TOO MUCH PLOT HEADER

How to Tell if Your Story Has Too Much Plot, Not Enough Character

too much plotCan a story have too much plot?

It might surprise you (especially if you’re a regular reader of the site), but the answer is absolutely, yes.

Implicit in the question of too much plot is the idea that a story should have more of something else. Usually that something else is character. This is where we find the well-entrenched battleground of “plot vs. character.”

It’s unfortunate these two crucial ingredients of story are often presented as exclusive opposites—bitter rivals who can barely stand each other—because the discussion at the heart of “plot vs. character” is much more nuanced. As you probably know if you’ve spent any time on the site, I dislike the whole structure of the “plot vs. character” discussion. Too often, it’s presented as a simplistic either/or paradigm that demands a clear winner: either plot or character must be the undisputed Monarch of Story.

Ultimately, what that argument is really about is a style of writing. Those arguing for more plot are usually arguing for more conventional, often genre fiction; those arguing for more character are usually arguing for more interior-oriented, often experimental, literary fiction. That’s a discussion for another day, but suffice it that both types of story almost inevitably require both plot and character.

As we’ve discussed in many previous posts, plot and character are less competitors and more symbiotes. Once you understand the self-generating cycle of “character creating plot creating character creating plot,” you understand that the two work optimally when they balance each other within the overall storyform.

But what happens when something is out of balance? What happens when your story has too much character? Or too much plot?

Can Your Story Have Too Much Character Development?

It’s actually really hard to do too much character. Usually, if there’s “too much” character development in a story, it’s a sign not so much of character problems as it is self-indulgent writing in which the author counted too much on readers’ loving the characters enough to watch them do… nothing.

When characters are vibrant and well-drawn, they enter that beautiful cycle of creating plot. It’s tough to write good characters without also writing plot of some sort. Even in more literary-leaning books, such as Charles Frazier’s Cold Mountain, which are obviously preoccupied with character, the characters are vibrant enough to create a forward-moving plot out of even mundaneness such as farm chores.

(It’s true that even more “literary” stories may spend almost their entire word count within the characters’ head, with little happening in the exterior world. Plot is admittedly thin in these stories. The authors have intentionally created a “story” that is more about the descriptive detail or philosophical thesis. Sometimes you’ll also see these devices woven into a larger, more obvious plot, as in some of Thomas Mann’s or Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s brooding asides.)

Pretty much the only time you’ll run into problems with a story having “too much character” is if those characters are either failing to generate plot and/or aren’t entertaining enough to carry the story past scenes that are lacking in external conflict or momentum.

What About Too Much Plot?

Much more common than “too much character development” is the complaint of a story that has “too much plot.”

Poor maligned plot. It’s always getting a bad rap:

“That book was too plot heavy.”

“Too much plot vs. character!”

“That movie was nothing but stuff blowing up.”

But as it turns out none of these problems are about plot. Rather, the problem is “not enough character.”

“Too much plot” is almost always a sign the external conflict is operating on its own accord without being driven by dynamic characters. Stuff is happening, but the characters are just ciphers along for the ride. As a viewer or reader, I’m sure you can think of more than a few stories that fit the bill. They’re frustrating as all get-out. The plot might be great. If it’s a movie, the cast might be stellar. The theme might even be powerfully strong. But if the characters are just vapid automatons, the story feels empty.

5 Signs of Cardboard Characters

Recently, I watched several movies that checked all the above boxes. They could have been great. But they all stumbled and ended up just going through the motions, not because their plots were problematic but because the characters just weren’t there.

Today, we’re going to look specifically at Netflix’s recent army/heist flick Triple Frontier (along with The Red Sea Diving Resort and Amazon’s The Dressmaker) as a way of discovering what went wrong and how you can identify and rectify imbalances between plot and character in your own stories.

1. The Characters’ Personalities Don’t Inform the Plot

Why are your characters in your story? Why are these specific characters in this story? If there’s no reason why this specific character is important to this story, you know you’ve got a problem.

The surest symptom is an unmemorable character. Almost always this lack of memorability is really a lack of specificity. It points to the fact that this character—his personality, his choices, his actions—are so bland and generalized that the character could be switched right out for an alternate take.

