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

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

“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?”

Essentially, what you do is show the character:

Do conservative white women like black men?

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

“I need to do laundry.”

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

Do you think a lot of sociopaths' parents kill themselves for having brought such disgusting evil into the world? How much shame and disgust must they carry?

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

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?”

“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—”

Do you think it is likely that Maegor was presented a young dragon at some point, almost to the point of full-bonding, only to scorn it for Balerion in the end? If so, which one could it have been?

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

“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.

Create a context between this character and other characters.

Who writes and reads novels nowadays?

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

“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.”

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

Why do wives cheat on their loyal husbands?

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

“Nary a cute boy in sight.”

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.

What seemingly minor decision or moment in your past ended up having a massive impact on your entire life trajectory?

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

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

“Claire! Why are you still up?”

How do empaths destroy narcissists?

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

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

“Perv.”

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

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

“Tart!”

“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.”

Psilocybin induces large-scale brain network reorganization, offering insights into the psychedelic state - PsyPost

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.”

“Exactly.”

Why is it that when the Democrats absolutely love everyone to be LGBTP, they don't even acknowledge that Barack Obama and his husband Big Mike are homosexual, and he is the first homosexual president of the USA?

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?”

“No way.”

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

Is something wrong with my discharge? So, when I masturbate, white discharge comes from my vagina, but it's not stretchy, it's pasty. It doesn't smell and I'm not itchy, so I'm sure it's not a yeast infection. Why is it pasty though?

“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.”

“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?”

“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—”

What is the worst thing your sibling has done?

“Cute girls?”

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?”

“It’s not looking at you.”

If you could go back and rewrite the Legend of Korra, what would you change, and why?

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

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

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

Why do some people dislike rap and hip hop music despite there being poor quality music in every genre?

“Claire, I—”

Do that and you can ground your characters quite quickly.

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

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

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.

“You need some tea!”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

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

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

“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…”

“Exactly.”

“But they’re cold!”

“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.”