What Characters Mean to Us

Why do we fall in love with characters from literature and movies?

From the moment I started writing The White Door, nearly 15 years ago, I knew who I had in mind to play the character of Cleft Warrington, the wise and fatherly pastor of a small-town church in rural Pennsylvania—Peter Coyote. His roles in both E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) and A Walk to Remember (2002) made him the perfect fit. He often plays characters that are sincere, compassionate, thoughtful, and open to wonder. That was who I imagined Cleft Warrington being . . . and becoming—as I wrote and thought and wrote some more.

By the time I’d finished writing the book, I felt a bit sad that I’d be parting ways with Cleft. I didn’t want to leave him. (In fact, that’s how I knew the book was finished. A good book always leaves you wanting more.)

And that got me thinking about why we fall in love with characters in fiction—both on the page and on the screen. This happens with characters others create for us, but it also happens to characters that writers create for themselves in their own fiction. That was a new feeling for me.

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“It kept me going—and it wasn't long before I was fully invested (and that kept growing). By the time it was over, I wasn't quite ready to walk away from these characters and this world.” — Reader Review

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Why do characters mean so much to us?

Characters—both those we experience and those we create—mean so much to us because we stitch ourselves to them. Follow the metaphor with me. Every time I meet a character in a book or a movie, it’s as if I face the character with an invisible needle and thread. And every trait or experience that I can identify with leads to a new stitch. We stitch ourselves to the characters that are like us, or to the characters that embody who we want to become.

Take Aragorn from Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings as an example. My son and I are reading through the series for the second time. When I read descriptors of Aragorn, I get inspired. He’s a tracker and explorer of the wilds. I’m not. But I would like to be in certain ways. He’s a man of his word. I aim to be as well. He has a sense of honor and loyalty. Those are traits I aspire to in my relationships. He has a royal destiny. That’s something, as a child of God, that I can identify with, too. All of these connections are stitches. I’m linking myself to the character with invisible thread.

As the story develops, I am unconsciously growing more and more attached to Aragorn. He becomes more real to me because I’m carrying him around with me, in a sense. And when the story ends, I feel a little sad. I tied myself to a character, but now the story is being laid to rest. I’m just not ready for that to happen yet.

The same phenomenon occurred as I wrote and developed the character of Cleft Warrington in The White Door. I found myself stitched to him as I gave him qualities that I believe my late father had: wisdom, faith, patience, confidence. Here’s an excerpt of dialogue from him.

“So,” Cleft said. “Where do you wanna walk?”

“Walk?” Seth asked.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just an expression my father used all the time. He said a conversation was like taking a walk through the woods. Whenever we talked, he’d start by saying, ‘Where you wanna walk?’” Cleft smiled in reflection.

“Hmm,” Seth nodded. “I like that image.”

“Yeah, my father loved words. Loved what they did. He said they were magical. In fact, that’s probably one of the reasons why I became a pastor. I just love words.” Cleft paused.

“Me too,” Seth said contentedly.

“Oh, that’s right!” Cleft said. “You’re a writer! Well, you’re in good company.”

“How did you know I was a writer?” Seth asked, not bothered, just puzzled.

“Well, I make it my business to know what people love in this town. When you and your wife started attending the church some months back, I asked around just so I could get a handle on things.”

Seth nodded. He didn’t really want this to turn into a discussion about church, and it seemed to be drifting that way.

“So,” Cleft broke the short silence. “Where you wanna walk?”

“That door,” Seth said as Cleft stared off into the distance in front of them. “You won’t tell me what’s on the other side. . . . But would you, would you go with me?”

Cleft smiled. It was a smile that immediately reminded him of his father, and in that moment, he felt like a child. Cleft took an audible breath filled with parental compromise.

“I’ll walk with you up to the door if you like. But I can’t go through it with you. We each go through alone, but you won’t be alone after you go through. I can promise you that.”

Seth stared at Cleft, waiting for him to say something else, but that was it.

“I am the door,” Cleft almost whispered.

“What?”

“John 10:9,” Cleft said. Then he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Seth tried to breathe softly so that he wouldn’t give away his awkward discomfort. “Think about that one, before you decide to walk through. Okay?” Cleft said.

Seth nodded slowly. He had no idea what that meant, but he didn’t want to look like an idiot, so he said nothing. Then he glanced down at his watch.

Cleft is a character I was happy to weave together even as I stitched myself to him. His love of words and the truth of Scripture, his fatherly assurance, his quiet guidance—these are stitches. We fall in love with characters because we stitch ourselves to them.

And You?

I wonder what characters you have stitched yourself to from books and movies. Feel free to drop them in the comments. We might learn a lot about each other. It’s the stitches we make that reveal the most about who we are and who we want to become.

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Signed Book Giveaway

Rather than giving things to random people on social media, I like to bless “my people” from this Substack. So, if you want a chance to receive a signed copy of The White Door, simply restack this post. I’ll choose a winner at the end of the weekend and send the book out to you.

Thanks for being part of this community. You are deeply appreciated!