Poetic Characterisation

"I never started from ideas but always from character..." — Ivan Turgenev

Before I sit down to write a story, I need the main character clearly in mind. Like every other writer, it's important for me to know my characters well—so that when I place them in certain situations, I understand how they will react. Understanding real people in depth is difficult; few of those around us are open books. We all have our secrets. The great thing about fictional characters is that the writer knows all about these secrets and hidden thoughts. The writer can choose to reveal them by putting the character into situations the character would never dream of entering without that push from their creator.

But how does a writer get to know the fictional characters they create? For me, one of the most useful methods is having my characters write poetry.

When Characters Speak in Verse

Rufus Hobster is a vampire navigating a world oversaturated with his kind. He stopped communicating with me, perhaps I should have made him a zombie instead. But while he was still telling me his story, he also wrote poetry. That's how I truly came to understand him. That's how I was able to write the stories he needed to tell.

This is a Rufus poem:

Emotion is Illusion

I need to get away from the light, the rain.

Feelings aren't real

they only exist in the past,

like these memories I fake each day with you,

they fail to comprehend truth.

Only when you say my name,

when you whisper my name against my skin

only moments like these are real

and now that you are gone

everything is an illusion

everything is nothing.

This poem reveals that Rufus is hurting. He has lost something more than life—he has lost the reason to live. He is dead in more ways than an unbeating heart. Yet he still clings to existence, faking his way through the night. I need to know why he continues living in this hollow way. I need to discover whether he will ever feel the same way again when someone else whispers his name against their skin.

The events that created this pain may not appear directly in his story, but as a writer, I need to know about them to judge how he will respond to the situations I put him in. When I place him in these moments, I must remember that always, in the dark shadows of his mind, he carries this wound.

Here is another poem by Rufus:

Footprints in the Rain

I watched him die slowly

to the sound of raindrops falling on leaves.

He had lost too much blood

a melancholic trail leading me to him.

His eyes held acceptance, yet,

he still flinched when I approached.

I knelt down beside him,

and held onto his hand.

He never spoke,

I think he was listening to the rain.

The damp undergrowth was pungent

a welcome distraction to the scent of his blood.

Both his feet had been chewed off

and discarded somewhere I could not see.

Something heartless had left the child this way,

something just like me.

Clearly Rufus is not heartless, the way he stays with the child until death tells me this. Yet, he feels heartless; he feels capable of killing the child in the same cruel way. If Rufus didn't kill the child, then who did? What has he done to feel this way and what does he fear he will become?

Again, this particular moment in Rufus' life may not feature in the story I write. What I need to remember is that Rufus feels capable of behaving this way. Understanding why he thinks this, whether he has already killed similarly, or whether he's seeing his future, becomes essential to writing him authentically.

The Full Spectrum of Character

Rufus isn't only hurting and dead—there are other sides to him, as this verse illustrates:

Do You Want?

The world is beautifully synchronised tonight

let's burn it together before sunrise changes everything.

Then teach me gently how to bleed

while our flames wild the night-time air.

And when all the lights are turned off hungry

don't hide away from my touch,

take this hand I offer and dream of music makers ravenous

as I take in the scent of your skin

and you gaze only into these darkling eyes.

Rufus can burn with the best of them. He knows passion, hunger, intensity. Knowing this complexity—that he contains both profound grief and wild vitality—makes him a character worth exploring. The poetry reveals these contradictions in ways exposition never could.

The Method in Practice

Having a clear picture and understanding of your characters is critical to the story writing process. Once you know their strengths, flaws and motivations, you are well on your way to understanding them. Once you understand them, you can put them into situations that will transform and make them grow as individuals. Or you might discover they're incapable of growth, that they're tragic figures destined to repeat their patterns. Either revelation serves the story.

Poetry cuts through the surface narrative to reveal what characters truly feel, what they fear, what they desire in their most unguarded moments. It's a tool that has consistently shown me aspects of my characters I wouldn't have discovered through conventional character sheets or plot outlines.

When a character writes a poem, they're speaking directly from their psychological core, unfiltered, raw, honest. As their creator, I'm privileged to witness these moments. And as a writer, I'm obligated to honour what they reveal.