Layton: A Work in Progress

Layton Brooks is the main character in my book, Living Between the Ditches: When God Makes No Sense. Whether you've read the book or not, you may be interested in the general subject of fictional character development. Or not. Stick with me on this. If you're still reading the book (true for 9 out of 10 of you!), don't worry. I'm not going to give anything away. I really do want you to finish it and write me a good on-line review!

At the beginning of the book Layton is angry and frustrated. Those of us who have been in a serious relationship (or grew up in a family!) can relate to his feelings. Layton is angry with his ex-wife (not too surprising) but he's also angry with God. I think most of us can also relate to this predicament. We don't feel comfortable being angry with God, and we certainly don't want to tell Him that. Why be too confrontational with Someone who can zap you right off the planet!

Layton is a kind of Everyman. If I may be so bold, we're all a little self-centered, caught up in our own side of things, and out of touch with some of our feelings. In fact we may be uneasy about sharing feelings, period. We can identify with Layton's foibles without too much discomfort. These are normal human emotions.

Layton's view of God is also fairly common. At some point in our lives, most people feel God let them down. I know I did, and I share that in the book. Layton thinks he's at least as good as most anybody he knows, yet he's dealing with some serious stuff. Is a God who seems to have turned His back on you a good God? Is He a giver or a taker?

In my main character I needed someone who represented being in a ditch—or one side of a spiritual paradox—as a means of illustrating my analogy. Layton is a vehicle, as it were, for helping us visualize our own ditch-dwelling and then, finding our way out. Of course, we need God's help to do that.

To some degree developing a fictional character resembles watching a movie play out in the author's mind. Although I had a story line in mind, Layton grew in depth and character as the story unfolded. I didn't know I'd come to care for Layton so much, or share his struggles, feel some of his pain, and wish him well in the conquest of his demons. You see, I wasn't prepared to like Layton because he represented a side of myself I don't like very much.

Perhaps in the end I learned to accept myself more—warts and all. Hopefully, that will be true for you, as well.

In my next post I'll tell about Amy, Layton's ex-wife, who I wasn't prepared to like, as well.

Merging Fiction and Nonfiction: A Busy Intersection

In my previous blog I described how the combination of fiction and nonfiction came about in my book Living Between the Ditches: When God Makes No Sense. Although the idea originated with my son, Mark, the idea took root and began to grow right before my very eyes.

I soon discovered problem one: the story line didn't keep up with the content, or—was it the content that didn't keep up with the story? Interspersing them proved more difficult than I would have imagined. For example, Layton's visit to the gift shop on p. 49 was added after the chapter was finished in order to break up the teaching into chewable bites. As it turned out, the bear Paychunts became part of the character development of Brianne, as witnessed by her dialogue on p. 138.

A second problem was transitions. How would I get from Layton's story into the biblical truth and back again? Would the reader feel that he or she had been pulled from one world into the other in jerking motions, or would the manuscript flow? My copy editor, Bethany, helped immensely. All she had to do was insert the words, say what?—or some similar comment to let me know I had lost her. Occasionally, she'd guess at the invisible link!

A third problem was distinguishing the dialogue of the story from the text of the content. By putting the dialogue in italics, the fictional portion looked different. Thinking up subtitles was harder than you might imagine because again, they had to help with the transition. A last minute idea was almost my undoing. By labeling each fictional portion with a day and hour, I attempted to help the reader keep track of the time line. Unfortunately, my due day to the printer came around before I had adequately proofed the text. Did any of you catch the error on page 49? It should read "Tuesday." (I've had it corrected for subsequent copies.)

The fact that the fiction and nonfiction came together at last into a cohesive whole (or am I being too optimistic?) is proof that God is still in the miracle-working business! I learned a lot in the process, and now I'm putting what I learned to good use in my second book. The main character is Parker, and like Layton, he's having some trouble wedging himself into to this book's paradox. Pray that he makes it!

Speaking of main characters, we'll talk about the development of Layton's character next.

How A Non-Fiction Book Turned Fictional—Not Ficticious

A funny thing happened on my way to writing a nonfiction book of spiritual insights God had so graciously given me. I let my 30-something son Mark read the fledgling manuscript, and if you've read Living Between the Ditches: When God Makes No Sense, the dedication recounts his reaction.

"Mom," he said, "I think you've got something here." The rest of the story: he began to explain his generation to me. "If you want me to finish the book, you've got to peak my interest. I'm easily distracted, so even though I like your book, when something else grabs my attention, I probably won't come back to it. Then something else will divert me from that."

A little depressed by his prognosis, I asked,"So what can I do to keep you interested?"

Mark listed some options, including telling a story. He suggested, "Since you're talking about life as a journey, make up a story about a guy going on a cross-country trip." Then he left me to my machinations. I didn't know if I could write more than a short story, and Mark seemed to be implying one that would follow the book to its end. Hum—a novelette.

Boing! An idea began to form—I'll claim it was from above until someone can prove differently. A young man going on a trip from the east coast to—to—where? The town I knew best was the one I live in, so obviously he would be going to Nashville.

I knew he would be a young man because I wanted my nonfiction portion to be for both genders. From my experience as an editor I knew men would read about a man but not likely about a woman. I also knew he'd have to have a name unlike anyone I'd ever known personally. No sense in ruining a relationship.

So Layton Brooks was born. He was, of course, in between the ages of my two grown sons—a span of time I figured I knew something about. My writing instructors always told me to write about something I knew, and I thought I had a few clues about 30-something men.

But why would he be making this trip? It would have to involve the thesis of my book: that Christians walking the narrow road on the path to God's house would easily fall into a ditch on either side of the road—unless they learned to stay in the middle. Christians needed to live between the ditches. 

Layton needed to be a ditch-hopper: someone who'd bounced from one ditch to another as I had done on my Christian pilgrimage. I figured Layton had stepped off the road for the same reasons many of us do, so I had a plot. All I needed was merely to make it an interesting story with believable characters and a tug or two at the old heartstrings. How hard could that be?

If you haven't read the book, I'm not going to give away any secrets. After all, you yet-to-purchase-my-book bloggers are my only hope for retirement. But I do want to share something about developing fictional characters.

In my next blogs I'll talk about Layton, then Amy and Brianne. At some point you'll learn who was my favorite character(s). I think you'll be surprised.