The Emotional Evolution of Characters

What makes a character memorable? Why are some easily forgettable? There are characters from novels I read decades ago whom I still think about, while there are characters from novels I read only three months ago that I can barely recall. What’s the difference? Often, it’s a matter of connection between a character and the reader.

The books and stories that stay with us over time do so because they feature characters who change in ways that feel not only realistic but also deeply resonant. Recently, I decided to reread The Color Purple by Alice Walker. The protagonist, Celie, is one of those characters I recall often, even though I first read the book twenty years ago. The reread was inspired by my desire as a writer to understand why certain characters stay with me as a reader, as I want the characters I write to have the same lasting impact on my future readers.

The Color Purple reminded me just how transformative a carefully crafted emotional arc can be. Celie’s journey—from silence and submission to self-acceptance and independence—is so masterfully developed by Walker that it feels like witnessing the growth of a real person. Her story is not only inspiring to read but also serves as a craft lesson for writers on building believable emotional transformation. When I read the novel twenty years ago, I wasn’t reading it as a fiction writer. This time, I studied how Walker masterfully crafted Celie’s emotional arc.

I’d like to share some of my takeaways from Celie’s journey and how we, as writers, can use similar techniques to give our characters emotional arcs that feel as genuine and impactful. I’ve tried to write this in a way that won’t spoil the plot for those of you who haven’t yet read The Color Purple, but will still highlight the valuable craft lessons from my reread.

Every character’s journey has to start somewhere, and it’s crucial to establish that starting point. This may seem obvious, but it’s a step that is often overlooked. As writers, we need to know and understand our characters—who they are and who we hope they’ll become over the course of our stories. Before a character can change, we must consider who they are at the start. A well-crafted emotional arc hinges on where the character is emotionally at the story’s opening. In The Color Purple, Celie’s journey begins in darkness and despair. Through her letters, readers feel her suffering, isolation, and silence. This serves as the groundwork for her emotional arc. At the start, Celie has internalized the belief that her needs and desires don’t matter. She is lacking in self-worth. This painful baseline is crucial—it sets readers up for the depth of the change Celie will undergo and just how powerful that change will feel when it finally comes.

Don’t worry if the story your writing isn’t as intense as the plot of The Color Purple. A character’s starting point doesn’t have to be as traumatic as Celie’s to be compelling. It just needs to be a well-defined and deeply ingrained perspective that shapes the character’s understanding of their world.

If you give your character a strong foundation, you prepare readers to experience each small transformation as the character’s world begins to shift.

Next, you must identify the catalyst for change. Real change requires an impetus—an event or relationship that makes the character question everything they’ve believed about themselves. For Celie, that catalyst is Shug Avery. Shug’s character is permeated with a boldness and independence that Celie has never known. Although society views Shug as a “nasty woman,” Celie is in awe of tenacious spirit. Shug’s presence sparks new thoughts and desires inside Celie. She begins to see herself and to imagine her life in new ways. Through her friendship with Shug, Celie experiences her first taste of self-worth and self-love. This causes her to question her place in the world.

This reread reminded me how subtle yet vital the catalyst can be in a character’s journey. Sometimes writers tend to dramatize or overwrite this catalyst. It doesn’t need to be a single dramatic event or some contrived epiphany. It is likely to be more resonant when it’s the steady influence of something or someone who shakes up the character’s internal mindset.

Another key part of making a character’s change feel authentic is allowing the growth to happen gradually. Avoid abrupt transformations that cause a protagonist or antagonist to act outside of the character you’ve created. This can break a reader’s connection to the character, and cause them to stop trusting you as a writer. Celie’s journey is anything but linear; it’s filled with moments of doubt, internal setbacks, and fear. There are times when she questions whether she has the right to want more or to think of herself as deserving of more. Even with Shug’s support, Celie doesn’t simply break free overnight. That wouldn’t read as authentic or realistic. It takes numerous small shifts, over time and through challenges, for her to truly embrace her voice and agency.

As writers, we’re often focused on moving our plot along quickly to keep readers engaged. However, this can lead to rushing these pivotal changes to get our characters from Point A to Point B. Revisiting Celie’s story reminded me that true emotional arcs can be messy, nonlinear, and complex. They often involve backtracking to show a character wrestling with old beliefs. For Celie, the moments when she pulls back or doubts herself make her ultimate growth feel so much more powerful. Giving a character the space to make these emotional transitions at their own pace makes their journey feel grounded and real.

Walker demonstrates Celie’s emotional growth through the choices she makes throughout the novel. As Celie’s self-worth grows, so does her ability to assert herself—something she wasn’t able to do at the start of the novel. One of the most memorable moments in the book is when Celie finally stands up to Mr. __. She declares her independence and establishes her voice in a way she never has before. To me, this scene is the culmination of all the internal work Celie has been doing, and it’s the kind of climactic action that readers long for in an emotional arc.

