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Jane Austen Writing Lessons. #19: Make Your Characters Sympathetic

#19: Make Your Characters Sympathetic

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Jane Austen Writing Lessons. #19: Make Your Characters Sympathetic

In a letter to her niece Fanny Knight in March 1817, Jane Austen mentioned that she had a new novel, nearing readiness for publication: “You will not like it, so you need not be impatient. You may perhaps like the Heroine, as she is almost too good for me.”

Jane Austen died a few months after her letter, but her family had the novel published posthumously. That novel is Persuasion, and its heroine, Anne Elliot, is—despite Austen’s self-deprecating comments—a true gift to readers.

Anne Elliot is a prime example of a sympathetic character. She broke off an engagement with Captain Wentworth ten years before the start of the novel, and now he is back in her life. She wonders—and we wonder, with just as much desperation and longing—if she will have a second chance with him.

A sympathetic character is a character who we feel compassion for and connection to. It is a character that we find likeable.

The Oxford English Dictionary (also known as the OED) is over 21,000 pages long and is probably the most massive English dictionary in the world. It is also my favorite dictionary (yes, I have a favorite dictionary). Note: I don’t own a physical copy—that would be insane, but it is online and accessible through many library subscriptions!

Image of the Compact OED

Image of the Compact OED from Aalfons. The normal version is almost two dozen huge books.

The OED goes into great depth in defining the word sympathy. We’ll look at some of the OED’s definitions of sympathy, and then use examples from Persuasion to examine how to use these definitions to create sympathetic characters.

Sympathy: "A (real or supposed) affinity between certain things, by virtue of which they are similarly or correspondingly affected by the same influence, affect or influence one another…or attract or tend towards each other." -Oxford English Dictionary

The OED cites an example from 1601 which talks about the sympathy between iron and loadstone—in other words, sympathy is like a magnet and a paperclip: there is some inherent similar quality which creates an attraction between them.

One of the main reasons we turn to literature is because stories create feelings of sympathy. We see ourselves in literature. Stories changes us. We become part of the experience in the text, and the text becomes part of our own experience.

In the latter half of Persuasion, Anne is living in Bath with her father and sister. She attends a concert with them, and Captain Wentworth is present. Anne and Wentworth have a nice conversation before the concert, but during the concert Anne is seated next to another man who is interested in her, Mr. Elliot. We see ourselves in Anne as, during the concert, she tries to catch Wentworth’s eye, but is unable to. We feel Anne’s frustrations with Mr. Elliot and his flirtation; like her, we cannot truly be interested in him. We are one with Anne and agree with her motives and her actions when she manages to change seats partway through the concert so she is at the edge of a row and has the hope of talking to Wentworth.

Captain Wentworth leaves before the concert is over:

He must wish her good night. He was going—he should get home as fast as he could.

“Is not this song worth staying for?” said Anne, suddenly struck by an idea which made her yet more anxious to be encouraging.

“No!” he replied impressively, “there is nothing worth my staying for;” and he was gone directly.

Jealousy of Mr. Elliot! It was the only intelligible motive. Captain Wentworth jealous of her affection! Could she have believed it a week ago—three hours ago! For a moment the gratification was exquisite. But alas! There were very different thoughts to succeed. How was such jealousy to be quieted? How was the truth to reach him? How, in all the peculiar disadvantages of their respective situations, would he ever learn her real sentiments? It was misery to think of Mr. Elliot’s attentions. – Their evil was incalculable.

Anne is an especially sympathetic character in this scene.

A character is sympathetic when we as readers can:

  1. Understand the character’s perspective
    • This scene is in Anne’s point of view, and with Austen’s presentation, it is easy to understand Anne’s perspective on the situation, her history with Wentworth, and her desires. We are aided by internal thought as the narration slips into Anne’s mind and thoughts.
    • This scene also helps us understand Wentworth’s perspective. He is not the point of view character, but his perspective is revealed through his dialogue and behavior, and we can understand him as a person and feel a shared humanity with him.

