book that people would enjoy—that was the one that got slammed the hardest. Like you said, it was things I never could have anticipated that people didn’t like.
As I look back on it, I think if I had a chance, I would take those parts out, or change those things that people hated. But I didn’t know at the time. And so now, as I’m writing another book—I know there are things that people are going to hate. But I don’t know what they are. [SM laughs] If I only knew what they were, I would be sorely tempted to change them to try and please everyone! I do the very best I can, but you can never anticipate what it is that people are going to react to.
SM: See, I have a very different reaction to that, because I
can’t
change it—it is the way it is. I mean, there are things I can do in editing—and I can polish the writing. I know I can always do better with that. And I know that, even in the final form, if I could have another three months to work on it, I would never stop polishing, because I can always make every word more important.
But I just can’t change what happens, because that’s the way it is. That’s the story: Who the people are dictates what happens to them. I mean, there are outside forces that can come in, but how the characters respond to them eventually determines where they’re going to be. Once you know who they are, there’s no way to change what their future is—it just is what it is.
And so my reaction, when the criticism is really bad and really hard, is:
I wish I would have kept this in my computer. I should have just held on to this work and have it be mine alone.
Because sometimes I wonder:
Is it worth it to share it?
But then you feel like you’re not doing your characters a service with that—they deserve to live more fully, in someone else’s mind.
Yes, I know I sound crazy! [Laughs]
SH: No. I totally, totally understand that. I remember hearing writers talk about how their characters are almost alive, and almost have a will of their own. And I thought they were kinda full of crap [SM laughs] but there is something to it. I think that it’s a balance, though. There’s the idea of these characters that are alive in my mind, and then there’s me, the author. And I have some power to control the story, and to try and make it a strong story—but, then, the characters also have some power to say no.
SM: Yeah.
You can’t change who they are to make the story go easier.
SH: For me, writing is finding a balance between that sort of transcendental story and my own power of writing—not letting myself overwrite them too much, and not letting them overrun me.
SM: Yeah. See, I find that difficult—because, to me, you create a character, and you define them, and you make them who they are. And you get them into a shape where they are final. Their story isn’t, but they are who they are—and theydo feel very real. You can’t change who they are to make the story go easier.
So sometimes things happen in the story because my character, being who he is, can’t do anything different. I’ve written him so tightly into who he is that I cannot change his course of action now, without feeling like:
Well, that’s not in character—that’s not what he would do. There’s only one course now.
And sometimes it’s hard, when the course goes a way that’s difficult to write.
On Characters Coming To Life
SH: So how much did you know about Jacob and his future when you were writing
Twilight
?
SM: Jacob was an afterthought. He wasn’t supposed to exist in the original story. When I wrote the second half of
Twilight
first, there was no Jacob character. He started to exist about the point where I kind of hit a bit of a wall: I could not make Edward say the words
I’m a vampire.
There was no way that was ever coming out of his mouth—he couldn’t do it. And that goes back to what we were talking about with characters. You know, he had been keeping the truth about