Characters are Like Onions... Or Parfaits...

I have this great friend who is like an onion. I'm pretty sure I thought of her as an onion even before Shrek told Donkey that ogres are like onions. Every time we get together, a new layer of her personality or past reveals itself through conversation. Bear in mind that this is a friend I've known for over 20 years, and still I'm discovering her backstory.

I'm discovering the importance of backstory in my writing. When I started writing this novel, I had a vague picture in my head -- a few images, one character, a little bit of a world. The first draft was shallow, thin, watery. I went back and did some character sketches, delved deeper into the world and wrote more of its history, and discovered something really interesting: The person I thought was the main character was, in fact, more of a catalyst character. While she's vital to the plot, she's actually the person who acts and is acted upon to change the main character.

I wrote more. I studied the main character. I picked my husband's brain and tried to figure out what makes a guy tick (I don't think I've got that figured out yet). As I wrote, I discovered that the hero's story was an internal struggle more than an external struggle. There are external forces influencing him, and he has a task/quest that must be completed, but the real story is about him overcoming his own prejudices, assumptions, baggage, and emotional/intellectual/spiritual/physical blockages that prevent him from embracing who he really is. At least I hope that's what I'm conveying.

I've gone back now and written pretty much the whole life story of my main character from the time his parents met to the time he finally left home for good at the age of 20 or so. He's had a lot of crap thrown at him. When he talked about it in the novel, I didn't realize the depth of emotion he had. When I wrote it as backstory, interesting emotions and reactions and details emerged. He's more of a person now. For the good, I think.

I also found it interesting that when I wrote his backstory, I alternated between his mother's POV and his POV and included scenes with other minor characters who might crop up now and then in the book series (note my optimism). As they all talked, I uncovered details that I can use when refining the novel to make the plot thicker and juicier.

The intriguing thing is that I've discovered the girl I thought was my main character really didn't have much backstory. It was easily summed up in a few paragraphs simply because she had such a sheltered upbringing and was still fairly young when the story started. Now, because of her experiences in this novel, she has more of a story to tell. Book two belongs to her; the blank page she was when book one began has been written now, and book two will tell how she grows and changes and makes choices that drive her to where she needs to be.

So, when all is said and done, I will have probably close to 50,000 more words of backstory about my main character. What will I do with it all? I don't know. I might use some of it to help build my platform -- publish snippets online or use it as teasers to get people interested in my story. I might use some of it within the novel in "flashback" form (even though I HATE flashbacks). Mainly, it's been a remarkable exercise in uncovering the layers of this character.

Linda Rohrbough discusses the importance of backstory in this article, and K. M. Weiland shows how to work the art of iceberging.

What about your characters? What are they not saying that you need to hear?