From Flat to Fascinating: How to Craft Dynamic Characters Readers Can't Forget

Derek Murphy, is a mad book shaman who simplifies writing to inspire joy.

A good plot can keep a reader entertained. A good character will keep them obsessed.

Think about the books you love—the ones that stay with you long after you’ve finished them. Chances are, it’s not just the story that hooked you. It’s the people. The characters who felt like they existed outside the page, like they had full lives before the book started and would go on existing after it ended.

I still remember the exact scene where I fell in love with a certain fictional thief. It wasn’t a grand heist or a witty quip—it was the moment he panicked while trying to cook a simple meal. The same rogue who could slip a diamond necklace off a duchess mid-dance got completely stumped by a stovetop omelet. I laughed, rolled my eyes, and, oddly enough, connected with him. That small, unexpected contradiction brought him to life.

That’s the magic of good characters. A high-stakes plot might keep us flipping pages late into the night, but real-feeling characters are what make us care. They linger in our heads long after the final chapter, popping up in random daydreams or conversations as if they’re actual acquaintances. If you want your protagonists (and supporting cast) to achieve that level of obsession-worthy depth, read on.

It’s not just about quirks, tragic backstories, or giving them a “deep flaw” (though we’ll get to that). It’s about creating someone who makes choices, reacts, evolves—someone whose presence drives the story instead of just existing within it.

What Makes a Protagonist Memorable?

A truly unforgettable character has three things:

A core desire – Something they want more than anything.
An obstacle – Something that stands in their way.
A transformation – A way in which they change (or fail to change).

That’s it. That’s character.

Jay Gatsby wants to rewrite the past and reclaim Daisy. The obstacle? Reality.
Elizabeth Bennet wants love, but her own pride and prejudice (and Darcy’s) get in the way.
Walter White wants power and control. The obstacle? The drug empire he builds and the man he becomes.
Frodo Baggins just wants to go home. The obstacle? Everything.

Notice that a character’s flaw and strength are often the same thing. Gatsby’s relentless optimism is what makes him compelling, but it’s also what destroys him. Walter White’s intelligence makes him powerful, but his ego makes him dangerous.

A great character isn’t just shaped by the plot—they clash with it.

Their deepest wants and fears create friction with the world around them. For more on how the foundation of your story can empower your characters, check out The Power of Premise: How to Start with a Strong Story Idea.

Before we get carried away and talk about a lot of other things, please keep this simple little mantra in mind:

Who are your characters?
What are their goals?
What’s stopping them from reaching their goals?

Those are the main things you need to have for a good story, so don't obsess on the character's backstory and forget about your story's core conflict.

The Wound and the Flaw: Going Beyond Backstory

We love creating lengthy backstories—favorite foods, hometown secrets, lost loves—but most of it never makes the final cut. The key detail that does matter is the wound or fatal flaw: that emotional scar dictating how your character sees the world.

Batman: Witnessing his parents’ murder -> Believes the world is cruel, must impose his own order.
Katniss Everdeen: Growing up in oppressive poverty -> Distrusts everyone, including potential allies.
Severus Snape: Losing Lily Potter -> Driven by unending guilt, bitterness, and a twisted sense of loyalty.

The wound isn’t just a sad event; it informs a fatal flaw. Katniss’s wound (feeling powerless) fosters a flaw: she keeps everyone at arm’s length, pushing away real connection. We want to watch the story relentlessly push that flaw, forcing her to confront it or pay the price. That’s how compelling character arcs are born.

Backstories, by the way, don't belong in the beginning. The backstory is the reason a particular challenge is impossible for a specific character. Great stories are about a character going through a powerful event that forces them to change, so in order to do that, we have to find one thing they are absolutely not willing to change, that can't be removed without destroying their current identities.

The full backstory flashback belongs in the middle of the final battle scene, or near it - because that's when the character is forced to dig deep and rip out the limitation that would keep them from their destiny.

Wounds, Flaws, and Contradictions

Characters need more than just a cool backstory. They need a wound—a belief shaped by trauma or regret—that leads to a flaw. The best arcs come from a story that forces them to confront or question this flaw.

Wound: The emotional scar. Example: A ranger who once lost a friend in a monster attack, believing it was his fault.
Flaw: The belief or behavior arising from that wound. Example: He refuses to rely on anyone and sabotages team efforts to “protect” them from danger.

This flaw can breed contradictions—bits of behavior that clash with how they present themselves. Maybe he’s aloof but keeps patching up everyone’s gear behind their backs.

Humans are walking contradictions. We claim to be fearless yet panic over a job interview. We act selfless in one instance, then snap at a friend in another. Characters should be no different.

