look back on the work you're reluctant to send, and marvel at what a big deal it seemed like at the time.

Because the thing is, fixing that one pesky phrase or one comma or one description or even one entire scene isn't going to make the difference as to whether or not the recipient is thrilled with your work.

The overall book will make a difference, sure.

But how many revision passes can you DO on a book?

Four?

Fourteen?

Forty-eight?

Four hundred?

At some point, revision becomes an excuse to avoid moving forward.

How do you know when you're there?

A couple possibilities are when you discover that you're:

• Shifting things back and forth rather than making a change
• Wondering why you ever liked this story in the first place
• Unable to envision when this will be ready to send

If that happens, how do you get around it?

Well, maybe you don't NEED to get around it. Maybe you're just flat-out not ready to send this material, but you haven't actually acknowledged that. If somebody's pressuring you to get that work out into the world, but you don't want to take such a step, it might seem easier to just keep revising than to declare "I don't want to send this yet."

But if you think it over and decide that yes, by golly, you DO want to send this -- and that decision is coming from YOU and nobody else -- then what do you do?

Tell yourself "this work is the best I'm capable of at this point in my life. Sure, a few years from now I'll probably be even more skilled, but at this time I've done the very best job I can do." And after that:

Give yourself a deadline.

Be specific: "This has to go out by September 16 [or whatever date seems reasonable], no matter what."

Then see what happens. If you make the deadline, even if it's a day or two late, you're all set. If not, figure you're just not ready -- whether or not you've officially acknowledged that -- and turn your attention to some other project. You can still keep writing without submitting, even if you've shoved this particular book under the bed.

But it's more likely that answering the questions above and giving yourself a deadline will do the trick in terms of deciding when you're finished with revisions.

Now, before you’re finished with revisions...

What do you need to address? There are 11 things to consider, some of which you’ve already handled beautifully because they’re your natural strong points and others of which might need some work.

Those are what we’ll talk about in “Revision Hel--No, Heaven” next month, and if at least 25 people answer the question below, one of ‘em will win the drawing for free registration to this class.

Which leads to our:

Prize-Drawing Question

What’s a revision item you always pay attention to? Something you know, right from the start, that will need to be addressed. Please share it down in the comments!

Note: It’s okay if your answer repeats what someone else has already said. It’s okay if your answer is something no one else has mentioned. We each need our own toolbox, and it’s always fascinating to see what various writers keep in theirs!

About Laurie

After winning Romantic Times' "Best Special Edition of the Year" over Nora Roberts, Laurie Schnebly Campbell discovered she loved teaching every bit as much as writing and revising...if not more. Since then she's taught online and live workshops on craft topics, like next month’s two-week email class, and keeps a special section of her bookshelves for people who've developed that particular book in her classes. With 52 titles there so far, she's always hoping for more.

by Tiffany Yates Martin

Two commonly misinterpreted canons of story can make rampantly using flashbacks in your story deceptively seductive: “Backstory is the story” and “Show, don’t tell.” Flashback seems to fit the bill perfectly, doesn’t it? Dramatizing your main characters’ past in a “real-time” scene from it surely handily addresses both issues.

But used unskillfully, flashbacks risk yanking readers right out of your story, confusing or overwhelming them with backstory, and stopping momentum in its tracks.

The Real Truth

The truth—as it often is—isn’t quite so black-and-white: Backstory is key to a story, yes, but it’s not the story—the main story is the story, and losing sight of that by leaning too heavily on flashback is one of the prime reasons they get a bad rap.

And as I frequently tout, the tired story saw of “show, don’t tell” should more accurately reflect what your kindergarten teacher already knew perfectly well: show and tell—both have important roles to play in story, and knowing which to use when is a big part of keeping your readers engaged.

I’m a fan of the flashback—well executed and woven smoothly into a story, flashbacks can bring your characters more fully to life; deepen reader investment in and understanding of them and of their arcs; and make the story more vivid and visceral.

So how do you access the power and potential of this often-maligned narrative device, while avoiding its many possible pitfalls?

The trick lies in asking yourself four key questions before plunging in.

What key information or action does the flashback contain?

Flashbacks shouldn’t be used just to flesh out or paint a pretty picture of a character’s past.

Making them feel intrinsic and organic to a story means ensuring they are used intentionally and effectively. What specific, relevant info do they convey about your characters or story?

For example, let’s say you have a scene with a couple in the office of a marriage counselor they’ve gone to for help with their struggling relationship. Readers need a sense of this couple’s history and their current dynamics for the scene to have the impact it needs to—character and story cannot exist in a vacuum, and stakes come from character and reader investment in what stands to be gained or lost. Perhaps one specific occasion from their past (or recent present) could illustrate these key points strongly and vividly.

Some Examples

For instance, one character recalling a positive event like the sparks when they first met, or their magical first date, or the joyful birth of their first child might show readers that they once were deeply in love or that there’s still great love between them.

