Coloring in Characters

I woke up in a cold sweat, dreaming that all the main male characters in my books were raven-haired and blue-eyed. Why raven hair; why blue-blue eyes? With a toss in bed, I divined that it was because my eyes are like cesspools. I envied every blue-eyed person I saw. I even married one. Reassured, I went back to sleep.

A few hours later, a vision of Grieg Washburn, from Saving Calypso, all five foot eleven, dark brown hair and blue eyes of him made me sit straight up in bed. I began inventorying .

Perfidia, one café au lait with brown hair and gray eyes and another with brown hair and deep blue eyes, so blue they appear black. Booth Island. Dark hair, dark eyes. “Beneath the black horn-rims, his eyes, noir, schwarz, beltza, svart, black in any language, absorbed the light in the room.” Glasses, too. Two wins.

The Cooper brothers of the Cooper Quartet, one tall, dark and blue-eyed, one red-headed with amber eyes. 50/50.

Doc and Kanady in the Wanee Mysteries, one with brown hair and gentle, soft brown eyes, the other with hair “the color of a shrew’s back” and sharp blue eyes. 50/50.

So, what was the crazy dream all about? Invention of character, I suspect.

As writers plot, we envision the emotional and physical strength the protagonists and antagonists will need. Should they stand out in a crowd or disappear? Does self-loathing or self-love color their world. Who are they ethnically, from where do they hale, what made them them? We see them in living color, dark, light, shadowed and paint them through their actions, other characters’ perceptions, or self-observation. To me, a character’s hair, eyes, complexion are tells that create an image and a touchstone for the reader, leaving the reader with a bias for the good or bad.

And off we go with a spot of good guy, bad guy:

Booth Island. Sturdevant’s eyes roved over my shirt and down my shorts to my sandals. Meanwhile, I studied the jagged scar over his left eye that continued into his hairline. It was new since he was cuffed and taken into custody, as were the glasses he now wore. Horn-rims. The left lens was as thick as my little finger. His black hair was shorn short on the sides, unmasking a thickly scarred depression above his left ear. Dark stubble stained his strong jawline and accented the hard lines of his mouth.  ☐ Good guy   ☐ Bad guy   ☐ Both

Saving Calypso. Rafe was tall, broad-shouldered and powerful from living off the grid or perhaps from his years in the U.S. Army. He had a generous nose, an engaging mouth, sweet blue eyes, and a square chin. He wore his dusty blond hair in a thick braid, uncut since he had hiked into the mountains.  ☐ Good guy  ☐ Bad guy  ☐ Both

Perfidia. He not only smelled male; he smelled like money, lots of it, as though he had been rubbed in it since childhood. His too-close-together eyes were a deep, dark blue with black corona. His umber hair would have been in ringlets if not for the expensive, stylish cut that left it long in the back and waving over his ears.  ☐ Good guy   ☐ Bad guy  ☐ Both

Dead Legend. Mike Bowen hadn’t changed in the twelve years since Byron had last seen him, still stocky, his sandy blond hair still in a butch. He had one of those faces that had battled its way through school. His nose had a slight drift to the left. He had a scar through the blond of his right eyebrow.  ☐ Good guy   ☐ Bad guy  ☐ Both

A Confluence of Enemies. Thime hunkered down on his wagon and offered his right hand, palm up, for the shake. A welted scar disfigured the soft side of his right forearm. Mr. Kanady glanced at it, his shoulders squared, his head bobbed back until he stared into Thime’s blue eyes. At that moment, Cora noted, the two men might pass for brothers. Except Thime was years older and inches shorter. It was their shared coloring and a certain sharpness in their eyes. ☐ Good guy   ☐ Bad guy  ☐ Both

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