On developing characters - a guest blog by Elizabeth Haynes

Many thanks to the delightful Elizabeth Haynes for contributing this article to Crimewarp.  Elizabeth is the brilliant author of several  best-selling psychological thrillers such as:-




What stands out for me in Elizabeth's novels are the incredibly strong, unique and often quirky characters which invariably keep me hooked throughout the dark plots.  I asked Elizabeth if she would pen us a piece on how she went about developing these characters and she very graciously obliged.

This is Elizabeth's article:-

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Author- Elizabeth Haynes

I am of the opinion that characters need to evolve quite happily by themselves – you just give them a task or two to get things started, and after a week or so of writing they take over and start to do unexpected things. Once you believe that your characters are real people (it’s something you have to go with, both as a writer and, to be fair, if you’re going to read this blog post), then the writing process gets much easier. These individuals (sorry, characters) do really want you to tell their stories, it’s just a case of being the conduit through which they can do that.

I know this sounds really kooky. Bear with.

This theory came a little unstuck for me when I wrote Human Remains, a book which takes as its main themes social isolation and loneliness. I should have seen that as a bit of a warning, right?

The two narrators are both on the fringes of society: Annabel, a police analyst, lives alone with her cat and finds it hard to join in with the banter at work. Colin works for the council and spends his free time collecting academic qualifications and trying to work out why he finds it so difficult to talk to women. Both of them became very real to me straight away, the problem was getting either of them to ‘talk’ to me.

The issue with Annabel was simply that communication is not her strong point. Alas, that includes communication with me. The overwhelming sense I got from her was ‘I’m okay on my own. I don’t need you to tell my story.’

(I told you it was kooky. It’s going to get a little kookier, so brace yourself.)

I got there in the end with Annabel because she and I are very similar in many ways, and therefore she was quite easy to break.

The problem with Colin, however,  was far more complicated: since he is clearly vastly more intelligent than I am, he simply didn't think I was up to the job. Whenever I tried to get into his head, it was like being back in 1987, watching Open University physics modules on BBC2 at four o’clock in the morning, and not understanding a word. What made it worse, Colin thought this was quite amusing. When I persisted in trying to get him to tell me about the death of his father, and his grim childhood with a mother who (like me) didn't understand him, he kept interjecting with increasingly inappropriate references to his porn addiction – muttering things about it being ‘more my level’.

I know, right? Charming.

It felt like a challenge, and I’m not the type to back down, so I persisted with him. I thought maybe he was deliberately trying to push me (and our potential readers) away by being despicable. Whatever he threw at me, I wrote down. Nauseating fantasies, bitchy comments about the people he works with, wordy descriptions of a decomposing bit of roadkill, I went with it – and once he realised I wasn't going to give up, he started to let slip about what really makes him excited. And it’s probably just as well he let me work up to it.

The interesting side effect of letting Colin tell the story his way was how he eventually revealed his vulnerabilities. He doesn't think he has any, of course. But the truth is, he’s desperately lonely – and hasn't got a snowball’s chance in summer of forming any sort of fulfilling relationship because of how his life has unfolded. By the end of the book, without giving anything away, Colin has become a victim of his own hype, both trapped, and contractictingly liberated by his own fearsome intelligence. Whilst he is frankly terrifying, it’s possible to feel a strange sort of sympathy for the man who hasn't actually hurt anyone, and doesn't intend to. His motives are completely altruistic. Bless his heart.

Colin is the scariest villain, and the best character, I think I've ever managed to come up with. The thought that this person exists only in the space between my ears is very strange. I do realise that all this makes me, the author, sounds a bit weird too – so thank you for your patience and for not reporting me to the authorities. I’m quite normal really, whatever that is.

And, as I say to people on Twitter when anyone tells me they are about to start reading Human Remains – I’m sorry about Colin.

Elizabeth Haynes

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Jackie says - I have just finished Human Remains and it was a real page-turner for me.  I loved Annabel with her determination, frustration and vulnerabilities. I was really rooting for her throughout.  My early reaction to Colin (and I think I said this to Elizabeth) was simply "OMG!"  However, my opinion on him evolved as the story unfolded and I'll leave it there for readers to discover the reason for themselves!

Thanks again to Elizabeth for indulging me with her time so graciously.

PS - if you haven't already done so, I would urge readers to check out Elizabeth's blog because it is brilliant. I came across it one evening whilst I was waiting for a DVD to load and I ended up abandoning the DVD.