2/ The said and unsaid. In the therapy room there is as much focus on what’s left unsaid, or avoided, as well as what’s said. A useful metaphor is the iceberg, where we can see a whole chunk of ice that is shown above the surface, there’s a much larger chunk that remains hidden and submerged underneath. This may be deliberately concealed to others, but also to themselves, and a window into the realm of the unconscious. So, when considering your characters, think about what they might want people to know about, and the things they don’t; things they might feel ashamed or embarrassed about, or the things they may not even be aware of. These hidden depths are the things that make characters complex, interesting and alive.
3/ Anger and conflict and frustration. People don’t come to therapy when life is going well. Therapists see clients at their worst; sad, confused, angry or in distress. And in fiction, as in life, we are generally not captivated by characters’ lives that are happy and perfect. There is no drama here. It’s often how someone behaves in times of difficulty or stress that is the most interesting. How does a character express anger and irritation? Is it outward? Or does it become internalized and fester inside? Try to dig deep and find their dark side, the hidden underbelly of their inner lives.
4/ The past unfolding in the present. A lot of therapy is about understanding the present (ie the presenting problem) with a forensic consideration and understanding of the past. Freud talked about the therapy process as a kind of archeology. The notion of digging and excavation to uncover the ‘truth’ as experienced by the client. In fiction, this relates to the notion of backstory. The past of a central character needs to be very clear to the writer – and while not all of this will end up on the page, there needs to be just enough in evidence, so the way a character behaves on the page will make perfect sense, without being too predictable. Actions that come ‘out of the blue,’ can leave the reader frustrated and unsatisfied – and will somehow break the spell of ‘trust’ that have been set up between reader and writer.
5/ Change is not linear. In therapy, a person is on a journey of discovery and change. But the process isn’t a series of lightbulb moments that translate easily into change and decision. In life, the progress of change can be frustrating, and full of faltering steps, we often rail against emotional truths we have learnt, and can be held back by resistance and denial. And we may go onto repeat the same mistakes again and again…until we learn to stop. In therapy, when the change is overnight, or too quick, a therapist might be left with doubts. Perhaps they are doing it to please me? Or perhaps they are saying it because they want to feel different, want the quick-fix without the hard work or recovery? This can be equally applicable to fiction. Big psychological and emotional shifts in characters cannot happen overnight. If too hurried, or too determined by the needs of the plot, the reader can feel duped, and may lose belief and empathy with a character.
By considering these five areas, it is possible to create characters that have depth and complexity, and a capacity to grip and surprise your readers. Characters that will not only keep the pages turning, but will hopefully linger on in the memory of the reader, long after the book is finished.
Bev Thomas is a clinical psychologist, and draws on her wealth of knowledge about therapy and mental health to craft A Good Enough Mother, a captivating suspense novel about a therapist-patient relationship gone wrong.
