How to Introduce a Large Group of Characters

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Your protagonist enters a room and meets five, six, or even a dozen unfamiliar characters. How do you describe all these people without overwhelming readers?

It’s tempting to just list their names and a few physical characteristics, because that’s how your protagonist is encountering them, after all. Perhaps something like this:

I analyzed my eleven companions. Beatrice was a 12-year-old girl with dark hair and eyes. Thomas had red hair and freckles. Nott and Nox were twins, both short and stocky. I didn’t know the others. There was a black-haired, cloaked man with a goatee, a tall woman with a long braid and green eyes, a person with a black hood obscuring their features, a bronze dragonfolk, two gold dragonfolk—one tall and one short—and a frizzy-haired, brown-eyed gnome.

This is a lot of people. And with nothing to latch onto but physical characteristics, it will be difficult to remember any of them. More importantly, readers haven’t been given a reason to care or be curious about them.

To make characters more memorable, think about what their physical characteristics might say about them. Descriptors can do the double duty of telling us what they look like while delivering other information about them; for example, do they wear dark clothing because they like to blend in? Do they carry a sword like they know how to handle it, or does it seem awkward on their hip? What is their body language? How do they interact with the narrator? Do they have any unique characteristics that the narrator would notice right away (unusual clothing, a foreign accent, an object they carry with them, etc.)?

In addition, ask yourself how your narrator feels about the person they are describing; people tend to have opinions and biases, especially about other people. And even if they are just meeting a character for the first time, first impressions can be strong, too. 

Let’s try rewriting the above paragraph with those things in mind:

I analyzed my eleven companions.

Beatrice, a 12-year-old girl with dark hair and eyes that constantly flitted around the room, hid in the shadows. She peeked at me when she thought I wasn’t looking. I wanted to go over and give her a hug, tell her everything would be okay, but I knew she would scamper away if I approached, so I stayed put. 

Thomas, with a permanent frown etched into his forehead, glared at me 

from his seat by the hearth. I hoped a spark would catch his perfect hair on fire.

Twins Nott and Nox, both short and stocky, were huddled over a puzzle at a table, whispering together in their secret language that I had yet to crack. 

The rest I didn’t know. A black-haired, cloaked man with a goatee lounged on the sofa by Thomas. A tall woman with a long braid and muscles that reminded me of a blacksmith’s hovered over the twins. I had a bad feeling about her, but I wasn’t sure why; maybe it was her nervous energy. 

A figure with a black hood obscuring their features leaned against the wall by the 

door, smoke curling up from a pipe in their hand. Three dragonfolk, one bronze and two gold, played cards at the bar. And a frizzy-haired gnome played an out-of-tune lute on the small stage.

This is better. It includes more memorable details, like what characters are doing and some of the narrator’s opinions about them. It can also be helpful to group some characters together if you have a large number of them—that way, readers don’t have to keep track of so many individuals.

While the above works okay, there’s also another, potentially better, option for introducing a large cast. And author France White does it perfectly in her fantasy novel Voyage of the Damned, which is a murder mystery featuring twelve characters aboard a cruise ship. Through Dee (the narrator’s) eyes, White has to describe a dozen characters who are unfamiliar to the reader. She could have done it like I did above (and you can totally do that if it’s right for your story), but here’s what she does instead.

Dee boards the ship and arrives late at the party where the other eleven heirs of the provinces are already in attendance. Every character is present in the room as he steps into it, but instead of describing them all, White describes one:

“I duck as the wooden horns mounted on his head swing in my direction. He’s otherwise dressed as he always is: black military uniform with red trim, polished knee-high boots, and twin rows of perfectly shined buttons. His red hair is cropped short, an Ox Province-mandated haircut. 

“‘Bugger off, Pissfish.’

“‘You’ve not seen me for a year.’ I reach for his skinny shoulder, but he flinches away. ‘You should be nicer to your elders, Jasper.’

“‘Please, no. Don’t wind me up.’ His red eyes dart. ‘Not now. Not tonight.’

“I smirk, placing one hand on the bannister above his head. That’s one thing (perhaps the only thing) I love about Jasper—he’s shorter than me. He’s also fourteen, but I’m still counting the win. ‘How’s life at the Bandage?’

“‘Like you give one solitary shit.’ He’s just as I remember—all snarled retorts and spiky hormones.

“‘I do give a shit! A whole heap of shit.’

“He claws his hands down his face. ‘I need to get the upper provinces’ support on this trip. I need more divinium, weapons, supplies. I can’t have a pissfish messing it up. Again.’”

—Frances White, Voyage of the Damned

So, note the things going on here that I mentioned earlier: Dee mentions several physical characteristics, but many of those descriptors do double duty, telling us something about Jasper and/or Dee’s relationship with him. Jasper wears a uniform and his hair is short because he’s from a military province; Dee revels in one of the few advantages he has over Jasper—that he’s taller. Dee has opinions about Jasper. All of these things make Jasper memorable. He feels like a fully developed character with a personality, desires, and stressful things going on in his life.

After this, Dee gives us more background on Jasper’s province—Ox Province—about how it’s responsible for protecting the magical border (called “the Bandage”) of their country. Jasper is angry that his people are dying and that he has to go on this cruise and talk politics. The Bandage is failing and he’s worried about outsiders invading.

A lot of information is given to the reader here, and it’s masterfully done. What’s key here is that White gives the story room to breathe. After this conversation, she takes a page or two, where Dee goes off on his own for a few minutes, for us to absorb all that info, and then we’re ready to meet another character. Dee then runs into Tendai, the future leader of Elephant Province. This meeting goes quite differently:

“On my escape, I almost topple straight into the Elephant Blessed’s lap. I swerve, positioning myself before her wheelchair. It’s an impressive device, the kind of beautiful but ingenious creation only Elephant Province could conceive of … 

“She gazes at me from beneath gold-powdered eyelids. Purple hair spills from her headwrap, cascading against deep brown skin. It’s easy to tell where people are from in Concordia—you simply look at the hair. Mine is bereft of any colour, as white as dove feathers. It’s a Fish Province trait, but I can’t help but think it sends a message: ‘This one is lacking.’

“I clear my throat. ‘How’s life in the Fun—’

"‘You did not just touch my chair,’ her deep voice snaps.

"‘Sorry!’ I say on instinct, then remember I’m meant to be offending her and throw in a ‘you bitch’ for good measure.

"One pierced eyebrow raises. Her eyes cling to me, as if searching for something. ‘Is that really all you’ve got, Fish? Why don’t you try a little harder?’

"‘Uh…super…bitch?’

"She clicks her tongue, disappointed. ‘Irrelevant.’ She rolls away."

—Frances White, Voyage of the Damned

The power dynamics here are obviously different. Dee is less sure of himself, on rockier footing than he was with Jasper. He doesn’t really know Tendai. She treats him like he’s insignificant, as opposed to Jasper, who talked with him (albeit angrily).

One of the challenges of writing a novel is making your characters feel like different people with unique personalities. You may automatically write characters who react to situations the same way you would, which can result in everyone feeling similar. If this is something you struggle with, it will show up very obviously when trying to introduce a large cast in succession. 

Take inspiration from how memorable these interactions from Voyage of the Damned are and how we already have some sense of these characters’ personalities. I’m interested in Jasper’s plight and the potential threat of the barrier falling. And I’m intrigued by Tendai, because she’s mysterious; I’m not sure what she wants yet or what her goals are, but she’s obviously got a bite.

In the opening chapters of Voyage of the Damned, Dee proceeds to have individual encounters with the remaining nine characters, and each interaction is just as memorable. This method of introducing characters is particularly smart for White’s story, because not only is she introducing twelve characters, but the provinces they represent, their hierarchy within the kingdom, how the provinces interact with other provinces, and more. There’s a lot of worldbuilding ground to cover. By spending significant time with each character right away, giving them goals and dreams and feelings (and opinions about Dee), we’re able to digest this information at a palatable rate. This way, getting to know the characters is fun rather than confusing, and that makes all the difference!

So take inspiration from Voyage of the Damned (I heartily recommend reading the whole thing), and add these techniques to your toolbox so you can encourage readers to be as invested in your characters as you are!