And intriguing premise inspires me to buy the book and start reading, but what draws me in to the story and keeps me there is the cast of characters. If the reader can’t make me care if the protagonist succeeds and how they feel about what’s happening, then I lose interest quickly and put the book aside.
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I think compelling characters are the core of a good story. I’ll admit there are some exceptions to this, but aren’t there always? I still read Lee Child’s stories even though there is nothing Jack Reacher wants more than to move on to the next town and we see very little emotion and no growth in his character. He does have a moral code most of us can relate to, so of course we want him to overcome and perhaps that’s what keeps us reading in spite of his lack of emotion, goals and dreams. But the stories that stay with me are the ones with deep point of view characters who have strengths and weakness, goals, desires, wounds and all those things that make us human.
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I once critiqued a book, one of a series several books long, but the only reason I stuck with it was because of that commitment to critique it. The so-called heroine was faced with one horror after another, her counterpart/husband likewise, but not at her side. They coped, but never seemed to “feel” anything. It was just one bad thing to get through after another with no grieving, no sense loss or triumph, no growth. The only character that held some promise was the villain’s henchman who had a glimmer of a conscience and I kept thinking he was going to change, but in the end, he caved to the demands of his boss and stopped thinking about the evil he was into. A huge disappointment to me. Nothing could have dragged me into the next book, not even a willingness to help another author.
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I am currently reading another book with a very intriguing premise and variety of interesting characters who hold a great deal of promise, but the heroine is attacked at the start of the book by a psychiatric patient who carves his initial into her face to mark her as his. She escapes and eventually returns to the home she grew up in to recuperate. Everyone around her worries about how she will react when she sees the S carved into her cheek when the bandages come off. Then abruptly about two thirds of the way through the book, another point of view character mentions that the bandages have been left off and the wound is still raw and looks painful. But there is nothing in his point of view about his feelings and we never saw her feelings. We never even saw her remove the bandages and get her first look at the ravages of her face. How could she NOT be affected? Why do we never get to “feel” what she feels when she sees it? Why do those around her who have worried about her reaction not even wince when they see the scar? I feel like the author let me down here by hinting at her feelings but then not following through.
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So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want to be swept into the story and made to feel what the characters are feeling. If they are afraid, I want to be afraid. If they are grieving, I want to be grieving. If they fall in love, I want to feel that wonderful feeling too. When they are about to make a horrible choice, I want to hear myself saying “NO! Don’t do it!” I want the author to make me hold my breath as the train comes roaring down the track and my heroine is struggling to remove the rope that ties her to the rail. That’s very cliché, I know, but I was listening to an action/adventure story on audio once while I was on my way to a meeting. I pulled into the parking lot, grabbed my gear and dashed to the meeting as if I were late and everyone was just waiting on me, only to find the room nearly empty and me early (for a change.) As I stood there, my heart still pounding and the adrenalin beginning to wear off, I realized that feeling of urgency had been in the book I was listening to, not the situation I was actually in personally. That’s the kind of writing that pulls me into a book and keeps me there. I was the one being hunted down by a hit-man while trying to complete the mission I’d been given.
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Long before Outlander became all the rage on Starz and Sam Heughan became Jamie Fraser to the fans of the series, I read the books and was drawn right into the lives of Jamie and Clair, Murtagh, Jennie, Ian and the rest of the clan. I might not have actually felt the lashes on Jamie’s back as he was whipped, but I felt the anguish in his soul. I felt the tears on Clair’s face – or maybe they were on mine. I “felt” them falling in love, experienced the frustration and horror Clair experienced as she adjusted to a time very unlike her own, and began to understand the sense of obligation Jamie felt to his 
clan. That’s the kind of thing that draws me into a book. As a child, Johanna Spyri made me want desperately to “BE” Heidi. I just knew that mountain was where life was great. I wanted to spend my days with Peter and my nights with The Grandfather, because Spyri drew me into Heidi’s head and heart, showing me her fears and loves and experiencing her struggles and her triumphs.
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Outside of the author using deep point of view and pulling me into the lives of her characters, letting me experience the story rather than just them telling it, often it’s the kind of characters who people a story. The types of characters that appeal to me are not the Adonises that appear on the covers of romances, but the men who have morals and courage, yet have broken, hurting pieces, doubts, fears and justifiable needs to succeed. The same goes for female characters. I don’t need them to be gorgeous or sexier than anyone I’ve ever met. But I do need them not to be wimpy, subservient, watering pots. I want them to have their flaws, of course, but also a sense of who they are as individuals, what they want and how much they are willing to sacrifice to get it. One reason I never read books about billionaires is because I don’t find money and wealth compelling. I want to relate to the characters and I can’t relate to someone so out of my league that I can’t imagine their lifestyle no matter how well the author describes it.
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I have never personally been in the military, but I can relate to the sense of purpose and a calling to serve that a soldier, sailor, airman or Marine feels, so reading stories of men and women who serve in uniform appeals to be because it could be me. The single mom who struggles to make a life for her kids and still have one herself is relatable because I’ve been there, done that. The anguish of a man who did his best to be a good husband and father and ends up with nothing when his wife 
divorces him, the man or woman who had a dream to start their own business and struggles against all kinds of odds, the lonely older person, with their family scattered, the beat cop who sees the worst of the worst and still hangs on to his or her ideals – these are all characters I can relate to. These are the kinds of men and women who keep me turning pages, cheering them on, crying over their heartbreaks, wanting to hug them and offer solace when things are tough, and then finding a thoroughly satisfying ending when they succeed in the end. I want to meet characters in every book that leave me feeling like my best friends just moved far away when the book ends. MAKE ME CARE!