You might also recognize the problem if you realize the character’s most important actions in the story could be undertaken just as easily by a different character. When this happens, you can be pretty sure you’ve got a character (or two) who’s nothing more than an interchangeable part—a Lego guy who just needs a new head.

For Example: Triple Frontier has the sweet double advantage of a simple plot and a simple cast—just five main players. But why five? Why these five? With the exception of Oscar Isaac’s protagonist, most of the other characters have little to no development. In particular, Garrett Hedlund and Pedro Pascal are immediately forgettable. One’s a boxer dumb enough to get his brains beat out every week; the other’s a pilot dumb enough to get caught running drugs. That’s pretty much the only specific contributions either make to the story.

Triple Frontier Garrett Hedlund

The Red Sea Diving Resort suffers exactly the same problem. Its protagonist is sketched pretty well, but almost all the supporting characters exist in the story with no more than one defining characteristic—none of which impact the story. We’ve got tough judo chick, vain beach dude, and stone-cold assassin—but none of them are developed past their characteristic moments.

Red Sea Diving Resort Chris Evans Haley Bennett

2. The Story Isn’t About These Characters

Do you know what your story is about? I mean do you really know what your story is about?

The easy answer is that stories are always about their characters. Events in a story exist only to develop character. Either specific characters generate specific events, or they react to events (generated by other characters) in specific ways. If not—if your story is peopled with characters so bland they could be replaced at a moment’s notice—then you end up with a story that ultimately doesn’t mean anything. This is true no matter how great the premise or the action may be.

For Example: In its very first scene, Triple Frontier tells us what it’s about: the negative effects of the warrior lifestyle. It opens with Charlie Hunnam’s character talking to a group of soldiers about how his stint in Special Forces made it difficult for him live without violence or in his post-Army life. This throughline is emphasized many times, culminating when [SPOILER] the team’s once-respected leader, played by Ben Affleck, murders a farmer and is then retributively killed himself [/SPOILER].

ben-affleck-triple-frontier-1552466986

But these developments never play organically, mostly because Affleck’s character isn’t well-developed. His Corruption Arc plays out more like a crazy personality shift than it does an organic devolution as the result of his specific choices and actions within the story. Had the script allowed its characters’ development to generate the plot, rather than shoehorning their character twists into the plot beats, the story could easily have shifted into a compelling and thought-provoking thematic discussion.

3. The Characters Lack Concrete and Specific Motivations

Often, the root cause of cardboard characters is a lack of concrete and specific motivations. What a character does in the plot is often much less important than why she does it. Monumental events can end up feeling bland when we don’t understand what is personally at stake for characters. Even small everyday events take on new significance when we understand what motivates the character (think of Liesel’s reading in The Book Thief).

Even if a character’s motivations aren’t explored in depth, if they are at least indicated early in the story they will have the ability to inform the subtext. What might otherwise be a two-dimensional hero in an action flick can take on at least a semblance of depth (think of Jason Bourne’s deeply personal and existential motivations adding unspoken depth and meaning to even the straight-up-race-em-chase-em of the third installment Bourne Ultimatum).

For Example: Triple Frontier didn’t totally bomb on this one. Viewers are given to understand that all five of the main characters have agreed to the central heist because of their problems in their post-military lives. We are given at least the hint of a specific personal reason for each character, even though only Isaac’s and Affleck’s motivations end up being pertinent.

Triple-Frontier-Pedro-Pascal-Garrett-Hedlund-Charlie-Hunnam-Ben-Affleck

The Red Sea Diving Resort fares even worse in this regard. Only the protagonist, played by Chris Evans, is given a slight backstory with an explanation of his fanatical motivation for rescuing the Ethiopian refugees. His teammates aren’t afforded even that. They’re there because they’re there, and that’s that. Not only does this skip over what might have been a lot of compelling development, it also robs the film of the potential for much stronger interpersonal conflict than what we get from Alessandro Nivola’s two-dimensional doctor.

red sea diving resort chris evans allesandro nivola

4. The First Half of the Story Spends More Time Setting Up the Plot Than It Does the Characters

If your story spends more time setting up the plot than it does the characters, that’s almost always going to point to a disparity.

Complicated plots are annoying. And boring.

Yep. You read right.

