Epic Fantasy Ramblings: Writing Characters People Care For

So before we talk about how I do epic fantasy characters, just let me put duct tape on my inner critic’s mouth…

So, now that that bitch is quiet…I’m starting another novel on Monday, which means a whole new bunch of characters, and I’d like to make them all very well-rounded because like with all my work, the point is to make the characters carry it from start to finish. So I’m writing this article for myself (and also to make that inner critic realize I know what I’m doing, sometimes).

I find this very important. Characters can save a story even in the absence of a great plot or great concepts. Some may disagree, but people care about other people–it’s an innate part of us as human beings. We can forget so many details, but if a character can make us feel part of their journey, we’ll remember it forever.


Writers have different ways of developing their characters. Some people love to outline characters out from the beginning, with their appearances, personalities, etc., all in one go. I once read somewhere that Robin Hobb of the Realm of the Elderlings would write a letter from the character’s point-of-view first, exploring their feelings and thoughts first before she wrote a novel.

I only do very faint sketches of characters in the beginning. Main characters get names, conflicts, some relationships, but I discover a lot during the actual writing of the first draft (so I have to do repeated drafts to clean it up). The thing that I keep in mind, from the very beginning, is that we as people have some very common needs, like food, water, shelter, and love. Also, often, we want to belong, feel safe, have a purpose, etc. I think these are the basics–every character that appears in my novels are treated as a “person” with all of these desires, and it helps me fashion a narrative where everyone’s motivations seem convincing.


Yeah, yeah, talk about the obvious, right? But what about the rest of it? Epic fantasy is long, after all. The relationships, the dialogue, the thoughts? How do you fill in the outlines? How do you fill a novel with breathing characters that people not only come to find interesting, but care for, maybe even love?

Some may not like this answer but: I think a part of you has to love people yourself.

I don’t mean you have to love everyone. But I mean that it’s a lot easier to create an array of great, well-rounded characters if you’re fascinated with people in general. The amount of writers I’ve met who only seem interested in themselves is staggering–too many think the genius of their craft relies solely on themselves, when in truth people are reading your work not just to see your experience, but to catch a glimpse of their own. And this is even more true when you’re writing something that requires the strength of characters to propel the narrative forward.

You have to care about other people’s struggles, not just your own. You have to be able to see what makes other people afraid, why they make the choices they do and why sometimes these aren’t the choices you might make yourself. You have to understand why they love the things they love, and find interest in what keeps them going. I think this is why age offers a great advantage to a writer–you’ve met more people and have seen more of the world.


When you’ve started thinking about your characters as people, a strange thing happens–you can just drop them into any situation and then they’ll do their own thing.

No, really. What do you mean this sounds crazy? That’s totally how it works for me…

They do things and I record it. And then I discover the rest while writing.

The thing is, I have to pull myself away from these interactions. Which is why outlining never works to make characters do things that seem natural. Which is why trying to have characters that do natural things within the confines of a plotted novel is like taming a wild horse, and is a process that I had to learn to get better at over time (I do organic outlines, which means the outlines themselves change as the novel progresses).

It’s an interesting process. For example, you can’t force banter with some characters. Enosh and Sume banter only works once in a while, when she’s got something to lord over him or she’s feeling particularly irritated (which normally is easy for Enosh to do with most characters, but Sume’s a bit more patient than most). She’s too intimidated by him otherwise. This is why it’s important to choose a group of characters that work well together, or…don’t, if that’s what the story calls for. Enosh and Sapphire banter work very well because neither’s feelings are particularly hurt when they trade sharp insults–it’s nearly a dance with them, and it amuses them both.

Having stubborn characters can also make a seemingly simple process way more complex than it should be. Kefier and Sume interactions are driven by two characters who have had to deal with so much and have learned to keep their very, very deep emotions bottled up, which tends to result in arguments in the later half of the series. This is intensified by the presence of Enosh–they both have to tolerate him on a personal basis, which doesn’t give them much room to figure out their own shit.

Talyien and Khine from the Bitch Queen series, as a different example, are two characters whose interactions can probably carry epic fantasy book after epic fantasy book just because they work so naturally together. The series features a number of their “ruses”, which only work because of their complementary charm and ability to move like water around people. Talyien and her husband Rayyel are a different story altogether–their natural inclination is to argue, and the way they prefer to do things irritate the other to no end. The latter part is particularly frustrating for some readers, because you can sometimes see how easily they could solve a problem if only they saw eye-to-eye, which is part of the setup: both have been raised to believe the worst of the other.


I‘m still trying to get better at it, still trying to figure out how to make sure plot pacing doesn’t get tangled with a character’s inability to grow (which they sometimes do, the stubborn fuckers) or their tangled relationships with the people around them (which can make things really, really difficult plot-wise). I’d sooner slow down the plot than force characters–one of those damned if you do, damned if you don’t situations.

But there you have it: a bit of an insight to my imperfect process.

Grab an epic fantasy book.