The Feeling You Want To Create

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Somewhere out there is a reader who is going to stay up past midnight because of a character you created. They're going to feel that strange little sense of grief when your story ends because it means leaving your character that they'd come to love. They're going to carry your character around in their head for days after closing the book, the same way that you've carried the characters that mattered the most to you. And this doesn't happen by accident. It happens because of how you've developed that character. Welcome to the Fiction Writing Made Easy Podcast. My name is Savannah Gilbo, and I'm here to help you write a story that works. I want to prove to you that writing a novel doesn't have to be overwhelming. So each week I'll bring you a brand new episode with simple, actionable, and step-by-step strategies that you can implement in your writing right away. So whether you're brand new to writing or more of a seasoned author looking to improve your craft, this podcast is for you. So pick up a pen and let's get started. In today's episode, we're talking about what actually makes readers fall in love with a character and why likability, relatability, and all the usual character development targets aren't actually it. Now you already know what this feels like from the reader side. You know what it's like to stay up past midnight because you need to know what happens in a story. Maybe you've closed the book and felt that strange little sense of grief because the story ending meant leaving someone you'd come to love. Or maybe you've carried a character around for days in your mind after finishing a book. If you're an avid reader, you probably know exactly what I'm talking about. And now that's what you're trying to create from the writer's side. But if you're like most of the writers I talk to, there's a good chance you've been aiming at the wrong target. Here's what I mean by that. Somewhere along the way, most of us pick up this idea that the goal of character development is to make our characters likable or relatable. So we spend our time softening their edges, adding quirks, filling out character interview questions, and working overtime to make sure readers will enjoy spending time with them. But likability isn't what creates reader investment, and neither is relatability. Because if you think about it, some of the most unforgettable characters in fiction are prickly, morally gray, or living lives that are nothing like the reader's own. And yet readers are still completely gripped by them. So what actually creates reader investment? Well, it's five specific elements all working together. Not one magic ingredient, not one single personality trait, not a likability formula, just five elements that all have to be in place working together. And when a character isn't landing, it's almost always because one or two of them are missing, even when it feels like everything's there. This is the pattern I see over and over when I work with writers on their manuscripts. And it's the gap that most character development advice misses. Because most of what's out there is basically just information gathering, creating backstory documents, filling out character interview questions, choosing from a list of personality traits, designing aesthetic mood boards, you name it. Now, all of that stuff is definitely useful, but none of it is what actually makes a character land on the page and earn readers' investment. But these five elements are. So here's what we're gonna do in this episode. I'm gonna walk you through each one of those five elements, give you an example from a book you probably know and love, and leave you with a question to ask about your own characters. By the end of the episode, you'll have a pretty good sense of which element might be underdeveloped in the character you're working on right now, whether that character is a hero, an anti-hero, or something in between. Alright, so let's dive in with element number one, which is a clear goal. Every character needs a clear goal, something specific they're working towards that gives the story direction and gives the character something to pursue. Most writers already know this. They know their character needs a goal. But where this element tends to break down is when the goals we develop stay vague. And I see this happen all the time. So for example, character goals that look like my character wants to be loved, or my character wants to escape, or my character wants a better life. Right? These feel like goals, but they don't really tell us much. They don't tell us much about the story, and they certainly don't tell us about the person at the center of it. And in my experience working on manuscripts with writers, a vague goal is the single most common reason a first draft loses momentum and stalls out. So it's not just that a vague goal leaves readers at arm's length, it's also that it leaves you, the writer, without a story to write. So let's talk about what a goal that actually works looks like. Because it's not just about what a character wants in a general sense, it's about what they want specifically and why they want that particular thing. That's what's going to give your story direction and that why or the motivation underneath wanting that specific goal, that's what's going to create reader investment in your character or the person chasing that goal. All right, so as an example, think about the story Six of Crows by Lee Bardugo. In that story, we have a character named Kaz Brecker, and his goal is to pull off the most dangerous heist in history. And he wants to do that as a way to destroy the man responsible for his brother's death. So we know exactly what he wants and we know why he wants it. And those two things together tell us a lot about who Kaz is. He's not someone that's necessarily driven by ambition. It's more like he's driven by grief. All right, so we know what he wants and why he wants it, and that specificity in his goal and motivation does two things at once. First, it creates reader investment, so