Sometimes I want my readers to understand things about my protagonist that can\u2019t be expressed directly without destroying his image. Hook, in my Hook Runyon mystery series, is one tough dude, and I never want my readers to think otherwise. Hook\u2019s capable of doing all the things most of us want to do but are afraid to. I made him that way on purpose. I wanted him larger than life. <\/p>\n

Hook loses his arm and his girlfriend on the same day and in that order. He spends a year bumming trains and learning to survive. He\u2019s reticent, never brags, or takes credit, even when he should. He\u2019s fearless, and you damn sure wouldn\u2019t want to stick your finger in his chest. He lives in a caboose, catches bad guys, and kicks butt without notice. <\/p>\n

This is stuff we all enjoy, stuff we imagine ourselves doing. But it can make for a pretty one-dimensional personality. This is not someone you would want to be stranded with on an island. <\/p>\n

So my aim is for the reader to discover Hook\u2019s inner complexities\u2014 \u201cdiscover\u201d is the key word here. He\u2019s caring, has a keen sense of justice and a decided preference for the underdog. He prefers strong women and is intellectually curious. <\/p>\n

Turns out, there is a way to expose Hook\u2019s softer side without turning him into a weenie, and that\u2019s through the interplay with his sidekick and his dog. Sidekicks and dogs enjoy exceptions to the rules in our society, which allow for considerable latitude within their relationships. <\/p>\n

Take Hook\u2019s sidekick, Runt Wallace, for instance. He and Hook banter back and forth, not an uncommon thing among men. Through humor and sarcasm they say things to each other that could never be said in a forthright way. Their affection for each other is disguised by insults and barbs, a process often found to be curious by women. <\/p>\n

And then of course there are animals, pets, which are more emotionally accessible than humans. They are nonthreatening, neutral somehow, and you can to respond to them ways not generally permitted with other people, especially with tough guys like Hook. <\/p>\n

I learned this secret from a children\u2019s literature professor, who pointed out to me that animal characters in children\u2019s stories are typically the only ones allowed to express anger or aggression. They commit all sorts of transgressions that the rest of us can only dream about. <\/p>\n

The interactions between people and their animals can be very revealing. Watch a man with his dog, and you\u2019ve a fair notion about what kind of guy he is beneath that fa\u00e7ade. <\/p>\n

Consider Mixer, Hook\u2019s dog. He likes to fight and kill and is often in trouble. But he holds a special place in Hook\u2019s life, fills the void that\u2019s been left by too much heartache and disappointment. They live together in the caboose, travel the country, and share adventure. Their loyalty and love for each other are obvious to everyone, but no one considers Hook to be weak because of it. It\u2019s okay for a tough guy to love his dog. <\/p>\n

And of course animals can provide an endless source of amusement as well. In my book Dreams to Dust: A Tale of the Oklahoma Land Rush, a Black sergeant inherits an Indian pony. He names this pony, \u201cPony,\u201d for obvious reasons, and it\u2019s an on-again, off-again relationship, though replete with mutual respect. <\/p>\n

In the same book I introduce Flea Bag, the protagonist\u2019s dog. Flea Bag\u2019s determination is remarkable, and his movements are so slow as to be undetectable by the human eye. As a consequence, he\u2019s sooner or later able to steal everything he wants. <\/p>\n

In yet a different work, I feature a cat named Precious. He\u2019s near blind and attacks anything that moves, including his owner. Unfortunately, Precious dies, is stuffed, and eventually discarded in the trash. But he has a way of reappearing at the most inopportune times. <\/p>\n

And then there is old Blue Tongue, a cow in my book The Savage Trail. She has a foot-long blue tongue and wanders the prairie terrorizing people. It\u2019s a monk, of course, who decides to make her a milk cow for the monastery. <\/p>\n

I\u2019ve only recently completed a manuscript in which I\u2019ve a dog named Circle P. Each time a car goes by, Circle P runs in a circle at a high rate of speed, then pees\u2014like a victory dance in the end zone. <\/p>\n

Circle P has run in this circle for so long and so fast that only his ears can now be seen above ground. When asked by one of my characters, \u201cWhy don\u2019t he run in a straight line like other dogs?\u201d The owner replies, \u201cBecause he don\u2019t have to run back that way.\u201d <\/p>\n

The point here is a simple one, if not profound: Side kicks and animals provide a way for a writer to develop his main characters to their fullest, to show their \u201creal\u201d feelings and emotions. The end result is great fun for the writer, and with a little luck, the reader, as well. <\/p><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n