Every character has to have quirks. Quirks add character. I have had several blond moments in my life, from thinking panhandling was a regional thing (which, to me, is doubly funny, considering I live in the Florida Panhandle) to thinking rabbits laid eggs (confusing it with the Easter bunny).
Since I just read lists of odd numbers are funnier, I will post a few [quirks] of mine:
- The lines in the screws in the switchplates in my house have to be slanted the same way.
- If the ice in my glass came from an ice tray that wasn’t covered, I have to rinse the ice first, or “pre-crack” it. (However, I don’t use ice at home anymore except to freeze coffee to make frappuccinos.)
- I am convinced that crushed ice because of its rough edges keeps soda fizzier longer and that the smooth edges of “home ice” make it go flatter quicker.
Whether or not I fall in love with the characters determines whether I will keep a book or give it away. That is why I have kept my Linda Hall books (whose characters are offbeat and complex) and not Mary Higgins Clark’s (whose protagonists are often bland).
All of my protagonists are different incarnations of me, even though all my “heroines” (as they refer to them in the romance world) are very different people. I am a puzzle, of which there are many pieces. Everyone has layers, and to keep characters interesting, we have to create characters as much, so they become real people in our minds. There is a fine line between adding a layer to a character and having them act “out of character,” which makes one no longer seem real.
A great author knows how to strike that perfect balance. I once forced a character in a book to act out of character to satisfy a plot point I wanted to use. When my mom read the book, it was the only thing she said was off about it; I agreed and changed it.
Character trumps plot. Every time.