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I was getting into the characters and the world I was creating. So much so that each time I was sitting down to outline, I was essentially creating the entire interactions that were making up the scenes. I felt I had reached a point where the only thing left to do was write.

Despite these urges to just start, I felt I was still teetering in a state of limbo. I felt that although I had a strong sense of the characters and what needed to happen, I felt some things were still missing. The first was that although I knew what plot points needed to happen, I didn’t always have the bridge scenes to get from one to the next.

I also wanted to make sure that if I was writing a Western, that it would have the tone and atmosphere of one. When I’m starting a project that is genre specific, for instance, I like to read and watch stories in that genre to make sure that what I’m writing will be infused with that same type of feel. For example, before I sat down to write Lock the Doors, part of my outlining was watching horror movies, specifically ones in the Friday the 13th series.

I feel this is a vital part of writing that you don’t always see in stories, but if you’re trying to attract the audience of a genre, they’re coming in expecting that type of story arc and tropes. You can definitely add elements from other genres into it, but when doing so, its important to make sure that it fits with the established genre.

I had a couple Westerns around the house, namely The Man with No Name trilogy, and while I was preparing for a second marathon, I started listening to some Westerns on my runs by Louis L’Amour and Elmore Leonard. I also ordered a collection of 10 essential Westerns to watch as I prepared to start a first draft.

I felt I was getting close.

I felt like I hadn’t known my characters to this degree since I’d written Dig Down. There were backstories to many of the characters that didn’t end up making it into the novella because of the impact I felt it would have on the pace, instead using the histories I had come up for them in the serials I had posted when I first started this blog.

As a side note: I have compiled them and included them as a free book to people who signed up for my book club. I do plan on one day releasing it on Amazon, as an ebook only.

Reaching the same depth for character bios and backstories that I’d given to Dig Down got me thinking. When I was plotting out Dig Down, I had actually coursed out the backstory of Rob’s downfall multiple times: from Rob’s perspective, from Preston’s perspective, and the events that actually happened that they based their opinions and future actions on.

I hadn’t done it for Lock the Doors, because there wasn’t a shared backstory that the characters shared, and the interaction that Bobby had with Sheriff Knotts was condensed into the memories that appeared in the novella. It also wasn’t something I did for I’m Not My Father because Cal didn’t discover the crucial detail about himself until the story was well underway, and so his history was one flawed by missing vital information. Also, what most characters were reacting to in the story was the initial disappearance of Sadie, and then the new evidence that came to light at the start of the story.

Developing character perspectives of the backstory didn’t provide much in my second two books as it did with Dig Down. But with this new story, I could feel the same vibe I’d had for Dig Down. So much of what had happened prior to the story kicking off played a role into how these characters fit into the story. From these posts alone, I’d developed a revenge subplot against one of the main characters, one of desperation trying to shed a disastrous reputation, and one trying to pull themselves out of a dead end lifestyle.

And these had all been secondary and tertiary characters.

With the six essential questions answered, which had given me the roadmap of where they’d come from, and where they were going individually, I now started outlining the plot again and again, each time from a different character’s perspective, always noting the goals they had at each stage of the story, as well as noting how they were impacted and how they would impact the other characters with each action.

The more I wrote, the more I saw how each character’s actions not only impacted the others, but complimented the other story arcs, as opposing goals fed naturally into organic conflict and setbacks for each other.

This was feeling really good.

As I said in my last post, the six essential questions did more than just give me a blue print of where the characters were at the start of the story, and where they were going during it. It also allowed me to figure out who they were prior to the events taking place – how they found themselves in their situation at the start of the script.

I’ve referred to two secondary characters that had been fleshed out with the six essential questions: one who was destitute because of the reputation they had, another who had been infused with a revenge plot toward one of the main characters. I’ll provide an example of a secondary character who wasn’t fleshed out particularly during the asking of the six essential questions, but whose answers helped lay the foundation for their starting point in the story.

The character Clara is introduced as a call girl in brothel. She was originally conceived to be someone the protagonist would visit whenever they came into enough money to indulge their temptations. That alone didn’t make her stand out much, and it wasn’t until I put her under the six essential questions that I was able to determine how she came to work in the brothel.

She’d been young and foolish, coming West with her lover at the time, only they had run out of money before making it all the way to the coast. The plan had been for the lover to find work until they could make it the rest of the way, but he died, and desperate for cash, she swallowed her morals and took the highest paid job being offered.

