No, You Can't Be in My Book (Brian Katcher)

 

In my first book, Playing With Matches, I had no trouble coming up with characters. The protagonist was myself at seventeen, his teachers were my teachers, and his friends were my friends.

If I had to do it all over again, I don't think I'd use real people. While my old friends were quick to recognize our old teachers, a lot of them assumed I'd based a character on them. And whenever they asked, I'd just reply 'Yeah. That was you.'

It's risky when you include people you like in books. In my novel Everyone Dies in the End, I based a minor character on a friend of mine. They were both youth pastors, both smart and sarcastic, and it saved me from having to come up with someone for a five page scene. My real life friend was appreciative, and still brings it up.

The thing is, he's not my only interesting friend. And every time I had a new book out, others in that group would drop hints, wondering if I'd immortalized them on the page this time. 

I suppose it would be easy to do. Every book needs waiters and friends of friends and funny cab drivers, etc. Why not just give someone a similar sounding name and cast them as the funny teacher?

Well, all characters (and humans) are inherently flawed. Frank wants to see himself as Frink, the zany store clerk who once jump started the main character's car in college during a blizzard, and not ank-Fray, the zany store clerk who hides cameras in the women's changing room. People like to see themselves, but only in positive light.

On the other hand, you can always put your enemies into a story without fear. So when Tim 'Extra Paperwork' R. falls into the gonad crushing machine, well, who gave who the negative employee review, eh?