Brandon Sanderson is widely respected as a meticulous world builder, an innovative storyteller, and a prolific writer. Over the past two decades he's made his name as a crafter of ultra-refined magic systems and dynamic characters. But no methodology is flawless, and new writers can learn just as much from examining how Sanderson's style falters as they can from his successes.
"Wait," I can hear some of you saying. "Isn't Sanderson the guy you've held up as a model of Neopatronage? Hasn't his writing raked in tens of millions of dollars? How can you say it has flaws?"
And the answers are: Yes, yes, and nothing manmade is perfect. Professional authors are always working to improve our writing, so suggesting areas that may need strengthening does us a service.
That being the case, what is Sanderson's Achilles' heel? In short: constantly dynamic characters. Hat tip to Michael F Kane on X for his insightful initial analysis.
One of Sanderson's strengths lies in crafting dynamic characters: individuals who undergo significant growth and change over the course of a story. But virtue taken to excess can become a vice. In The Way of Kings, for instance, Kaladin's arc presents us with a powerful and complete transformation. He begins as a broken slave and rises to become a leader and hero. However, as Kane observed, Sanderson's tendency to keep his characters dynamic across thousands of pages begins to wear thin. Dynamic characters can make for good storytelling, but they're not meant to be perpetual motion machines. A character cannot endlessly undergo life-changing revelations without diminishing returns. For long series like The Stormlight Archive, the continued reinvention of a character like Kaladin—who faces new personal crises in each installment—starts to feel repetitive. Take Kaladin's PTSD arc. While realistic, Kane notes that it no longer feels natural.
By the way, I'm not just picking on Sanderson. Many successful authors, especially those of Generation Y, fall into the constantly dynamic character trap. The problem is that characters who undergo too much development can begin to feel unanchored, as if they lack core identities.
A major error beaten into Sanderson's generation dictates that flat or archetypal characters are de facto poorly written. But that's not necessarily the case. Characters who remain fundamentally the same throughout a story needn't be lifeless or boring. Flat characters can still be compelling because they represent ideals, forces of nature, or stable moral anchors in a chaotic world. And characters who maintain their equilibrium over time can be stable, consistent points of contact which help get readers attached to a story. Using archetypal characters frees authors to focus on fresh conflicts and themes without needing to reinvent their protagonists.
Take Robert E. Howard's Conan the Cimmerian. Conan does not undergo dramatic changes in personality or worldview. He remains a larger-than-life hero: strong, confident, and determined. His consistency allows readers to focus on the ever-changing obstacles he faces.
Similarly, in Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, characters like Aragorn and Gandalf remain steady and unshaken in their principles. They are not static in the sense of being uninteresting; rather, they act as pillars of stability amid the story's upheavals and uncertainty.
Flat characters can be especially useful in epic or mythic tales which deal with grander themes. Instead of staying laser focused on individual psychology, authors can use archetypal characters to explore the war between good and evil, the triumph of heroism, or the power of destiny.
Many modern works have stripped such archetypes of their transcendent power. Dragons, once symbols of chaos and primal evil, are often reduced to fire-breathing lizards (Looking at you, Patrick Rothfuss). In contrast, Tolkien’s elves remain timeless because they reflect his belief in the sacred and eternal. By prioritizing symbol over technical detail, authors can imbue flat characters with deeper meaning. Instead of placeholders or mirrors; such archetypal characters act as windows into higher truths about humanity, morality, and the cosmos.
Another lesson writers can learn from Sanderson's struggles with character arcs is the importance of letting a character's development reach its natural conclusion. While it's tempting to keep pushing a character through new revelations, there comes a point at which every arc should resolve so the character can settle into the new, hard-won status quo. That's not to say the character becomes irrelevant. A resolved character can continue to play a central role in the story without needing constant reinvention. Going back to Aragorn, he completes his arc by accepting his role as king and fulfilling his destiny (which the Jackson films needlessly delay with their formulaic adherence to Refusing the Call, but that's another post). Once Aragorn claims his destined role, he remains a strong presence without requiring further internal crises.
Remember: Effective storytelling arises not from endless development, but from building stories on a foundation of belief. Tolkien’s convictions gave his characters weight. When character arcs resolve naturally, they allow room for symbols and themes to take center stage. When planning long series, authors should pace their characters' development carefully. Not every book needs to put a protagonist through a life-changing ordeal. Sometimes, letting him maintain his core identity while navigating external challenges is the best way to keep reader interest and build to a satisfying conclusion. While Brandon Sanderson's dynamic characters are a key strength of his storytelling, they're also his biggest pitfall. Constant reinvention can become exhausting and unsustainable over time. That's not to argue that you should only write flat characters. It is to advise that when writing dynamic characters, keep the following tips in mind:
Dynamic characters need room to breathe. After a major arc, let your characters rest in a stable state before introducing new personal trials and tribulations. Arcs that introduced positive change are no exception: Give your characters time to celebrate big wins.
Balancing dynamic and archetypal characters can supercharge your story. Archetypes can serve as foils, moral anchors, or aspirational paragons for your dynamic characters to play off of.
Prioritize meaning over detail. Overexplaining backstories or magic systems risks stripping characters of their symbolic power. Use archetypes to convey deeper truths without too much exposition. Stained glass windows don't have subtitles.
Let arcs resolve naturally. Forcing constant transformation risks undermining a character's established growth. A character who has completed his arc can still contribute to the story.Brandon Sanderson's work demonstrates the power and the limitations of dynamic characters. By balancing dynamic growth with archetypal stability and knowing when to let arcs conclude, authors can weave tales with emotional weight and lasting appeal, whether they span 300 pages or 3,000.
For a story that embodies the ideals of justice, honor and self-sacrifice, read Combat Frame XSeed on Amazon.
 | A guest post by
|
The best Fandom Pulse article ever. I really liked this one, and agree with every word.
I realized you are right as I was reading this... Kaladin's Arc up until OB / partly RoW feels very good but in Wind And Truth it feels like he is just doing the "transition to therapist" for the sake of keeping the character dynamic.