This one's for the scenes with multiple characters, and you're not sure how to keep everyone involved.
Writing group scenes is chaos. Someone’s talking, someone’s interrupting, someone’s zoning out thinking about breadsticks. And if you’re not careful, half your cast fades into the background like NPCs in a video game. I used to struggle with this so much—my characters would just exist in the scene without actually affecting it. But here’s what I've learned and have started implementing:
Not their literal job—like, not everyone needs to be solving a crime or casting spells. I mean: Why are they in this moment? What’s their role in the conversation?
My favourite examples are:
The Driver: Moves the convo forward. They have an agenda, they’re pushing the action.
The Instigator: Pokes the bear. Asks the messy questions. Stirring the pot like a chef on a mission.
The Voice of Reason: "Guys, maybe we don’t commit arson today?"
The Distracted One: Completely in their own world. Tuning out, doodling on a napkin, thinking about their ex.
The Observer: Not saying much, but noticing everything. (Quiet characters still have presence!)
The Wild Card: Who knows what they’ll do? Certainly not them. Probably about to make things worse.
If a character has no function, they’ll disappear. Give them something—even if it’s just a side comment, a reaction, or stealing fries off someone’s plate. Keep them interesting, and your readers will stay interested too.
girls don't want boys, girls want megamind's fucking sick platform goth boots that he wore to fight titan
Every time I see this photo I imagine bucky with a jersey mom accent being like, “I swear to god, Sam, these kids are uncontrollable. I’ve seen better form in HYDRA agents and let me tell you, they weren’t much. Also, you’ll never fucking guess who’s here—WALKER.”
Baby axolotl swimming
Not now kitten daddy's googling his symptoms
wow. i can’t believe tomorrow is christmas.
love House MD because House is the MAIN CHARACTER at that hospital and there's no attempt to hide this. as the viewer you are fully aware that those nurses in the elevator are just extras. the boss's entire schedule consists of yelling at him. the head of oncology would rather prescribe him controlled meds and flirt than practice oncology. his team's only desires are to fuck him and strangle him, often at the same time. every other doctor at the hospital might as well be a cardboard cutout.
the walls are glass, the better to see him through. he limps around, commits malpractice, and serves cunt.
long live mid-2000s TV.
Me: I don't get it. I thought I was doing a lot better than I was a few years ago. I'm like 10 times more on top of things than I used to be. How does everything feel terrible now?
The Tiny Me in OSHA-approved Hi-Vis Gear Who lives in my brain and pulls all the levers: Boss, it's the fascism. You're completely gunked up with cortisol due to the fact that your entire daily life is now underscored with a haunting awareness of the rapid erosion of your rights, dignity, and any and all social safety nets, and you're also bearing witness to the most vulnerable people immediately being persecuted. This creates a natural stress response that basically means you're going to continue having memory and organizational problems, as well as emotional imbalances.
Me: BUT I HAVE A BULLET JOURNAL AND I MEDITATE NOW.
Tiny OSHA Me: BOSS, THE FASCISM.