AND/OR

  1. Relate to the character’s motives and actions
    • In this scene, we can relate to Anne’s motives, particularly her desire to fix things between her and Wentworth.
    • Her actions are also actions that we feel like we would take if we were in the same situation.

Note that there are plenty of times when we might not relate to the character’s motives and actions—personally, I do not relate to Anne’s actions as much during the first half of the novel, when Anne avoids attempting to have an in-depth conversation with Captain Wentworth. But even if I don’t agree with her actions (or in other cases, her motives) I can understand why she’s making her choices, so I can still maintain a level of sympathy for her.

Additional techniques for creating sympathetic characters

Now we’re going to look at three more definitions of sympathy from the OED, which will help us understand additional techniques and approaches which can be used to create sympathetic characters.

Sympathy: "A favourable attitude of mind towards a party, cause, etc.; disposition to agree or approve." -Oxford English Dictionary

In the screenwriting book Save the Cat, Blake Snyder talks about the need for the audience to feel sympathy for the main character early on. He calls this the “save the cat” moment; in some films, the main character will literally save a cat, and this will instantly endear them to us. Basically, we feel favorably when people take actions that we can agree or approve of, and in general, as people, we approve of acts of kindness, we approve of someone doing something good or self-sacrificing. We like kind people.

Near the beginning of Persuasion, Anne has a strong “save the cat” moment. Anne’s nephew is ill, and this will prevent her sister from going to eat dinner at another family’s house. Anne’s sister very vocally and desperately expresses her desire to attend the dinner—she suffers from what today we like to call FOMO, fear of missing out. Anne has even better desires than her sister for attending the dinner—Captain Wentworth will be there, and Anne has not seen him in the ten years since she broke off their engagement.

Anne makes the decision to take care of her nephew so that her sister and brother-in-law can go to the dinner:

She knew herself to be of the first utility to the child; and what was it to her, if Frederick Wentworth were only half a mile distant, making himself agreeable to others!

Having a save the cat moment can help us sympathize with not just with a main character, but with any character. If, for example, you want us to have sympathy and understanding for an antagonist’s motives (which can be a powerful tool to make them a rounded, full character), have them do something good or kind for another character.

Sympathy: "The quality or state of being thus affected by the suffering or sorrow of another; a feeling of compassion or commiseration." -Oxford English Dictionary

I talked about this in the post on passive characters—we sympathize with Fanny Price in Mansfield Park because of the poor way others treat her. We sympathize with suffering (though if there is too much suffering or a character feels pitiable, sometimes we find it too hard or uncomfortable to sympathize).

We also like to root for underdogs, for people who have to prove themselves. Anne Elliot is undervalued by her father and sisters; in the opening scenes of the novel, they dismiss her ideas and advice. We also see Anne suffering when Wentworth pursues another woman, and we feel for Anne in these moments.

Sympathy: "Conformity of feelings, inclinations, or temperament." -Oxford English Dictionary

Conformity is about norms, and we sympathize with characters within certain norms. We sympathize with characters that meet our expectations of behavior and temperament. In literature, characters are often better than ourselves: they are a little more consistent, a little more understandable. They can be better examples of certain virtues or ideologies.

Yet if characters are too good or too perfect or too smart or too capable, we stop sympathizing with them. Just as in real life, we often don’t like people who seem too perfect; we feel more distance between us and characters that seem so much greater or better than us, because they are not like us.

Sympathetic characters must be like us: they must have weaknesses. They must try and they must fail, repeatedly, because it is trying and failing and trying again that makes us human.

Anne’s weaknesses are plenty: she is at times too easily persuadable. She veils her emotions. She does not stand up for herself. And because of this, she feels real and we sympathize with her struggles and failures and attempts to achieve her goals.

The Spectrum Between Sympathetic and Unsympathetic Characters

Like with active and passive characters, there is a spectrum between sympathetic and unsympathetic characters, and characters typically move up and down this spectrum over the course of a story. At times characters—even make characters—are predominantly unsympathetic. Next week I’ll focus on effectively using unsympathetic characters.

