writing a novel,'' said the great novelist and short-story writer W. Somerset Maugham. ''Unfortunately, nobody knows what they are.'' Another piece of Maugham's advice— about as useful as the first—is, ''Devise incidents.'' Well, OK, fine. A novel consists of incidents; probably not even the deconstructionists would dispute this. But which incidents? What are they supposed to do? And how do you think them up?
One way is to think about the conflicts inherent in your character's background. And there will be conflicts. No matter where she's from or how idealistic her childhood was, there's no place on earth that is Eden. Not anymore. And even if there were, would Eden be the best preparation for climbing on the school bus and encountering the rest of the less-than-perfect world?
Background, in other words, can contribute to both characterization and plot. So before you even begin your story, spend some time thinking about your protagonist's hometown. This chapter explores why you should do that—and how.
EXTERNAL CHARACTERIZATION: I RECOGNIZE YOU
Your character was born in Salt Lake City. Or East Harlem. Or rural Iowa. Or southern California. She spent, say, the first eighteen years of her life there, before joining the army and being shipped to Fort Polk, Louisiana, for basic training.
Each of these four birthplaces has its own subculture. The recruit from East Harlem and the one from southern California are going to speak differently, dress differently, wear their hair and makeup differently, judge others differently. If you, the author, are mindful of these differences, you can use them to enrich your protagonist's believability.
The differences are of two kinds: the simpler external signs of origin, and the more complex inner worldview. Tackle the externals first. Ask yourself the following questions:
• Where was my character born?
• How long did she live there?
• What social class did she grow up in within that setting? (This is vital; the girl living in New York in nanny/private-school/sum-mers-in-the-Hamptons privilege may be less than half a mile from the girl living on struggling-to-pay-the-rent welfare, but their formative experiences will be radically different.)
• Does she have an accent? What kind? Does it indicate class as well as geography? How pronounced is it?
• How old is she now? Has she had time to leave behind the tastes and fashions of her childhood setting, or is she still following them? Has she had time to leave them behind but is still following them anyway? (That says something about her right there.)
• Does her background influence the way she dresses? Wears her hair? Uses makeup? (The girl from Iowa wears jeans. So does the girl from East Harlem. But the Iowan's jeans are worn with a sweater, sneakers and small gold earrings. The East Harlemite is sitting on the subway in her jeans, high-heeled lace-up boots, leotard top and four-inch earrings heavy enough to distend her earlobes.)
• Does her background influence her tastes in music, food, leisure activities? What does she like to do for fun, and where does she like to do it?
• What was she taught to do as a child, by her family or older kids or professional lessons? Surfing? Ballet? Basketball? Violin? Blues guitar? Horseback riding? Housework? Embroidery? Carpentry?
• What are the political attitudes of her region? Does she share them?
We've departed from externals. In a minute, we'll consider the internal qualities your character may have absorbed from her birthplace. But first let's look at a few objections often raised about this entire process.
STEREOTYPES: I RECOGNIZE YOU TOO EASILY
But, goes one objection to this process, if I create a character this way, won't I end up with a stereotype? The blonde, air-headed, California surfer? The New York black girl in her midriff-baring top, baggy jeans and feisty attitude who says, ''You go, girl''? The Iowa farm girl raising chickens for her 4-H