A true nature is a gloomy monolith, sort of like that old black

Opening Scene – Narrated by Host

The soft hum of the city outside was a distant echo, muted by the thick windows of the small, cluttered writing studio. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, casting shadows across stacks of paper and books that were scattered across the table. Jack sat at his desk, his fingers tapping on the edge of the table, staring blankly at the unfinished manuscript before him. His thoughts, as usual, seemed miles away, tangled in the complexity of his story.

Jeeny stood by the doorframe, watching him for a moment before stepping inside, her presence gentle, yet knowing. She could tell when Jack was stuck—when the words didn’t come as easily, when the world outside felt more distracting than the world he was trying to create on the page.

Jeeny: “You’re lost in your own head again. What’s going on?”

Jack let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he ran a hand through his hair.

Jack: “I was reading something by Walter Kirn. He said, ‘A true nature is a gloomy monolith, sort of like that old black rotary phone that I had to sing 'Happy Birthday' to Grandpa on. But novelists, damn us, still need true natures - so we can give them to our protagonists. And so readers can vaguely predict how they'll behave when we trap them in 'situations' that they can't IM their way out of.’ And it hit me—I’ve been thinking about my characters and how difficult it is to write people that feel real, like they have a true nature, a core that defines them.”

Jeeny tilted her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips as she moved to sit beside him. She knew Jack’s struggles with his writing all too well, but she also knew that sometimes, the best answers came from the messiest moments.

Jeeny: “So you’re feeling like your characters don’t have enough depth? Like they don’t have that true nature that makes them react in real, believable ways?”

Jack: “Exactly. It’s like… I keep thinking about how hard it is to create that kind of internal consistency. Kirn’s right, a true nature is a solid, predictable thing. But as a writer, how do you make that work without it feeling like a cliché? I want my characters to feel like real people, with all the messiness and unpredictability of real life. But then, how do I create the situations they can’t just IM their way out of, where they can’t just tap a few keys and fix everything?”

Host: The air in the studio felt heavier now, the weight of the question hanging between them. Outside, the sound of the city continued, but inside, everything was still. Jeeny’s gaze softened, her understanding of Jack’s struggle clear as she sat in silence for a moment, letting his words settle.

Jeeny: “I think that’s the thing, though, right? We want our characters to be real, but in order to be real, they have to have that core—their true nature. Like… people we know in real life. They don’t always react the way we expect them to. They surprise us, they make mistakes, but in the end, there’s something about them that feels solid, like we could guess how they’d act in a difficult situation. Even if it’s messy, we know them.”

Jack nodded, his fingers now drumming lightly on the table as he processed what she said.

Jack: “Yeah, but that true nature thing—it's a bit of a paradox, right? We want characters who feel unpredictable but also somehow predictable, people who feel alive but not too perfect. We want them to be able to surprise us, to grow, to evolve, but still hold onto something unchanging that makes them who they are.”

Jeeny: “I think it’s because, at the core of every person, there is something stable. It’s not about perfection, it’s about that unshakable part of who they are that defines how they react to the world. It’s their history, their values, their beliefs—the things that make them who they are even when everything around them is falling apart.”

Host: The silence between them deepened, as if both Jack and Jeeny were reflecting on the idea that had just been laid out in front of them. The notion of a “true nature” wasn’t something fixed—it was the delicate balance between consistency and change, a blend of internal foundation and the messy unpredictability of real life. As Jack sat there, he felt a quiet understanding settle in. Maybe it wasn’t about trying to force his characters into neat boxes. It was about letting them breathe, letting them grow, while still maintaining that core essence that made them who they were.

Jack: “So, maybe it’s not about trying to create perfect characters. Maybe it’s about allowing them to be messy, allowing them to surprise us, but still keeping that inner core intact. That’s what makes them believable, right? The contradictions, the flaws, the things they do that make sense only because of who they are at the core.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. The messy parts are what make them human, and the true nature is what anchors them. You can throw your characters into the worst situations, the most impossible situations, but as long as their true nature is consistent, they’ll react in ways that feel real. And the reader will feel like they know them, like they can predict them, even if they don’t always know exactly what they’ll do next.”

Host: The room was quieter now, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air. Jack stared at the manuscript in front of him, the words beginning to shift, beginning to form in a new light. It wasn’t about creating characters who were perfect or predictable at every turn. It was about creating people who were true to their nature, people whose reactions made sense, even in chaos. People who, despite everything, still held that core that made them who they were.

Jack: “You’re right. It’s about finding that balance. About letting my characters have room to grow, but not so much room that they lose themselves. I guess that’s the art of it—creating depth and surprise while still honoring the essence of who they are.”

Jeeny: “And once you find that, once you really know your characters, you’ll be able to put them into any situation and trust that they’ll react in a way that feels true. You’ll know them better than anyone else, and your readers will, too.”

Climax and Reconciliation

Jack sat back in his chair, the weight of his thoughts lifting as the pieces of the puzzle began to click into place. It wasn’t about forcing his characters into situations where they behaved predictably. It was about understanding who they were at their core—knowing their essence—and then allowing them to surprise both him and the readers as they navigated the challenges before them.

Host: The quiet in the studio was now filled with a sense of clarity. The words on the page no longer seemed like an obstacle to overcome, but a canvas ready to be filled with characters who were both real and unpredictable. Jack’s mind felt lighter, and he knew that, with this new understanding, his characters would come alive in ways he hadn’t imagined before.