We don’t like stories because the plots are complicated. To begin with, complicated plots usually don’t work. (Think about it. There’s nothing simpler than a good whodunit.) But more than that, complicated plots take time away from what audiences really do enjoy—and that’s complex characters dealing with simple but difficult situations.

These situations often seem complicated, but they’re not. Good plots are as simple as presenting characters with a really difficult lose-lose (or win-win) choice. The mechanics of the choosing might be complicated, but the question itself is not.

When this happens, a ton of story space is freed up for—you guessed it—character development. Most of that development should happen upfront. If the characters aren’t the most compelling thing about your story, then chances are audiences won’t stick with it (or, best case, they stick with it but promptly forget about it).

For Example: Neither Triple Frontier nor Red Sea Diving Resort were terrible in this respect. But compare them to a classic action movie: Jurassic Park.

Jurassic Park balances plot and character just about perfectly. The entire first half of the story is spent on the characters and their reactions to the dilemma with which they’ve been presented (dinosaurs are back—is this a good thing or a very, very bad thing?). No action whatsoever happens until the Midpoint when the tropical storm unleashes the dinos. By then, the characters have been suitably developed so we care what happens to them and we understand why they make the choices they make. From the Midpoint on, the plot can roar furiously to the forefront without seeming like it’s “too much.”

What Jurassic Park Can Teach You About Compounding Conflict in Your Story

5. Characters Are Specific But Exist Only as Shallow Stereotypes to Fulfill Plot Points

At this point, you might look at your cast and be relieved to discover all your characters have specific roles to play, they all have specific personalities and motivations, and none of their actions could be seamlessly handed over to another character.

But there’s one last problem to be aware of.

Sometimes characters check all the above boxes and yet still exist not to generate plot, but to serve it. Almost always, this character emerges as a stereotype of some sort (either a stereotyped character or a character whose development is forced to fit a formulaic plot). Two of the most common culprits are antagonists (who are bad just because they’re expected to be bad) and love interests (who fall in love with the protagonist just because they’re expected to fall in love). But even protagonists can fall into this pit when they’re heroic just because they’re expected to be heroic or they end up “winning” the conflict just because they’re expected to win.

Be wary of characters going through the motions. Make sure there is a solid and compelling reason for a character’s every action within the story. Just as importantly, make sure his arc is developed throughout the story. Whatever happens to him at the end must fulfill two requirements:

  1. It must be properly set up in the story’s beginning.
  2. It must resonate thematically in the story’s end.

For Example: Most of the characters in Triple Frontier and Red Sea Diving Resort are so one-dimensional they don’t even risk this problem. A better example is found in The Dressmaker. Characterization in this film is excellent until the Third Act when everything falls apart to little thematic purpose.

By far the weakest character throughout is the protagonist’s love interest, played by Liam Hemsworth. Throughout the story, he has little to do except fall in love with Kate Winslett and little reason to do so except… why not? (I have a feeling that might have been better executed in the novel, which I have not read.) But this doesn’t become blatantly problematic until the Third Plot Point when [SPOILER] the character dies out of the blue—and the rest of the Third Act fails to make his death a plot-generating catalyst. Rather, what it feels like is that the love-interest character existed for no other reason than to shock both the protagonist and the audience with his death.[/SPOILER]

dressmaker kate winslett liam hemsworth judy davis

***

The holy grail of good storytelling is great characters in a great plot. Learning to recognize the proper balance of plot and character is sometimes easiest when you first learn to understand what an imbalance looks like. If you can spot and correct instances where your plot is operating without enough input from your characters, you’ll be well on your way to writing exceptional stories.

Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! Have you ever feared you’ve written a story with too much plot—or too much character? Tell me in the comments!

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About K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland

K.M. Weiland is the award-winning and internationally-published author of the acclaimed writing guides Outlining Your Novel, Structuring Your Novel, and Creating Character Arcs. A native of western Nebraska, she writes historical and fantasy novels and mentors authors on her award-winning website Helping Writers Become Authors.

Comments

  1. I have read “The Dressmaker” and the same problem is in the book. Thank you for this article. It deserves “saving” and rereading.

  2. DragonGeek says

    Some sequels I was most excited for recently–How to Train Your Dragon 3 and Spiderman: Far From Home–had this exact problem. Their main characters and main conflicts were strong, but the side characters were only there because they’d be conspicuous in absence if they were left out. They didn’t do anything, and they all had one joke about them that was repeated throughout the story and no other character.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      That’s a problem with sequels (as I’m discovering in writing my own). Supporting characters often become extraneous as the story continues to develop.

