When my grandfather went out to eat he always put sugar in his coffee, even though he didn’t like sugar in his coffee. He did it because the sugar was free.
I’ve heard that little story dozens of times since I was a boy. It comes up all the time when my family talks about my grandfather. It sums him up in two sentences. If you know that story, you know a lot about him.
Lately I’ve been working to make characters come to life in a story I’m writing. I struggle. I create backgrounds for them so I know how they think, how they talk, what foods they hate, and what they shout when having sex. I make them do and say significant things that will show who they are. But I often fail to build the thing I’m looking for—that fundamental, defining image as stark as being caught in a lightning flash.
I think I’ve overlooked the Free Sugar Factor.
The Free Sugar Factor involves a person doing something that’s habitual, probably trivial, and always unusual. It’s the kind of thing his family would bring up when they talk about him. They might say, “Oh yeah, whenever Aunt Jane got mad she’d drive to the grocery store and sit in the parking lot for an hour or two. What a character.”
The Free Sugar Factor isn’t some pathological behavior, unless the person really is a maniac. It’s doing something everyone else thinks is peculiar, but it makes perfect sense to the person doing it. We all do these things. It’s part of what makes us real people. I’m not sure, but I think mine may have something to do with turkey sandwiches.
To illuminate this whole concept, here are a couple of Free Sugar Factor examples from real people.
My father’s Aunt Delphi, who he swears was the best cook in the world, made a gigantic pan of biscuits in her wood burning stove every morning, far more than the household could eat. The family would eat about a fourth of the biscuits, and then she’d feed the rest to her husband’s coon dogs.
When I was a boy, my father kept a perfectly tuned diesel engine on blocks in the backyard, as I’m sure everyone else’s father did too. It drew diesel fuel from the gas can sitting next to it. Every day when he came home from work he started up the engine and stood there letting it run for a while.
The Free Sugar Factor usually involves a habitual act, but not always. Some isolated acts are definitive in themselves and forever after show what that person was about. For example, when my mother was three years old, her six-year-old brother took her to the nearby store to see Santa Claus. They joined a long line, and they stood just behind an overweight woman. My uncle kicked the woman right in the middle of her ass and said, “Get the hell out of my way, fat lady, I’ve got to go see Santa Claus!”
I’ll bet that gave you an image of who he is.
Pass the sugar please. I find it hard to believe that you have a problem bringing characters to life. I LOVE your creative mind. It’s very impressive. Are you too critical of your own work? Well, I guess everyone is…including me. So, forget that question. In fact, forget this posting. This is nothing at all. Nothing but a whole bunch of letters in a certain order, bunched together to form words…and sentences. Nothing to see here.
I sense that someone was trying to tell me something, but it dissipated into nothingness just before I grasped the full meaning. I think it was giving me permission to extoll my work’s magnificence today and then tomorrow damn it to the same hell where my teenage poetry went to suffer forever. Whatever it is, I should probably buy it a tequila shot should we ever find ourselves co-located.
This was very enlightening. Thank you.
It was for me when it smashed me over the head without warning. Thank you for confirming that someone else found it useful too!
This makes so much sense ! I’ve always wanted to label that concept into a concrete statement but couldn’t find the words or proper description for it. I feel that’s what makes a character most memorable above their most unusual circumstances.
YES. I knew someone who split up with a boyfriend because he always picked the green leafy bits off the top of his tomatoes before he bought them so that they would weigh less. She felt this was a symptom of some undesirable character traits that would become more apparent as their relationship developed. I am inclined to agree.
I like two dimensional characters. They’re easier to stack.
Well, you definitely build good characters! I love the story about your Aunt and your father – you do bring them to life. I hope that this helped you bring your characters around better 🙂