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

“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.”

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?”

Why do nearly all of the answers on Quora have “read more” and when I click on it, I get a virus warning every time? Has anyone else had this happen?

“I need to do laundry.”

“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?”

“Claire! Why are you still up?”

What 10 things have you stopped doing in your life?

“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.”

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

“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.”

What is the best way to get over your ex?

“Perv.”

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?”

“Cute girls?”

Why do foolish atheists think their strange delusional theories are facts?

Create a context between this character and other characters.

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?”

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

What trains transport cars and passengers near Pompano Beach, Florida that goes to New York?

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

“You need some tea!”

“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 I feel worthless most of the time?

“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—”

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

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

Do you agree with the characterization of Trump's trial as a "modern day Salem witch trial"? Why or why not?

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.

Essentially, what you do is show the character:

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

Hello, I have a question about astral projection. I started to get interested in this a little while after my mum passed in april. I thought I may be able to see her and speak with her if I managed to achieve astral projection. Since this interest, every time i sleep on my back I go into sleep paralysis. However, I cant progress into astral projection because it is very scary for me as I feel like I'm suffocating when this happens. I panic and force myself to wake up. This only ever happened about once a year before this. It sometimes lasts a long time. This has happened about 3 times per week since my mum died, as mentioned on a previous post. I no longer try to go into it anymore(due to the suffocating feeling), but it still happens. I read that sleep paralysis is the pathway to astral projection. Why has this started to happen so frequently since simply taking an interest in it? Is this connected to the afterlife? I am concerned about it as I now cannot seem to stop this happening. Could it be my mum trying to communicate? Im asking due to more knowledge around this in this group.

“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.”

Do that and you can ground your characters quite quickly.

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

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

“Tart!”

“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—”

Why are there so many single moms in America?

“Nary a cute boy in sight.”

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

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

Did Obito ever fully redeem himself in everyone's eyes?

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.”

“Exactly.”

What type of crossdresser are you?

“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.”

“But they’re cold!”

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

How can I easily get rid of my writers block?

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

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

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

Why do women change that much more with age?

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

“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.”

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

“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.

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

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

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

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

“Claire, I—”

“No way.”

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

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

“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?”

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

“It’s not looking at you.”