  3. Much European fiction is 70% character, 30% plot. It usually feels claustrophobic, like overwrought characters have little to actually do. It’s deeply unfulfilling. The opposite is still enjoyable, but it starts feeling hollow after too many plot-driven stories. Somehow British writer’s usually get the balance right. Solution? Really CARE about your characters, don’t seek to ‘understand’ them; instead sympathize with their fate, their reactions, even when they screw up. On that basis give them twice or three times the events and oh my god moments and minor crises for them to deal with. Events bring out their failings and frailty. In the Bond franchise we finally had a few moments of Bond’s frailty, and it was awesome, an oasis.

  4. Lyle Nicholson says

    Thanks for posting this. Yes, I’ve committed the mortal sin of too many characters in the first book in my series. Somehow, my readers got over it and moved on to my other books. I’ve made sure not to do that in my subsequent books.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Readers are actually a very forgiving lot. As long as the author engages their emotions and plays square with them, they’ll forgive a host of smaller problems.

  5. Triple Frontier was okay as an actioner, but it was disappointing in not exploring what happens to soldiers after they’re no longer needed. This is a theme that resonates back to the aftermath of the Revolutionary War and Shay’s Rebellion and throughout our many wars.

    It wouldn’t have taken much: the boxer character could have a TBI he’s having trouble getting disability for from the VA; he fights cause it’s an easy way to make money and might just unscramble his brains (he jokes). The pilot character should have a good pilot job – that gives the counter argument to Oscar Isaac’s character who basically gets no argument that the U.S. don’t care about US. The pilot only reluctantly signs on which will set up better conflict with Affleck later.

    And finally, yes, there has to be a reason Affleck loses his mind and goes to steal everything. After being all “we have 6 minutes gentlemen “ he totally flips for no reason. He was a cold blooded tactician literally 5 minutes ago! There needs to be a first act moment explaining that. If he had been drinking with the boys, gets into a fight with a random guy and beats him viciously at great risk and for no real reason, that might help explain his later actions: his service has made him impulsive and hair triggered.

    When character drives plot it introduces questions. That sustains engagement because we want to know what they’ll do next.

    Great piece as usual. Thanks for the cautionary note.

  6. I’m reading a scifi book now with a weird problem. Too much character – specifically, the characters’ ruminations about their feelings for each other become redundant. How many times can the MC and love interest almost connect, fall apart because of his temper, then almost connect… etc. Two antagonists find ways to end up in fights over and over. They never learn anything.And – just – too much ruminating

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Too much ruminating is often a sign of too much telling. A solid “show” scene can often remove the need for chapters of ruminating.

  7. Joan Kessler says

    Another great post! The third point about characters needing specific & concrete motivations resonated with me, which, I suspect, means it’s something helpful to me right now. I also like the caution of stereotypes not just serving the plot. I don’t mind a stock character (we all love our plucky sidekicks), but even they could have personal stakes that add to the story.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Archetypes are powerful for a reason, but they only work if they’re the skeleton onto which nuanced flesh is then added.

  8. As someone who writes genre fiction (science fiction and dark fantasy) I think plot first, characters second.
    However, your article makes a compelling case for giving characters more thought.
    At my previous two Writer’s conferences the emphasis was on characters.
    Thanks for this post.

    -Ingmar Albizu

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      I dislike the whole notion that plot-character is an either-or proposition. Character generates plot and plot carries character. Between them, they create and reveal theme.

  9. Brian Cartwright says

    A few examples…

    20 years ago I loved “Space: Above and Beyond” on Fox, from the producers of the X-Files, about a US Marine fighter squadron facing an alien threat in the 2060’s. I rewatched it again recently on Youtube. The first three episodes are heavy on backstory and introducing characters and I still seem then as slow and plodding, but it quickly kicks into gear in the fourth ep, being a low-tech scifi war story that shows how people grow and respond when faced with the worst life and death circumstances. I cried nearly every episode starting with #4

    “Elementary” on CBS. A modern take of Sherlock Holmes in New York City, he’s introduced as a very flawed character who had Dr. Watson as his sober companion. Typical procedural crime stories are presented each week, but like real life where events come and go, the stories serve as a vehicle for Holmes to grow as a person. Recognize his faults and work to repair himself, often failing.

