Supporting Cast

Which secondary character have you created that you find the most intriguing and memorable? Please share the scene where they appeared and outline the impact they had on the story and on you.

by Dietrich

Secondary characters play significant roles by adding interesting counterpoint to the main characters. They bring along their own subplots, back stories and baggage. Like the main characters, I love writing them and watching them come to life. Here are two who I’d like to introduce you to. 

Wren McKenna’s from my current novel, Nobody from Somewhere. She’s a teen running from an abusive foster home. She’s tough as nails, street savvy and plays well off the main character, Fitch Henry Haut, an aging and ailing retired cop who sets out to save her from a couple of crooks trying to drag her into their SUV. Maybe by the end of the story, readers get a sense that maybe it’s Wren saving him from himself. Here’s the scene where we first meet her.   

The Snows put Wren up on the Murphy bed in the main-floor den. Pulled down, the bed left a foot and a half between the desk and a shelf of books, mostly self-help books: The power of this, the art of that. Growing rich and awakening giants. Titles like Unfuc*ing Yourself, and Not Giving a Sh*t, with lots of astericks. A grocery-store print above the pullout, a still life with fruit and purplish shadows.

Being next to the kitchen, Wren could hear the hum and rattle of the old Frigidaire, keeping her company on those nights when sleep dodged her. Propped against her pillow in the dark, she was thinking about her mom. 

The third night she tiptoed in the dark past the noisy fridge, crossing the cold tiles, heading to the powder room in her undies, needing to pee. Kevin sat in the dark at the kitchen nook, a short drink of whisky in front of him. Clicking on the light, he smiled, eyes sweeping up her bare legs. Wren covering up and hurrying to the bathroom, saying, “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Kevin was smiling, leaving the light on and waiting when she hurried back to her room. Finishing his drink, Kevin came to her door, whispering from the other side, “Nighty night.” The stairs creaking as he went back to his room, switching off the lights.

Sitting on the bed, Wren looked around the dark room for something like a weapon, one of the self-help books could do the trick. If he came through that door, she’d bonk him with the corner of Unfuc* Yourself. But, he didn’t try it, not that night. Nothing but the sound of the clunking Frigidaire.

Next, I’d like to introduce Isaac Levine. He shows up in The Get, which will be released by ECW on June 6th. He’s a senior, though you wouldn’t know it — just a rock of a guy who’s obviously done a lot of living. He’s a respected jeweler and father to Paulina, and he’s just added beefed-up security doors to his jewelry shop as we meet him.

“We have insurance, Poppa,” Paulina said, still on about the mantrap, looking at the doors.

“And now lower premiums,” Isaac said. “Pays for itself in five years, six tops. You’re going to see.” He waved a hand in the air like it was already done.

She pointed to the front, saying, “And what kind of name is that, mantrap?”

“A good name. Exactly what it does, it traps.”

“Traps your customers?” She laughed, taking the wrapped sandwiches from the bag. “Don’t stand there, buy something. Then you can leave.”

Isaac loved her sense of humor. Told himself it’s what kept him going. Pinching a dill spear, he took a bite, then tried changing the subject. “This from Mica’s?”

“Where else?”

“Got to admit, the boy works hard, he’ll give the rest a run for their money. Mark it down.” Isaac looked at the sandwiches she took from the bag, piled high with meat, a half inch extra for family.

“Everyone knows you, Poppa. Isaac the Jeweler.” Paulina not swayed from the conversation, saying, “Who would even think of robbing you?”

He smiled at her: beautiful and smart, but maybe a touch naïve. Saying, “And you with a gun in your purse.”

“It’s a derringer, Poppa. A lot of Jewelers carry these days. It’s almost stylish.”

“But, you do the books, schatz.”

“Think the crooks know it?”

“And you can shoot?”

“Yes, I can shoot, and stop changing the subject, and tell me, how much?”

And his smile widened. Yes, just like his Helen. God, he missed her, but it felt like she was living in this girl, a mirror image of his darling wife.

“You look at me like that, Poppa — like I’m your little girl — I already know it’s too expensive.” She folded her arms, trying to look stern. Paulina steadfast as a hound, going to find out what the mantrap cost.

“Eat your lunch, ketsele,” he said, smiling. “Not like I can send the doors back.”

“I’ll have to enter it in the books.”

“Yes, you’ll find out in time, but now, let’s eat.” He finished the spear of pickle, tapping the glass display of bracelets and necklaces. “Let me show you the Buccellati, just came in. And here, the Cartier Panther, white gold and emerald eyes. What do you think?”

“I think I’m going to eat.” She didn’t look at the case, her eyes going from her sandwich back to those doors. Saying, “I mean, if we can still afford food.” Adding, “But, you know I will find out.”

“Of course you will, schatz.”