Whether your character is mostly sympathetic or only occasionally sympathetic, it helps the reader connect to the story. We like spending time with people we like, with people we have sympathy for. We root for them. And we are excited to travel with them on their journeys.

Writing Exercises - Jane Austen Writing Lessons

Exercise 1: There is a great Writing Excuses podcast episode on sympathetic characters (which I encourage you to listen to!). In addition to some of the points covered in this writing lesson, they address several other techniques that can help create sympathy for characters:

  • Character self-awareness
  • Humor
  • Vulnerability and openness

Take a character from a book or film that you find sympathetic, and examine what specifically makes them sympathetic, whether it’s the point of view, suffering, backstory, imperfections, relatable motives, humor, or other principles entirely.

Exercise 2: Write a brief scene of a character doing something that we generally find unsympathetic (i.e. taking a toy from a young child, ripping up a student’s paper, etc.). Write this scene in a way that will make a reader feel sympathy for this character.

Exercise 3: Take one of your characters that is generally sympathetic and write a brief scene that makes them less sympathetic. Then, take one of your characters that is generally unsympathetic and write a brief scene that makes the more sympathetic. What did this achieve? What would the impact of this scene be on an audience? Does this scene teach you anything about your own characters?

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Jane Austen Writing Lessons. #17: Make Your Characters Active

#17: Make Your Characters Active

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Jane Austen Writing Lessons. #17: Make Your Characters Active

In 2012 I created a daily video blog, where every single day I posted a five to thirty second video of something interesting. As I worked on this project, I discovered that only certain categories of things would work for the project:

  1. A still shot (the camera not moving) with something moving inside the frame
  2. A moving shot (the camera moving) with something moving inside the frame
  3. A moving shot (the camera moving) with still objects

The only other option—a still shot with nothing moving—was not actually an option. Because that would be a photograph, not a video.

I quickly discovered that the best videos fit in categories 1 or 2. If something was moving in the frame, it attracted interested, regardless of what I did with the camera. (As a side note, my main claim to internet fame is that Day 119 of my blog—which features a DVD screensaver hitting the corner of the TV screen—has been viewed over 50,000 times.)

TV Screensaver Hitting the Corner of the TV

Our eyes are drawn immediately to things in motion. Our eyes, and often our hearts. This is the power of using active characters.

Readers are drawn to active characters. Active characters are doing. Outside things may happen to them, but they are not just observers or reactors. They do not let themselves be pushed around or be determined by others. They go, they do, they strive.

Making your protagonist an active character creates a powerful story. This propels them on an external journey, through the plot, with all its outward struggle and growth. It also propels them through an internal journey, facilitating character development, with its inner struggle and growth.

Both of the female leads in Sense and Sensibility—the two oldest Dashwood sisters—are active characters. The eldest sister, Elinor, is active—she steers her mother away from renting too expensive of a house, and she does much to ease the pain of others and make their cottage a home. The middle sister, Marianne, is active in a different direction.

Marianne refuses to let others play matchmaker with her future and is guided by her own opinions and philosophies. (Unlike Elinor, she is unafraid of offending others, and not held back by a strong sense of decorum.) She is energetic, and attempts to find and make beauty in the world.

Their cottage is in a beautiful countryside, and on a somewhat blustery day, Marianne encourages her younger sister Margaret to walk with her:

They gaily ascended the downs, rejoicing in their own penetration at every glimpse of blue sky; and when they caught in their faces the animating gales of a high south-westerly wind, they pitied the fears which had prevented their mother and Elinor from sharing such delightful sensations.

“Is there a felicity in the world,” said Marianne, “superior to this?—Margaret, we will walk here at least two hours.”

