Anyone who knows me right now knows what a crazy Dance Central enthusiast I am. You know, the Microsoft Xbox Kinect dancing game where you can get down to songs like “Can’t Get You Out of My Head” or “Poison.” But little did I know that my favorite time-waster could actually give me some lessons in writing — in particular, on the daunting yet fulfilling process of characterization.

As someone whose been essentially trained as a writer and filmmaker to believe “CHARACTER IS EVERYTHING” in terms of writing a story, it’s fascinating to see how other disciplines work with character building — especially fields like gaming, which have become more and more narrative-focused. On an industrial level, it’s weird but cool to see how gaming breaks up aspects of the process — characters get a sketch artist, maybe a head writer conceptualizes it, and someone else might pull together a game’s narrative, which is fascinating especially when you come from an “auteurist” one-genius-does-it-all perspective.

Dance Central has been putting out a series of sketchbook blog entries giving a behind-the-scenes on the process of how it crafted and voiced its main characters. The game itself isn’t a narrative, but the characters are definitely distinctive, with strong personae. I play Dance Central a lot with my sisters and niece (still trying to get five stars on the Hard level of “Drop It Like It’s Hot”!) and we all have strong reactions to and even discussions on the avatars: my niece loves Miss Aubrey (I can’t stand her, she’s so snotty and girly!), I like Emilia and Oblio (she’s tough, and he’s so mysterious, like a ninja!) but my nephew likes Mo. Characters really are often the locus of emotional attachment to an entertainment, be it novel or game or film, and DC is no different. I found the behind-the-scenes to be interesting as a fan, but also as a writer, giving me some points to think about when it comes to pulling characters together.

THE IMPORTANCE OF COSTUME DESIGN

“Knowing characters” in terms of fiction and film is often highly psychological and focused on the inner life. While there’s no doubt that this is highly necessary, it’s interesting how gaming often focuses on the externals of a character: appearance, costume, hair. And it’s true, these visuals are kind of a shorthand, no matter what medium it’s in. I found it interesting that the game creators did a lot of research into dance music scenes and their fashion trends, and then extrapolated characters that would be part of those worlds from them.

I worked often as a costume and wardrobe designer in film, and what was most fascinating to me was how actors used costume to approach character — thinking about externals like clothes allowed them to think through what their characters’ daily lives were, what their histories and attachments were, how their aspirations were coded in their choices, and what the gulf was between how they presented themselves and who they really were in the story. I’ve always been interested in clothes and fashion, so it’s a natural bridge for me to think about how they would dress and why they wear what they wear. I’d imagine it be worth it for many writers to think through the questions of what their characters wear and why. Approaching the question of characterization from the outside in could yield some interesting insights, not to mention be fun to research.

QUESTIONS, QUESTIONS

I was really intrigued by the idea of a character questionnaire filled out by the Dance Central creators as they conceptualized their characters. On the one hand, the artiste in me is like “So reductive!” (I can also hear a few of my screenwriting teachers sneering in the background as well.) But on the other hand…what better, simpler way to get an initial handle on your character than a simple slate of questions?

Sometimes I wonder if we make our story preparation dense and complicated as a way to stave off anxiety about writing a story, by making prep almost as hard as actual work. The idea of a questionnaire seems almost like cheating. But I actually had a screenwriting prof who reduced the movement of a story into a set of questions that could be applied to each sequence of a screenplay…there were no super-complicated beat sheets or step outlines, no crazy treatments to draft. And curiously enough, it made for a clearer, more vital first draft than the most heavily outlined stories beforehand, at least for me. There’s something to be said about simplicity and clarity.

THE EASTER EGG

One of the fun things about games are the “hidden treats” that game creators build into them. Called “Easter eggs,” I got a big kick about learning more about Dance Central’s “pink ninja” character, who you get if you type in some special code and unlock certain achievements. The element of surprise is always important in a story, especially a longer-form narrative, and I like to imagine what the “Easter eggs” of a story are. For films, I think, they’re often strange little detours of a story — I just saw Hanna this weekend, and the trip she takes to Morocco is unexpected for the film, but yields so much emotional payoff that it’s vital. But characters need “Easter eggs,” too, no? Strange affections, odd enthusiasms, mannerisms — it’s these bits that keep them from becoming predictable or easy to peg. Also, plant them wisely and they grow into unexpectedly rich veins of story. I just watched Never Let Me Go, and there’s a strange incident where the main character riffles through some porn magazines, paging through them methodically and impatiently. It’s an odd moment, but forms the basis of a major connection later in the film. It’s worth thinking through characters’ eccentricities, secret behavior and hidden characteristics — and seeing what directions they can lead stories.