This fall, I discovered the miracle of modern storytelling that is Stranger Things. (If you haven’t watched it, give it a try. Seriously.) I don’t know why, but I immediately became deeply invested in the show, attached to the characters, and immersed in the world. I spent the following weeks replaying episodes in my head, analyzing them, and trying to understand why the story worked so well—and how I could replicate that in my writing.
I haven’t cracked the code yet, but I have identified one of the secrets to the show’s success: character development. The characters are so realistic and appealing that we can’t help but care about them. In this post, I’ll focus on my favorite character, Eleven, and why she’s so compelling. (I’ll only be covering season 1, and I’ll keep the spoilers to a minimum.)
- She has a wound.
She grew up in a lab, where she was physically and psychologically traumatized, and where the closest thing she had to a parent was the evil doctor using her as his guinea pig. She also inadvertently opened a gateway to another world and unleashed its monsters upon Indiana—and deep down, she’s afraid she’s a monster herself. This kind of backstory is called a character wound. It’s something that haunts the character, something she must overcome in order to reach her full potential (and Eleven does, at the end of the season).
- She has a handicap.
Having grown up as unconventionally as she did, El is a girl of few words. She speaks in fragments, and she doesn’t know the meaning of things like “friend” and “pudding.” She often struggles to express herself, even when her friends accuse her (mistakenly) of betraying them. This is called a character handicap, because there are several times where it poses an obstacle to her—times where, if she could speak normally, everything would be much easier for her and the other kids. This handicap intensifies and complicates the kids’ predicament in a believable way. It serves not only to make Eleven a more interesting character, but also to further the plot.
- Her powers have drawbacks.
In any fantasy or sci-fi story, the powers that come from magic or technology must have drawbacks. Some would argue that the drawbacks are more important than the powers themselves. El has powerful telekinetic abilities, but she gets physically exhausted every time she uses them. As a result, she must only use them when she’s in dire need—and she needs time to recharge afterward, leaving her weak and vulnerable. Again, this prevents the plot problems from becoming too easy for her (a common pitfall of writing sorcerers, superheroes, and similar characters).
- She’s a good person…
She cares about her friends. She’s self-sacrificing. She worries that she’s more monster than human. El may not be perfect, but she’s clearly on the right side of the good/evil line—which is often (but not always) a prerequisite for a great protagonist.
- …but she has room to grow.
El has a long way to go as a character. She needs to learn how to express herself, how to deal with her emotions, how to channel her powers, and how to have healthy relationships—not to mention how to use proper grammar and operate a toaster (unless she can cook Eggos with her mind?). And we’re ready to follow her on this journey. Viewers, and readers, love watching characters learn, grow, and change. Knowing she’s a good person deep down makes us care about her, and the promise of character growth makes us want to follow her to the next season.