The situation: Waldo appears in chapter three as a close personal friend of the protagonist. He has an epic encounter with the villain, saves the day and endears himself to a female protagonist. He then promptly disappears for the rest of the book, while the reader is left to wonder where he went.
This is such a familiar scenario in the manuscripts I see, that I begin to suspect the “Where’s Waldo?” fad was started by a college level creative writing instructor or a convention workshop coordinator.
What happens when we treat our characters as if they were widgets?
When I talk about characters as widgets, I mean that they
- are treated as if interchangeable and
- are tossed aside when the writer has no further use for them.
Characters aren’t widgets, though I see many manuscripts in which they are treated that way. They appear onstage for a moment, step forward, say their lines, then depart or waft into the background.
Characters of this sort often have no clear role in the narrative or seem to fill the wrong role, given what the reader is told about them when they first appear. I recently encountered a story in which the writer had given the protagonist a magical coin that his guardian fairy had bespelled to help him through some trials he was undergoing. But the protagonist had no idea that the coin had magical powers, let alone suspect the nature of those powers. The writer picked a character out of his cast and had him tell the protagonist all about the magical coin.
The problem? Not only was there no way this particular character could have known what the coin was and did, but he was an orthodox priest and would have been the last person in the world to want the protagonist to know how to use it. The ironic thing was that the fairy actually had a friend in the village—an old wizard she had charged to keep an eye on the protagonist—who really did know something about the coin and the fairy’s agenda.
Why didn’t the writer just use the wizard? Because the wizard was a uni-tasker —a character created for a specific purpose which he had already fulfilled. In fact, the poor wizard disappeared until quite late in the story. This particular manuscript had a series of characters that were treated in this way.
What effect does it have on a story when we treat characters as convenient objects that we can invent, use and then discard by simply forgetting about them?
Once you’ve written a character, he or she has a certain reality in the reader’s mind and in the world you created for the characters to function in. Your reader will think of Waldo as a person, even if to you he is just a convenient way to “off” the villain or drop hints about the magical coin.
The character’s disappearance may cause the reader to anticipate his return and to interpret successive scenes in that context. It may, in fact, cause the reader to attach unintended meaning to character interactions if he expects Waldo to reappear at any moment. If Waldo is magical, the reader might be forgiven for thinking every new character is Waldo in disguise.
What’s a writer to do?
There are a number of solutions to this, all of which grow from having a clear idea of your cast and what roles they each fill in your plot. For example, rather than create a uni-tasker to perform a role, check to make sure you don’t already have an existing character who might more logically fill that role.
I has a ghost writing client who created a character for the sole purpose of having other characters in the story explain things to him that the reader needed to know. After walking through the possibilities with them, I recommended we keep the character and make him a real boy. He became central to the plot of the book.
I’m not saying you should never create a character on the fly just because it feels right. Some of the best moments of a writer’s life are serendipitous. But if you do create a Waldo, consider turning him to a multi-tasker. Give him a life. You might find he helps you write a better book.
Suggestion: Go over some of your own fiction. Do you have a Waldo or two among your characters? If so, back up and take a look at the structure of your story. If you’ve had to invent a character for a specific purpose, ask yourself why that is and what it says about your story that once that purpose is fulfilled, the character has ceased to matter to you. Then address that issue. You may find that the action involving the character:
- Is taking place at the wrong time in the story.
- Needs to be set up more thoroughly as part of the fabric of the story.
- Is not as central to the plot of the story as you thought and can be cut.
Food for thought.