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

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

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

“Perv.”

What were some of the unforgettable incidents from your school life?

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

Essentially, what you do is show the character:

“Nary a cute boy in sight.”

What are some ways to identify and avoid logical fallacies, such as straw man and red herring, in an argument?

“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.

“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.”

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

What is the most interesting question you can ask to get to know someone?

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.”

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

What is the reason for the high rate of unmarried individuals in America, particularly among males?

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

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

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.

Why do Trumpers and MAGA Republicans care who is trans and who is gay ECT? If they didn't have a personal interest in transgenderism it shouldn't matter so much then, right?

Create a context between this character and other characters.

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

“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.”

Is it true that people who are possessed by demons cannot see them until the demon is cast out? What is the reason for this?

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

“Tart!”

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.

Can they start feeding only one meal to prisoners on death row or those doing a life sentence? Because only then will it be real punishment. If they want extra food they can work or pay from their own pocket.

“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?”

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?”

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“Exactly.”

“But they’re cold!”

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

Why is it so common for married white women to have an affair with black men? Does it bother white guys?

“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—”

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

“It’s not looking at you.”

I haven’t eaten junk food for weeks, I ate dirty all-day yesterday, but I can’t even workout, why am I so tired?

“Claire! Why are you still up?”

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?”

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

How do flat Earthers explain the existence of other spherical planets?

“You need some tea!”

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

“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—”

How do I develop the patience to read books?

Do that and you can ground your characters quite quickly.

“Exactly.”

“Claire, I—”

What is some information about unprotected sex and pregnancy?

“No way.”

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?”

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

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

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

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

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

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

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

“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.”

“Cute girls?”

“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.”

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

“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 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?”

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