What makes a good story? What elements are most important when crafting a story? There are no simple answers to these questions, as it really depends upon the kind of story being told, and what serves as its focus. For me, though, the root of all good stories lies with the characters. Here I will outline how I determine character quality and how I craft characters for my own stories, because in my conception all stories must begin with compelling characters. Ultimately everything else falls into place around them.

Now, it is a fact that not all stories are character-centric, focusing on an individual or group of individuals who form the core of the story. The works of Annie Proulx, for instance, often have weakly defined characters. This is not an inherent weakness, however, since the “character” of her stories focuses more on the environment the characters live in rather than who they are and what they’re doing.

Annie Proulx, 1999

Writers who take this approach often consider individual people to be largely inconsequential to the greater scheme of things, and they are generally powerless to affect great change. This is a philosophical choice a writer must make, and I cannot argue with Ms. Proulx’s success, but I will say that it is a style that I personally dislike. The best stories, the ones people come back to and cherish the most, I feel, are the ones that possess a character that draws us in, that allows us to connect to the story, rather than to observe a tableau where largely faceless characters struggle against inexorable fate. These are the timeless stories, such as with Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird, Sethe and Denver in Beloved, and Abel in House Made of Dawn. These stories allow the reader to delve in to the minds and lives of people as they learn and develop, allowing the reader to connect directly to the story.

It is also no mistake that most works of popular fiction also focus so strongly on characterization. It’s human nature, voyeurism, the ability to look in on other people’s lives and observe what they do. Why do you think biography, memoir, and reality TV have become so popular in recent years?

Harper Lee, 1960

They’ve been around in one form or another for a long time, but the trend has become stronger more recently, and writerswho wish to be published in the here and now would do well to know what people want to read. They want characters to bond with. Lords know that even a weak story, plagued with iffy writing (Twilight) can survive on the backs of characters that allow readers to connect with them. This is especially true of serial stories, where the same characters appear again and again.

For instance, Terry Prattchet has constructed dozens of characters that regularly appear off and on in his Discworld novels, such as the incompetent wizard Rincewind, and the cunning Commander Samuel Vimes. Jim Butcher has built a career on the back of his powerful but notoriously unlucky wizard, Harry Dresden, in The Dresden Files. These are characters that compel readers to return again and again, to see what trouble they have gotten themselves into now.

Jim Butcher, 2000

All the aforementioned characters share something very special in common. They are fairly average people. Some may be possessed of extraordinary abilities, but at their core they are people. Flawed, at times vulnerable, and their concerns and worries are not so dissimilar from our own. Often times they are down on their luck, or put in untenable situations, or have significant hurdles to overcome. Everybody loves an underdog. This trait is not universal, but it is common enough. Even the most competent or powerful characters, such as the legendary Sherlock Holmes or superheroes such as Superman, Batman, Spiderman, etc, possess the same basic human traits and must overcome significant odds in order to succeed. The struggle to persevere is central to every single character and story ever written. Without struggle there is no story to begin with. And without a connecting character or characters it is often difficult to become connected with the struggles in the story. People like stories about other people – especially extraordinary people.

When it comes to my own writing I usually begin with a single character, a primary protagonist. I get to know this character usually by constructing a character philosophy, answering certain questions that help me get into the character’s head. How did he/she grow up? What interests him/her? If confronted with X situation, what will he/she do? Then, sometimes, I compose fictional journal entries for the character, giving the character a written voice. This allows me to delve into the head of the character, especially if the story is told from a third person perspective, where it is more difficult to get into individual characters minds without breaking the barrier between narrator and character. In first-person perspective stories it is easier to get into the character’s head, but the philosophical questionnaire still guides me to think from the character’s perspective, allowing me to distance myself stylistically from the character while still engaging with him or her in writing. This may seem a little overly-complex, but think of it in terms of being an actor, getting into character. Once I know who this character is, I can then build a story around him/her, or them in the case of an ensemble group.