we stay with Kaz even when we don't agree with his methods because we understand what's driving him. And second, it gives the story a spine. Every scene can be measured against that goal. So readers are constantly wondering: is Kaz moving closer to what he wants or further away? And that tension is what keeps them turning the page. Alright, so with this first element, here's what you're developing: a goal specific enough, grounded in a why clear enough that could only belong to this particular character, not a generic or vague goal that could belong to anyone. So here's the question I want you to ask of your own character. What does my character want specifically, and why do they want that particular thing? If you can't answer that in one or two sentences, then there's a good chance that this is the first place you need to focus. Alright, so that is key element number one, a clear goal. Element number two is personal stakes. So if the goal is what your character is pursuing, then the stakes are what they stand to lose if they fail. And just like a goal, stakes need to be specific in order to do their job. So what I don't want you to say is something like, my character could lose everything, or my character has too much to risk. I know these feel weighty, but they are too vague to land. Readers need to know exactly what's on the line, and they need to know why losing it would matter to your particular character. And that means that what's at stake needs to be personal. And that's true even in a story with enormous world-level stakes. And I wanted to mention that part because a lot of writers will default to scale when it comes to stakes. So they think the bigger the threat, the higher the stakes. But scale alone doesn't create reader investment. And that's actually where a lot of otherwise solid stories tend to fall flat. All right, so no matter how big or small the stakes are, they need to be personal. Now, the other thing you need to know about stakes is that they work on more than one level. So there are external stakes. These are things like the concrete things a character stands to lose in the outside world. Could be a person in their life, a position at their job, their actual life, you know, things like that. And then there are external stakes, which is what your character stands to lose within themselves. So things like their identity, their sense of who they are or where they belong, or maybe even some kind of belief that they've always held on to. All right, so external and internal stakes and the characters that really tend to stay with us usually have both, and both are developed with equal care. All right, now as an example, I want you to think about Katniss in the Hunger Games because she's a great example of external and internal stakes working together to create a character we really care about. So the worldwide stakes in this story are very real, right? The games are the Capitol's most powerful weapon, and they're an annual reminder to everyone that resistance is futile. But if you think about it, readers aren't necessarily devastated or affected by those stakes in the abstract. They're devastated because of what's specifically on the line for Katniss. So mainly for her, her own life is at stake, right? Prim, her younger sister that she stepped forward to save, her life is at stake. Pita, who is another boy from her district, also enters the arena, first as her fellow tribute, and then later becomes someone she can't bear to lose, right? Those are all external stakes, and they're specific enough to feel. But then on the inside, Katniss has internal stakes that are running underneath all of that. So mainly for her, the closer she gets to the other tributes, so Pita and Rue specifically, the more she stands to lose beyond her own survival. So for Katniss, people start to matter and relationships start to matter. And then those connections become the very thing that make her vulnerable, the very thing that ends up being central to how she survives, as well as central to who she becomes by the end of the story. Alright, so I really like the Hunger Games for an example of how you could have stakes on multiple levels. Now the question I want you to ask of your character is what does my character stand to lose both externally and internally? And is it specific enough that readers will feel the weight of it? And if the stakes you've written down feel like they could belong to almost any character in any story, then that's probably a sign that you need to get more personal. Alright, so that is key element number two, personal stakes. Element number three, this one is where a lot of first drafts quietly break down, so pay attention to this one. Element number three is inner conflict. So this is the wound, fear, or belief that your character carries that is quietly working against what they want. It's the thing they're fighting that no one else can see or fix for them. And it's what turns a character readers find interesting into one they can't stop thinking about. Now, let's talk about external versus internal obstacles for a second, because external obstacles are really easy to identify, right? Those are things like the antagonist, the ticking clock, the impossible task your character has to accomplish, you know, things like that. Most of us build these instinctively when we're writing a draft because they're the visible machinery of the plot. But the inner obstacle or your character's internal conflict is much less obvious. And this is where character development often falls short because it's less obvious. And I hinted at this earlier, but when I read first drafts, this is frequently the element that's missing. So the character might have a goal, the stakes might be set up, the plot might be moving, but something underneath the surface isn't working, and the character feels thinner than the story around them. And almost always it's because that character doesn't have a wound or a fear or some kind of belief that's actually shaping their behavior from the inside. All right, so to give you an example of what I mean, think about it