    Then the most recent season of “Agents of SHIELD” (have to include some Marvel for Katie). Agent Coulson died at the end of the previous season which may have been the series finale, but it was brought back. The same actor then plays an alien named “Sarge” which understandably freaks out the agents. Sarge is harsh, and presumably a villian. But then, maybe, he’s on Earth’s side. Or not. Another character appears later, who is Sarge’s antagonist. Who can be trusted? Are they both bad? Why does Sarge look like Coulson? (and there is a good reason which adheres to previous events – which then goes to Sarge’s internal demons. Does he know who he is? Does he know if he’s a hero or a villain?)

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Your mention of Elementary makes me think of Castle. I’m not usually a big whodunit fan, but I really enjoyed the first couple seasons when the characters were still being developed organically, against the backdrop of the episodic plot.

  10. I actually thought The Dressmaker book was pretty decent, and certainly much better executed than the movie, which fell pretty flat to me. The book was more visceral, and you really get a sense of the tragi-comedy of the thing.

  11. Excellent–didn’t see any of these films but still a thought provoking piece. Thanks.

  12. Linda Werhane says

    This article has really caused me to question my ‘side characters’. If the characters are a temporary part of my character’s life isn’t it acceptable to give slight attention to them? If a character has several interactions with my MC, then I have given them a short backstory to help understand their actions. If a character has a longer term relationship with my MC I have given them a real backstory to flesh them out and make their actions understandable.
    Am I understanding your blog post correctly?
    I am questioning how much attention I need to pay to temporary characters.
    Thanks!

  13. The TV series Scorpion had great characters and the writers did a fairly good job of developing their nuances. But in every episode, the characters were continually thrown into death defying situations to the point where we, as an audience, couldn’t breathe. The situations kept getting worse and worse. There were few if any light moments to give the audience a chance to breathe. I think that’s why it went by the wayside. It was too intense and the characters needed more lightness to them. We stopped watching it because of the intensity of the story lines. Ultimately, the series did not survive.

    The TV series NCIS has been on for 17 years. The characters, over the years, kept the series going along with great story lines. (My husband and I have our favorite episodes which we have watched a number of times. Just like really good books.) The characters worked well together under usually terrible circumstances. I’ll admit there were some characters I liked better than others but the characters were cohesive and allowed the story to unfold naturally. Death was in almost every episode and yet, the characters, or rather the writers, managed to bring in moments of levity (usually because of a brash or quirky character) to break up the seriousness of an autopsy and investigation. The fact that it’s been on for so long testifies to how well the writers were able to meld characters with plot.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Authors who are able to appropriately execute the right balance of stakes within a story have a huge leg up in connecting with audiences. If the stakes are too small, readers/viewers won’t be gripped. But if the stakes seem disproportionately high, audiences can ironically end up just as disengaged.

  14. Lila Diller says

    I have always been on the character side of the argument. 🙂 I am interested and glad that you see both character and plot working in tandem.

    As a reader, I personally prefer first-person stories that delve into the “ruminations” of the character and really get me inside their motivations. However, as a writer, when I do this same thing, I tend to get stuck on too much rumination and not enough plot. I have no problem giving reactions to events, but when it comes down to the character actually making the events happen themselves, I stumble. Probably because that’s how I am IRL most of the time. I let things happen to me and don’t go out and make things happen.

    Of course, I also believe that little relationship wobbles are events and that every idle word spoken by my characters can change their relationships. So a lot of my “plot” is shown in dialogue where most relationships happen. Sometimes it’s a really hard balance to keep characters your readers care about and yet still have them do something that matters somehow.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Dialogue is always one of my favorite devices in fiction. I’d argue it’s the only true “showing” we’re able to pull of in written fiction.

  15. Moriah Snell says

    Plot is characters make really difficult choices that are lose-lose, that’s true enough, Katie. I’ll even agree with your opinion on most complicated plots. But let’s remember one trilogy in all of this: LORD OF THE RINGS by J.R.R. Tolkein.

    Some finds them hard to read, but I just want to point out that Tolkein manages a complex plot and multiple characters. The books are now considered classics.

