Barney, our own personal Scrooge.
Though many retail stores have had their tinsel up since Labor Day, I’m a one-holiday-at-a-time kind of person. Halloween and Thanksgiving both get their due in my house before we move on to Christmas. But now that Thanksgiving’s over and the leftovers are in the fridge, it’s full speed ahead to Christmas for me!
Ever since I was a kid, Christmas books—even more than Christmas movies—have been my one of my favorite things about the holiday. When I was little, we had a big basket of picture books and chapter books that we set out every year and read from daily. At least once, my little brother and I got busted reading Christmas books together in the wee hours of Christmas morning, too excited about Santa to sleep.
My favorite Christmas book: Scrooge. Our copy of A Christmas Carol was a watered-down version of the original, written for kids to read on their own, but it hit all the key points, and we read it over and over and over every Christmas season. We saw productions of A Christmas Carol and watched different movie versions over the years, and eventually I read the original, but Scrooge remains my favorite.
Today, I realize that Scrooge (or A Christmas Carol—whichever you prefer) is more than just a fantastic holiday story. It actually provides great examples for authors of some of the most common advice we hear about writing.
Character Arc
When we talk about character development, the key question is whether the protagonist evolves as a result of the events that occur in the story. And there’s no clearer example of a complete character arc than Ebenezer Scrooge.
When the story opens, he’s a solitary old miser, cruel to London’s poor, cold to his own family, and unwilling to provide his employees enough coal to keep warm on a frigid winter day. But by the end, he’s transformed entirely, giving freely of his wealth, making friends, and reconnecting with his family. And that transformation is a direct result of his journeys with the spirits. Scrooge’s entire outlook on life has shifted—he’s gone from wanting nothing more than to be left alone, to embracing family, friendship, and connections, and we can draw a direct line from cause to effect.
Whether you’re writing fiction or memoir, ask yourself how your main character changes from beginning to end (or is going to change, if you’re still in the planning stages). How have her values, objectives, and perspective shifted as a direct result of what happens to her—or what she does—throughout the story?
Setting
A Christmas Carol is set in Victorian England, and that’s not an arbitrary choice. Dickens set his story in a city and a time period in which the chasm between wealth and poverty was wide and obvious and dramatic. Dickens established Christmas as a time when that chasm could be bridged—rich reaching out to poor and poor setting aside their trouble to take part in the festivities—and to do so, he brought London, itself, to life:
For, the people who were shovelling away on the housetops were jovial and full of glee; calling out to one another from the parapets, and now and then exchanging a facetious snowball—better-natured missile far than many a wordy jest—laughing heartily if it went right and not less heartily if it went wrong. The poulterers’ shops were still half open, and the fruiterers’ were radiant in their glory. There were great, round, pot-bellied baskets of chestnuts, shaped like the waistcoats of jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors, and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence.
Much more than Scrooge and his ghosts, the novel focuses on all of London, using the setting to vividly evoke the sounds and smells and sights of Christmas. It’s Dickens’ setting that allows rich and poor to come together for Christmas—and allows Scrooge to undergo his transformation. In fact, A Christmas Carol is largely credited with establishing Christmas standards and traditions as, according to The Guardian and other sources, the holiday hadn’t truly taken shape by the time the novel was released.
Basically, the early Victorians were unsure how a rural festival like Yuletide could be celebrated by busy city-folk in the industrial age—and Dickens took it upon himself to tell them.
A Christmas Carol celebrates Christmas as though it were an immutable cornerstone of civilised society, as though the customs of the Cratchit household were eternal and universal, but this was far from the case.
So, as you’re creating your book’s setting—whether it’s a fantastical world or realistic—consider how it can be more than an arbitrary geographical marker. How can your book’s world have a measurable impact on the story?
Signposting
Finally, A Christmas Carol is a masterclass in signposting, which is a technique I work on most often with nonfiction authors. Signposting is simply letting readers know what they’re getting into, in broad strokes, at least, by offering them linguistic roadmaps and signage to show them where they’re going and remind them where they’ve been. This helps readers track an author’s argument and allows them to focus on the meat of the story rather than the logistics.
And, again, A Christmas Carol offers a great example. Jacob Marley tells Scrooge early on that he will be visited by three ghosts, letting readers know upfront what they can expect from the story. And Scrooge refers back to that warning from Marley as each ghost appears. “Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?” he asks when the first spirit appears, reminding us that this appearance goes right along with Marley’s promise. And to the ghost of Christmas Present, he says, “Conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now. To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it.” This brief recap of the previous visit keeps readers on track, and a similar, though one-sided, conversation with the silent third ghost does the same, reminding us of the pattern we’ve seen unfold and previewing what’s to come:
“I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?” said Scrooge.
The Spirit answered not, but pointed downward with its hand.
“You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,” Scrooge pursued. “Is that so, Spirit?”
In your own writing, especially in nonfiction, it’s important to use similar techniques to help readers catch—and hang onto—your train of thought. Ask yourself what you’re already doing, and what you can do better, to help readers follow along.
As you reread (or re-watch) A Christmas Carol this year, pay careful attention to the devices Dickens uses to create a powerful character arc, an active setting, and signposts to guide readers along Scrooge’s journey. Let me know your thoughts—and share your favorite Christmas stories—in the comments below!