Writer's Workshop: Leaning In, and Murphyjitsu · 2:50pm Jul 5th, 2018
All right, everyone. One more post on Starlight Glimmer. I think I've got some insight into why some episodes start warming me up to her, and why some leave me sighing and rolling my eyes. We'll break this conversation up a little bit by talking about a principle of making characters fun to write and read about, and we'll segue from there into attempting to predict these very strengths and weaknesses.
So I was talking with one of my friends, back when "The Parent Map" came out, and the topic drifted to Starlight Glimmer. I opined that through most of the episode, Starlight doesn't do a whole lot interesting, and my compatriot asked me how I would have characterized Starlight instead. I described my version of Starlight as sort of a "mad-genius, mad-scientist type," always coming up with crazy schemes and blowing up when things don't go her way. I also compared her to Bones McCoy from Star Trek, in connection with Sunset as Captain Kirk and Twilight as Mr. Spock. "Emotional instability," I said, was the chief trait I wanted to focus on, along with her penchant for trailblazing and pursuing her good.
Now, am I saying my way to characterize Starlight is the "right" way? Heavens, no. This is just the version of Starlight I would have enjoyed the most, what I would have done if I'd had deciding power. The snarky second-in-command is absolutely another way you could take it, and that seems to be what the show writers are trying to do. The problem is, there's just not enough of it. Here's how I created my "mad scientist" archetype for Starlight: I took my favorite moments from her original villain episodes--the part where she greets the main cast for the first time, and the part where she explodes at her followers--and I leaned into that.
What do I mean by "leaning in?" Basically, I took the traits that I found most interesting, and I made them the crux of her character. I went all in on it! Fans love characters that are larger than life, but to do that, it requires buying into the basic concepts of that character, cranking them up to 11, and never letting up. It's that letting up that's key here--anytime you don't use those traits you've established for your character, you leave them as a pitiful cipher, meekly doing whatever the script tells them to do.
Now, I'm not saying the characters have to be super-dramatic, though of course this is a great way to do it. Rarity's most beloved when she's at her most histrionic, and Pinkie Pie isn't Pinkie Pie until she's at her Pinkiest, uh, Pie-y-est. See what I mean? When you lean into a character, when you come up with this super strong archetype, they become an archetype unto themselves! They become the kind of character that you can describe as an adjective, and everybody knows what you mean. "Twilight Sparkle" is practically a synonym for "Adorkable," and "Rainbow Dash" has two gears: "Rainbow Dash" and "obnoxiously Rainbow Dash." 
I'm reminded of two of the most popular villains in comic book history: the Joker, and Victor von Doom. These are not deep characters, per se--Doom's got a lot of stuff going on in his backstory, but that's just icing on the cake. What makes these two characters so popular is that the writers never stop leaning into them. The Joker is a maniac with a gimmick like so many villains before and after him, but the reason why he came back from his brief death, whereas others faded into obscurity, is because he's such a joy to write, always cracking jokes and making people laugh. And Doom? What isn't there to say about Doom? He's a Nazi wizard robot scientist arch-rival anti-hero anti-villain evil overlord, he chews the scenery in every scene he's in, he can always be counted on to try and steal power for himself, he has a ludicrous hate-boner for Reed Richards, and oh by the way, his name is DOCTOR FRIGGIN' DOOM. He's such a ridiculous caricature that you can't help but love every moment he's on-screen.
Alright, so we've established that to make a character interesting, to turn people into fans and make them yearn for each new appearance, you've got to lean into their most interesting traits. But how do you know what their most interesting traits are going to be? How do you decide what to do and how to do it? To answer that question, I'd like to teach you all the sacred rationalist art of Murphyjitsu. We're going to do two variations of this art, one positive, and one negative. Here's how it works:
Imagine that you've completed your story. You've published it online, or you've made print copies, or what have you. You share it with friends, family, forum buddies, randos on the street, what have you, and you ask for their honest, unvarnished opinion.
- In scenario 1, they say, "It's... all right, I guess. Some of it is okay, but X just ruins it for me." What is X, and why do they say that in particular?
- In scenario 2, you can barely get your question out before they start jumping up and down and screaming, "I loved Y! I'm going to tell everyone they should read your story because of Y!" What is Y, and why do they say that in particular?
These two scenarios give you two different insights into your plan for your story. The first tells you where the weaknesses in your story are. Maybe the plot doesn't go anywhere, or the characters are bland, or there are too many things going on at once. The thing is, if you expect these objections to come up, if you can anticipate these problems occurring, you can route around them now, before the story's completed. And then, once you've made your adjustments, run scenario 1 again. Despite your changes, your beta readers are still telling you, "This story just doesn't work for me." What's the issue? Keep doing that until either you run out of ideas or you hit a point where your readers are disagreeing on things that some like and some dislike--you can't win 'em all. (It's not perfect--we can't predict every possible weakness in our stories--but it'll help you cover your bases.)
Scenario 2 is for a slightly different author, one's who's decided, "I don't want to write this story anymore; nobody would want to read it anyway." Imagine the scenario where that's not true. What is it that your readers are latching onto? Hey, guess what? That's the appeal of your story! Lean into that! If you've done that and you still don't think it's worth anything, do it again. Choose a different set of fans and try and imagine what they're head-over-heels for. When you see that in your mind's eye, lean into it! If you can't think of anything at all, then there may be a real problem. One possibility is that you have no imagination. 
(Seriously, if there's anything the Internet has told us, it's that nothing is so unappealing that it can't amass a couple followers here and there.) If that's the case, actually run the experiment for real: find someone else, have them read through your story plan, and ask, "What do you find most appealing here?" The other possibility is that, well, maybe your story is hopelessly unworkable. It may be that you've created the perfect storm of awful: unlikeable characters, a meandering plot, bland setting, and non-engaging themes. Your story may need significant reworks for it to be palatable to readers. You may end up having to raze the original plot to the ground, populate the world with fresh, new characters, and try again. But that's not so bad. As long as you can get one good concept, something for readers to latch onto, take that and run with it. Lean in!
Hopefully, this has given you some good ideas for character design and story planning. Murphyjitsu is an important skill that can be used with all sorts of projects where failure is predictable, and leaning in... heck, leaning in is good for just about anyone and anything. What is your business' most popular service? Lean into that! What is your most attractive personality trait? Lean into it! Anyone with an ounce of intellect can tell you that the key to selling yourself is to advertise your greatest feature. (Hence why I'm able to tell you about it. 
) So be it characters or setting, in your story or in your personal life, rain or shine, lean into your strongest features.
I was expecting this to be an analysis of “Fluttershy Leans In”.