You have a general idea of type of story you're telling. You've nailed down the setting, both place (a small southern town,
the Registry of Motor Vehicles) and time (the date of the road test, with bad weather forecast).
Who is sitting on that bench with butterflies the size of crows?
A teenager who barely had a chance to practice?
The new Chief of Police, late of the LAPD?
An Iranian immigrant who knows just enough English to follow simple directions?
Who has the most to lose? Who has the greatest opportunity for change? Who can best describe the setting with fresh eyes and do the
same for the story to come?
One common approach is to cast the main character as an outsider, not only because of the reason just mentioned, but because the
outsider designation brings with it conflict. A fish out of water is, by definition, struggling.
Another common approach is to do exactly the opposite. Make the main character the clerk behind the counter, fifteen years on the
job and counting the days. This jaded character can put events in perspective, never mind change in ways that might seem inconceivable
when the story opens.
Some writers create full biographies for their characters, but that's probably a bit much for a short story.
What's your character's gender? Age? Relationship status?
Does your character work? If so, doing what? How much education is behind that job? If not, why doesn't the character work?
Where is the character in the arc of a life? The arc of a relationship? The arc of a career?
How does the character feel about any of those answers?
What does the character want? How does the character subconsciously keep that desire from being met? How will the character overcome
those failings?
The main character—your protagonist—will be tested against the antagonist. The stronger the antagonist, the stronger your
protagonist will be forced to become.
Create an antagonist with that fact in mind. Remember, also, that nobody is all bad. Few real-life antagonists exist only to confound
some protagonist. We all believe ourselves the hero of our own story.
Few stories only contain these two characters, protagonist pitted against antagonist.
You might need secondary characters to serve as helpers, confidants, or roadblocks. Whatever part they play, they should exist only if
they both advance the plot and expose some quality of the protagonist.
The clerk answers that the protagonist left twenty minutes ago, forcing the protagonist to become resourceful. The clerk also reminds
the protagonist of a favorite relative, or evokes a pang of jealousy, or causes a secret rage to surface.
Minor characters carry less weight, and are often dispatched in a single sentence or captured in summary.
Writers often feel burdened by the need to catalog the physical details of a character, but these are not as important as they can
sometimes seem.
Sue is in her early twenties, torn between family expectations and being her own person. She moved out of the house and across the
country in an attempt to simplify that conflict, little knowing she would only make it worse.
Really, could her eye color be any less significant?
And if Sue's baby blues do prove to be an integral part of the story, that detail will emerge seemingly without effort because you'll
be fitting in a specific fact, rather than dumping a static list of physical characteristics.
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About The Author:
Stephen D. Rogers is a published writer of fantasy, horror, literary, mystery, personal essays, romance, and science fiction.
Stephen may be reached at StephenDRogers.com where you can win
an autographed copy of a publication with Stephen's stories.
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