I’m attending a conference this week that unfortunately has been a bit hit and miss with the relevance of its content (to me. Others are much happier). This has provided me with an excellent opportunity to catch up on some reading, put some words to iPad towards my Nanowrimo word count (not going well, I’m afraid) and people-watch.

Usually, I don’t do this very often because I’m worried that I’ll catch the eye of the person I’m looking at and what will ensue is an argument, some other confrontation or (god forbid) human interaction of a non-homicidal nature. However, a conference is perfect, especially when sitting in a large lecture theatre and the chance of the person presenting picking you out in the crowd is relatively slim. Unless of course you’re wearing bright clothes, a big red wig and a sign that says, “I’m watching you.”

I’ve found it interesting to watch people’s ticks when they’re presenting and how these play out with the precision that would make a nuclear-clock envious. I presented a paper as well and I’m sure there were things that I repeated such as shifting from one leg to another, clasping my hands in front of me whenever they weren’t gesticulating to the projector screen, or speaking very, VERY fast.

One of the presenters had the habit of swaying slightly, moving from left to right as if his body followed the lines on his paper like an old-fashioned typewriter staccatoing across the page. He touched his face but only in a particular way by putting the fingers of his right hand to the side of his nose, near the bridge, and swiping it across his cheek underneath his eye. Unfortunately, this fascinated me more than the topic being discussed.

Another person had a particular affect when she talked. Though she was British, and visiting from the UK to present, her accent wasn’t immediately identifiable as being from England. She could have just been another ten-pound POM. However, whenever she came to a word that ended in -ing, she would clip it short and stop on the n sound. She also had a hand/face action where she’d close her hands to form what I think of as half the letter B in AUSLAN (Australian sign language) and hold it to her cheek.

As well as these personal traits, which I found fascinating and now wish I’d paid more attention to in others so I could use them for my characters, there were also types of people. Usually in an industry we can classify the type of person who works with us, most simply by the way they dress and their age, but then from what comes out of their mouths.

I attended one session where I picked up on the type of person a particular woman was within seconds of her speaking. I admit this is terribly judgemental and dismissive but the more she talked, the more I realised my assumption was correct. This type of person irritates me to the hilt and I spent a good portion of time trying to define what it is about her that riled me so and how I could translate that. I wanted to record some of the things she said but refrained as this session was one I was interested in. I can remember her face, the expression, the tone of her voice. I’ll go write it down so I don’t forget.

I think this demonstrates that while noting these particular character traits is fine, trying to turn them into a cohesive and intelligible description that a reader can understand can be difficult. Then again, that’s what the game is all about; conveying thoughts from the author’s mind to the reader’s so they can comprehend a little of what you were trying to get at.

And of course, picking up these unique traits helps to flesh out a character and turn him or her from the stereotypic and banal to the fresh, original and even more identifiable.

Two more days to go. I wonder what other gems I’ll find.