J. Michael Straczynski has a new biography out. He’s been someone I’ve followed, knowing and unknowingly, through the years. The first time I recognized his name showing up was in episodes of The Real Ghostbusters.
But one thing will always be tied to JMS in my memory: Babylon 5 and its ill-fated successor, Crusade. The shows still set me thinking even twenty-some years after I heard the first rumor about its development and saw some early sketches designed to sell the show to prospective networks.
What lingers are the questions:
Who are you?
What do you want?
Where are you going?
Who do you serve, and who do you trust?
These questions dominate the show, and specifically the titles of Crusade. They’re also the building blocks of characters, large and small. And as I’ve been turning these questions over in my head for ages, especially after seeing so many writing guides asking you to fill out “character sheets” which ask similar questions. All of them lead up to this keystone question – the one every writer tries to answer when the bring a character into a story.
Who are you?
As much as the Shadows would disagree, that is the core question we ask about a character as a reader. It’s both the alpha and omega. For writers, all other questions are part of answering “Who are you?” The add depth to an initially shallow response. And each answer defines a person a bit more.
Let’s take a few of these questions, and feel free to answer them in Gary Cole’s voice. (“Has anyone seen my bigger knife?” Man is a damn national treasure.)
Who are you? – Again, how someone answers this question will say a lot. Most folks will say, “I’m Biff Grointhrust!” But it’s when they add something to it, something that colors their identity. “I’m Biff Grointhrust, Captain of the Earth Defense League.” Or “Hey, I’m Trish. Just a writer…” If you’ve read my short story in THE DEATH OF ALL THINGS, you know that Trish is a bit more than just a writer. What a person does not say when asked about who they are can speak as loudly as Captain Grointhrust.
What do you want? – This question is loaded with goals and desires. “I want to become a writer.” “I want to have it all – a career and a life as a house husband.” It interrogates what drives a person. What motivates them. But I also like to pair it with another question:
What do you fear? – Fear rules us as much as desire. “I want to become a writer… but I’m afraid I’ll be a mediocre failure, like my parents said I’d be.” “I want to have it all – a career and a life as a house husband. But I’m afraid I won’t be good at either, leaving me jobless and alone.” Fear drives us. It makes us question what we want and even who we are. Yet, our fears are a part of us. No one is a fully rounded person if they don’t have something they fear.
Where are you going? – It’s an odd question to ask about a person, a character, but it says a lot. Let’s take the scale. A character can answer it in a small way – “I’m just going to the bowling alley, dude” – or in a more metaphysical way. “I’m going anywhere that gives me a chance to practice my photography and philosophy.” It builds on the “What do you want/fear?” because it shows how a person is responding to the tug-of-war between the two needs. A character may want to become a writer, but their fear keeps them in a safe zone. So, the answer may be, “I’m going to work at this job I hate because I need life insurance.”
Who do you serve and who do you trust? – They questions are asked together, because the answers may not be the same. And the contrast is important. If “Serve” offends the character’s sensibility, that says something. “Hey, I don’t serve anyone. I work for the GRU. And I trust no one.” Or what if they come back with, “I serve Bob Dobbs, and I trust in slack!” That certainly tells you a lot. Especially if that service is not returned with any kind of reward, and if the trust is broken.
All of these questions spiral back to the big one: Who are you?
“Hi, I’m Trish. I’m a phantom, and a writer, and that’s all I want to be. I’m happy traveling and writing about the lives of dead folk. But thanks to certain abilities, I’m afraid I’ll never be just another phantom. Right now, going to the site of horrific crime against the living – one which may be my fault. Supposedly, I’m acting as a consultant for the local law, but as much as I trust my friends, I don’t know if I trust myself…”
Not a half bad lesson, JMS. Now, if only I could absorb the lesson you got from Harlan Ellison over the phone…

