No one likes change, right? But sometimes it becomes a necessity, as it has this spring, and we adjust to it.
What makes us change? And how can you use that in writing fiction?
Change comes about when the need to change is greater than the need or desire to remain the same.
The current situation is an example: No one likes wearing a mask, including me. A mask is hot, makes it harder to breathe so I get tired more easily, causes my glasses to fog up, and keeps other people from seeing my smile (I like to smile, even at strangers). But when the danger of catching this nasty virus—and possibly giving it to my loved ones—became evident, I started wearing a mask anytime I go into a store.
At first, I was one of a few with a facemask on. Now it’s rare to see anyone without one. The need for a mask became important enough to make me wear one. Change has happened (although we all hope it won’t need to be lasting change).
On a deeper level, many people have had to slow down and reevaluate their lives, perhaps focusing more on their families than on their jobs. For some, social (or physical) isolation caused them to realize the flaws in their belief in chasing the dollar. Such a change is likely to have some staying power, so they spend more time with their family even after the “stay-home” orders are lifted.
A strong fictional story also needs to have a catalyst for change that is equal to or stronger than the character’s belief at the start of the story. In a romance where the heroine has no desire to marry, she will not change her mind until a hero comes along who causes her to realize marriage to him will fulfill her greatest desire. Meeting a handsome guy is not enough—she must see the relationship as more important than her anti-marriage attitude—or than her career.
Think Sandra Bullock in The Proposal.
In a women’s fiction book, a character hiding a secret past may find healing only when she realizes not revealing the secret will result in greater pain for herself or others.
I used this catalyst in my book For Such a Moment, based on the biblical story of Esther. Just as Esther did, my heroine confesses her secret in order to save others from death. A similar example is seen in Casablanca when Rick finally realizes doing the right thing is more important than his own survival.
Review your current work-in-progress and ask yourself (or your critique partners) this question:
Is the catalyst for change stronger than my character’s status quo belief about her/himself or about the situation?
Find that catalyst and you’ll be on the way to creating believable characters and plots.
Can you think of fictional examples (both good and bad) that illustrate this principle? Please share so we can learn from each other (but for bad examples, let’s keep the details vague since we don’t want to insult other authors!).
In a women’s fiction book, a character hiding a secret past may find healing only when she realizes not revealing the secret will result in greater pain for herself or others. #amwriting #seriouslywrite #characterchange @mwcoutu @MaryAFelkins
Marie Wells Coutu finds beauty in surprising places, like old houses, gnarly trees, and forgotten treasures. When she’s not writing about finding restoration and healing through God-designed journeys, she enjoys taking broken things and making them useful.
She is currently working on historical romance novels set in the 1930s. One manuscript won the 2019 Touched by Love Contest and the 2019 Sheila Contest, and a second novel also won in the Sheila Contest.
Her published novels are women’s contemporary fiction. Her debut novel, For Such a Moment, won the Books of Hope Contest. The Secret Heart, her newest release, and Thirsting for More, the second book in the series, were finalists in several contests.
You can find more about Marie and her novels on her Facebook author page and her website, MarieWellsCoutu.com,
Follow her on Twitter @mwcoutu or on Amazon.