The hope is that in the end the characters feel very natural, and in the case of groups of characters, that their interactions among each other are consistent with their personal philosophies and manners of thought. In the end, though, it saves on editing time for me. When I first began I simply wrote, letting the chips fall as they may. Some writers can get away with this, but I suppose I’m a bit of a scatter-brain, so these character outlines allow me to maintain style, voice, and consistency throughout the first draft, limiting how often I have to go back and alter previous sections where I find a character “slipping,” or simply fading into the background (unless the character in question is meant to do so). When building a character in outline I first envisage basic physical appearance, age (not always specific, but generally in the age range I intend the story to focus on, such as Late teen/Early twenties), and then answer certain questions in-character. Most of my outlines read a lot like a personality test, determining what actions they would take if, say, they were confronted by a physical threat to themselves or a friend, and then a stranger. The outlines are never long, but serve me as a touchstone as I craft the story.

While it is not universally true, characters will often be of a similar age to their intended audience. For those that don’t, their mentality, actions, and the situations they find themselves in will be relatable to a certain age-range. Take Rincewind of Terry Prattchet’s Discworld novels. He is older, never determined specifically but he is likely in his mid-late forties, but the situations he finds himself in as the universe’s punching bag, running through a story filled with socio-political pop-culture references makes him a character more appealing to a 20+ year old age bracket, whereas Scout of To Kill a Mockingbird is a child, but the story is certainly not childish. It may be seen from the point of view of a child, but her story is one that has touched people from their teens and into their twilight years, since her story is a universal one. Other characters have a definite intended audience, the largely teen-based fans of Twilight for example, but they still share qualities that appeal to women in their twenties, thirties, or forties. Truth to tell I can only guess why in this case, but such is the nature of voyeurism and the desire to live vicariously through another. If you want to attract the widest possible audience, this is an important lesson to learn for commercial publishing: the characters you create must reflect a target audience, but still be accessible to those outside that audience. This is even more important if the characters you create will appear again and again, sufficient to attract a following.

One final element to character design that I feel is important is to view the world in which the characters operate as a character in and of itself. This is especially true in the genres I operate in most – Science Fiction and Fantasy. The world has a way of working all its own, and defining how it works is vital to building a story that remains consistent throughout. In The Dresden Files for instance, Jim Butcher builds his world-character from a combination of various myths, legends, and histories. In the world of Harry Dresden, Earth has languished under the yoke of the Age of Reason, but in the modern times magic, the supernatural, and the many creatures of folklore and legend are beginning to return in force and to become more noticeable. Most people still ignore the strange and unusual, since it defies the logic we as a species have nurtured for the past few centuries, with the rise of science. The world operates by unique laws, governing how magic is used (a la the White Council and its rules regarding the use of magic) to how practitioners of magic interact with the modern world (such as shorting out complex machines, frying computers by simply being near them, etc). In Terry Prattchet’s Discworld, the world itself is actually the most important character, the one major constant in all the many stories that occur on it. A disc, resting on the backs of four elephants that in turn stand on the back of a giant turtle, floating through the vastness of space. The unique play of magic, light, and forces on the Disc determine how the characters operate, and what stories occur.

Terry Pratchett and Stephen Briggs, 2004

What a particular character is like is of course important, but understanding how they live in their world, especially when that world differs so much from the real one, is even more important, since it will guide how they operate and how the story unfolds. Once that is done the story itself is comparatively easy, especially since all stories ultimately boil down to two things: Stranger enters the scene and stuff happens, or the character goes abroad and stuff happens. Frankly, when it comes down to it, that is the operating system of all stories ever told, with the only defining factors being what specifically is happening, and what the characters do about it. Building the world and building the characters, really getting inside their heads, and then working on the story or stories has for me been the most effective method of writing with consistency and focus. It is not a method that works for everyone, and it might seem overly mechanical, but I recommend giving it a try, experimenting with it, and seeing how it works for you. And hey, once you have a whole universe built-up, the possibilities for new characters and stories is endless.

Cheers, everyone, and good luck in all your future writing endeavors.