Character Sketches

The book I have which is a "trainer" for beginning novelists, suggests beginning with character sketches, chronologies and back stories. It suggests using longhand until the back story is finished, but I wanted to enter something! The writing isn't the overall aim here, although I'm open to suggestions - the aim is to get the characters formed. I've done four sketches so far :

Sketch One : Roy McLaird
Here we can see a stocky, youngish man, aged around 30 or so. He's neither tall nor short, around 5 foot 8, slightly overweight. You couldn't call him fat, but he would obviously benefit from some exercise. And, you think, as he bites enthusiastically into his hamburger, one of three lined up on the plastic tray, improved eating habits. His hair is dishevelled and without style. Roy is not one to pay undue attention to his appearance. The colour of his hair matches his complexion - mousy with a tinge of red. Everything about him sits well together, the slightly spotty skin, the tousled, dirty hair, the grubby shirt, everything is totally congruous, nothing seems to be out of place. As you study him more closely though, you notice a glint from under the ragged cuffs of his shirt. The glint comes from his watch, which stands out starkly against his pallid, dingey forearm. Away from work Roy's skin would be pale with the merest hint of freckles and tan. Today, though, he has evidence of the days' graft all over him and the freckles are hidden under the grime. His clothes today are those of any other manual worker. The bright orange fluorescent shirt serves not only to highlight his presence, but underlines his pasty pallor. and one gets the feeling that his out-of-work clothing wouldn't be greatly different.

Roy may well be slightly overweight, but his occupation seems to ensure that his muscular frame remains well-defined, evidenced by the solid muscles around his neck and arms. He does seem uncomfortable though in this open cafe environment, shifting uneasily in his little seat, the seat seemingly too small for him to position himself without undue difficulty. He leans back, sits forward, shuffles his feet, before returning awkwardly to his original position. The shifting starts again moments later. His eyes seem to be shifting back and forth as if he is looking for something, perhaps nervously, perhaps expectantly? Rubbing his hands through his hair, he moves as if to leave and then returns to his earlier shifting.

Roy was born in Temuka, New Zealand on 17 June 1975 and lives alone in an old weatherboard house, left to him by his parents, long since passed away. His favourite place in the whole house is the verandah where he can sit with his can of beer and watch the park across the street. He used to play in this park, and now he watches others play. He drives a white Holden ute, common to manual workers in the area. Like Roy, the ute has seen better days; it's a bit rusted and worn, but it's functional so he doesn't see any point to changing it. He used to have a dog that travelled with him on the ute tray, but the dog has gone too. His home is littered with memories of his parents, but has little of "him". Sometimes, he feels like a stranger in this house, but it is at least a roof. The house hasn't changed since his parents died. The same carpet is in every room - a mottled green/grey paisley showing definite signs of wear and decay. The kitchen and bathroom have old lino curling away from the floor. The walls of the living areas are a dark Edwardian flock, which lends an oppressive feel to the inside of the house. That along with the not-quite-belonging feeling drives Roy to the verandah.

He needs to find meaning to his life. He feels that life is passing him by. He knows that life is out there - he sees it every night from his verandah, but doesn't know how to get to it. He wants to marry, but is wary of women, he wants children, but is afraid of them and their demands. He wants the dream but on his terms. He often feels like he is trapped in the wrong time, and longs for times gone past, where things were less complex, and people were less complex.




That's the first one ... now that I've started typing I think I could go on forever! But I want to stay disciplined. This is one character out of four so far and I know there's others in there; but I would appreciate your feedback on this one?

Be honest - I can take it, lol :)