{"id":170259,"date":"2025-07-11T10:00:00","date_gmt":"2025-07-11T09:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/jerichowriters.com\/townhouse\/?p=170259"},"modified":"2025-07-11T10:00:00","modified_gmt":"2025-07-11T09:00:00","slug":"characters-through-character","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jerichowriters.com\/characters-through-character\/","title":{"rendered":"Characters through character"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Last week, we looked at a couple of solo flights \u2013 characters brought to life only<\/em> from their dialogue or only<\/em> from their interior reflection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But that\u2019s not mostly how stories go. Mostly, we have a point of view character through whom we meet others. So what we get is character-through-character. The reader interprets the third party character from what the point-of-view character is reporting \u2013 but that interpretation always takes into account who\u2019s telling the story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That all sounds slightly academic, but it\u2019s not really \u2013 it\u2019s normal human. Suppose I find there is chocolate cake mess all over my kitchen, and some story about a dog jumping up and scoffing it. Well, fine \u2013 but my understanding of what\u2019s happened will depend rather a lot on whether my wife is telling the story \u2026 or a very chocolatey 6-year-old.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So here\u2019s a chunk of action \u2013 narrated by dear old Fiona \u2013 in which she interacts with a woman named Anna Quintrell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The scene is set in a two-custody cell in a modern custody suite. Quintrell is an accountant who\u2019d been busted for something bad. Fiona has been working undercover, but Quintrell doesn\u2019t know that and still thinks Fiona was part of her gang. Fiona has a visible face injury which she acquired on purpose \u2013 she wanted to look the part. She\u2019s asked that the custody cell be made as cold as possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here\u2019s the scene, a complete (but very short) chapter:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Quintrell is brought to the cell when the light is dying.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looks rough. Not injured and knocked about, like me, but exhausted. Defeated. She\u2019s still in her cutesy little summer dress, but someone has given her a grey fleece to wear over the top.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

We stare at each other.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She sits on her bed. There are four blankets in the room and I\u2019ve got them all.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018What happened to you?\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Resisting arrest,\u2019 I say. \u2018Except some of it happened after arrest.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She draws her legs up on the bed. \u2018Can I have my blankets?\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I give her one.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018And another?\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I tell her to fuck off. Say I\u2019m cold.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018So am I.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shrug. Not interested.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s a pause. A pause sealed off by steel doors and concrete walls.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018They bugged my house. My phone. They\u2019ve got everything.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shrug.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Light dies in the ceiling.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She tries to make herself comfortable. Twitches the fleece and blanket, trying to get warm. A losing game.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s a call button by the door which allows prisoners to ask for help from staff. She presses it, asks for more bedclothes. Someone laughs at her and tells her to go to sleep.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She stands by my bed and says plaintively. \u2018You\u2019ve got my blanket.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I tell her again to fuck off. She\u2019s bigger than me, but I\u2019m scarier. She goes back to her bed.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The light fades some more. I try to sleep. The aspirin has worn off and my head hurts. Quintrell starts crying. Quiet sobs, that tumble into the blanket and are smothered. Down the corridor, we can hear more suspects being brought in and processed. Doors slam through the night: church bells calling the hour.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sleep.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

And that\u2019s it. The scene is so simple that, in a way, there\u2019s not much to say about it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The central element here is the establishment of a power hierarchy. When they were both in the criminal gang, Quintrell was Fiona\u2019s boss. She was taller, richer, more educated (she thought), more powerful. In here, though, that\u2019s all inverted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A cutsie summer dress is replaced by a grey fleece. The resources people fight over aren\u2019t elegant homes (a contest where Quintrell won, but prison-issue blankets (a contest where Fiona wins 3-1.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There are only two scraps of non-blanket related dialogue. The first is the bit about Fiona\u2019s injury.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She tells Quintrell she was hurt once \u2018resisting arrest\u2019 \u2013 that is, she claims she fought the police who tried to arrest her. And part of the injury was after arrest, meaning that she was beaten up during interrogation. That\u2019s not true \u2013 Fiona and the reader know it\u2019s not true \u2013 but<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \n
  1. It makes Quintrell even more scared about her situation and<\/li>\n\n\n\n
  2. It makes Fiona look even scarier to Quintrell, because she gets beaten up by cops and doesn\u2019t even seem that perturbed by it.<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n\n\n\n

    The other non-blanket related moment is Quintrell saying, \u2018They bugged my house. My phone. They\u2019ve got everything.<\/em>\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    That\u2019s Quintrell looking at total defeat \u2013 a prison sentence stretching ahead of her. But it\u2019s also a frightened woman reaching out to someone who might be a friend. It\u2019s a request for sympathy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    That request gets yet another shrug. So far Quintrell has received from Fiona:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      \n
    1. A stare<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    2. A blanket<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    3. A \u2018fuck off\u2019<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    4. Two shrugs.<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n\n\n\n

      That\u2019s not really much of a basis for friendship, so Quintrell who is imprisoned and cold and facing jail is now also friendless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Nothing at all has happened in this scene, except that: \u2018Quintrell starts crying. Quiet sobs, that tumble into the blanket and are smothered.<\/em>\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

