how to write characters

When I emerged from the diminutive mosque in a remote African village, I had a burning question. It came to mind while sitting reverently during prayers which the Imam had graciously invited us to observe.

I was a writer and photographer in Sierra Leone with two senior missionaries and a two-person video crew for LDS Charities filming a documentary on clean water projects (see more).

The village was home to a thousand people: half Christian, half Muslim. After thanking the Imam for his invitation, I asked him, “How do you get along with the Christians?”

Asking the right questions

The puzzled look on his face mirrored his reply: “What do you mean?”

Stammering, I said, “Well, half of the village is Christian, the other half is Muslim. How do you get along?”

When he gave the same response again, I wondered how much English the Imam understood. Then I realized his point-of-view on world issues was vastly different than mine. The village had no electricity, no running water, no televisions, scant public transportation (unless you call the back of a motorbike or the top of a cargo truck public transportation), few cell phones, and no world news.

To provide perspective, I mentioned that throughout history Muslims and Christians had battled each other. Then I repeated my original question.

We work in the fields side by side just to survive. What is there to fight about?

The Imam answered, “You don’t understand.” Then he gave me perspective. “The Christians helped us build our mosque. We helped them build their houses. We work in the fields side by side just to survive. What is there to fight about?”

Perhaps I should have first asked “why.”

Getting to the point

Not too long after my trip to Africa, I interviewed a science professor at BYU in Provo, Utah. He was renowned for his work in a particular field. I asked him why his work was so important. He answered with a barrage of scientific jargon, little of which I understood.

Unfortunately, I repeated the mistake I’d made with the Imam by asking the professor the same question again. His answer was mingled with words such as “leading research,” “peer-reviewed trials,” breakthrough technology,” etc.

Flustered, I blurted, “Why should I care?”

Startled, he looked at me thoughtfully, then answered, “It’s a possible cure for cancer.”

“Now I have a story,” I said. And a headline, I thought. People don’t care about a process until they can see the potential impact it can have on their lives.

For example, when Joseph Smith walked into the Sacred Grove that spring morning in 1820 to ask which church he should join, he had little knowledge about the nature of God. He received an answer to the “which” question but also learned why. God revealed the nature of Himself and His Son, knowing it is easier for us to pray to a God we can comprehend rather than a nebulous, unknown being. And that understanding would be essential for the revelations that followed in the years to come.

Who knows where “why” will lead

My final story comes from a sister missionary in Germany. My wife and I were senior missionaries and district leaders for an all-sister district. Wanting to know why they decided to serve missions, we asked questions. Our dialogue with this particular sister went something like this:

“What did you do before you started your mission?”

“I played soccer at a junior college.”

“How did you do?”

“I scored a lot of goals.”

When you think you have all the answers, ask one more question.

I could have ended there, but I’d learned when you think you have all the answers, ask one more question.

“Why?”

“I was the smallest player on the team,” she said, “so I knew I had to be faster, smarter, and more determined than anyone else.”

Now I had something to write about. I knew the why as well as the what and how. In fact, the physical characteristics and personality of the female protagonist in my novel are based on our missionary’s answer. You never know where asking why will lead you.

Asking questions leads to discovery

Asking questions while researching your book (or preparing for a presentation, podcast, interview, etc.) will add depth and understanding to your work. Ask questions of your characters to understand them better and make them more believable to your readers. We told our missionaries in Germany to ask questions before they started teaching. It not only endeared them to their friends, but their answers about their joys, concerns, successes, and failures often led to gospel discussions.

The concept of asking the right questions is not new, as Simon Sinek described in his acclaimed book, Start with Why. His Ted Talk on the topic has 56 million views. Simon says every inspired leader or innovator asks the question “What.” A smaller number ask “How,” and very few ask “Why.”

The essence of “why”

The plot in my upcoming novel, Erika’s War, is about uranium being smuggled from Germany to Russia. There, the Russians will generate vast amounts of electricity and sell it to the Germans at an extremely low price. The conspiracy will drive renewable power and other sources of electricity out of business, eventually giving the Russians economic control over Germany on a scale not seen since the Cold War.

Plausibility for my plot is strengthened when I discovered that growth of renewable sources of energy is already faltering in Europe. Asking the right questions gave me the why. For example, I discovered that villages in Germany are taxing wind farms for noise pollution and limiting encroachment to two kilometers. This raises the cost of land acquisition and wind farm operation, and increases the likelihood of acceptance of lower-priced energy from Russia.

“Why” has to do with purpose, cause, or belief, not results. It’s the reason Christians and Muslims get along in Sierra Leone. It’s the reason the science professor spends untold hours of research. It’s the reason my soccer player was so good. And it’s the reason the protagonist in your novel just might prevail.