#WritingCraft #CharacterDevelopment #WomenInFiction #WritingTips #AmWriting
(Miss Primm Blog) In the Justix files, a Neo Noir MM thriller, I have female characters. While designing teaser cards for my second book, Loose Ends, something smacked me in the face.
I was working on a promotional excerpt from one of my novels when I noticed something.
In one scene, Rik has badly injured himself(No spoilers, how!) Rose, his housekeeper, finds him on his bedroom floor, fusses over him, brings ice packs, and generally makes sure the rock star doesn’t kill himself through neglect.
Nothing unusual there.
Rose has a great deal of affection for Rik. Taking care of him is completely consistent with her character and their relationship.
Then I thought about Jessick.
McQuire watches out for Jessick. She was assigned to keep him reigned-in since he’s prone to do ill-advised things.
And Teller?
Angela, the super-efficient admin of the West Hollywood station detective bullpen? She looks out for Teller, who is Jessick’s Training Officer partner in book one, and Justix’s captain in book 2.
Oh.
I had accidentally assigned most of the caregiving to women.
But Every Individual Scene Made Sense
That’s what interested me.
If I’d written a stereotypical female character whose only purpose was to nurture the men around her, the problem would have been obvious.
But I hadn’t.
Rose can stand up to Rik. McQuire is a police sergeant with authority, opinions, and a sharp tongue. Angela is too busy with her job to wait for a man to require emotional support.
They’re all distinct characters with agency.
And in every individual scene, there was a perfectly good reason for the woman to be the caregiver.
When I stepped back from the individual scenes and looked at the pattern that I saw it.
The women take care of the men.
Bias Doesn’t Always Arrive Wearing a Name Tag
Writers talk a lot about avoiding stereotypes, but I think that sometimes makes us look for stereotypes at the character level.
Is this female character passive?
Is this male character emotionally unavailable?
Is this gay character defined entirely by his sexuality?
Is this older character helpless?
Those are useful questions.
But bias can operate at another level entirely.
It can emerge from a collection of individually reasonable choices.
Nobody told me women should take care of men. I certainly didn’t sit down with my outline and write:
CARETAKING DUTIES: FEMALE CHARACTERS ONLY.
I simply reached for the character who seemed naturally suited to each moment.
Three different times.
And each time, that character was a woman.
That’s where cultural programming gets interesting.
The Answer Isn’t to Make Rose Stop Caring for Rik
Once you notice something like this, you’re tempted to correct it mechanically.
Swap a woman for a man.
Make the female character less nurturing.
Give the ice pack to somebody with a Y chromosome and congratulate yourself on defeating sexism.
But that isn’t necessarily better writing.
Rose would take care of Rik.
She says of him: “Mr. Rik wouldn’t hurt anybody. He’s always respectful to me, and there are plenty of people who don’t treat the housekeeper respectfully.”
Changing a truthful character moment simply because I’ve discovered a larger pattern could make the book less authentic rather than more.
The useful discovery isn’t:
Women shouldn’t nurture men.
It’s:
I apparently reach for women when somebody needs nurturing.
Those are very different things.
And the second one gives me something valuable as a writer: awareness.
Audit the Pattern, Not Just the Character
It made me wonder what else we miss when we’re looking only at individual scenes.
Across an entire novel—or better yet, across several novels:
Who gives care, and who receives it?
Who solves the problem?
Who gets rescued?
Who apologizes first?
Who provides the emotional insight?
Who initiates sex?
Who gets angry?
Who is allowed to remain angry?
Who gets forgiven?
Who explains things?
Who makes the final decision?
Any single answer may be completely appropriate for those particular characters.
It’s the repetition that’s interesting.
Because sometimes the stereotype isn’t sitting inside a character.
It’s hidden in our societal expectations.
Once You See the Pattern
I’m not changing Rose.
She has a great deal of affection for Rik. Of course, she takes care of him.
I’m not going through the manuscript frantically redistributing ice packs in the interest of gender parity, either.
What changed was that now I can see the pattern.
And once a writer sees a pattern, the next choice becomes a choice.
Question: What choices do you make with your characters?