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Now you know what grabs me in a book, check out what appeals to these authors:
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Victoria Chatham
Helena Fairfax
Judith Copek
Diane Bator
Dr. Bob Rich
Fiona McGier
Rhobin L Courtright
Connie Vines
I think compelling characters are the core of a good story. I’ll admit there are some exceptions to this, but aren’t there always? I still read Lee Child’s stories even though there is nothing Jack Reacher wants more than to move on to the next town and we see very little emotion and no growth in his character. He does have a moral code most of us can relate to, so of course we want him to overcome and perhaps that’s what keeps us reading in spite of his lack of emotion, goals and dreams. But the stories that stay with me are the ones with deep point of view characters who have strengths and weakness, goals, desires, wounds and all those things that make us human. 
I once critiqued a book, one of a series several books long, but the only reason I stuck with it was because of that commitment to critique it. The so-called heroine was faced with one horror after another, her counterpart/husband likewise, but not at her side. They coped, but never seemed to “feel” anything. It was just one bad thing to get through after another with no grieving, no sense loss or triumph, no growth. The only character that held some promise was the villain’s henchman who had a glimmer of a conscience and I kept thinking he was going to change, but in the end, he caved to the demands of his boss and stopped thinking about the evil he was into. A huge disappointment to me. Nothing could have dragged me into the next book, not even a willingness to help another author.
I am currently reading another book with a very intriguing premise and variety of interesting characters who hold a great deal of promise, but the heroine is attacked at the start of the book by a psychiatric patient who carves his initial into her face to mark her as his. She escapes and eventually returns to the home she grew up in to recuperate. Everyone around her worries about how she will react when she sees the S carved into her cheek when the bandages come off. Then abruptly about two thirds of the way through the book, another point of view character mentions that the bandages have been left off and the wound is still raw and looks painful. But there is nothing in his point of view about his feelings and we never saw her feelings. We never even saw her remove the bandages and get her first look at the ravages of her face. How could she NOT be affected? Why do we never get to “feel” what she feels when she sees it? Why do those around her who have worried about her reaction not even wince when they see the scar? I feel like the author let me down here by hinting at her feelings but then not following through.
So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want to be swept into the story and made to feel what the characters are feeling. If they are afraid, I want to be afraid. If they are grieving, I want to be grieving. If they fall in love, I want to feel that wonderful feeling too. When they are about to make a horrible choice, I want to hear myself saying “NO! Don’t do it!” I want the author to make me hold my breath as the train comes roaring down the track and my heroine is struggling to remove the rope that ties her to the rail. That’s very cliché, I know, but I was listening to an action/adventure story on audio once while I was on my way to a meeting. I pulled into the parking lot, grabbed my gear and dashed to the meeting as if I were late and everyone was just waiting on me, only to find the room nearly empty and me early (for a change.) As I stood there, my heart still pounding and the adrenalin beginning to wear off, I realized that feeling of urgency had been in the book I was listening to, not the situation I was actually in personally. That’s the kind of writing that pulls me into a book and keeps me there. I was the one being hunted down by a hit-man while trying to complete the mission I’d been given.
Long before Outlander became all the rage on Starz and Sam Heughan became Jamie Fraser to the fans of the series, I read the books and was drawn right into the lives of Jamie and Clair, Murtagh, Jennie, Ian and the rest of the clan. I might not have actually felt the lashes on Jamie’s back as he was whipped, but I felt the anguish in his soul. I felt the tears on Clair’s face – or maybe they were on mine. I “felt” them falling in love, experienced the frustration and horror Clair experienced as she adjusted to a time very unlike her own, and began to understand the sense of obligation Jamie felt to his 
clan. That’s the kind of thing that draws me into a book. As a child, Johanna Spyri made me want desperately to “BE” Heidi. I just knew that mountain was where life was great. I wanted to spend my days with Peter and my nights with The Grandfather, because Spyri drew me into Heidi’s head and heart, showing me her fears and loves and experiencing her struggles and her triumphs.
I have never personally been in the military, but I can relate to the sense of purpose and a calling to serve that a soldier, sailor, airman or Marine feels, so reading stories of men and women who serve in uniform appeals to be because it could be me. The single mom who struggles to make a life for her kids and still have one herself is relatable because I’ve been there, done that. The anguish of a man who did his best to be a good husband and father and ends up with nothing when his wife 
divorces him, the man or woman who had a dream to start their own business and struggles against all kinds of odds, the lonely older person, with their family scattered, the beat cop who sees the worst of the worst and still hangs on to his or her ideals – these are all characters I can relate to. These are the kinds of men and women who keep me turning pages, cheering them on, crying over their heartbreaks, wanting to hug them and offer solace when things are tough, and then finding a thoroughly satisfying ending when they succeed in the end. I want to meet characters in every book that leave me feeling like my best friends just moved far away when the book ends. MAKE ME CARE! 
Now you know what grabs me in a book, check out what appeals to these authors:
