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

“Claire! Why are you still up?”

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

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.

What would you do if you found out that someone had broken into your home while you were sleeping?

“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.”

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?”

“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.”

Is it ethical for same-sex couples to raise children?

“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.”

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

“Claire, I—”

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

“No way.”

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

What are the reasons why am I so tired before my period?

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.

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

“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.”

This is a real question: Why do a lot of men/boys hate (yes, hate) women that voice their criteria in choosing a partner? Even when the criteria is sane and responsible. Besides it being, sadly, an effective mating strategy, why does it exist?

“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?”

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

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

What were the first few days, weeks, months and then years like after finding out about your spouses infidelity? How did your feelings, and yours & their approach to the situation change in the immediate aftermath compared to later down the line?

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

“Tart!”

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

One day, I happened to walk past where my crush was with friends. Then all of a sudden they start laughing, and someone maybe him, goes "freaking (my name) with her freaking hair!" Can anyone offer insights into this? We're in middle school.

“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—”

“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.

Essentially, what you do is show the character:

How should an atheist respond to a religious person who asks, "Why do you hate God?" What are some appropriate and inappropriate ways to answer this question?

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

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?”

“Perv.”

Just sitting at home with this huge cock. Who can take care of it for me?

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

“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.”

“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—”

How can one justify in Sweden that total subsidies for public green energy initiatives being approximately 8.2 billion SEK per year? Electric cars at market price typically cost an average of 500,000 SEK which is above household budgets.

“You need some tea!”

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

“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?”

Create a context between this character and other characters.

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

“Exactly.”

Do that and you can ground your characters quite quickly.

“Cute girls?”

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

“Exactly.”

“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.”

“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…”

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

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

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

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

“But they’re cold!”

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

“It’s not looking at you.”

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

“I need to do laundry.”

“Nary a cute boy in sight.”

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

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

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

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 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.”