    So it is possible to do these things, and still write a great book.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Lord of the Rings is complex, but not, I would still argue, complicated. The basic plot premise–destroy the evil ring—is very simple.

  16. Dennis Michael Montgomery says

    I am wondering if writing too much character can be considered info dump?

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Those are really two separate problems. “Too much character” in a pervasive story-wide sense is about a fundamental imbalance somewhere in the character-creates-plot-creates-character cycle.

      An info dump is a problem of technique. The information being dumped might be character info or might be plot info. The basic problem is that the information is unnecessary and/or is being shared inelegantly. More on info dumps .

  17. Great Post (and Podcast…I listen to it all the time.) and true. The Red Sea Diving Resort was average towards the bad side. It had the potential to be such a big emotional film, yet it fell flat and felt so thin, hollow and empty. The story premise was great, but could have been developed so much more. The characters made out of cardboard. Having said that, I’m not a screenwriter, and never read the book. It is easy to criticize, but you explained your critique well and you found the words I never did. Thank you for a great post. 🙂

    Just a little side note. The actors in the Red Sea Diving Resort were great. Without their skills this film would have been a classic B-movie…IMO 🙂

  18. I identified these errors in Triple Frontier. I’ve always been more interested in why Netflix doesn’t hire scriptdoctors to analyze their scripts!
    About the movie The Red Sea Diving Resort, it’s curious that I was doing research on your blog this week and I came across an article (I didn’t find it now) that explains about a character being good just because he’s a good guy and I remembered this movie! Now, you mentioned it.
    The mistake #4 was hanging over my mind as I was developing my script. I finished it yesterday, and I’m having trouble connecting my characters emotionally. I have a rational mind (INTJ) and the plot is very important to me. Everything must make sense and I forget to create an emotional atmosphere in my plot 😪

    Mistake #5 is about my secondary character. He is extremely important to my MC, but I can’t develop his personality 😫

    Thanks for this post!

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      As a fellow INTJ, I can attest that learning to convey emotion in fiction can be very helpful for your personal emotional development as well. 😉

  19. This post opened my eyes to items I must attend to on my next draft round. I didn’t think my story has any of these problems but I’m not all that sure. Thank you for sharing this information. 🙂

  20. philipguin says

    This might be a question from ignorance, but given a “lose-lose” situation, how do you justify the cost to the reader? On the surface of it, it sounds like the type of thing to bum the reader out. I’m assuming it’s not an entirely “lose” situation? E.g. the MC has his arm blown off, but saves the planet?

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      The idea is that the protagonist is not faced with a simple black and white decision–which would be easy for any of us to make. If the choice is simply save the planet (at no personal cost) or don’t save the planet (in which case you die too), the choice is too easy. But if the choice is save the planet (but sacrifice yourself) or don’t save the planet (in which case maybe you escape, but everybody else dies), suddenly the choice becomes much more difficult, as well as more interesting and realistic.

      • philipguin says

        Gotcha. You were just giving an example, but the concept of an actual lose-lose situation (crap world A vs crap world B) had me going for a bit, haha. I was envisioning something I couldn’t see myself wanting to experience as a reader, so that made me curious. But that obviously wasn’t your point. And arguably, two extremely crappy alternatives isn’t much of a choice anyway.

        Sorry, was a very tangential question.

  21. Sam Steidel says

    I was struck with a notion there is a word missing in this discussion. One almost too over mentioned in Character development, Motivation.
    The general desire or willingness of someone [characters] to do something [plot]:

    seems to me the more motivation thee the more the bond between Character and Plot thickens. I find the deeper the character it is near impossible to see no plot.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Totally true. Motivation is also the key to relatable characters. A hero who is a hero for no obvious reason is boring. A hero with a compelling motivation (or a villain with a compelling motivation, for that matter) is *much* more interesting.

  22. Nadia Syeda says

    I won’t lie, every time a new post come out, I look at my WIP and want to cry. But secretly, I enjoy the process. Recently, I scratched at a side character and surprisingly, she’s more interesting than I thought she would be. I love rewriting, because then I don’t feel like I’m making something out of nothing. I have something to work with.

  23. This is a good checklist for formulating characters.

  24. I love the way you put it. “Complex characters dealing with simple but difficult situations.” I made sure to save that quote so I would remember it.

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