Small Contradictions, Big Impact

The Ruthless Assassin Who Loves Terrible Jokes: Maybe she collects the worst puns and giggles at them in secret.
The Lone Wolf Who Secretly Yearns for Validation: He swears he’s fine on his own, but constantly seeks small acts of approval from random acquaintances.
The Aloof Aristocrat with a Soft Spot for Stray Animals: Her supposed coldness cracks when faced with an injured kitten.

These inconsistencies shouldn’t feel random; they emerge from who the character truly is. The assassin might rely on dark humor to cope with guilt. The lone wolf might fear rejection but still craves a sense of belonging. Contradictions make them feel human—we all have them, even if we don’t talk about them at parties.

Supporting Characters: More Than Sidekicks

Your protagonist doesn’t exist in a vacuum. The people around them are critical in shaping their journey. A truly memorable supporting cast does more than just agree with the hero or cheer them on.

Allies Who Challenge: Watson forces Sherlock Holmes to explain himself (and, by extension, helps the reader see Holmes’s brilliance).
Friends Who Disagree: Han Solo prods Luke to question his naive optimism, adding tension that spurs Luke’s growth.
Side Characters with Their Own Goals: Samwise Gamgee isn’t just loyal to Frodo; he wants to see the world and protect what he loves in the Shire, too.

Pro Tip: Each significant supporting character should have their own mini arc or at least a distinct viewpoint. If they only exist to serve or praise the protagonist, they’ll feel flat.

Building a Strong Cast: Essential Characters for Rich Storytelling

A vivid, engaging story often relies on a diverse cast of characters to bring it to life. Each character serves a specific purpose and helps shape your protagonist’s journey by adding tension, humor, or emotional depth. Here's how these classic archetypes can enhance your storytelling:

Main Character: Your protagonist drives the narrative and sets your story’s emotional tone. Focus on giving them clear goals, fears, and flaws that readers can relate to.
Best Friend (Supporter, Optimist): A positive voice that encourages the protagonist. This character can bolster your hero’s confidence and act as a moral compass or emotional anchor.
Best Friend (Skeptic): A counterweight to blind optimism. The skeptic friend introduces doubt, helping readers understand stakes clearly and forcing your protagonist to sharpen their resolve.
Comedian or Jokester: Offers comic relief, easing tension in darker moments. Clever humor from this character often makes your story more enjoyable and memorable.
Teacher (Literal Sense): Provides guidance or knowledge your protagonist needs. Their role can drive critical plot points and subtly impart wisdom to the reader.
Mentor (Wise Role Model): Inspires growth and transformation. A strong mentor often illuminates the deeper meaning or theme of your story.
Boss: Typically creates workplace tension or stakes. They’re useful for highlighting your protagonist’s strengths and vulnerabilities in high-pressure situations.
Parents: Often anchors your protagonist emotionally. Parental interactions can reveal deep-seated character motivations or conflicts stemming from childhood.
Siblings: Useful for exploring rivalry, loyalty, jealousy, or unconditional love. Sibling dynamics often enhance emotional depth and realism.
Nosy Neighbor: Injects conflict or humor through curiosity and interference. They’re excellent for raising the stakes, complicating situations, or introducing surprise elements.
Nemesis: A personal rival distinct from the main antagonist. Often mirrors or contrasts your protagonist, emphasizing their flaws or virtues and spurring character growth.
Cute Sidekick: Provides emotional attachment and empathy, helping humanize even the toughest protagonist. Often serves as a touchpoint for warmth and compassion.
Main Antagonist: Your hero's chief opponent, embodying core conflicts and creating essential tension. They should be carefully developed, motivated, and compelling.
Antagonist’s Henchmen: Allow you to build suspense through escalating threats and smaller conflicts. Often less complex, they serve to showcase the antagonist’s power or cruelty.
Traitor: Adds dramatic tension through betrayal, trust issues, and emotional stakes. A carefully foreshadowed traitor often delivers one of your most memorable plot twists.

Thoughtfully crafting your story around these character archetypes can create rich, engaging narratives that resonate deeply with readers. But the thing is, not all characters need a full and complete backstory!

Sometimes they are just cannon-fodder.

They may not need backstories of even names. BUT you also don't want them to be a clichéd cut-outs, like the "henchman's goons - the fat one and the thin one." You also don't need to describe the common, universal stuff everybody thinks of when you mention a pirate or a CEO or a werewolf. You need to add specific, unexpected features or details that make them stand out; that are different from what one might expect.

Flat vs. Dynamic Characters: Definition and Difference

Understanding character types can dramatically elevate your storytelling:

Flat Characters are typically simple and predictable. They usually have one or two clear traits and rarely change or evolve. Think of fairy-tale villains or minor background characters who serve a specific purpose. They’re useful as supporting players to highlight aspects of your dynamic characters without stealing the spotlight.
Dynamic Characters, on the other hand, experience significant growth or transformation as the story unfolds. They grapple with internal conflicts, evolve emotionally, and often confront their flaws directly. Your protagonist should nearly always be dynamic, because readers deeply connect to characters who learn, fail, change, and ultimately triumph.

In strong storytelling, a well-balanced mix—flat characters to populate your world, dynamic characters to guide emotional investment—is essential. Aim to ensure your protagonist, and at least a few central characters, display meaningful growth, while supporting characters can remain consistent and help sharpen that central arc.

In a larger story with multiple main characters or an ensemble cast, each of them may have their own fatal flaw and specific, unique challenge. One example I really like is the 2019 Rim of the World movie. Each character has one essential task that directly mirrors their core fear: one is dyslexic, is shown earlier struggling to open a bike lock, so his challenge is opening a safe. One is afraid of fire, so he has to go through fire. One is afraid of heights, so he has to climb a radio tower. First, you show them failing at the thing, without explanation; later you show the backstory reveal to prove how difficult this is, for this character - why this is so hard for them - to boost conflict and tension.

How to Make Readers Feel Your Character

You can map out every psychological nuance, but if readers don’t feel it on the page, it doesn’t matter. The trick is to convey a character’s essence through action, dialogue, and tiny behavioral quirks—not just paragraphs of internal monologue or backstory dumps.

Show Their Habits
- A nervous protagonist who chews pens until ink spills.
- A perfectionist who adjusts every crooked picture frame they see.
- A procrastinator who leaves dozens of half-finished to-do lists scattered around the house.
Let Them Fail
- Overconfidence might lead your hero to underestimate the villain.
- An ethical code might cause them to sacrifice a golden opportunity.
- A misread situation might hurt a friend unintentionally.
Allow Genuine Surprises
- The stoic warrior cracks a heartfelt joke at the worst possible moment.
- The pacifist snaps in rage when pushed too far.
- The bold adventurer hesitates when facing an old phobia—like heights or spiders.

Readers latch onto these moments, these glimpses of vulnerability or unexpected behavior, because they reveal complexity beneath the surface.

Below, we’ll explore how to build characters with depth, grit, and emotional resonance. Then you’ll find a Character Development Worksheet to help you craft your own three-dimensional cast. Let’s dive in.

The Character Development Worksheet

Below is a template to help flesh out your protagonist (or any major character). You don’t have to fill every line if it doesn’t serve your story, but having these details in mind can guide your writing.

Basic Identity
- Name:
- Age:
- Appearance (height, notable features, etc.):
- Dress Style (day-to-day attire, any symbolic accessory?):
Unique Quirk or Habit
- Hobby or Strange Habit: Something that’s either surprising or reveals an unexpected side of them. (E.g., collects beetles, knits for stray cats, hums lullabies when anxious.)
Core Beliefs & Values
- What do they believe in above all else? (Justice? Family? Independence?)
- How did they develop these beliefs? (Upbringing? Mentor’s influence?)
The Wound
- What event or trauma left a permanent emotional scar? (Death of a loved one, betrayal, personal failure)
- What belief stems from this wound? (“I can’t rely on anyone,” “Love always leads to pain,” etc.)
Fatal Flaw
- How does this wound manifest in their behavior? (Aggressive independence, distrust of authority, chronic self-doubt)
Greatest Desire
- What do they want more than anything? (Revenge, to prove themselves, to protect someone)
- Why is this so important? (Is it tied to their wound? Their personal code?)
Worst Fear / The Thing They’d Never Do
- What are they terrified of facing? (Public speaking, killing someone, confronting a parent’s legacy)
- Why do they resist or refuse it so strongly? (Tie it back to that wound or belief system)
How They Must Change
- How does the story force them to confront this fear/flaw? (A mission that requires them to do the very thing they dread)
- What’s at stake if they don’t change? (They lose a crucial opportunity, fail the mission, cause harm to others)
External Details
- Everyday Life: Job, social status, hobbies, typical routines
- Close Relationships: Family, friends, mentors—who challenges or supports them?
- Physical Tics/Behaviors: Tapping foot, playing with hair, avoiding eye contact
Contradictions
- Ways They Contradict Themselves: e.g., “Claims to hate animals but rescues strays,” “Despises royalty but quotes palace etiquette”
Potential Arc
- Act I: Who are they at the start?
- Act II: What conflict tests them or pushes them to a breaking point?
- Act III: How are they different (or not) by the end?

