I’m the author. Character, tell me why you just did [thing]!

[Character glares from screen, arms folded, silent as a clam.]

SIGH. Florian is not cooperating. The character who has a quip, observation, or joke about anything (almost), refuses to talk to me, the author. How rude.

If you work from outlines, or know your characters before you start working them into the story, you probably don’t have this problem. Your character might be taciturn, but he’s a known entity. You have his story roughed out already, and his being noncommunicative is just part of what makes him unusual, or typical. What motivates him? You know that already. You’ve sketched out his path and don’t have to worry about him keeping quiet.

I’m more of a “write as I go” person. I’ve got a general sense of the story, and what the McGuffin is (at least in this case). I might know how it fits into the larger plot arc of the series, if there is one. Older characters are known entities, most of the time*, and are somewhat easier to write. But every so often a character comes along who is completely opaque, at least to my fore-brain’s way of working. The millwright was like that for a long time. He refused to tell me his motivations and reasons, much of his back story, or other things. He was a task-oriented cypher for a long time. SIGH.

Now I’ve got a very different character. He’s a bit of a joker and wise-acre, or at least that’s his public face. I’ve been getting hints that there’s a lot of depth below the surface. For all his joking, when trouble comes, he’s deadly serious, and a very skilled tracker and fighter. He’s one of the strongest sensitives among the hunters of evil, able to sense magic and corrupted creatures even though he can’t work magic himself. And he’s very devout, to the point that he’s taken a private religious vow of some kind. Now he’s the main character in a short story, and … He stopped talking. The earlier hints are all I have to work from at the moment. I have the problem he has to help solve, and the supporting characters. But Florian? Not a word. I have to write out the story to find out what makes him tick, trusting to my hind-brain to steer my writing brain in the proper direction and letting the character unfold as I go.

I’m a control freak. I don’t like this. On the other hand, this isn’t the first time I’ve had characters who held cards close to their chests. On the gripping hand, at least Florian’s already the protagonist, so I don’t have to worry about him hijacking the story and dragging the plot arc out of my hand [glares at Josckha von Hohen-Drachenburg].

Don’t feel bad if your characters balk at giving you details or background. Sometimes the story unrolls as the author writes. Trust your gut, and work with what you do know to discover the unknowns and sort them out.

*Arthur Saldovado …. Who he was in the first five books changed completely as the series progressed, in part because of a song that flipped his personal plot arc. “Raven Child” by Avantasia, if you are curious.