When writing a novel, how can a character be developed well, but QUICKLY?

Doing something they enjoy, that expresses their personality, and that is in some way unusual or noteworthy;

“I need to do laundry.”

“No, about the cat. You don’t need a cat. You remember what happened to your spider plant, right?”

Are the seasons in Ireland different from those in Scotland, England, and Wales? Or are they just milder versions of each other?

“So you didn’t meet any cute boys at the club tonight?” Claire called as she bustled about the small kitchen.

“Exactly.”

After Eunice and I finished London Under Veil, I entered the first chapter in a contest at a convention where you could submit something and have it critiqued by a professional book agent.

What is a good habit and what is bad one?

“You don’t need a cat. You can’t take care of a cat. You can’t take care of a ficus.” Claire flopped on the other side of the sofa and wriggled her feet beneath May.

“Number one, it’s not porn, it’s ecchi, and number two, why would I waste a perfectly good Saturday doing anything else?” Claire pulled at her tea and sighed. “The only thing that could make this day better is if you'd come home with some cute boy, so that after you kicked him out tomorrow I could live vicariously through you.”

May pushed Claire’s feet away. Claire rose to peer out the window. “Huh. It’s still there.”

How do you get a teenage boy to care about hygiene?

Claire, one of May’s three flatmates, former university roommate, and best friend in all the world, shrugged expansively. “It’s a Saturday night. What else would I be doing?”

Engaging in conversation that also shows something about their intelligence, personality, wit (or lack thereof); and

“Perv.”

Why are people saying that Trump is fat when he is an athletic 6 foot 3 and 215 pounds?

“It’s not looking at you.”

“I try not to, but thank you for reminding me. I know I don’t need a cat. I don’t want a cat. What would I do with a cat?”

“Nary a cute boy in sight.”

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“None of those either. Look upon the wasteland that is my sex life, and see that it is barren. Naught but a moggie followed me home.”

“Why is that always your first suggestion? I do not need some tea. It’s three o’clock in the morning! If I have tea, I’ll never get to sleep.”

“Hang on, are they playing ping-pong?”

What are some dirty secrets of Indian (Bollywood, etc.) actors and actresses?

Do that and you can ground your characters quite quickly.

“Well, maybe if you’d wear more clothes, they wouldn’t feel so cold. Hussy!”

“About wearing more clothes? How am I supposed to catch any fish if I don’t show off the bait?”

Why do older people have a hard time using technology?

“Yes way. It’s washing itself under the street light. Uh-oh, I think it spotted me. It knows I’m watching it. I swear it’s looking at me.”

“I’m serious!” Claire said. “It’s staring straight at me.” She let the curtain fall. “Weird.”

“You know what? Never mind,” May said. “I am way, way too drunk to be having this conversation.”

What seemingly minor decision or moment in your past ended up having a massive impact on your entire life trajectory?

“May! You’re home late! Early, I mean. Well, I mean, it’s early in the morning, but you’re home before I expected. Er, after. Before?”

“Claire, I—”

“From the look of you, if you try to sleep now, you’ll spend the next three hours hanging onto your bed trying to stop the world spinning. Since you’re not going to sleep anyway, you might as well keep me company.”

Why do heterosexual men like anal sex with women? I think it's because they secretly want to have anal sex with a man? What do you think?

“Fine.” May collapsed into the warm spot Claire had just vacated.

“Exactly.”

Here’s how we presented the character Claire when she was introduced, which the agent particularly singled out:

Hello I am 17 year old boy and I am interested in transgender why?

They both burst out laughing. “I’m right, though,” Claire went on.

“Tart!”

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

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“Yep!” Claire chirped. “There’s this schoolboy, see, and he’s homeless, so he lives in this boarding house that used to be a hot springs bathhouse, which is cheap because it’s haunted, so he decides—”

“I’m just a fan of your catch and release program.”

“Yuuna and the Haunted Hot Springs!” Claire turned the book around.

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“You need some tea!”

May studied the black and white comic panels. “Oh, my. She looks…anatomically implausible. What is she doing to that poor man? Wait, are those cat ears?”

In the kitchen, Claire set out a battered pair of mugs: May’s black, with “PEBKAC: Problem Exists Between Keyboard and Chair” in white letters; Claire’s white, with “This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays” in dark blue. She carried both mugs into the living room. “A moggie followed you home? Is this some weird Internet slang I’m not current on?”

Isn't it a turn on to have sex with a girl in a skirt or in a tight spandex?

“Claire! Why are you still up?”

“Thanks. You’re looking pretty ratty yourself. Have you been in that bathrobe all day?”

Essentially, what you do is show the character:

Why are white men so obsessed with Asian women? I'm friends with people from all different backgrounds but I never see my other non-white male friends obsess over or talk about Asian women like I've seen the white ones do.

“Cute girls?”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t spend all day reading—” May prodded the book with its garishly-coloured cover with her foot. “Bizarre comic book porn…”

“I’m glad my sex life is so entertaining.”

“I don’t know. Partying. Going to a pub. Anything besides sitting on the couch reading…” She squinted. “What the hell are you reading?”

“Nope, I mean a cat followed me home. A black cat, to be exact. All the way from the club. Probably still out there, for all I know.”

The agent had only one bad thing to say (the synopsis was crap; writing synopses is hard!), but praised the characterization and particularly how well we introduced a character’s personality quickly.

May yelped. “Hey! Your feet are cold!”

Create a context between this character and other characters.

Claire sat back down, legs tucked elegantly beneath her. “You are looking a bit sloppy,” she said, inspecting May through narrowed eyes.

“They are! He broke the rules of the boarding house by petting this character while she was in cat form, so they invoke the ancient rules of single combat via ping-pong, and—”

“But they’re cold!”

“Damn straight. So get to it! This time next week, I want to hear some moans coming through that wall.”

“No way.”

“I know! That’s why I’m putting them under you!”

“It’s a cat. All cats are weird.” May sipped from her mug, inhaling the warmth. She closed her eyes. The room spun. She opened them again. “Ugh. I think I drank too much.”