Feel free to modify this worksheet to fit your genre or writing style. Some authors love deep dives into every family member; others just want a few bullet points. Do what serves your story best.

Plot is the journey, but character is who’s behind the wheel, what they see out the window, and how they react when the road takes an unexpected turn. By giving your characters strong desires, believable wounds, and a few messy contradictions, you’ll create people who feel like they could walk right off the page and into our world. And that’s when you know you’ve crafted a character worth remembering.

Use the worksheet to design each crucial figure in your narrative—protagonist, antagonist, key allies—and watch how naturally the conflicts spring to life. After all, when characters feel real, the story practically writes itself.

For a detailed template and practical character exercises, explore our character development tools on Sudowrite.

Putting It Into Practice

Let’s do a quick example to see how these pieces might come together:

Name: Calista “Cal” Thraven
Appearance: Lean, with a scar across her right cheek; always wears a worn-out leather duster.
Unique Quirk: Collects broken trinkets from each city she visits, hoping one day to fix them.
Belief: “You can only rely on yourself.” Developed after her village was abandoned by the king’s army during a raider attack.
Wound: Watched her younger brother get captured because she failed to protect him.
Fatal Flaw: She distrusts everyone, sabotaging any teamwork.
Desire: To free her brother from captivity.
Worst Fear: Letting someone get close enough to betray or let her down again.
Contradiction: She snarls at strangers and refuses help, yet she obsessively rescues stray animals. (Because she can’t bear another innocent life getting lost.)
Arc: She joins a ragtag group for a heist to fund her brother’s rescue. As they rely on each other, her walls begin to crack. Climax: She must choose to trust the team’s plan (risking betrayal) or go solo (risking the mission). The outcome forces her to confront the belief that “you can only rely on yourself.”

This sketch already hints at emotional stakes, potential conflict, and growth. Readers may start by seeing her as a hard loner, but if she evolves into someone who can open her heart a bit, that transformation will feel earned.

Villains: Not Just Evil for Evil’s Sake

A forgettable villain just snarls and does bad things. A compelling villain makes you almost sympathize. They have reasons, wounds, and beliefs.

They Think They’re Right: They see themselves as the hero of their own narrative. Their logic might be twisted, but it’s logic nonetheless.
They Challenge the Hero’s Flaw: The best villains exploit or mirror the protagonist’s weakness. Think Professor X (idealist) vs. Magneto (pessimist with reason), or the Joker (agent of chaos) vs. Batman (desperate for control).
They Force the Hero to Confront Inner Demons: An antagonist isn’t just a physical barrier. They might reveal the hero’s hypocrisy, or test their moral limits.

We don’t necessarily like villains, but we’re fascinated by their drive. That fascination is rooted in complexity, not a cartoonish mustache. There's a modern trend to make anti-heroes or villains who are secretly the protagonist; many writers also fail by showing their villain too clearly. The more time we spend with a character, the more we will sympathize. If we see and care more about your villain, then we won't care who wins at the end. Also if we hear them scheming and plotting, we'll already know what is going to happen.

Keep your antagonists hidden - in movies, the bad guys are often masked so we don't see them and the heroes can kill them off without moral quandaries. Near the end, the bad guy's mask comes off. We may be able to understand them, but they should be unlikeable enough that we don't root for them.

Protagonist, Antagonist, and Deuteragonist: Core Character Roles

As a quick summary, these core character types form the backbone of nearly every compelling story:

Protagonist:
The protagonist is your central character, the primary focus of your story’s action and emotional journey. Their decisions and conflicts drive the narrative forward. Readers should deeply connect with their struggles, desires, and growth.
Antagonist:
The antagonist opposes the protagonist, creating essential conflict and tension. They don't have to be outright villainous—just someone whose goals conflict directly with the protagonist’s, pushing them into difficult decisions and forcing growth.
Deuteragonist:
The deuteragonist is the protagonist’s closest ally or secondary main character—often a best friend, partner, or companion who provides critical emotional support, perspective, or even challenge. They typically undergo their own journey parallel to the protagonist’s, deepening the story’s emotional complexity.

When these three roles are clearly defined and developed, your storytelling naturally becomes richer, more layered, and deeply engaging. Many stories have two deuteragonists, but one or both may also be a love interest to create more conflict and emotional confusion.