       That moment of crying is the bit Fiona has been working to achieve. In the morning, when they wake, Fiona shows a tiny bit of openness to friendship. Here\u2019s a tiny snippet from the chapter that follows:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Quintrell trusts my legend [=<\/em>undercover identity] completely now. Perhaps she did before, I don\u2019t know, but my injuries and my presence here have washed away any last trace of suspicion.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      I cover up with blankets again. Then relent and throw one over to Quintrell.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      \u2018Thanks.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      She pulls the blanket over her shoulders and arranges it over her front. She looks like a disaster relief victim, or would do if disaster relief victims wore pretty little summer dresses with matching loafers.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      \u2018I like your dress.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      \u2018Thanks.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Silence fills the cell.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Fiona gives Quintrell a blanket and says something nice about her dress. That\u2019s the nudge that Quintrell needs to turn all confessional. She starts spilling her heart out to Fiona \u2026 unaware that the whole thing is being recorded. She ends up incriminating herself and most of her fellow gang-members.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      And throughout all this, we always learn more about Quintrell, but always through a Fiona-ish lens. A Jack Reacher type character might have noted the dress \u2013 roughly: \u201cshe wore a blue and white summer dress\u201d \u2013 but wouldn\u2019t have got involved with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      A more feminine type character might have started to characterise the dress a bit more. (\u201cA summer dress, but smart, almost nautical. A dress that wanted to hold a glass of cold white wine overlooking some sunny beachfront in the Hamptons.\u201d)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Fiona is feminine enough to circle back to Quintrell\u2019s clothes, but in a Fiona-ish way \u2013 \u2018if disaster relief victims wore pretty little summer dresses \u2026\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      So every time we learn something about Quintrell, we also learn something about Fiona. And in fact, because Fiona\u2019s undercover, we understand Fiona herself at two levels: the Fiona she\u2019s pretending to be, and the Fiona she really is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Last week, I said that our two masters of fiction worked via (i) putting some real unpredictability into their characters and (ii) letting us, the reader, figure out what\u2019s going on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      The scene we\u2019ve looked at today involves two people not one, so the focus is always shared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      But the same basic rule applies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Keep the scene unpredictable. Here, the scene gets its tension in part because we know that Fiona isn\u2019t actually a horrible cow. She\u2019s someone who normally would share her blankets or comfort a woman in distress. So we keep sort of expecting her to do just that. But she doesn\u2019t. She keeps the blankets and tells woman-in-distress to fuck off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Fiona\u2019s a joy to write in part because she brings her own built-in unpredictability. You have to pay close attention to the scene, because (this is Fiona) you just aren\u2019t sure what\u2019 happening next.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      And: don\u2019t explain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      There\u2019s basically no explanation for the reader at all in the parts I\u2019ve just quoted. A little further on, though, we get this:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      I say, \u2018Anna, how did you get into all this? Why did you get started?\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      And she tells me.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Almost without further prompting. Without thought for where she is or who could be listening. It\u2019s a beautiful illustration of the interrogator\u2019s oldest maxim: that people want to confess. An urge as deep as breathing. The beautiful relief of sharing secrets.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      That last paragraph is the first time that Fiona explains anything to the reader. But (and I think this is a pretty good rule in fiction) that the explanation is only given, once the reader already (kind of) knows it<\/em>. (If you\u2019re explaining how custody suites work or rules around covert recording, that\u2019s different. I\u2019m talking here about character\/emotional type explanations.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      In effect, what Fiona is doing here is simply voicing something that the reader has already figured out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      So the reader brain is doing something like this: \u201cWow, Fiona is being a real cow. And blimey, Quintrell looks defeated. Oh, she\u2019s crying now. And what\u2019s this? Fiona\u2019s being a little bit nice this morning. Bet Quintrell needs that. And \u2013 aha! \u2013 Fiona\u2019s now basically inviting Quintrell to confess to everything. She really shouldn\u2019t do that, but I can see she\u2019s absolutely going to.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      All that Fiona is doing with her \u2018urge to confess\u2019 paragraph is wrapping that already-existing<\/em> understanding up into a nice little package, so the reader-brain can dock that bit of knowledge and move on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Always with these emails, I learn what I think by writing the email.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      So, honestly, I wasn\u2019t quite sure what I was going to find today, but I think this last lesson is the big one. It\u2019s OK to explain something character-related to the reader \u2026 but you need to only do that once the reader already basically knows. You\u2019re drawing a line under something so you can move on, but the reader needs to have done the work for themselves first.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Here endeth the lesson.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      And if you find yourself in a cell with Fiona, then keep your mouth shut \u2013 and your blankets close.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      FEEDBACK FRIDAY \/ Explanations<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Interesting one today. I want you to find a place in your text where you explain something about character X. Does the reader already kind of know what you\u2019re saying, or not? Why is the explanation here. Find a 300 word chunk and tell us your thoughts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      When you’re ready, log into Townhouse and share your extract here<\/a><\/strong>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Til soon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      Harry<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

      Last week, we looked at a couple of solo flights \u2013 characters brought to life only from their dialogue or only from their interior reflection. But that\u2019s not mostly how stories go. Mostly, we have a point of view character through whom we meet others. So what we get is character-through-character. The reader interprets the<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":32,"featured_media":21810,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[29292],"tags":[29213],"class_list":["post-170259","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-harrys-friday-email","tag-harry-friday-email"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nJericho Writers<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/jerichowriters.com\/characters-through-character\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_GB\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Characters through character – Jericho Writers\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Last week, we looked at a couple of solo flights \u2013 characters brought to life only from their dialogue or only from their interior reflection. 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