It would be implied in the script, not just that the main character has a history with her and that there are gaps in his visits, but in the dialogue of her and others in the brothel that she’s been at this too long. This detail was great because it allowed me to add something to the scenes she was in — if she’s been at it too long, it implied there were younger women working there now, which could breathe a little conflict between her and the other girls.

I found it could also give her a goal to work towards, getting out of that line of work, and that this could add another conflict to her scenes. While the protagonist was looking to her for another night of companionship, she would be angling for a way out with one of the other patrons, someone not only with more money, but a steady supply of it so she would never have to do this sort of thing again to survive.

The questions made me think about how her backstory brought her to the story’s beginning, and that ended up shaping the character and giving her her motivations throughout her story arc. And she wasn’t the only one I was able to do this for. After answering the essential questions for each of the characters, I used those answers to develop unique backstories for all of them to show how they entered into the central plot of the script.

Happy New Year everyone!

Wishing you all the best in achieving your writing goals in the coming year.

May you all find happiness in 2026.

After discovering the six essential questions, I began applying them to the characters that I had brainstormed for a new story idea. I ended up applying this tool to the ten characters that I had come up with for the Western I was working on.

This writing technique was excellent, and after using it once, it was something I decided I would use on any story idea I had from now on – aside from poems or short stories where it wouldn’t really be necessary to get so in depth. I became a firm believer in this because I saw how effective it was for outlining and plotting on multiple levels.

The immediate impact it had was giving each of my characters some sense of agency. Each character, no matter how big or small, had to answer what their goal was going into and over the course of the story. It also forced me to flesh out why they wanted those goals in the first place. I had envisioned an opening where the main character is hunting a dangerous outlaw for a large bounty with a group of men. Prior to the six questions, I didn’t think I’d given much if any thought to the makeup of the group of would be bounty hunters, why they too would be after the outlaw, but more importantly the money. But after applying this technique to the leader of the group, I came up with Chester Samuels, who I’d used as an example in last week’s post. It wasn’t until answering these questions that his storyline had desperation infused into it.

Asking these questions also shaped how these characters would interact with each other. For example, when I was delving into the tertiary characters, the answer to these questions gave a minor character a revenge subplot against one of the principle characters that I hadn’t originally envisioned. There would now be this undertone to the few scenes this character would be in. Even if the root of their animosity didn’t make it into the script, this would be a guiding principle when choosing what he would say and what actions he would take.

It also helped me to shape a roadmap, not just throughout the script, but also for the ending. By asking how did it end for each of them, it was forcing me to think about how each of these characters would fit with one another, how their actions would impact others, and ultimately, how it would decide their fates. If one character was a bounty hunter, and the other an outlaw, they were in direct conflict with one another – one could only succeed where the other failed, so determining the outcome of one would determine also determine the outcome of the other, which would have a ripple effect on other characters who were allies or enemies. These questions were forcing me to think from the onset not only what my end goal would be, but how to get there in an organic way that didn’t conflict with the storylines I was developing for the rest of the characters.

All I had done was answer six questions for my characters – but it had unearthed enough information for me to start developing in depth bios for all of them.

As I set to work on asking the six essential questions to my characters, I found that I was able to do so to more than just the core four main characters I had originally envisioned. Once I got going, I started seeing that I could apply this to every character that played some sort of important role in the narrative.

It started out with testing this writing tool on the secondary characters that were crucial to shaping the story, though not necessarily themselves pivotal to the plot. And as I was working my way through them, I looked to see if I could delve into the tertiary level of characters, and felt satisfied that I could.

Here is an example of the tool applied to one of the secondary characters:

Who are they? Captain Chester Samuels, a former captain overseeing previously contested borders with hostile natives.

What do they want? To supply steady income for him and the men, approximately 12 to 15, still following him.

Why can’t they get it? No one will hire them – society looks down on them.

What do they try? They try to collect on bounties that are posted in two frontier towns for outlaws that pose a threat to a vital deal for a new rail line.

Why doesn’t that work? Samuels and his men experience various setbacks, among them suffering casualties in pursuit of failed apprehensions, as well as having another claim a bounty where they failed.

How does it end? Running low on funds, and with their failures cementing the public’s unfavorable impression of them, they scrounge together the last of their resources in a last ditch effort to pursue the outlaws with the biggest prices on their head, making them the most dangerous targets to go after. The decision might bring them all to violent ends, but if they don’t, they’ll meet slower ones from starvation, and if they succeed, they’ll have not only become rich, but reversed public perception.

I’ll go into the analysis of how effective this writing tool was, next time.