A lot of writing advice will tell you about the need to stay true to characters and not have them simply making the decisions the plot needs. But what does it look like? Recently, I thought I saw it in Mercedes Lackey's Owlsight and I wanted to share this with people. I enjoy Lackey's stories, but sometimes they do feel a little tidy which mars enjoyment. This was one of these times.
It started with Darian, the MC, chilling like a villain at a big party at his new adopted home. To give a little background - Darian is a conscientious, polite young man who has shown a willingness to take on a mature adult's role responsibly in the first book of the series (Owlsight is second). His new home is a Tayledras vale, and while he has been an adopted Tayledras for a long time by this point, this is his first time actually visiting his home.
Now, here's the two quotes that set my spidey-senses tingling:
"For the most part, his erstwhile dancing partners were just as winded as he was, and the hertasi
circulating among them with more of the refreshing mint-flavored drink soon found themselves
emptyhanded. Summerdance was the only one who still had breath to talk; she introduced him to the
other dancers, but he promptly forgot most of their names."
"He paid quite careful attention to their names as Nightbird introduced her friends, and fixed
names properly with the faces in his memory."
These two quotes are mere pages apart, perhaps a couple of hours apart in story-time. Either reaction makes sense - being overwhelmed, being conscientious - but they are two different reactions from the same character to the same situation. Nothing is important, but it created an impression in my mind that Lackey wasn't sticking to what made Darian Darian.
"Now hang on," you might say. "You've already said both reactions make sense. Real people have different reactions all the time." True, and this only goes to show how difficult it is for fictional characters to demonstrate all the fickleness of real people while feeling like they have a strong personality. Maybe this isn't fair, but what the reader sees is what they see. There needs to be some sort of explanation.
"Well, he's tired one time, he's not the other". Again, true. But I only realised that when putting this article together after reading and having a slightly lukewarm impression of aspects of the book. If there's one thing I've learned from beta readers, it's that it's really hard to overestimate how explicit you have to be for a reader to notice something. Even realising it, it still feels a bit convenient. The lad paying careful attention wouldn't even try to remember the names when exhausted? To pick another example from the party:
"Darian motioned Summerdance to go in ahead of him, feeling as if he would
make a poor showing if he let hunger overcome manners."
And let's pick another from a little after, when news of a barbarian invasion prompts him leaving his new home:
"He paid very close attention to his feelings about her and tried his best to decipher hers for him;
he didn’t want to leave without her if what tied them together was closer than mere friendship. Their
dalliance on the night of the wedding had been an entirely new set of experiences for him, and like a child
with a new tooth, he felt as if he had to probe his feelings constantly to see what they were.
He might even have convinced himself that he and Summerdance were meant for each other as
permanent partners, if it hadn’t been for the fact that she didn’t act any differently toward him than she
did toward any other young man whose company she enjoyed."
Darian doesn't let duress affect him. That's who he is. Emotions, physical discomfort - he stays in control. Until all of a sudden he doesn't. Whenever he doesn't, it looks off. And if it wasn't for that one small slip there, I mightn't have noticed.
This issue only comes back right at the climax (the fact Darian's grace under pressure isn't really tested for most of the book is a big sign as to what sort of book this is, for better or for ill). The barbarian invasion is more complicated than a straight military fight; there is a risk of pandemic, a question of whether to fight at all. It's also the conclusion of the other arc in the book, that of Keisha, village healer and Darian's love interest. We start to see this as Keisha's sister, Shandi, a trainee-Herald, appears out of nowhere on the strength of magical foresight. Despite reasoning Keisha out of her fears over Shandi, Darian is very short with her, telling her she must obey orders and acting like she has no understanding of the situation; he accuses Keisha of acting like Keisha's mother, then dresses down Shandi like he was her father.
There is no reason for him to be so logical with Keisha, then be emotional and confrontational with Shandi. The latter is very unlike him and there doesn't seem to be a reason that makes sense other than the author wanting to inject drama. Reasons are given - Darian is "unimpressed by Shandi's casual attitude" - but they didn't persuade me. Not only did Shandi not come as casual to me (more like the adrenaline of tiredness, which anyone with Darian's experience would recognise), but even if she had, for a polite, conscientious young man (who fancies her sister) go off like that rather than being diplomatic? That wasn't the Darian Lackey had persuaded me existed, and Lackey presenting me with a different Darian to cause drama is a sour note.
Then, as the temperature rises and they debate options, Darian decides to keep his own idea quiet in order to avoid being ordered not to pursue it; to capture an enemy so they can get their language by them from magic and start talking to them. A clash between responsibility and a sense of respect would be an interesting dilemma for Darian that goes by sadly fast, but it looks far less of a clash for the way Darian has treated Shandi. He believes in orders and being careful, until it's convenient otherwise. What's the excuse here? The traditional disease of the protagonist that the rules only apply to them? It makes Darian less. It makes the story less. When the story tells me Darian is right, I can't agree.
There is one final wrinkle here. Keisha and Darian do indeed get their captive, and he fetches his brother who needs curing from the disease. Once that happens, Darian decides leaving the young unexperienced healer alone to cure a deadly disease she's never encountered before is a-okay, because now he has to report. As responsible judgments go it's a bit of a disaster, but hey, if he helps, where's the big dramatic finish where Darian and Shandi have to give Keisha the strength to make it? Which would be a good finish if I believed in it. But I don't.
What could have been done differently?
1. Emphasise there's two sides to the character early
If you want a character to be able to act against their most dominant personality traits, you need to establish this can happen and how. A good example is how Bernard Cornwell handles Arthur in The Warlord Chronicles - a good and virtuous ruler with sudden fits of ruthlessness and anger that simultaneously enable him to be a good and virtuous ruler yet undermine him. How do we know that's how he is so we aren't alarmed the first time it happens? Because other characters tell the MC so. You can also trace it in the actions - the elimination of rivals, the harshness when heartbroken, the ethically dubious deals - but its show *and* tell here.
Incidentally, the fact that a single character trait has a dark and light side - that Arthur's ambition enables him to be a successful warlord, enabling him to be a good ruler, but also leads to him making fatal mistakes - is also hugely beneficial here. There was so much Lackey could have done with Darian's sense of responsibility, but she didn't. And that's partly because didn't...
2. Make Things Worse
If all of a character's possibly out of character decisions work in their favour, it looks convenient. If it frequently doesn't, then there's still some issues, because then it looks like they conveniently become an idiot when the plot needs it. Bad things are needed though, if only to mix up the pattern. There is more to this though. Bad things give us a prism for revealing who characters really are; it's easy to be good when times are good, less so when they are hard. When we make the events hard, the choices hard, we are allowing the characters to really establish themselves. Who knows? Maybe I read Darian's character all wrong. But if I did, let's ask why. Why? He had no hard times for most of the book. Of course, this is a feature of Lackey's and not a bug, but it is one that makes some writing options hard.
3. Consistency
Of course, there's an easy option of simply being more consistent. Or having other characters call out the hypocrisy. Or having Darian apologise. Or, just, well, back to the consistency.
Owlsight is a good book. But there's a big lesson for authors that prevents it from being more.
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