like this a character without an internal obstacle feels way too easy to move through the story. Whatever happens to them, they respond cleanly, they make a reasonable choice, and they just move on. Now, they can still be in an interesting plot where interesting things are happening, but what actually creates that kind of reader investment is watching a character move through the story with something unresolved underneath. A belief they can't let go of, a fear that shapes what they notice and what they maybe refuse to see, a wound that's protecting them even from themselves, you know, things like that. So as an example, let's talk about Amy Dunn from Gone Girl because she's not really a character that a lot of readers would root for in a conventional sense. She's calculating, she's kind of cruel, she's increasingly terrifying as the story unfolds, right? But somehow she is really gripping. And I think the reason is entirely internal, because Amy has spent her whole life performing. First as amazing Amy, the perfect daughter her parents turned into a children's book series, and then as cool girl Amy, the version of herself she built for her husband Nick. But underneath both is a belief that love has to be earned through performance, and that anyone who fails to love her properly in return deserves punishment. And that belief drives the entire novel. It shapes every choice she makes, every move in her plan, and every line of the diary she's written to frame her husband. And readers don't need to like Amy or recognize themselves in her to feel invested and to be unable to look away. They're hooked and they stay and they finish her story because her interior is so specific, so active, and so visible on every page. And so the question I want you to ask about your character is what wound, fear, or belief is quietly working against my character, and how does it show up in the choices they make? All right, so that is key element number three, inner conflict or some kind of inner obstacle. Now, element number four is agency. And here's something a lot of writers don't realize until they read their first draft back. A character who only has things happen to them is surprisingly hard to care about, even when those things are terrible. And that's because sympathy isn't the same as investment. Investment requires watching somebody take action and make decisions, even when those decisions are messy and wrong. Now, in case you're unfamiliar with this term agency, agency essentially just means that your character is actively engaging with their own story. So they're not waiting for circumstances to change or for someone else to solve their problem. They're making moves towards what they want or away from what scares them or directly into the thing that they've been avoiding. And this is actually easier to get wrong than it sounds, especially when you have a plot that's driving hard and your character keeps reacting to it instead of helping to shape it. Now, let me show you an example of what agency is like, and I want to do that using Book Lovers by Emily Henry. The main character, Nora, is a really good example of this. She is a literary agent who arrives in a small town to spend the summer with her sister, Libby. And almost immediately she runs into a guy named Charlie who is a book editor that also works in New York that she doesn't really like. And so for Nora, the easy move would be to just keep things professional and keep her distance, but of course she doesn't. She ends up agreeing to work with him on a manuscript and she lets their dynamic become something real. And because of that, she ends up staying in town longer than she planned, and the two end up developing a relationship. And what makes Nora's agency particularly compelling is that it's constantly complicated by her inner obstacle. She has this deeply ingrained habit of putting everyone else first and of being the dependable one even at the cost of her own needs. And so as readers, we watch her take action in spite of the thing that's holding her back. And that's way more gripping and entertaining than watching someone act without any resistance at all. So that friction is what makes the story matter and it's what makes us feel Nora's struggle. Alright, now here's something else I want you to keep in mind when developing your own character's agency. It's not just about deciding what she does at any given moment. You're also deciding who your character is becoming through what they're doing. Because every choice they make under pressure is showing readers who they really are. Alright, so the question I want you to ask about your own character is, is my character actively driving their own story through the choices they make, or am I just moving them around the plot? And if you're not sure, try this. Go back and look at the last three or four chapters or scenes you've written. And in each one, I want you to ask, does my protagonist make a choice that moves the story forward? Or are they mostly just reacting to what's happening around them? All right, and that is key element number four, agency. Moving on to the last key element, element number five is worldview. And this one's really important because every character has a history. But what separates a flat character from a memorable one is whether that history actually shapes who they are and how they move through the story. Now, this isn't about flashbacks or info dumps. This is about something quieter and more pervasive. It's about the way a character's past shapes how they see and interpret everything around them, everything that's happening in your story, everything they think, feel, and do, and things like that. What they notice, what they assume, what they're quick to trust or mistrust, what they reach for when they're under pressure, and what they avoid. And this is important because a character who's shaped by their history is not a neutral observer. They are a specific person with a specific lens, and that lens colors every single scene they're in. And when this isn't working, characters start to feel interchangeable. This is something