himself as a fundamental loser. Is he? Maybe that's what your novel is about.
On the other hand, a string of jobs is normal for a twenty-year-old still searching for his place in the world. Before he becomes a doctor, W. Somerset Maugham's Philip Carey (Of Human Bondage) tries out accountant, artist and floorwalker. He is confused about himself, his talents and his desires, and his confusion is beautifully dramatized by his wildly disparate jobs.
GIVE HIM A JOB THAT TELLS US ABOUT HIS IMAGE OF THE WORLD
This may come less from his choice of job than from his attitude toward its permutations. He's a cop: Is he the type who prefers to work with troubled kids or the type who prefers to break down doors and get rough with perps? She's a fashion designer: Does she fawn on rich customers, or enjoy adapting pretty clothes for the average female figure? He's an accountant—does he genuinely enjoy the work, or did he choose it because it's a secure job, with regular hours and no physical danger, in a frightening world? Show us.
GIVE HIM A JOB THAT LETS US ASSESS HIS TALENTS
This comes partly from how well he succeeds at different aspects of his profession. Is he organized? Clumsy? Hopeless with people? Persuasive? Punctual? Patient? Persistent? Show us, through how he handles work duties.
GIVE HIM A JOB THAT FITS THE NOVEL'S SOCIAL CIRCUMSTANCES
I recall a recent, let-it-be-nameless romance in which a woman was supposedly paying the rent on a New York penthouse apartment and supporting two kids on her salary as an art-gallery assistant. She also dressed superbly and sent a lot of roses. People familiar with art-gallery salaries and New York prices howled with derisive laughter. If you need your character to have lots of money and he hasn't inherited it, stolen it or married it, give him a job where he can earn it.
The same goes for more intangible acquisitions. If your character has impressive political connections, either have her born into a political family (a la the Kennedys) or employ her in a place where logically she would meet a lot of high-ranking politicians. If your plot requires that she know a lot about the workings of the FBI, and you don't want her to work for the Bureau itself, then she might be a journalist on the Washington beat, or a cop who regularly attends law-enforcement programs at the FBI training center in Virginia, or a caterer with a contract at the Hoover building. Be inventive.
GIVE HIM A JOB THAT YOU CAN WRITE ABOUT IN CREDIBLE DETAIL
As in all aspects of writing, the details make the difference. Your character is going to spend eight hours a day at this job—a third of his life. It's very real to him. Therefore, you must make it real to us. You can't do that if you don't know anything about it. Personnel manager may be no more than a vague label to you—but to a person who is one, it's a very specific set of tasks, headaches, triumphs, hurdles and goals. We need to share them. Not all of them, and not necessarily in exhaustive depth, but convincingly enough that we will believe this character really invests time and energy in what you say he does.
For instance, the reviews of Judy Blume's adult novel Smart Women almost universally pointed out that the teenage characters were much more successful than the adults. Blume, of course, has much more experience with creating youthful characters; she is one of the best-selling writers of young adult fiction in America. Nonetheless, I think the lack of realism in Smart Women 's mature protagonist related directly to that protagonist's job.
Margo Sampson is supposed to be an architect with a small Colorado firm, a position that demands a great deal of creative effort. Yet Margo is never shown thinking about her designs, sacrificing personal time to solve technical problems, handling job details, meeting with clients or encountering the frustrations inevitable to building anything. She has none of the professional highs, lows or absorption detailed
On the other hand, a string of jobs is normal for a twenty-year-old still searching for his place in the world. Before he becomes a doctor, W. Somerset Maugham's Philip Carey (Of Human Bondage) tries out accountant, artist and floorwalker. He is confused about himself, his talents and his desires, and his confusion is beautifully dramatized by his wildly disparate jobs.
GIVE HIM A JOB THAT TELLS US ABOUT HIS IMAGE OF THE WORLD
This may come less from his choice of job than from his attitude toward its permutations. He's a cop: Is he the type who prefers to work with troubled kids or the type who prefers to break down doors and get rough with perps? She's a fashion designer: Does she fawn on rich customers, or enjoy adapting pretty clothes for the average female figure? He's an accountant—does he genuinely enjoy the work, or did he choose it because it's a secure job, with regular hours and no physical danger, in a frightening world? Show us.
GIVE HIM A JOB THAT LETS US ASSESS HIS TALENTS
This comes partly from how well he succeeds at different aspects of his profession. Is he organized? Clumsy? Hopeless with people? Persuasive? Punctual? Patient? Persistent? Show us, through how he handles work duties.
GIVE HIM A JOB THAT FITS THE NOVEL'S SOCIAL CIRCUMSTANCES
I recall a recent, let-it-be-nameless romance in which a woman was supposedly paying the rent on a New York penthouse apartment and supporting two kids on her salary as an art-gallery assistant. She also dressed superbly and sent a lot of roses. People familiar with art-gallery salaries and New York prices howled with derisive laughter. If you need your character to have lots of money and he hasn't inherited it, stolen it or married it, give him a job where he can earn it.
The same goes for more intangible acquisitions. If your character has impressive political connections, either have her born into a political family (a la the Kennedys) or employ her in a place where logically she would meet a lot of high-ranking politicians. If your plot requires that she know a lot about the workings of the FBI, and you don't want her to work for the Bureau itself, then she might be a journalist on the Washington beat, or a cop who regularly attends law-enforcement programs at the FBI training center in Virginia, or a caterer with a contract at the Hoover building. Be inventive.
GIVE HIM A JOB THAT YOU CAN WRITE ABOUT IN CREDIBLE DETAIL
As in all aspects of writing, the details make the difference. Your character is going to spend eight hours a day at this job—a third of his life. It's very real to him. Therefore, you must make it real to us. You can't do that if you don't know anything about it. Personnel manager may be no more than a vague label to you—but to a person who is one, it's a very specific set of tasks, headaches, triumphs, hurdles and goals. We need to share them. Not all of them, and not necessarily in exhaustive depth, but convincingly enough that we will believe this character really invests time and energy in what you say he does.
For instance, the reviews of Judy Blume's adult novel Smart Women almost universally pointed out that the teenage characters were much more successful than the adults. Blume, of course, has much more experience with creating youthful characters; she is one of the best-selling writers of young adult fiction in America. Nonetheless, I think the lack of realism in Smart Women 's mature protagonist related directly to that protagonist's job.
Margo Sampson is supposed to be an architect with a small Colorado firm, a position that demands a great deal of creative effort. Yet Margo is never shown thinking about her designs, sacrificing personal time to solve technical problems, handling job details, meeting with clients or encountering the frustrations inevitable to building anything. She has none of the professional highs, lows or absorption detailed
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