Creating a memorable character

Character may be the most important element in storytelling. If we don’t care about a character, we don’t care about the story. Yet I think most of what we think we understand about creating characters is wrong.

Consider fairy tales. Why do we care what happens to Hansel and Gretel? Why do we care what happens to Snow White or Cinderella? These characters aren’t psychologically complex. They don’t have detailed back stories. But the stories are still compelling.

This becomes more complicated when we deal with storytelling in a professional setting, because most often we’re telling stories about ourselves. Even for fiction writers, writing a character that is very similar to yourself can often become a trap. The character who it seems you should know the best—you—comes off as flat and one-dimensional, boring and even unrealistic. We should have the most information about ourselves, why would we have such a hard time depicting ourselves in our own stories?

I think we misunderstand what makes people care. We provide information when what people need is connection. Piling up details about someone does not create a compelling character. So what do we need to create a compelling character?

There are three key ingredients: vulnerability, relationships, and problems to solve.

Let’s imagine you’re interviewing for a job. Job interviews largely consist of us telling stories about ourselves. We want those stories to be compelling, memorable, and significant. We want to hold the interviewer’s interest, we want them to remember the story later, and we want the story to make an impact on them—specifically the impact that they will want to hire us.

What do we do? We tell stories about how good we are at our jobs. Everything I did right, all my leadership capabilities, every success in which I was responsible. Unfortunately, since everyone approaches a job interview in this way, this does not make me memorable. We’re providing information but not connection.

A good story connects emotionally. The person making a hiring decision is not a robot, and they won’t make that decision entirely based on data and facts—even if they will pretend to themselves that’s what they’re doing. A wealth of research has proved this.

If I connect emotionally, I have an edge over other applicants—and we know this instinctively. We have a sense of when an interview “went well” based on our ability to create a rapport with the interviewer. Sometimes we create this rapport intentionally, by making small talk, but I can build an emotional connection through storytelling. Specifically by paying attention to how I create the main character of that story: me.

I’m not the only one who is a big fan of Brene Brown’s work on vulnerability—but I think many of us turn away from vulnerability in exactly the situations where it would have the biggest impact. Of course vulnerability is important, of course it’s the source of creativity and connection. Show vulnerability in a job interview? Heavens no.

Intentionally revealing vulnerability doesn’t just feel challenging, it feels embarrassing. It seems like it will make me uncomfortable and make the interviewer uncomfortable too. When we think of vulnerability, we think about crying and sharing deeply personal trauma. This does not seem ideal for a job interview.

Let’s look at some ways to use storytelling in order to reveal our vulnerability in a way that feels professional.

One of the best ways to reveal character in a story is to talk about an important relationship in the character’s life. We care about Hansel and Gretel because Hansel and Gretel care about each other. The story of Snow White doesn’t begin with her being beautiful, it begins with her losing her mother. Think about the most important people in your life. Do they show up in the stories you tell at work?

This doesn’t mean that you tell stories about the most important relationships in your life—the story of Snow White isn’t the story of her mother’s death. It’s the story of the wicked queen who tries to murder her. If you’re a good storyteller, your stories about your past work experience will be full of lots of wicked queens, and you will triumph over them every time. But take a moment to create yourself as a character first.

Remember the three elements needed for a compelling character: vulnerability, relationships, and a problem to solve. The last one is often the easiest—every good story gives someone a problem to solve. The first one is often the hardest. But incorporating an important relationship into the story often brings these together organically. Talking about how you worked closely with a colleague you respect on a big project shows that you knew you couldn’t do it alone—vulnerability—but also raises the stakes on the drama of the story—problem to solve.

Here are some other examples:

I was working on Amazing Project #1, and it was my first time leading a team. Very Important Executive was an important mentor of mine, and I didn’t want to let her down.

I moved to Vancouver ten years ago for a job, and I’ve stayed here ever since. I realized recently that my closest friends are all people that I met through work. Working in this industry is an important part of my life. That’s why I want to find a company where I fit in with the culture.

I really like that this position allows me to work from home. My mother lives with me, and I help to look after her. Working from home makes that easier.

My husband thinks I work too hard. He likes to tell this story about me because he thinks it’s an example of insane behavior. But it’s important to me to go the extra mile for customers.

These are not stories in and of themselves. These are details one can use in order to make a story more compelling. Job interviewers are desperate to get a sense of who you are as a person, to stop you from rehashing your resume, to interrupt your list of leadership qualities. They want to understand who you are, how you think, and what it might be like to work with you. They want to see you as a real person.

Notice the element of vulnerability in each example. I’m afraid of letting someone down. I’m afraid I won’t fit in at your company. I have commitments outside of work that matter to me more than work. My husband thinks I’m insane.

Could someone use these details against me in a job interview? Could someone look at these as weaknesses? Could someone decide another applicant who showed no vulnerability was a better choice? Absolutely.

But do I want to work for that person?

If I show up as my authentic self, I might be rejected. And that might be more painful. It might fill me with questions about whether I’m employable or even socially acceptable. But if I show up as my authentic self, and I’m welcomed? That puts me in a much better position to succeed.

The trouble with waiting to show who you really are until you feel more secure is that the longer you wait, the less secure you feel. Story allows you to share vulnerability in the safe context of a narrative that you control. Reveal the aspects of your character that are important to the story, and then tell a memorable story that makes you stand out from the crowd.