I see a lot in manuscripts. You could literally swap one protagonist for another, and the scenes would essentially read the same. And that's because neither character has a worldview that's actually distinct enough to shape the story around them. So they're kind of just reacting to events like anyone would and not like only that person would. And one of my favorite examples of this done well is actually from the book The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. And the main character in that story is named Hazel Grace, and she is a character whose history definitely shapes everything. She has a terminal diagnosis, and that is not just a plot detail. It's literally the lens through which she experiences the entire story. It affects the way she thinks about love, about time, about literature, and about the idea of leaving a mark on the world. Everything is filtered through who she is and what she's living with. And she is never neutral, she's never interchangeable, she could only ever be her. And that's what I want you to aim for when developing your own character's worldview. Give them a specific history that makes them the only person who could tell this story, and the only person that could show up in the way they move through every single scene. All right, and so the question I want you to ask about your character here is does my character's history shape how they see the world? Or are they moving through the story as more of a neutral observer that anybody could replace? And if the answer is the second one, you don't need more backstory. You probably just need to take the backstory you already have and let it actually do something on the page. All right, so that is key element number five, a unique worldview. All right, now let me recap the five elements before I let you go. Because these are the elements that when they're all working together, make a character land on the page and become unforgettable. All right, so element number one is a clear goal. So this is what your character wants specifically and why they want that particular thing. Element number two is personal stakes, so this is what they stand to lose if they fail. And remember there are external and internal stakes, and we want them to be specific enough for readers to feel. Element number three is inner conflict, usually grounded in an internal obstacle. So this is the wound, fear, or belief that's quietly working against your character and shaping all of their choices and decisions from the inside. Element number four is agency. So this is really just about making sure your character is actively driving the story through the decisions they make and not just reacting to what's happening around them. And then lastly, element number five is a unique worldview. And really what I mean by this is I want you to give your character a history that shapes how they see and interpret everything that's happening around them. The goal is to make it so they couldn't be swapped for any other character. Alright, now here's what I want you to take away from this. Somewhere out there is a reader who is going to stay up past midnight because of a character you created. They're gonna feel that strange little sense of grief when your story ends because it means leaving your character that they'd come to love. They're gonna carry your character around in their head for days after closing the book, the same way that you've carried the characters that mattered the most to you. And this doesn't happen by accident. It happens because of how you've developed that character, what your character wants and why, what they stand to lose, what's quietly working against them, how they choose to act and make decisions, and how their history shapes the way they see everything. And when all five of those elements are working together, readers don't just follow your character through the story, they stay with them. They feel the weight of what's at stake, and when the story ends, they grieve. But here's the catch, and this is important. Characters don't work in isolation. A protagonist with a clear goal and a compelling inner obstacle still needs a plot that pressures that goal and forces their wound to the surface. The stakes have to be personal enough that failing would cost them something connected to who they're becoming, and the structure of your story has to force them to confront a belief that they've been carrying. And this is the part that most writing advice leaves out, how all the pieces of story actually connect, which brings me to what I want to leave you with. If you're listening to this and thinking, okay, I can see which element is underdeveloped in my own character, but I'm also realizing the plot around my character isn't pressuring them in the way that it needs to, then that's exactly what I built Notes to Novel for. Notes to Novel is the program I made for the writer who has done the craft reading, they've taken the workshops, they've listened to podcasts, and they still can't quite get their draft to work. Because the missing piece was never more information, it was a process, a clear sequential one that puts these pieces together in the right order. Inside the Notes to Novel program, I'll teach you how to develop your story's full foundation. So character, plot, theme, setting, structure, and how all those things connect. So that when you sit down to draft, you already know what you're writing toward. You're not guessing, you're not starting over for the fifth time, you have a plan and a process you can trust. If you feel like that's the next step for you, you can find all the details over at savannagilbo.com forward slash waitlist. I'll link to it in the show notes as well. All right, now that's all I have for you today. If you found this episode helpful, I would love for you to leave a rating and a review. It takes just a minute and it really does help more people find the show. And while you're there, make sure to follow and subscribe so you don't miss what's coming up next. As always, thanks for tuning in. I hope your writing is going well, and I will talk to you next week.