Crafting characters who walk the line between light and shadow is a challenge I’ve come to love as a storyteller. Heroes don’t have to be paragons of virtue, and villains don’t have to be irredeemable monsters. Instead, the most memorable characters (for me) exist somewhere in between—flawed, complex, and deeply human.
In Grey & White, I wanted to explore this balance by creating characters like Tristan, the protagonist, and Jules, his enigmatic adversary. They inhabit a world of moral ambiguity, where perspective shapes everything. What does it mean to be a hero? What does it mean to be a villain? These are questions both Tristan and Jules will grapple with throughout the story—and questions I want readers to consider as well.
In this post, I’ll take you behind the scenes to explore my process for creating characters who straddle the line between light and shadow. I’ll share the lessons I learned from early writing missteps, my approach to crafting morally grey narratives, and how Tristan and Jules became the emotional and thematic heart of Grey & White.
Learning from Early Writing: The Perfect Protagonist Problem
When I first started writing, my protagonists were...well, boring. They were noble, brave, and almost impossibly virtuous. They rarely made mistakes, and if they did, it was a minor misstep quickly resolved. At the time, I thought that’s what made a hero—someone readers could look up to, admire, and root for without hesitation.
But as I reread those early stories, something felt off. The characters didn’t resonate with me. There was no tension, no sense of growth, because they didn’t have meaningful flaws to overcome. The story felt hollow, and I realized many of the faults lay in the perfection—the lack of faults—of my protagonist.
The more I read and studied storytelling, the more I saw the power of flawed characters. They felt real. They stumbled, they doubted, and they made mistakes that carried consequences. Watching them grow and adapt made their victories feel earned. That realization became the foundation for Grey & White. I knew that if my characters were going to carry this story, they had to be flawed, complex, and deeply human.
Embracing Grey Morality: A Shift in Perspective
One of the biggest changes in my storytelling approach came when I stopped thinking about morality in terms of black and white. Stories of good versus evil can be powerful, but they didn’t feel right for Grey & White. I was more interested in the grey areas—the spaces where morality becomes subjective, shaped by perspective and circumstance.
For example, a soldier who sacrifices his life in service to his country is celebrated as a hero by his people. But to the enemy, he might be seen as a fanatic or a threat who needed to be eliminated. Who’s right? Who’s wrong? It depends entirely on where you stand.
In Grey & White, this moral ambiguity is central to the story. Tristan and Jules are not clear-cut representations of good and evil—they’re characters shaped by their own pain, love, and survival. What makes their journey compelling (I hope) is that readers can understand their motivations even when they disagree with their actions.
I wanted my readers to feel the weight of these moral questions as they read. What does it mean to do the right thing in a grey world? How do you balance your own pain and needs against the needs of others? These themes informed every decision I made while developing Tristan and Jules.
Building Tristan: The Emotional Core of the Story
Tristan was always meant to be the emotional heart of Grey & White. I wanted to create a protagonist who was raw, vulnerable, and deeply human. Unlike many traditional heroes who hide their emotions behind stoicism or bravado, Tristan wears his heart on his sleeve. His anger, love, and grief are all-consuming, driving his choices in ways that are both relatable and, at times, frustrating.
One of the key elements in crafting Tristan was ensuring his internal conflict felt real. His hatred for the Grey—a force tied to his deepest trauma—is a constant source of tension. He despises the power and what it represents, yet he uses it to protect the people he loves. This paradox fuels much of his development in the first book, The Rage of a Boy, forcing him to confront the cost of his vengeance and the toll it takes on himself and those around him.
Tristan’s character often feels like an extension of my own emotional landscape. His anger, grief, and love are not just abstract concepts—they’re rooted in real moments I’ve lived. When I write scenes where he faces deep emotional struggles, it forces me to look inward, peeling back layers of my own experiences. It’s not always easy to revisit those feelings, but that vulnerability brings a truth to Tristan’s journey that I hope resonates with readers.
Building Jules: A Foil Who Could Be a Hero
When it came to crafting Jules, I drew inspiration from an unexpected source: the 1989 Batman movie. In an interview I read years ago (I can NOT find it, but if I do, I will edit this post the share the source), the writers explained how the Joker couldn’t just be an afterthought. If Batman was going to work as a character, the Joker had to be just as well-developed and central to the story. That idea stuck with me. If Grey & White was going to succeed, Jules couldn’t simply be “the bad guy.” He needed to be as compelling as Tristan, with motivations and depth of his own.
In The Rage of a Boy, readers only catch glimpses of Jules, but even in those moments, I wanted to plant seeds that hinted at his complexity. Is he truly a villain, or could he be seen as a hero from another perspective? This question will become more prominent in book two, A Feast of Stones, where his role expands significantly.
When creating Jules, I tried to approach his character from his own perspective. History is full of figures labeled as tyrants or villains, but few people wake up believing themselves to be evil. Tyrants don’t look in the mirror, twirl their mustaches, and plot malevolence for its own sake. Most believe they are serving a greater good, no matter how destructive their actions may be. To get into Jules’ head, I studied these historical figures and asked myself what they might have seen when they looked at the world. Why did they do the things they did? This approach helped me craft Jules as someone whose motivations make sense—even if his actions are hard to justify.
Jules was designed to be, in many ways, a mirror to Tristan—a character shaped by pain and love, whose actions reflect his own understanding of right and wrong. My goal was to make him someone readers could empathize with, even if they couldn’t condone his actions. By challenging readers to consider his perspective, I hope to blur the line between heroism and villainy even further. After all, the title of this post is "Creating Compelling Heroes". Is Jules mentioned so much only to show contrast, or could it be that there are those who view him as such?
Balancing Light and Shadow
At the heart of both Tristan and Jules is the balance of light and shadow. Their flaws are essential—they make them human and give them room to grow. Tristan’s impulsiveness and emotional intensity often lead to mistakes, but they also reveal his capacity for love and loyalty. Jules, on the other hand, operates with calculated precision, but his cold decisions stem from deeply personal motivations.
This balance reflects the larger themes of Grey & White: that morality is fluid, shaped by perspective and circumstance. By leaning into these shades of grey, I hope to create characters and a story that challenge readers to think critically about heroism, villainy, and the complexities of human nature.
Closing Reflections
Writing Grey & White has been a journey of exploring what it means to be human—flawed, emotional, and striving for meaning in a morally ambiguous world. Tristan and Jules, though vastly different, share one thing in common: they are products of their circumstances, their choices, and their perspectives.
My hope is that readers will be fully invested in their journeys. Cheer for them, question them, grimace at their mistakes—but above all, feel deeply about their stories. After all, the line between light and shadow is the type of story I enjoy the most.
What are your thoughts on morally complex characters? I’d love to hear how stories that explore grey morality resonate with you. Share your thoughts in the comments or on Bluesky—I’m always eager to hear different perspectives!
Comentarios