Logo

When writing a novel, how can a character be developed well, but QUICKLY?

15.06.2025 07:38

When writing a novel, how can a character be developed well, but QUICKLY?

“I don’t know. Partying. Going to a pub. Anything besides sitting on the couch reading…” She squinted. “What the hell are you reading?”

“No, about the cat. You don’t need a cat. You remember what happened to your spider plant, right?”

“Perv.”

What does it mean when a guy says he doesn't want to ruin the friendship? Is he rejecting me or is there another explanation? Why would a guy choose not to risk the friendship if he has feelings for me?

Essentially, what you do is show the character:

“Tart!”

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

Why am I tired all the time?

Create a context between this character and other characters.

Here’s how we presented the character Claire when she was introduced, which the agent particularly singled out:

“From the look of you, if you try to sleep now, you’ll spend the next three hours hanging onto your bed trying to stop the world spinning. Since you’re not going to sleep anyway, you might as well keep me company.”

Is it okay for my husband to help other ladies without telling me?

“Well, maybe if you’d wear more clothes, they wouldn’t feel so cold. Hussy!”

The agent had only one bad thing to say (the synopsis was crap; writing synopses is hard!), but praised the characterization and particularly how well we introduced a character’s personality quickly.

“Yes way. It’s washing itself under the street light. Uh-oh, I think it spotted me. It knows I’m watching it. I swear it’s looking at me.”

My ex moved on so fast. How can I overcome the pain?

Engaging in conversation that also shows something about their intelligence, personality, wit (or lack thereof); and

“Nary a cute boy in sight.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t spend all day reading—” May prodded the book with its garishly-coloured cover with her foot. “Bizarre comic book porn…”

Why do women like black men?

Doing something they enjoy, that expresses their personality, and that is in some way unusual or noteworthy;

After Eunice and I finished London Under Veil, I entered the first chapter in a contest at a convention where you could submit something and have it critiqued by a professional book agent.

“So you didn’t meet any cute boys at the club tonight?” Claire called as she bustled about the small kitchen.

How do I get fit at home?

“Yep!” Claire chirped. “There’s this schoolboy, see, and he’s homeless, so he lives in this boarding house that used to be a hot springs bathhouse, which is cheap because it’s haunted, so he decides—”

“Damn straight. So get to it! This time next week, I want to hear some moans coming through that wall.”

“But they’re cold!”

Why do atheists not love a G-d that does not stop punishing them harder and harder in this world and the next until they surrender to Him?

In the kitchen, Claire set out a battered pair of mugs: May’s black, with “PEBKAC: Problem Exists Between Keyboard and Chair” in white letters; Claire’s white, with “This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays” in dark blue. She carried both mugs into the living room. “A moggie followed you home? Is this some weird Internet slang I’m not current on?”

“You need some tea!”

“May! You’re home late! Early, I mean. Well, I mean, it’s early in the morning, but you’re home before I expected. Er, after. Before?”

End of an era: Space Launch Complex 37 gets demolished - Spectrum News 13

“No way.”

“It’s not looking at you.”

Do that and you can ground your characters quite quickly.

How would you advertise if you wanted to be a "tour guide" who can take you through the dark web while warning you what not to look at and not to click on?

“I need to do laundry.”

“You know what? Never mind,” May said. “I am way, way too drunk to be having this conversation.”

“You don’t need a cat. You can’t take care of a cat. You can’t take care of a ficus.” Claire flopped on the other side of the sofa and wriggled her feet beneath May.

What I have noticed is nearly every girl I try to connect with whom reject me are in their early 20s why is that the case?

“Fine.” May collapsed into the warm spot Claire had just vacated.

“About wearing more clothes? How am I supposed to catch any fish if I don’t show off the bait?”

“I try not to, but thank you for reminding me. I know I don’t need a cat. I don’t want a cat. What would I do with a cat?”

There's a new blood test for Alzheimer's. Here's everything you need to know about it. - Live Science

“Nope, I mean a cat followed me home. A black cat, to be exact. All the way from the club. Probably still out there, for all I know.”

May pushed Claire’s feet away. Claire rose to peer out the window. “Huh. It’s still there.”

“Cute girls?”

What would it take for you to consider yourself a "Swiftie" like Flavor Flav?

“Claire, I—”

Claire sat back down, legs tucked elegantly beneath her. “You are looking a bit sloppy,” she said, inspecting May through narrowed eyes.

“Thanks. You’re looking pretty ratty yourself. Have you been in that bathrobe all day?”

What sexual experience did you have at a highway rest area?

“Number one, it’s not porn, it’s ecchi, and number two, why would I waste a perfectly good Saturday doing anything else?” Claire pulled at her tea and sighed. “The only thing that could make this day better is if you'd come home with some cute boy, so that after you kicked him out tomorrow I could live vicariously through you.”

May studied the black and white comic panels. “Oh, my. She looks…anatomically implausible. What is she doing to that poor man? Wait, are those cat ears?”

They both burst out laughing. “I’m right, though,” Claire went on.

What did your sister do to you that you can never forget?

“I know! That’s why I’m putting them under you!”

“Exactly.”

“None of those either. Look upon the wasteland that is my sex life, and see that it is barren. Naught but a moggie followed me home.”

“Yuuna and the Haunted Hot Springs!” Claire turned the book around.

“Why is that always your first suggestion? I do not need some tea. It’s three o’clock in the morning! If I have tea, I’ll never get to sleep.”

“I’m serious!” Claire said. “It’s staring straight at me.” She let the curtain fall. “Weird.”

“Exactly.”

“Hang on, are they playing ping-pong?”

“I’m glad my sex life is so entertaining.”

“They are! He broke the rules of the boarding house by petting this character while she was in cat form, so they invoke the ancient rules of single combat via ping-pong, and—”

“It’s a cat. All cats are weird.” May sipped from her mug, inhaling the warmth. She closed her eyes. The room spun. She opened them again. “Ugh. I think I drank too much.”

“Claire! Why are you still up?”

“I’m just a fan of your catch and release program.”

May yelped. “Hey! Your feet are cold!”

Claire, one of May’s three flatmates, former university roommate, and best friend in all the world, shrugged expansively. “It’s a Saturday night. What else would I be doing?”