However, what if you don't want your characters to grow? What if you need them to stay exactly as they are in order to write a sequel? How can we use the power of character growth, but not actually allow any character growth?
John Sullivan told me, in discussion about his wonderful series, Only Fools and Horses, that the last thing he needed was character growth, because when writing a series across years and dozens of episodes, character growth can trap the characters against a ceiling. They can only grow so far, then they become fulfilled. They have undergone the change that made them so interesting, and have nowhere else to go.
That is why a truly great story - great because it does feature character growth - is often followed by a poor sequel. The protagonist has already made his life journey, is fulfilled and has learned his life lessons, so there is no room for further growth in the sequel, so the second story disappoints.
John would also use forms of character growth that didn't fundamentally change the character of the character, if you see what I mean. So, for example, Del Boy having a baby was an emotional plot line that would be considered as a form of character growth, but still meant he could be precisely the same Del Boy at the beginning of the following week without any change to his fundamental character.
I had a similar conversation with Lee
Child. For his Jack Reacher novels, the eponymous protagonist had to end up exactly where he started if
Lee was to produce another book to the same
successful recipe (as he has done every single year for the last 17 years). Interestingly - given the success of his series - Lee often used character growth without allowing Jack
Reacher ultimately to grow. Jack Reacher would begin the story as a drifter, wandering into a new town. During the course of a story that has him work for good as a vigilante
against the corrupt authorities, the criminals and the bullies, he would perhaps find a girl, fall in love,
become integrated into a community, become appreciated as a local hero... At the end of the story he might be lying in bed with a woman who loves him, children who worship him, a mayor who wants him to join the city council... but inevitably, he would walk away from all this good stuff that might fulfil him. He’d
tear it all up, spirit himself away in dead of night, and hit the road, to drift on to the next town. It’s just the
way he is... but this hugely convenient character flaw that had him dismantle all that lovely character growth also allowed him to return to the same starting point as he drifts into a new town to begin his next
adventure. Expert story telling.
How can I use this in my writing?
So characters do not have to change and grow, but you can still use the power of character growth in five ways without your character growing:
So characters do not have to change and grow, but you can still use the power of character growth in five ways without your character growing:
1) Have a secondary character change and grow (e.g., George McFly).
2) Have very definite negative character growth in the antagonist (a tragedy shines a light on the positive learning and growth the character should have undergone).
3) Offer your protagonist the opportunity to grow... but then have him turn it down (Jack Reacher), take something else he perceives to be of more value (e.g., money instead of the love that was on offer...), or fail to make the most of the opportunity (Del Boy).
4) Use forms of character growth, such as marriage or parenthood, that do not implicitly change the character of the character.
5) Use issues of morality to allow your character to grow through conflict in a specific area of life - carefully chosen so as not to impact areas of life used in the next in the series. So, for example, if your protagonist learns lessons about morality in dealing with relationships in one episode, and in drug dealing in the next, the growth in each doesn't affect the other. (See my post on Morality in Stories for more...)
Much, much more on the inordinate power of character growth and learning in my book, How Stories Work (2014).