Or recalling an early “red flag” of contention between them, or a betrayal, or a recent terrible fight could indicate the major cracks in their foundation.

If you are considering showing a flashback, first determine whether it contains something specific, directly relevant, and germane to a story and scene.

How does the flashback essentially illuminate the character or story?

Even as you glance backward with flashback, the story itself should always be moving forward. A well-used flashback accomplishes this by serving to spark a realization, reaction, or action in the protagonist in the present-day story, moving your character further along their arc.

Going back to our floundering couple in counseling, what effect does recalling the event contained in the flashback have on your character in the context of the current scene and the main story?

For instance, does remembering the fervor with which her now-husband once courted her make her decide there’s something worth fighting for, no matter how deep the current breach between them might be? Or does it perhaps make her realize that he hasn’t looked at her like that in years, and the spark has long since gone out, stripping her of hope?

You’re the storyteller—you’ll decide what best serves the story you’re telling—but making sure the flashback fulfills some essential, momentum-furthering function in the main story is key to harnessing the power of flashbacks.

What makes a flashback the strongest way to present this information?

Flashback is just one of three major types of backstory, along with context and memory, these latter two of which are usually by far the predominant tools for building seamless backstory.

But flashback is seasoning, not the stew.

Because of their risk of stalling the story out flashbacks should be used very judiciously, and only where they are the most effective, impactful way to convey the necessary information.

In our troubled-couple example, it’s essential that readers have a strong sense of these characters and their relationship so that we feel invested in the outcome of this counseling-session scene (which you’ve hopefully itself already vetted to ensure it’s also essential to furthering the main story).

You may be able to do that effectively by using context (which is backstory woven into the present-moment story, a form of “tell”) or memory (backstory recalled by a character while planted in the present-moment story, usually “tell” with a “show” component).

But depending on what information or action the flashback comprises, it may carry more emotional heft and resonance to briefly pull readers away from the current scene and let us live the flashback memory with the characters directly.

It depends in part on the purpose and pace of the main scene: If it’s a high-stakes, high-drama, fast-paced scene, then a flashback may unnecessarily stall that momentum and detract from the main scene/story. If it’s a more internal scene, or one without a major story development that a flashback might risk pulling focus or impact from, then using one may complement and help add resonance to the current scene.

What makes it essential to show the flashback now?

Ask yourself whether the info in the flashback is necessary or maximally effective at this moment in the story. To paraphrase the Watergate hearings, it depends on what the reader needs to know and when they need to know it.

For instance, in our running example, if readers already have a good sense of this couple’s dynamic, history, and each one’s attitude toward counseling, then pausing the action to dip back into a scene from early in their marriage illustrating that may not serve the story best.

If there is no subsequent turning-point moment as a result of the flashback, no illumination of the main story that is essential for this scene to be most effective or carry deep resonance, or to move the story forward in some essential way, then using a flashback here may not be the best use of this powerful but potentially disruptive tool.

Alternatively, if the flashback presents crucial, specific information that is essential for the unspooling of the main story, and in particular this scene, then this could be the exact right place for it.

General Guidelines When Writing Flashbacks

A few other tips to keep in mind for smooth flashbacks:

Weave Flashbacks in

If you do decide flashback serves the story best in a particular place in your story, help ensure it enhances the story and is woven in seamlessly by connecting it to something specific in the present-moment scene to transition into and out of it smoothly. Don’t default to cheesy “segue” lines like, “She remembered it as if it were yesterday” or “The memory played in his head like a movie.”

Bring Flashbacks to Life

Use concrete, specific aspects of the memory to build the flashback scene organically within the main story and bring it fully to life. Generalized or vague flashbacks risk stalling your story for no strong reason—if there’s not some key, specific incident contained within the flashback, then consider whether the backstory you want to convey would instead be more effective in context or memory.

Regular Fonts

And I beg you, please don’t set flashbacks in italics, or in a different font. It’s like posting a “FLASHBACK AHEAD!” sign that pulls readers out of the story; wearies readers’ eyes; and most publishing houses will change them to regular font anyway (predominant house style).

Over to you, authors--where do you stand on the dreaded flashback, friend or foe? Do you use them in your stories, and if so how do you decide whether and where they serve the story best?

Special Deal for WITS Readers

And if you want to dig deeper into what makes flashbacks work and how to weave them into your stories or nonfiction, I’ve just launched a new online course “Master the Flashback.” (WitS readers get a 25% discount with code WITSFLASH.)

About Tiffany

Tiffany Yates Martin has spent nearly thirty years as an editor in the publishing industry, working with major publishers and New York Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling and award-winning authors as well as indie and newer writers, and is the founder of FoxPrint Editorial and author of the bestseller Intuitive Editing: A Creative and Practical Guide to Revising Your Writing. Under the pen name Phoebe Fox, she's the author of six novels, including the recently released The Way We Weren't(Berkley/PRH). Visit her at www.foxprinteditorial.com or www.phoebefoxauthor.com.