Writing is basically psychology.

And I’m not just saying that because I have a degree in the subject. I honestly feel that stories are all about us as humans. They’re meant to reveal truths and experiences which we live. They carry our dreams, hopes and aspirations. They underscore the follies and foibles which we believe are meant to be avoided. Writing is ultimately the art of the mind and the narrating of behaviour – either those that are to be extolled or those that are to be condemned. 

I have spent a decent number of words discussing things like character motivations and fears. And I’ll no doubt have more blog entries pulling back the layers of our protagonist’s personalities and characteristics. I have little doubt that if you search for other writers or workshops on improving writing, we’re all going to be discussing the same things. In a way, as writers, we’re little psychologists. We’re trying to understand what causes our characters to do what they do so that we can communicate the reasons for those actions to our readers. 

In many ways, having a rudimentary understanding of psychology can go a long way in helping us to make more empathetic characters that our readers can be drawn into. And we want readers to be drawn to our characters. In fact, I believe readers are looking for that connection. Sure, exotic worlds and thrilling action are always fun. Movies don’t have action beats and car chases for nothing. The struggle against the conflicts we set before our characters are gripping – with the underlying assumption that we’ve been able to get our reader invested in the outcome before they happen. 

There’s no point in threatening the life of your protagonist if your reader doesn’t give to licks about whether they live or die. 

But even if you accept my assertion of psychology’s value in this field, what does that even mean in terms of a writing tip? Well, for instance, I think it’s important to see and treat your characters as people. Yes, they’re little puppets which we dance at the ends of our strings. However, if we can’t convince ourselves that they’re representations or standins for real people then how can we convince our readers of such? Our whole promise with our books is that we’re going to deliver something believable even if the action takes place in saucer shaped starships or in worlds infested with fire-breathing dragons. 

In this way, I think it is of great benefit to try and view the world around you with a bit of a psychologist’s lens. If you’ve never done it, take a moment to try and see the people in your lives as characters in your book. How would you break them down into motivations and fears? What sort of wants drive them and what worries hold them back? How do their actions in this moment of observation make sense with this little literary synopsis of them? What are they hoping to achieve with whatever interaction they’re having with you? Better yet, if they’re sharing a story of their day, try and think about the importance of what they’re telling you is. Why is it that they wanted to share this story of their colleague? Why are they sharing it with you instead of someone else? Take a moment, if you’ve never done so, to examine the potential causes for the connections you have with these people.

And then think about what connections there would be with the characters of your stories. 

In my earlier days of writing, I employed this sort of analytics more explicitly with my characters. My early stories are very much based on the question of “What would my sister as a fantasy knight look like? How would my best friend act if he were a world renowned gentleman thief?” From these mini psychological profiles of the people closest to me, I crafted the characters of my earliest works. And in that way, I had a starting point for understanding how these characters would react in ever more novel situations. I honestly have no experience with living in a fantasy Victorian steampunk setting. But I can take the blueprint of myself and imagine how I would react in the situations of my Red Sabre stories. I can then throw some of my other friends into the equation and ease the cognitive burden on my creative faculties by only changing a few variables rather than having to mentally construct wholly original people in entirely never experienced situations. 

And you know what I found? The more I wrote, the less I relied on the characteristics of the people I actually knew. I was able to imagine more realized and developed personalities which I could populate my stories with. 

So, take a break from writing. Interact with the people around you. Consider what motivations are driving their behaviours in that moment. Analyse them like you would your own characters. Imagine what that friend or family member would do in one of the situations in your story. Then consider, can you use any of these ideas for your book? Does it offer alternative actions or responses that you hadn’t considered before?