It may feel easier to tell readers what a character feels rather than show it through action. It could take several drafts and many revisions to get it right on the page. Don’t be discouraged! Celie’s story is a reminder that it’s through action, choices and reactions that characters reveal their emotional transformations. Don’t rely solely on introspection and internal monologues—let your character’s evolution unfold through the actions they take and the risks they’re willing to make.

By the end of The Color Purple, Celie has transformed in remarkable ways. She’s no longer a silent survivor of abuse, but a woman who claims her own power. She lives independently, and makes peace with herself and her past. However, Walker doesn’t erase Celie’s history entirely. A character’s transformation shouldn’t mean erasing everything they’ve has been through. Celie’s pain remains a part of her, even as she learns to thrive. This balance between growth and acceptance makes her emotional arc feel satisfyingly real, because real people never fully shed their pasts.

When crafting resolutions for my own stories, I often think about how a character might embrace change without presenting to readers as entirely “healed” or perfected. While you never want to leave glaring plot holes at the end of a story, you can leave room for some lingering questions or open-ended possibilities for the future in order to make a character’s journey feel truer to life, especially if a character’s emotional arc has been particularly complex or painful. The most important thing is to honor the character’s experience and let the reader imagine the ways they’ll continue to grow.

By crafting a compelling emotional arc, you give readers more than just a character who’s changed—you give them a character who feels real, authentic and resonant. Revisiting The Color Purple reminded me that readers invest in characters whose struggles, setbacks, and triumphs mirror their own. That’s why Celie’s story stayed with me for over twenty years. As you craft your next story, pay attention to how your character changes from start to finish, the pace at which they do so, and how you present this transformation to readers. Ask yourself: What fears do they confront? What strengths do they uncover? And, like Celie, how do they become someone who has faced life’s complexities and come out the other side with a deeper understanding of who they are and what they can be?

Learn more about character development here: 

Character Development Definition: A Look at 40 Character Traits

Alternative Methods of Storytelling: The Epistolary Novel

The Color Purple is an epistolary novel, comprised mostly of Celie’s letters to God and her sister, Nettie. Some of the most powerful moments in Celie’s story come when she pauses to reflect on her life. Her letters to God offer her a space to process her emotions, beliefs, and secretly held desires. These moments of quiet reflection let readers into Celie’s mind, revealing her doubts and her hopes in ways that feel intimate and personal.

Walker allows readers to experience Celie’s internal struggles and triumphs through her letters. It’s a powerful narrative choice that gives unique insight into her emotions, thoughts, and growth over time. Letters and journals offer a direct, personal lens for readers to see a character’s private thoughts and emotions. By witnessing what a character shares in their writing, readers gain access to the raw, unfiltered truths that drive a character’s decisions.

While I cannot recommend that all stories that feature emotional arcs should be told through epistolary writing, I do encourage you to try writing from the point of view of any of your main characters. Even if those words do not make it into a final draft of your work, the exercise will help you understand your character on a deeper level. This will in turn allow you to craft better and more authentic characters.

If you’d like to experiment with epistolary writing or if you’re considering using letters, journal entries, or other forms of character writing in your own work, here are some tips to help you get started:

1. Tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. In letters or journals, characters should speak more candidly and direct than they might if they were talking to another person. Give them the space to be honest and unfiltered. Even if your character starts by lying to themselves, those lies can reveal deeper fears or wishes. First, establish where your character stands emotionally at the start of the story. Let their writing capture those early, possibly painful, self-beliefs. Over time, let their letters evolve to show the progress of their transformation.
2. Try using letters to show small, gradual changes in a character’s mindset over time. Each entry can reflect a subtle shift, whether it be a moment of realization, a crack in self-deception, or the hint of a new resolve. For example, if your character experiences loss, their written reflections may turn from shock to anger, then to acceptance. This could allow readers to feel the impact of each change as it happens, and to connect deeply with the character’s emotional arc.
3. Allow your characters to express fears, hopes, and memories in writing that they likely wouldn’t share openly. This can add layers to a character’s persona, helping you to craft truly round and dynamic characters. Understanding a character’s hidden motives and emotions will make them more nuanced and compelling. The most memorable characters are the ones who internal struggles resonate with readers.

Using letters or journals in your story will allow readers to witness a character’s emotional evolution with a rare intimacy. If your story isn’t meant to be told through epistolary writing, you can still gain deep insight into your characters by writing from their perspectives, even if those exercises don’t make the final draft. Go forth and experiment!