Writing good characters
- Michael Oehley
- Oct 9
- 2 min read

Every story lives or dies by the strength of its characters. Plot gives a novel its skeleton, but characters are its beating heart - the part that makes readers feel, hope, and remember. When I wrote The Circle of Twelve, I wanted each member of the Circle to be more than a name on a page. I wanted them to feel real: flawed, uncertain, hopeful, and human, even in a world of empires and starships. The Circle of Twelve is very much a character-driven coming-of-age story - and it's one I am proud of because the characters are rich and deep.
Take Rúvé Poros (pictured), the young technician aboard the Súperia. He begins as a cog in a vast, hierarchical system; another number in a ship ruled by obedience and conformity. He is a low-ranking clone, bred for one purpose - to serve as a life support technician on the starship until he is disposed of. But Rúvé is a real person wrestling with self-doubt and the quiet ache of wanting to belong. His courage doesn’t come from grand heroism, but from small, defiant choices: from daring to think for himself to pursuing a love interest - even when expressly forbidden from doing so. His story reminds us that rebellions begin with small acts and brave choices.

Then there’s Elíaz Zemer (pictured) from historic Óshéanús — bright, loyal, and restless, always seeking to prove himself worthy in a world divided by privilege. His backstory of family expectation and sibling rivalry gives his choices emotional weight. Elíaz isn’t perfect; he’s too reserved, sometimes naïve - but he cares deeply for his brother and for doing what's right, and that’s what makes readers root for him.
When I build characters like these, I start with motivation - what drives them when nobody’s watching? Then I give them a backstory rich enough to explain both their strength and their flaws. Believable dialogue flows from knowing how each character thinks: Rúvé speaks with the puppy-like enthusiasm of a child discovering the world for the first time - because he was a clone generated in the form of a 15-year-old just months ago; while Elíaz speaks carefully and with the weary maturity of a boy who spends his life cleaning up after his reckless brother.
Most importantly, I try to make them relatable. Even in faraway worlds, we all share the same longings - for belonging, for purpose, for love. If a reader can see themselves, even faintly, in a character standing on the deck of a starship or facing an empire’s downfall, then that character has done their job.
Because in the end, it’s not the battles or the prophecies that linger - it’s the people we meet along the way, the friends we make, and the memories we share with them.



Comments