How to create an action hero with feelings

Laura Cody

June 23, 2020 – 4 min read

Consider two approaches to the same problem:

Approach #1:

-Lay problem bare under harsh fluorescent lights. 

-Excise problem. 

-Fill void with something plastic or titanium. 

-Stitch back together.

Approach #2:

-Verbally explore problem from comfort of an upholstered couch.

-Break problem down into small pieces; process and digest.

-Breathe deeply, be mindful. Aim to get a good night’s sleep

-Forgive yourself when sleep proves elusive.

Approach #1 definitely has its appeal. It is how my writing partner, Graham the Orthopedic Surgeon (yeah, that’s how he refers to himself, in all caps … kidding) solves problems in our writing. When he sees something that he feels is “too wordy” or whines on too long, he does a “snip, snip, get that out of there” kind-of-thing. When I point out, “But, we have to fill the space …” he thinks for about a minute and comes up with something – something usually shiny and expensive like a helicopter that swoops in through a blown-open roof and sprays a round of poison-dipped daggers before bursting into flame. 

This can be fun, but sometimes I think it should make sense in the context of the story.

“Oh, sense shmense. This is what people love. Haven’t you seen any movies from the Marvel Universe?”

“Um, yeah, but maybe there should be some build up to the action.”

“Build-up is boring.”

“Okay. How about reacting. Or processing.”

Yawn.

“Really, our characters need more humanity than you give them. Like, take that scene where the love-interest is strangled, thrown out a window, and impaled on a piece of wrought iron … And the boyfriend’s reaction is “Oh, snap!”

“Well, he’s busy. He has to keep moving.”

“Or when we have a group of characters about to be burned alive in a sealed tomb, and the strongest sentiment any of them express is ‘goshdarnit.’”

“That’s because they’re intellectuals. They compartmentalize.”

“Nobody compartmentalizes when flames are licking at their skin.”

Approach #2 is my preference. That is, the preference of the psychiatrist in our twodocswriting team. I find it important to acknowledge trauma, tears, anxiety, heartbreak and fear – to let the reader know that our characters are not just having these wild experiences in an emotional vacuum. 

Graham worries that these things add too many words, weighing our story down with unnecessary bulk. “You know, I can cut half the words out of this book without cutting any action,” he offers.

“Please don’t.”

“But why do the characters have so many thoughts?”

“Because people think.” 

Things don’t just happen to people. Often, people make things happen. There is planning or not planning; there may be avoiding. An action (or lack thereof) leads to a reaction, and people learn. They adapt and change. Highlighting these very human activities adds a touch of needed realism and makes a story more relatable. 

There is a lot to learn when writing with a partner. (And a lot of adapting. And a lot of change). We view conflict in different ways and offer different resolutions. Sometimes what seems so clear to one of us hasn’t even occurred to the other. As humans, we all have different viewpoints, different perspectives. This is why we, as humans, often benefit from discussing problems with a trusted friend, mentor, counselor, or clergy member. 

This is why I benefit from having a writing partner. 

In the end, Graham and I compromise. We take Approach #1 and Approach #2, combine them, and morph them into something that suits us both – kind of an Approach #3. Not his, not mine. Our approach. We’ll have action and we’ll have heroes, but so help me, there is going to be baggage and there is going to be grief and there is going to trauma to work through – all the fun stuff, in one place.

Graham’s rebuttal: ACTION RULES! Long live the MCU!!

P.S. With the right knife, I could cut the word count of this blog in half … 🙂