While southbound for home at the end of our vacation this last August, we passed through Butte, Montana, the city in which I was born and from where have come some strange and cool characters. Has anyone heard of Evel Knievel or Martha Raye? As I stood at the historic marker and snapped the photographs that created the image above, I thought about the scenes from my novel, Elkhorn Mountain Menace (Angels in the Mist), which took place along several of Butte’s city streets and local businesses. When I first began writing the story of terrorism in Montana, I had no intention of carrying the plot from Helena over to Butte, but there it was. Trevor was chasing after the terrorists who were chasing after Natasha, none of whom registered the view pictured above as they rocketed into Butte, descending from Elk Park into the old city. It wasn’t I who sent them along that route. It was Natasha who decided that she needed to get away after discovering that her home had been invaded by strange men speaking an Arabic-like language. I recall being rather surprised at the turn of events.
But really, should there have been any surprises at all?
The people Natasha ran to Butte to see, who she was sure would provide her safe haven, were her cousin and his wife. I knew this would be the case because my cousin and her husband, a couple of very cool characters, live in Butte, coincidentally on a street very near Natasha’s cousin. Is this really a coincident? Of course not. I have great respect for my family in Butte and know, without a doubt, that if they were placed in the same situation as Natasha’s cousins, they would act in the exact same way. I knew my readers would love them so I designed the characters in Elkhorn Mountain Menace after them.
That ponders a question I’ve sometimes received at book signings.
Who do we, novelists, use for character inspirations? I like to say that the cool characters we love, and for whom we cheer, come from friends and family around us and people we respect. Certainly Uncle Joe won’t necessarily see an exact copy of himself in my hero, but he might see his laughing blue eyes. Aunt Myrtle might discover I’ve used her habit of tugging on her ear when she tells a white lie. Cousin Rebecca might notice her talent at number puzzles. Those other not so cool characters, those dastardly devils who cause our protagonists untold grief, certainly come from somewhere else, like the next door neighbor who lets his dog bark all night and who parks his rusting ‘64 VW on blocks in his front yard.
Oh, wait a minute. That is Uncle Joe. Maybe he won’t notice.
In summary, our cool characters are built from people around us. They are those we know and those we observe in our daily lives or on the screen, real and fiction; bits and pieces of them all. Sometimes we get Clark Gable. Sometimes we get Frankenstein’s monster. Sometimes we might even get Aunt Myrtle without realizing it. When we do realize we’ve used Aunt Myrtle, we need to be sure to mention her in the acknowledgements, along with Uncle Joe’s blue eyes.
From where do your cool characters come?
Family? Friends? Sitcoms? Saturday night down at the corner bar? The guys at the carwash? Everyone would love to know.