Their walk, however, is cut short by the driving rain. Marianne is an active character, in charge of her own destiny, but even she cannot prevent the weather. Yet even in reacting to the weather, she resists passivity:

Chagrined and surprised, they were obliged, though unwillingly, to turn back, for no shelter was nearer than their own house. One consolation however remained for them, to which the exigence of the moment gave more than usual propriety; it was that of running with all possible speed down the steep side of the hill which led immediately to their garden gate.

Marianne is delightful because of her energy, her joyous outlook on life, and her refusal to do things in a simple, boring way.

As a result of her action, she hurts her ankle on the hill, and is rescued by a charming gentleman, Mr. Willoughby, who carries her home.

Over the coming chapters, Marianne becomes quite attached to Willoughby. This worries Elinor, who actively encourages Marianne to be more careful with her affections, particularly with how they might be interpreted by others outside of their family. Marianne actively resists Elinor’s advice, and responds:

“You are mistaken, Elinor,” said she warmly, “in supposing I know very little of Willoughby. I have not known him long indeed, but I am much better acquainted with him, than I am with any other creature in the world, except yourself and mama. It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;—it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others. I should hold myself guilty of greater impropriety in accepting a horse from my brother, than from Willoughby. Of John I know very little, though we have lived together for years; but of Willoughby my judgment has long been formed.”

What are the marks of an active character?

An active character:

  • Reaches for their goals or wants

  • Engages in purposeful dialogue that attempts to have impact, persuade, or create change

  • Takes actions—large or small—with purpose

  • When reacting to outside events, asserts themselves and does things their own way

An active character can be bold or shy, outspoken or quiet, and their actions can be grand or minute. But something internal propels them forward.

Yet no character is fully active, and as writers, we shouldn’t consider it a dichotomous choice between active and passive characters. No character is active all of the time—nor should they be. This movement along the spectrum of active and passive can be powerful.

Later on in Sense and Sensibility, Marianne falls into a deep depression, and becomes a largely inactive character. Her moments of activity—like taking a walk in bad weather—do her more harm than good. She becomes ill, which forces further inactivity upon her: at this point it is the doctor’s treatment and fate which determine her future.

Yet the fact that Marianne is generally an active character both creates audience investment in her and helps drive the story forward. Then, in these moments of passivity, we still root for her.

Writing Exercises - Jane Austen Writing Lessons

Exercise 1: The following passage focuses on a passive character:

“You want vanilla?” asked George.

Rudy nodded at her brother. “Sure.” Vanilla was as good as any other flavor.

George ordered and paid. “My treat,” he said. “It’s been way too long.”

“Thanks,” said Rudy.

The server gave them their ice cream and they sat down to a table.

“How’s work going?” asked Rudy.

He told stories about his adventures as a plumber, and some of the crazy things he learned about people’s personal lives.

“How’s work going for you?” asked George.

“Same as always,” said Rudy.

George’s phone rang. He looked at the screen. “Mind if I take this?”

“Not at all.”

He stepped out of the ice cream shop.

Rudy looked around the restaurant at the happy families, happy couples. There was only one person sitting alone, a man about her age. He made eye contact, and she looked down, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

Rewrite the passage to make Rudy a more active character. You could make her more active throughout, or in just one section of the scene. Also, feel free to take the scene in a different direction.

Exercise 2: Read a book or watch a film and analyze the text for active and passive characters. Who is passive? Who is active? Are there moments when characters become more passive or more active, and what is the result? As you analyze, pay particular attention to the protagonist.

Exercise 3: If you’ve drafted a novel or as short story, analyze each scene/chapter for where your main character falls on the spectrum from active to passive. Assign each scene a number from 1 to 10 on a passive to active scale. For the purposes of this exercise, use 10 to mean a character is extremely active, a 7 or 8 for active, a 5 or 6 for scenes with both active and passive elements, a 3 for passive, and a 1 for extremely passive.

Character Scale: Passive to Active Characters (Jane Austen Writing Lessons)

What sort of arc or movement is created by the main character’s movement along the passive-active spectrum? Are there scenes where your character should be more active? Where your character should be more passive? Where your character should be wrestling with both active and passive tendencies in themselves?

