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Hey! That is a great question. It can be hard to manage multiple characters in a scene at the same time. Here are some erroneous ways I’ve noticed some people tend to handle scenes with multiple characters:

1 - They take turns between all the characters, giving everyone random lines to pitch in when it’s their turn.

2 - They make characters who aren’t participating quietly watch on the sidelines without saying a word to the point that they’re no longer part of the scene and the audience may not even realize they’re there.

3 - They only make a couple people in the center of the conversation participate, and then when another character who has been quiet speaks up, the narrator says something like, “Cindy jumped. She had forgotten that Jack was here.”

The thing is, if someone is in a room with you, you won’t forget they’re there. You’re literally looking at them. That’s just code for the author forgot. Second thing is, some characters would quietly sit on the sidelines and watch a conversation, but it depends on their personality. If you have a loud, crude, confrontational character in a scene who’s quietly sitting and watching a conversation, that probably doesn’t fit. And if the character does have the personality to sit and watch, they still need to be present in the scene. That’s why I developed this technique to think about how to handle lots of characters in a scene:

Center, Side, and Spectator

In each big group scene, you can divide your characters into one of these three separate groups:

Center: These are the people that are at the center of the conversation. Whether that means they have a dominant personality or have authority in the conversation, they’re the ones who will be making lots of comments and be actively participating. Consider a family dinner, with your parents, grandparents, and a bunch of siblings and cousins. Generally (at my home at least) my parents try to have one dinner conversation, the one that they’re guiding. In this instance, they would be considered the “center.”

Side: These are the people that are present, in the same room where the main conversation is taking place, but they’re not part of the main conversation. Maybe they’re having a side conversation with their friend, or they’re listening to music, or simply just lost in thought. Taking the dinner table example, a bunch of siblings who are bored of mom and dad’s conversation might start up their own side conversation about something else. These two groups might overlap if mom looks at them, says, “Stop talking. We’re having a conversation here!” Thus, I call them side, since it’s something happening to the “side.”

Spectator: These are the people who are invested in the central conversation, but they aren’t actively participating. This might be a quiet character who doesn’t want to be at the center of attention, but who wants to hear the central conversation. In my dinner example, this might be my grandpa. My grandpa is quiet and doesn’t say much, but he listens. At the table, he would be listening to what is being said but wouldn’t be saying much to contribute to the conversation. He’s sitting by and watching, which makes him a “spectator.”

Using this technique, it can help you figure out where your characters would be in any given large group situation. Which group they are a part of will depend on their personality and their relationship with the people in the whole group setting, as well as the topics of conversation and their relationship to the plot. Here are some things to help think about which character would be where and what they would be doing:

Which characters would be dominating a large discussion? Are they all focusing on the same thing? Are some people present but not participating in the conversation?

When balancing a large cast, we need to know what everyone is doing. They don’t necessarily even need to talk, but they are present and the audience needs to know what they’re doing.

The villain frowned, batting it away. 

“Rude.”

“Are you ready to die?”

The villain blinks “You-”

The centre of her attention was a whirlpool, quicksand, the heart of a black hole. All-encompassing and without hope for escape. The most dangerous place in the universe. 

The hero met her gaze, and swallowed. There was no escape. Everyone knew that.

“You said you’d die for them, didn’t you?” the villain asked.

The ‘hero’ nodded, confused.

“Then do it.” The villain’s gun clattered at the hero’s feet.

The hero reached for the gun, fingers trembling as they skimmed the handle. They hesitated and withdrew, head bowed in shame.

“That’s what I thought,” the villain said, plucking their gun up.

“I’ll have to save them myself.”

The hero’s eyes grew wide with surprise. The villain sighed. “Well someone has to be the hero, and that somone isn’t you.”

“I was going to kill you. Then I remembered that pesky prophecy. You die and I’ll die too.” The villain hummed, easily dragging them backwards.

The hero had a sinking feeling. “Let go!” They snarled, reaching up to claw at the collar.

The protagonist swallowed hard at the question, heart skittering in their chest, breath quick and panting.

Hands slid down their sides, caressing their hips, along their thighs. The villain smiled at them,wickedly amused. “You’re not very good at playing the hero yet. So twitchy and scared. Bit off a bit more than you could chew, hm?”

“Yes,” the protagonist managed. Barely above a whisper. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Give me one good reason why I should,” the villain spoke after a moment of silence, their voice choked and cracking—the only sign of their fraying control. Their face was cold, still, but in their stormy eyes, rage and ice and pain and emptiness warred.

“Because I miss you. Because I hurt you and I never meant to and I would do anything to take it back. Because I loved you and I miss you and I am begging you to please, please, forgive me.”

The villain only twisted their lips into a cruel smile, a heartless and unfeeling gesture. “I like it when you say please. Do it again.”

The hero would normally bristle at the command in the words, at the complete disregard, but now… Now, they stepped toward the villain, looked straight into those dark, stormy eyes with every ounce of feeling that they had.

“Please,” they said again. Anything for the villain—for the villain, the hero would do anything, give up any part of themself, suffer any humiliation. “Please, come back to me.”

The villain only stared at the hero; blinked once, then twice, before stepping back, pulling away from the hero’s touch. They swallowed once, and then twice, and when they finally spoke, the single word was a gunshot ripping across the world.

“Hey!” They yelled, throwing a punch. The villain caught the punch and pushed them backwards.

“I should. You have no idea-”

“Yes,” says the vigilante.

“No,” says the hero.

The vigilante rolls xir eyes “We were undercover in the Ukraine and needed an excuse to be in the legislature building. We picked up wedding forms.”

“Technically, that wasn’t us, it was our false identities, who, may I remind you, are both legally dead. And fake.” the hero insists “I wouldn’t marry [Vigilante].”