Character is Story: Plot Emerges From Desire

Plot is what happens because your character wants something and clashes with obstacles. If your protagonist doesn’t deeply want anything, the story has no engine. If the obstacles are flimsy or random, there’s no friction.

Before you start drafting, at least try to answer:

What does my protagonist desire most?
What internal and external forces keep them from getting it?
How do they change or fail to change by the end?

This doesn’t have to be perfect upfront—it can evolve. But having a sense of that emotional core ensures you’re not just stringing events together; you’re crafting an arc that resonates.

Flat vs. Dynamic Characters

Flat Characters

Remain essentially the same throughout the story.
Often serve a functional role (like a kindly shopkeeper who doesn’t grow or change).
Not every character needs an arc—some are there to support the narrative or highlight the protagonist’s journey.

Dynamic Characters

Evolve as the story progresses, whether for better or worse.
Typically your protagonist or major supporting players.
They learn, make mistakes, and shift in beliefs or behavior by the end.

Direct vs. Indirect Characterization

Direct Characterization

The writer or narrator tells us who a character is. (“He was a reckless gambler with a soft heart.”)
Useful for quick setups, but can feel flat if overused.

Indirect Characterization

We see the character’s traits through action, dialogue, and reactions.
Provides depth and lets readers form their own conclusions. (“He offered his last coin to pay for the orphan’s meal, even though his own stomach rumbled.”)

Using a mix is fine, but leaning on indirect methods creates a richer, more immersive experience.

Practical Tips for Crafting Real-Feeling Characters

Write a Day in Their Life (Before the Story Starts)
A short free-write about their morning routine, their commute, a mundane chore. It helps you see their personal habits, how they talk to people, what annoys them. This background might never appear in the novel, but it gives you a gut-level feel for who they are.
Pinpoint a Defining Moment
Whether it’s their wound origin or a time they felt truly powerful, define one scene that shaped them. This can drive their attitude throughout the story.
Give Them a Discomfort Zone
Even the bravest soldier might fear a particular type of confrontation—maybe emotional intimacy, or a moral gray area. Let them squirm when confronted by this vulnerability.
Free Them to Make Mistakes
Don’t protect your characters from messing up big-time. Mistakes, regrets, and atonement fuel character depth.
Let Them Surprise Themselves
Occasionally, your character might do something even you didn’t plan. When you feel a sudden urge to break your own outline because the character “wouldn’t do that,” listen. That’s a sign you’ve created someone alive enough to steer the story.

Real-Life Examples (That Aren’t Overused)

Nova from Renegades (Marissa Meyer): A vigilante with a personal vendetta, torn between loyalty to her anarchist family and the “heroes” she despises. Her contradictions stem from her tragic backstory (the wound of losing her family) and her dream of a safer world.
Circe from Circe (Madeline Miller): A goddess with a mortal’s insecurities, exiled for her power. She’s immortal, but she experiences deep loneliness and growth across centuries. That mismatch—immortal being, very human heart—fuels her arc.
Addie LaRue from The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (V.E. Schwab): A woman cursed to be forgotten by everyone she meets, yet she refuses to give up on leaving her mark. Her flaw is a desperate longing for connection, clashing with the curse that denies it.

In each case, the character’s drive, wound, and contradictions form a compelling recipe. They’re memorable because we see them struggle and transform across the story.

Putting It All Together

Desire: Make it strong enough to propel the plot.
Obstacle: Internal flaws + external forces.
Transformation: Show the slow (or abrupt) shift, reveal them changed by the climax.
Contradictions: Sprinkle inconsistencies in behavior or thought, so they feel three-dimensional.
Emotional Resonance: Let readers feel your character through actions, tics, and mistakes—not just descriptions.

When done right, your protagonist—and even your supporting cast—will leap off the page. Readers won’t just read about them; they’ll root for them, argue about them, or even loathe them passionately. That emotional investment is the hallmark of truly real-feeling characters.

Final Word: Your Character Is the Story

Plot twists can wow us, lush worldbuilding can dazzle us, but it’s the people we meet in fiction who linger. Whether they’re flawed heroes, charming rogues, or tragic villains, the characters who evolve under pressure end up living rent-free in our minds. So, invest the time to craft a protagonist who wants something they can’t easily have—someone whose inner wounds and outer struggles collide in ways that matter.

Because when a character is fully alive—layered, contradictory, driven by both fear and hope—the story practically writes itself. We keep turning pages not just to see what happens, but how this complex, maddening, and oh-so-human person will handle it. And that’s where the real magic of storytelling begins.

Ready to craft an ending that leaves readers thinking about your story long after the final page? Try Sudowrite now!