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#1: Make Your Character Want Something

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The key components of story: plot character

At the heart of any story are two fundamental components: character and plot. There is a lot of debate about whether character or plot is more important, and both need to be addressed at every stage of the writing process. Yet there is an underlying principle that distills both character and plot.

Your main character needs to want something.

In Jane Austen’s novel Emma, the main character, Emma Woodhouse, wants to bring others happiness (and herself entertainment) by playing matchmaker. At the beginning of the book she sets herself on this path while speaking of her success in matching her dear friend and governess, Miss Taylor, to Mr. Weston:

“I made the match myself. I made the match, you know, four years ago; and to have it take place, and be proved in the right, when so many people said Mr. Weston would never marry again, may comfort me for any thing.”

Mr. Knightley shook his head at her. Her father fondly replied, “Ah! my dear, I wish you would not make matches and foretell things, for whatever you say always comes to pass. Pray do not make any more matches.”

“I promise you to make none for myself, papa; but I must, indeed, for other people. It is the greatest amusement in the world! And after such success you know!”

Make Your Character Want Something

Illustration by C.E. Brock, from a 1909 edition of Emma

The wants of a character reveal their internal character and personality.

Emma believes she can be a matchmaker because she believes she understands people better than they understand themselves. Not only does she find herself superior to others, but she is used to getting what she wants.

The wants of a character create plot.

Emma’s desire to make matches leads to most of the action (and comedy) of the novel, such as her prolonged attempt to set her friend Harriet Smith up with the vicar, Mr. Elton.

Whether you’re brainstorming or revising a story, make sure your main character wants something, and that this want is manifest throughout the narrative.

How do you show character wants and motivations?

One of the most powerful ways to show what a character wants is through their dialogue, as seen in the example from Emma. Dialogue is not just about communication: it is a tool we use to assert our identities in the world, to create change, and to influence other characters.

What a character wants should also be shown through action. Emma arranges endless opportunities for Harriet and Mr. Elton to spend time together. At one point she is on a walk with them and she intentionally breaks her shoelace so she can fall behind, giving them the opportunity to be alone.

A further method that can be used to show character wants and motivation is through description. Emma notices every time Mr. Elton looks in Harriet’s direction, and the description reflects her motivation and hopes.

Writing Exercises - Jane Austen Writing Lessons

Exercise 1: Think of one of your favorite books or movies. What does the main character really want? Share your response in the comments.

Exercise 2: Whether you’re writing a novel, a short story, or a picture book, your main character should want something. Write a manifesto from their point of view about what they want, why they want it, and what they are willing to do to get it. This could be a single paragraph or a full page.

Exercise 3: Rewrite the following short scene about a woman named Mariah. The catch: you must add a strong character want. This could be any want, in any genre. For example:

  • To be a matchmaker
  • To find a valuable clue that will help her stop an assassin
  • To be on time to something in her life, for once

Whether you choose one of these sample wants or your own, the character’s want should have an impact on the dialogue, the action, and the description.

Mariah walked up to the ticket counter. “One ticket for Ocean’s 8. The 7:00.”

The man at the counter nodded, not even looking up at her. As he made the selections on his computer, her eyes fell on his name tag. “Markus.” Her eyes moved back up to his face, and this time, she looked past the glasses and the beard. It really was Markus. She hadn’t seen him in years, not since high school graduation.

“Markus Santos?”

At this, he looked up from the screen. It took a moment, but realization dawned on his face. “Mariah. How are you?”

“Pretty good. How about you?”

“Great,” he said, but not very convincingly. “That’ll be $10.25.”

She inserted her credit card.

“Are you seeing this by yourself?” he asked.

“No, I’m meeting friends. They already have their tickets.”

She removed her credit card and he handed her the ticket.

“Have a nice night,” he said with a nod. There was no trace of the smiles he used to give to everyone.

“You too,” she said. She entered the theater.

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