Have you ever had a movie that you’ve been meaning to watch for years and never got around to it? But people kept telling you over and over again that you NEED to see this movie? For me, that movie was the 2006 drama-comedy Stranger than Fiction.
I’m thrilled to say that I finally watched it, and all the recommendations were right. I loved it! Frankly I was shocked that Will Ferrell actually has the acting chops to carry such a serious and likeable roll like Harold Crick. And opposite the absolutely radiant Emma Thompson, no less, who I like in every movie. Add in the fascinating premise that this movie is about a man who can hear an author’s narrations in his head and is desperately trying to escape the inevitable death she has in store for him. Ten minutes in, I was hooked.
But this isn’t a review of Stranger than Fiction. As someone who took 19 years to see it, I have compassion for those of you who still haven’t. I swear I will not spoil it for you! But watching that movie got me thinking about a grim topic that writers often consider: killing characters.
Authors Sometimes Murder People . . .
I mean that strictly in the pages of our novels, mind you. Although a story about a writer who moonlights as a serial killer sounds like a fabulous read . . . Regardless, writers give birth to great characters in our stories. And sometimes those same characters get killed off by the same writers who created them. I don’t judge the non-writers who find this whole concept sort of sick. Especially when readers who’ve gotten attached to beloved characters have to experience the gut punch of their favorite character’s death.
But trust me, as hard as it might be for readers to lose a character, killing off that character is 100x worse for the writer. Maybe not for super clinically minded authors who write only for the world building. I personally have no idea how this brand of writer functions since it’s so far from my own process. But people who don’t write really have no idea how hard killing characters can be. And why writers still do it.
Sometimes Killing Characters Just HAS to Be Done
Characters die for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes they die willingly to sacrifice themselves for their friends or their family. They know the risks, and they take the hit because that’s just who they are. Other times, characters don’t get any choice in their death, but they still have to die because it only makes sense. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and letting them off the hook would ruin the authenticity of the whole book. Saving them would feel like handwavium, deus ex machina nonsense. Most writers avoid that stuff like the plague unless they’re writing a very particular type of book.
Other times, characters die to raise the stakes of a storyline. Their loss is what spurs on the survivors to rally and save the world, defeat the villain, make it back home, find a cure, or whatever their main objective might be. Sometimes killing characters is how the plot thickens into something heavier and more real than your reader expected.
A Truly Avoidable Death Hurts the Worst
Writers don’t always kill a character out of necessity. Some character deaths are designed just to make readers lose their minds because the tragedy could have easily been avoided. Personally, I think writers need to be careful about killing characters this way. Getting your book thrown across the room isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes readers can’t take the disappointment and stop reading. Or worse, tell their friends never to go near your book at all.
Then again, I have great respect for storytellers who aren’t afraid to—um—pull the trigger, so to speak. Killing characters takes guts. It’s meant to be permanent, and that permanence is meant to have weight, no matter what kind of story you’re telling.
A show my husband and I are watching (I don’t dare tell you which one) just recently axed a beloved character whose loss was brutal in context. It was one of those totally-could’ve-avoided-this-if-we’d-wanted-to kind of deaths. But the death led to such relevant development for other characters that it was definitely a strong choice for the sake of the story. I couldn’t help but respect the heck out of those writers who did the bloody deed.
It Isn’t Easy Killing Characters
I admit that being a writer can be a power trip sometimes, getting to control an entire universe of characters and events that you invented in your head. And yet, I believe that the absolute best writers don’t make decisions just because they can. They do what the plot requires and keep their characters in character at all costs. Even when they do something truly grotesque that we’d rather not write at all.
Killing a character who deserves death can be satisfying, yes. But killing characters who are innocent, doing their best, or even actively helping other people? That stings. It really does. Some readers might be asking why we do it at all if we don’t actually enjoy killing characters off.
The Simple Answer: We Are Storytellers First
Every decision we make must serve the plot. Otherwise our stories wouldn’t be any good. And what’s the point of writing anything if it doesn’t at least have impact? On both the person writing it and the people reading it. So yes, killing characters is a blow. We don’t do it lightly, nor do we gain pleasure in pointless suffering.
Then again, I can’t speak for all writers, only the ones I’ve discussed this topic with. I’m sure there are total psychopaths out there who kill characters left and right and feel absolutely nothing while doing it. But I have a hard time believing that such a writer would be any good at writing if they can’t empathize with fellow human beings.
My point is that the vast majority of writers hate killing off characters way more than you hate reading about them dying. We’re just dedicated to making our stories great. Even if it means going through the pain of sacrifices, it’s worth it if the sacrifice means something. That makes all the emotions worth it . . . Or maybe we’re all a little bit psychopathic to kill even fictional people. The jury is still out on that one.
