Know thy Character- Scott

          People always ask, “Where do you get your ideas” for stories and characters. The obvious (and overly simple) answer is from my life. A writer friend of mine said she once read that an author’s first published novel is usually the most autobiographical, but I don’t believe this to be true. After all, my first published work, The Secret Keeper, is about clouds coming to life and mystical Gateways of magic and unicorns and dragons.

          Don’t I wish?!

          Still, looking back on that series, there are definitely aspects of my life that are worked into the novel. For example, one of the characters tells a story of a family member’s ghostly encounter in a graveyard. This anecdote was taken from my family’s own history. The varying quality of schoolwork given to the teacher (the characters are 15) is modeled after the varying quality of schoolwork I have received over the years.

          And then there’s the character of Scott, the best friend.

          When I first began working on the novel, I was just in the 8^th grade. I was green enough to be a Ninja Turtle when it came to developing plots and characters. Still, I had an idea of a magical girl who lived among the clouds, the believer who would see her and know (Wil), and the best friend who had an unhappy home life. That was really all I knew about Scott’s life. Like I said—green.

          Fast-forward many years, and I am working as a high school teacher. Now I had a few years teaching under my belt at this point, although I technically wasn’t a veteran of the profession yet, which is 10+ years. This particular year, I had freshmen, and in that class was a student named *Eric. Eric was an island unto himself. Withdrawn, quiet, a bit moody, a sleeper when his nose wasn’t stuck in a book—everything that would tip a teacher off that there’s something more going on here than meets the eye. Naturally, I reached out to the home to try and figure out a way to help Eric. His step-mother, a super sweet lady with a genuine concern for his well-being, filled me in with the following details: Eric’s mother was an alcoholic, and when she had been drinking, she could be quite cruel. Even though they were trying to remove her from his life, it remained a slow, difficult process.

          Then began the challenge of trying to reach Eric. Understandably, his trust in adults didn’t go too far, so in that case, teachers learn to rely on the peers. His classmates seemed to genuinely like him and accept him. By partnering him up with some of them, we started to get him back on track…slowly.

          This particular year, I also had the responsibility of the school yearbook. I knew nothing about creating the yearbook as I had never done this before, not even when I was in high school (I worked on the literary magazine instead). However, I did know that funds needed to be raised to pay for said yearbook, so the class decided to have a talent show. We made flyers, sold tickets, built a stage—the whole shebang.

          Eric’s step-mom called me. Eric desperately wanted to be in the show—he played guitar—but his grades were not good. I didn’t care if his GPA had been .04—I was letting this kid in. Something changed in Eric. He began trying harder in my class. He still didn’t talk, but there was a light in his eyes and he was no longer sleeping through lessons.

          The talent show had judges, but I was not one of them. My role was MC and keeper of the prizes. The grand prize was $50.00, and we had gift cards for 2^nd and 3^rd places. The show was a lot of fun, and the range of talents impressed the audience. Eric closed the show. He didn’t just play guitar—he played rock guitar, and boy did he rock that gymnasium!

          He won first place.

          That was a moment when I was so thankful I chose teaching as a profession. Seeing the excitement on his face, and that whopper of a bear hug I got from him when he won—well, it’s those little moments that get me through a profession that is far too scarce in its victories.

          And that’s when my character Scott began to click.

          As I revised The Secret Keeper (book 1 in the series) these many years later, I realized Scott’s life had begun to parallel Eric’s without my even trying. Scott Jenkins had an alcoholic father who became violent when drunk. I do not profess to know the psychology involved in a child victim of such a life; rather, I drew on what I had witnessed with Eric. In the book, Scott sought sanctuary at Wil’s house. He saw Wil’s family as his real family. He kept his secret close to him, only confiding in Wil, whom he trusted the most. Instead of being withdrawn as Eric was, however, Scott leaned more to the class clown, the flirt, the good-time fella who hid his pain behind his laughter.

          My critique group wondered about the likelihood that a child victim of verbal and physical abuse would tend towards a laid-back, jovial personality rather than one of anger and violence. However, the brain is a mysterious instrument, and Eric, the model for Scott’s character, never exhibited any anger or outward resentment. Instead, the sorrow, the disappointment—those were the traits that were real and evident. I was also able to use the argument that because Scott was the victim of an abusive father, he worked hard not to give in to anger and sought a replacement for the love he wasn’t getting at home, which he found at Wil’s house. In a way, his friendship with Wil is what saved Scott.

          I still do not claim The Secret Keeper to be “auto-biographical.” It’s fantasy, after all. Still, I suppose my life is worked into the pages, whether consciously (the ghost story) or unconsciously (Scott’s background). I cannot look at Scott without thinking of the boy who inspired him. Scott’s life became wondrous and full of fantastical possibilities. I hope Eric’s turned out the same way.

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent