Using AI to ‘see’ my characters

Writing and reading are about communication. The writer imagines a story. They transform their ideas into words. The reader takes in these words and reconstructs the events the writer imagined.

But it’s not an exact process. A reader will ‘see’ things very differently from the writer. Even if the writer includes detailed descriptions they can’t cover everything. And that’s before we get onto other senses — the sounds and smells of a scene, the sensations on the skin, the internal emotions, the taste of food and drink.

So much of both reading and writing relies on imagination. And everyone has their own way of imagining things.

I’m not particularly visual in my imagination. When I read, I have only a vague internal image of the characters. It’s the same when I write. I focus more on the characters’ internal lives. I might have a rough sketch of each character — sex, age, size, maybe one or two distinguishing features. But beyond that, nothing.

But if I want this new series to be character-driven, I need to know the characters in more detail. In order to bring them alive on the page I need to ‘see’ them.

Some writers use images of famous actors playing particular roles. I don’t watch much (anything?) now. But I like the idea of having some kind of visual representation.

So I’ve turned to AI.

I’ve been dabbling with NightCafe for AI image creation for a while now, so I started prompting it to give me potential images of my characters. It’s not an exact science, though. I’m sure the AI sometimes ignores words in the prompt. It seems to have a bias for males with facial hair, and even when I include phrases such as ‘clean shaven’ or ‘no beard’ or ‘smooth chin’ it still comes up with stubble and beards.

But I’ve persevered, altering settings and adjusting prompts. I’ve gone through all the images NightCafe provided, looking for those that I feel best fit the vague characters in my head.

Let’s have an example, a character called Norm. He’s a part of a small crew on a spacecraft. Norm’s the mechanic, happiest when he’s prodding around behind an open panel, screwdriver and spanner to hand. He’s also a fantastic cook. His crew-mates tell him he could easily become a top chef, but for him, cooking’s a hobby. And a way of interacting with the rest of the crew (he’s not the most gregarious of characters).

There’s a downtrodden edge to him. Older than the rest of the crew, he’s had a ‘normal’ life, but he’s ended up on his own, down on his luck. He’s let himself go physically.

But he’s happy on the craft. It feels like a home of sorts.

After a lot of trial and error, here’s the image I selected for Norm.

AI-generated image of a middle-aged, down-trodden mechanic on a spacecraft.

The look of this character seems to fit my idea of Norm. There are subtle things in the image that add to his character, like the straps over his shoulders. They’re grimy, through a combination of neglect and grease or oil. They suit his character.

Let’s have a look at another member of the crew. Chelle is young. She comes from a good background, but she’s rebelled, to the point where she’s turned her back on her family and ‘run away with a degenerate bunch of ruffians’. She has a sharp tongue, and isn’t afraid to say what she thinks. She’s also very intelligent.

Take a look at Chelle:

AI-generated of an Asian female. She looks serious, but with a vulnerable edge. She has messy hair.

My understanding of this kind of AI is that it draws from a large pool of source material. The larger this pool, the greater the variety the AI can analyse. But if there are any biases within this source material the AI will, naturally, replicate it.

I assume that’s why the AIs used in NightCafe tend to default to white characters.

I rarely (if ever) ‘see’ my characters as being a particular colour or from a particular ethnicity. In this new series, humanity has spread to the stars. I can’t see that happening unless different countries work together, so I’m assuming a lot of integration. But as humanity settles on new planets, new moons, and in craft that are in effect drifting cities, the old prejudices and cliques will be replaced by new ones. As generations adapt to slightly different gravitational or atmospheric conditions evolution will push different groups into new areas. Add to this biological and genetic manipulation through technology, and our current ideas of ethnicity will become ancient history.

This is a long-winded way of saying that, in the galaxy of this new series, it doesn’t matter what colour someone is.

However, I still need diverse characters. And if the AI keeps giving me white characters, it isn’t helping. So, to force some variety, I’ve experimented by adding prompt terms related to colour and ethnicity. Not because I ‘see’ characters as coming from a particular country or group of people, but because I want variety. Seeing an image that is ‘different’ to my (biased) perceived ‘normal’ will be a reminder that my characters come from different planets, from different groups of people.

For Chelle, the images NightCafe gave me only started to feel right when I added ‘Asian’ to the prompt. After quite a few that didn’t hit the mark I settled on the one above. From this image I can imagine a younger Chelle, with ‘perfect’ hair (before she cut it and let it do whatever it wanted). I can imagine her using make-up as her culture deemed normal, before she let her internal character show in a more natural look.

There’s also a combination of toughness and vulnerability in this image. It reminds me that, for all her insults and tough attitude, Chelle is still discovering who she is. In many ways her attitude is a way of hiding, or a way of coping with a universe she isn’t quite ready for.

As with the uncertainty and the down-trodden look in Norm’s image, Chelle’s image opens up the possibility of changes throughout the series. Neither of these characters are one-dimensional. They’re going to grow. While I ‘know’ that from the way I’ve imagined these characters, seeing these images reinforces that for me. These images provide a reference, something I can look at as I write, reminders that these characters are ‘real’.

It doesn’t matter if readers ‘see’ Chelle and Norm in the same way I do, or if their internal images are nothing like these AI images. Readers need to engage with the characters, and that only truly happens when the characters feel ‘real’. To make this happen, I have to write about ‘real’ characters — not ideas of what a character might be, but characters who are flesh and blood, characters who exist. These images, and the images I’ve come up with for other characters, are going to help immensely in this.

Of course, there’s far more to writing than imagining realistic characters. But a story, let alone a series, isn’t created in a single step. Next time, I’ll talk about another aspect of this project, another step in the realisation of my ideas.


This is part of an on-going series of posts documenting my work on a new space-opera. If you’d like to get early access to these posts you can do so by subscribing to my Substack for free.

Now I need a structure for my series…

So, I know I want to focus on characters in this series. I have ideas for the main thrust of the story (the overarching plot), but before I start writing I want to plan. And for that, I want some kind of framework.

The vast majority of stories (especially successful, memorable ones) conform to a structure. There are many such structures, but one of the most popular is the hero’s journey. This originated from Joseph Campbell’s work on myths and folk-tales. He uncovered certain core similarities between most of these tales. He called this the ‘monomyth’, and it later became known as the hero’s journey.

George Lucas was heavily influenced by Campbell when he wrote Star Wars. Luke Skywalker’s arc in that film is one of the classic hero’s journey retellings.

But not every great story conforms to the hero’s journey. There are other structures.

Back at the start of 2021, one of the many podcasts I listen to, KM Weiland’s Helping Writers Become Authors, ran a whole series on character arcs. Weiland identified six core, sequential arcs, roughly mapping a life from ‘maiden’, then ‘hero’, and through to ‘mage’. Only when a character successfully negotiated one arc, she argued, could they progress to the next.

As I listened ideas started to develop.

Between each of these arcs are ‘resting’ arcs, where the character’s actions are more focused on helping others work through their own arcs. They became supporting characters in stories focused on others.

There are also negative arcs. These happen when a character becomes stuck at the low-point in a positive arc, unable to progress from this dark point. So a potential hero who backs out when the going gets too tough can fall into the negative arc of the cowards. Or if the potential hero doesn’t develop the necessary humility (if they believe too strongly in their own abilities) they can become a bully.

Not many stories focus on negative arcs (because we tend to prefer stories with happy, positive endings) but there are some classic negative arc stories. One that springs to mind is The Godfather, where Michael Corleone, despite never wanting to become like his father, eventually succumbs to a similar ruthlessness to keep his family safe. Or, turning back to Star Wars, consider Anakin Skywalker’s metamorphosis into Darth Vader.

And, in The Return Of The Jedi, Darth Vader gets a moment of redemption. His negative arc is reversed. There is always hope.

One thing that struck me was how a negative arc isn’t about a wilful desire to do bad things. It’s a downward spiral, or a weakness, or a misguided belief. It reminded me of something I’d heard many years ago — the villain is always the hero of their own story.

There are so many examples of this. Consider the minor conflicts between parents and teenagers, the desire to protect on one side and the yearning to experience on the other. Or go large (which I need to if I’m writing space opera). Think of political differences in so many countries. Think of conflicts between countries, between different groups within geographical areas. Each side believes itself to be in the right, their actions justified.

It’s not about simple right or wrong anymore, much as we’d like it to be.

Now consider a leader’s actions.’ Do they act to retain the status quo, or to usher in what they believe to be a much-needed change? Are they being poorly advised, either through malicious intent or through misinformation? Are they struggling with tensions between personal desires and the necessities of their office?

Let’s take a step back and return to my planning. I have a central story idea, a dilemma that has the potential to totally alter the course of humanity’s future. But, at least at the start, the exact nature is ambiguous. Different characters are going to have different views on it, and these views are going to influence their actions. These differences will lead to conflicts.

At the same time, my characters are all going through their individual arcs, battling situations that might only be tangentially related to the central thrust of the series. They’ll be pulled in different directions, forced to make hard decisions and accept compromise — or accept the consequences of rejecting compromise.

As I plan this series, I can use the character arcs Weiland identified. Some will keep to their positive arcs, others will fall into negative arcs (possibly to pull themselves back onto the positive path later on). There won’t be ‘good’ or ‘bad’ characters, only a cast of characters all trying to do the right thing, or at least doing the only thing they believe they can.

So I can construct a framework out of these arcs, giving the series (and individual book) structure. I can build the plot around that structure, confident that the heart of the overarching story will be the characters.

The next stage is getting to know those characters. More on that next time.

And if you’re interested in learning more about KM Weiland’s character arcs, click here.

Looking for spooky books? Check out Kobo’s October Spooky Bundle promotion

Throughout October, in the build-up to Halloween, Kobo are running a special offer‌—‌get three books for only £12/$15. This promotion includes my Complete Shadows Trilogy box-set. Click here for the full list of horror-tinged titles to take you into spooky season (the link takes you to the US store, but you can change country using the flag icon above the Kobo search bar).