I was lying on my couch enjoying a little downtime along with my two pups, Moke and Misha, and an extra, Harley, who’s Misha’s sister and visits often. I was chill. They were chill. Until suddenly, they weren’t. Little did I know that I was about to experience an unexpected twist in the most immediate way.
Out of nowhere, Misha’s head jerked up. So did his sister’s. They looked at each other, sat up at attention, and were off. From his position beside the couch, my 65-pound pup could have bounded up and over the armchair with its ottoman. He could have darted around the couch. Instead, he pivoted and used my face as his launchpad, gouging my chin in the process.
It hurt. It bled. And I guilted him for the rest of that day and the next, as I covered the damage with antibiotic gel and a Band-Aid so it wouldn’t scar, or at least not scar as badly.
As much as I didn’t care for that kind of unexpected twist from my dog, I love to encounter that with fictional characters. Having them behave unpredictably or in a way they never have and then have to face the consequences adds drama (I can vouch for that!) and keeps things interesting.
One of my favorite examples of this is the bad-guy character who starred in my long-term writing coach client, Barbara Hinske‘s first novel, Coming to Rosemont, which would go on to become a bestselling series. Yes, he’s about to defraud a town in a way that will rob elderly residents of their pensions. How low can you go? And yet, as the book opens, he stops along a highway in the rain to rescue a stray dog and take it to the shelter he founded.
Okay, I know. I have a soft spot when it comes to dogs. Still, I loved the idea of a guy who rescues them even though he seemingly has no moral compass.
I suppose I liked Fanchon Blake, the cop with whom I wrote Busting the Brass Ceiling, because despite her love for the LAPD, she didn’t hesitate to sue them for sex discrimination when the department was threatening to eliminate women from the force. And I like the fact that years later, that same woman whose landmark case would change the face of policing, is now celebrated by the very department she battled and defeated in court.
Predictability in life and in literature might be comfortable, but it’s boring. Whether you’re coming up with the characters that will drive your novel or the unexpected twists that will keep your readers guessing, going for the tried and true won’t serve you. So, the next time you sit down to create your protagonist, your antagonist, and/or your plot, think about sweet Misha pouncing on my face and you’ll know what you need to do.