Characters Done Well, Part 1: Physical Description
Less is more
Image credit: Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels
Every writer wants their original character to become the next memorable-for-all-time thing. Wouldn’t you love to say, “I created Jamie Fraser,” or “Mr. Darcy was the product of my imagination,” or “The vision of Rubeus Hagrid on a large motorcycle came to my mind, and I could hardly write fast enough”?
Creating an unforgettable character is a wonderful goal. You don’t want someone reading chapter thirteen and saying, “Who?” when they encounter a character who hasn’t been mentioned since chapter five.
On the contrary, you want to introduce that character in chapter five and have your reader reading with anticipation of the next time he appears, finally leaning back in satisfaction when they see his name again in chapter thirteen.
Readers don’t need all the details you know
Unfortunately, it’s all too easy to fall into the trap of thinking that readers need to have every physical detail to accurately picture the character as you’ve created them. Only the pertinent details should make it into the story, and you can save the rest for other purposes: a short story that’s related to the same world, sort of a teaser to get your readers excited about the upcoming book; the second book in a series; an artist’s rendition of your character to hang on your wall, or for a giveaway to your fans, to name a few.
Readers can’t prioritize all the details you know
When we read, we assume a detail is mentioned because it’s important. There are variants on this theme: the most commonly known is referred to as Chekhov’s gun, which states that each element in a story must be necessary (e.g. if you mention a gun early in the book, it must be used in some way before the completion of the book).
When you write too much filler—details that may, in your view, enhance a scene but aren’t truly necessary—the reader doesn’t know which details are important to remember. They’ll try to remember it all, just in case they need to recall something later. And then they get irritated when they realize they’ve wasted time and effort remembering things that didn’t end up mattering.
Readers may not want all the details you know
How many times have we been disappointed to see a movie made from a book because the characters don’t look like what we’ve pictured in our heads? Certain romance authors try to refrain from giving too much physical description of their main characters, because they want the average reader to relate to them. We want to relate to the character, to put ourselves in their place (that’s why so many people read romance novels), and if we are given too many physical details about that character, we can’t make that connection. What if your ideal man is tall, with dark hair and blue eyes, but your reader only likes blond guys? Sometimes it’s better to allow the reader to use their imagination to fill in the blanks.
Methods to avoid when describing your book’s characters:
1. The ol’ look-in-the-mirror trick
This is a tired, overdone approach that has seen its day, and it’s frowned upon for a number of reasons. Mainly, though, it’s unrealistic, because it gives a bit of a narcissistic feel.
When you look in the mirror, do you think about your cornflower-blue eyes, your sooty eyelashes, high cheekbones, long legs and glossy, golden-brown hair? No? Most other people don’t, either, so this method either paints your character as self-centered, or it pulls the reader out of the story for the purpose of something akin to a movie director writing down the details for a casting call.
2. Listing the specs from head to toe when the character is introduced
We don’t need to know what each person is wearing in every scene. We don’t need to know what anyone is wearing unless it has some bearing on the scene.
Description done poorly: Liam walked into the room. He was 6’4” and muscular, with dark hair and gray eyes. He was dressed in a black button-down dress shirt and jeans, and carried a stack of books.
Boring, right? I’ll grant that he sounds good-looking enough on the surface, but what have we actually learned about him? We can assume he knows how to read. And maybe he’s not a slob. But is he a nice guy? Is he cruel? Easygoing? Kind to his grandma? All we’ve learned here is how to pick him out of a police lineup.
This same rule applies to other characters observing another character. If you wouldn’t watch a friend’s football game and think, “Josh’s five foot ten height and massive thighs sure help him to be a better linebacker,” then don’t write that into your story.
Description done well: In Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Hagrid’s first appearance manages to convey exactly how he looks without actually telling any real details, other than the fact that he has bushy black hair and a beard. His height isn’t given, but we get the idea of his bigness when we read phrases like “He was twice as tall as a normal man” and “He looked simply too big to be allowed.”
3. Having one character tell another in dialogue
Most people don’t describe one person to another by giving a rundown of physical characteristics. I realized this one day when my husband asked me to describe a person I was referring to, in the hopes that it would jog his memory. I had a really hard time describing them! “Uh . . . about medium-length hair, very smiley, glasses, average build, maybe a little taller than I am . . .”
All of which prompted his predictable response: “Well, that narrows it down to just about anybody.”
If you don’t talk like this in real life, don’t make your characters speak like that, either. It will sound just as unnatural coming from their mouths: “Oh, look! Over there is my friend Betty. She’s five foot three with green eyes, and weighs 142 pounds.” And Betty probably won’t be happy with you telling strangers what she weighs, regardless of how fit she is.
When this can work: If one character is meeting another for a blind date, they may describe themselves to the other person. “Look for the gray-haired guy with a short beard. I’m about six feet tall, so I’m hard to miss.”
Or let’s say your family is meeting your fiancée for the first time, and you’re picking her up at the airport. “There she is! The one with the long black hair, glasses, tiara—that’s her!”
People are more than a list of specs
Physical characteristics are not the only things that define a person.
Would you rather be known among your friends as “the gangly, brown-haired, blue-eyed boy with spectacles that are always crooked” or would you rather they think of you as “my buddy who’s crazy talented at any stringed instrument he picks up”?
In the same way we wouldn’t want ourselves—our human-ness—boiled down to hair and eye color, we shouldn’t expect that our characters are only the sum of their physical characteristics. They’re so much more than that. Or they should be, anyway.
Next time, we’ll look at personality traits and the subtle ways they can provide smoothness when predicting your characters’ actions and reactions.
