Simple and a Little Looney: Making “Real Life” Characters
I’m rereading The Best of Simple, by Langston Hughes, because I want to introduce it to my college freshmen. I was first introduced to this book when I was an undergrad myself. I don’t remember the professor who assigned it to me, but I do remember Simple.
He’s the kind of character that sticks with you. Hughes describes him as his “ace boy,” one of his homies, his best buddy. He points out how Simple is everybody yet nobody in particular, how in Harlem you can find a hundred Simples at every corner, someone “genial and talkative.” His full name is Jesse B. Simple. He’s a regular guy with regular problems like paying rent and girl problems, just a man who wants to relax with a cold beer, on you, might I add.
So, what’s so special about a guy like Simple? First, let me tell you about the other day; I found myself watching the Looney Tunes, and I thought to myself, these characters are really looney. They have big, distinguishable personalities with unique quirks and sayings we’ve all come to know and love. Who hasn’t cracked up to a Bugs and Daffy skit?
I found myself comparing these two archetypes, the everyman character like Simple, and the exaggerated characters like the Looney Tunes. Both are memorable, yet readers empathize and identify more with simple characters. In any one of Simple’s stories, you are pulled into a typical day in Harlem during the 1940s and 50s, and despite the different time period, readers can still relate. Simple talks about his fears of the atom bomb; his day at Orchard Beach, eating hot dogs and watching girls; stopping at the bar with his girlfriend to keep warm during a cold New York day.
Simple isn’t chasing dreams, conquering fears, or acting like a hero. Yet he stays with you. He reminds you of someone you know, and he instantly feels like a friend, because the reader is a listener, sitting with Simple, as he speaks his mind.
The way the narrator and reader listen to Simple reminds me of the way Jesus connected with people. Jesus befriended regular people, eating with them, walking with them, hanging out in their homes. He listened to their problems, even though He already knew them. Conversations weren’t about Him, a chance to brag about his miracles, complain about sinners, or gossip about the Pharisees. He made people feel seen and heard.
Writers can do the same if they befriend humanity instead of keeping an observant distance. Jesse B. Simple seems like a real person because Langston Hughes went out and engaged with people. He didn’t sit in his room and write; he was in Harlem, in the mix, vibing with the people.
This begins with a genuine conversation. Text messaging has made communication impersonal, and even phone calls seem unnecessary. I find myself avoiding conversations, often putting on do-not-disturb mode so I can read or write. While it’s important to protect your creative time, I have to make time to be a friend, to spend time on the phone with a friend, to enjoy a conversation with coworkers, or chat with my students after class. I don’t want friendships to be a means to an end, like using friends to serve as inspiration for your characters, but the truth is, connecting with humanity is important to develop a really human character. Especially one that is different from the way you think, it’s like field research. In one of Simple’s stories, the narrator is out at midnight “for literary purposes,” observing why hustlers out late at night hustle for “small change.” Hughes also mentions that the first lines of his character Simple came from a conversation he was having with a young man at the bar. Just like that, a character was born.
It sounds easy, but it isn’t. Creating characters that feel real takes effort. It may not be as fun as inventing looney characters from our wild imagination. It requires opening yourself to others. Start with your current friends, make the time to be present and truly listen to them. Then challenge yourself to befriend strangers. Strike up a conversation with someone you see regularly but never thought to talk to, like the cashier, the crossing guard, or the mailman. Keep it simple. Keep it light. And don’t be afraid to ask a “What’s up, Doc?”
copyright 2026 Janet Tamez
Let me begin, then, by saying that I never intended to become “the chicken lady” of my neighborhood. When my husband called from work one day, saying that a colleague had no further need of 4 unhatched baby chicks and did I think we could take them in for a while, I said “Sure” simply because I like animals and couldn’t stand the thought of those little chickies being – literally – thrown away. That was about the extent of my thinking.
My little flock did not choose each other, but they’ve formed themselves into a community nevertheless. Although they are all different types of hens, they get along. Yes, there is certainly a pecking order (Sandy is at the top) but there is still room for everyone, despite their various temperaments. For example, Pebbles, our black Australorp, tends to get broody and take over the nesting box, while Pepper, a light Brahma and the smallest of the five chickens, likes to make up for her small size by being feisty and pecking everyone, including the dogs. Occasionally there are some ruffled feathers but most of the time there are contented, chatty clucks and check-ins, and at the end of the day they all go into the hen house and sleep peacefully together. If I’ve had a hard day with a difficult person, I really notice their ability to not hold a grudge and to let bygones be bygones. It reminds me that I might not always want to spend a lot of time around a certain person or persons, but I don’t have to take everything personally and I don’t have to carry resentment with me every day. (And I’m always somewhat flabbergasted that the hens consider our two pitties part of their community!)