Workshop 5

August 25, 2025

Kristina L. Wildes

Set the Mood First

You know how this begins by now. The moment you press play, everything else fades out.

Let the pulse of it settle into your bloodstream. Let it stir something that’s been waiting quietly in the dark.

This is not a moment for calm reflection. This is the buildup. The slow tension. The edge before the drop.

Opening Song: “Voices” by Hidden Citizens

Before we go any further, I want to address something briefly. I know some of the SoundCloud tracks haven’t been available in Qatar, and more frustrating still, some of the songs I want to share with you don’t even exist on SoundCloud at all.

While I would rather not nudge anyone toward a specific platform, Spotify currently offers the most reliable and emotionally rich library for the tone we’re building together here. I’ll keep working on finding alternatives when possible, but in the meantime, this is what I have.

Now, let’s talk about what’s coming.

This week, the spotlight shifts. It moves away from your protagonist. It leaves the villain in the shadows for now. Instead, it turns to someone else. Someone watching.

Someone who didn’t throw the first stone, but still got hit by the debris.

This is where your secondary characters begin to react. This is where the consequences land.

Now scroll. Let’s begin.

Where We Left Off

Over the past few weeks, you have laid down the foundation for something more than just a story. You have begun crafting an emotional architecture built from decisions, consequences, and desire.

It began with a promise, one that reshaped the entire dynamic between your hero and villain and left us questioning who truly held the power in that moment. From there, you revealed what your characters truly wanted, not just on the surface, but deep within. That is the space where ambition collides with fear and memory.

You did not simply push your characters into action. You forced them to stand at the edge of something irreversible, something that could not be taken back once set in motion.

In the last workshop, we took a step back and looked at what all of that meant in context. You shaped the world around their choices. You added texture, tension, and atmosphere. The environment began to respond, reflecting the internal shifts happening within your characters. It was no longer just a backdrop. It became part of the story’s pulse.

But this week, we shift perspective even further.

Because every decision your main characters make sends ripples through the story. And someone else is standing in the wake of that wave. This workshop is not about those who started the storm. It is about the one who quietly weathered it. It is about the character who was nearby, not at the center of the conflict, but close enough to feel the heat. The one who heard the argument through the wall. The one who noticed when someone left and knew they would not return the same. The one who picks up the pieces no one else notices have begun to fall.

In great fiction, the impact of a decision rarely ends with the one who made it. This week, you are writing from the perspective of someone caught in the aftermath. Someone whose life is about to change because of what they saw, heard, or finally understood.

Their story matters. And sometimes, their perspective is the one that truly turns the page.

This Week’s Prompt

Write from the perspective of a secondary character reacting to the fallout

Step away from the spotlight.

Your main character has held center stage long enough, but stories are rarely told in isolation. Every decision your protagonist makes echoes outward. For every bold action or whispered confession, someone else is watching, listening, or absorbing the consequences. This week, you are not writing from the center. You are writing from the edge.

Shift your narrative focus to a secondary character, someone who has witnessed everything from a different vantage point. Perhaps it is the trusted ally who suddenly begins to question their loyalty. Maybe it is a sibling who notices the change no one else wants to see. It could be the lover who recognized the truth long ago but said nothing. Or the spy who has been waiting patiently to act, choosing silence while collecting information. You might also choose a quieter presence, someone who never asked to be involved but now holds a secret that could unravel everything.

Ask yourself, what does this character now understand that they didn’t before?

What did they witness that shifted their perspective? Have they noticed something your protagonist has yet to see? Do they feel betrayed, liberated, resentful, or terrified by what has happened? And most importantly, what do they choose to do about it?

Do they step forward and confront the truth head-on, even at personal cost? Do they protect what they know, shielding others or manipulating the moment for their own gain? Or do they finally move into action, quietly but decisively, in a way that disrupts the course of the narrative?

This week is about tension, perspective, and revelation. Your goal is to write a scene that changes the emotional current of your story. Let this secondary character reshape the energy on the page. Give them the voice they deserve. Their presence should deepen the relationships around them or raise new questions. Their actions might expose a truth your protagonist was not ready to face. Or they may offer clarity in a moment filled with shadows.

The person standing in the background might be the key to what happens next.

Let It Sink In

It is time to shift the emotional current.

This week's scene deserves more than just introspection. It calls for stillness, reflection, and the kind of tension that lingers long after the noise fades.

Reflective Song: “Ashes” by HELIN

This track carries regret like smoke through a battlefield.

This track moves like regret drifting through the air after everything has already burned. It is the sound of silence finally settling in. The kind that comes when the damage has been done and nothing can be taken back.

Let it play while you think about your secondary character.

This is the moment they see what no one else does. The instant they realize what has shifted forever. It may be loss. It may be guilt. It may be the terrifying freedom of knowing something they cannot unlearn.

Let them sit in it. Let it fill the space around them. Then write what happens next. Not with dramatic declarations, but with precision. With weight. With honesty.

This is not the aftermath of action. This is the still point of transformation.

Your Goal This Week

Write three to five pages.

This week, your task is to step into another mind and let that shift change everything. Use a different lens to view the story, one that does not belong to your main character. You are not required to write in first person, but the emotional center of gravity should clearly move to the secondary character. This is their moment.

Give them presence. Let them stand fully in the frame. If they have been overlooked, sidelined, or silent up until now, allow them the freedom to speak, think, and choose. Let them act.

Agency means more than movement. It means making a decision that carries weight. It means they are not just reacting to someone else’s choices, but actively shaping the direction of the story, even if only for a few pages. Their internal world should matter as much as the actions they take. What they feel, what they hide, and what they decide to reveal should all deepen the complexity of the narrative.

This is where tension multiplies. This is the scene that forces a shift.

Your secondary character may cause a fracture. Or they may unexpectedly become the glue that holds something together. Either way, what they do must create impact. It should complicate a relationship, open a door to something new, or expose a truth that cannot be ignored.

Write three to five pages that make space for this change.

It is not a detour. It is a turning point.

Craft Focus: The Power of Perspective

Secondary characters are not placeholders. They are not just extras filling space behind your protagonist. They are pressure points in your story’s anatomy, and when pressed at the right moment, they disrupt everything in the best possible way.

This week, your focus is on perspective. Specifically, what changes when the story is no longer filtered through the eyes of your main character. When you shift the lens, you also shift the priorities, the loyalties, and the emotional stakes. Suddenly, the narrative weight bends in a different direction.

Ask yourself:

• What does this character want that the main character has not noticed?

• What are they holding back, either out of fear, strategy, or resentment?

• How do they interpret the events unfolding around them?

• What is their relationship with the truth? Do they see it clearly, or are they rewriting it to fit their own version of reality?

• Are they loyal? Or are they playing a long game, waiting for the right moment to break away?

These are not just background roles. They are part of the living structure of your narrative. The more complexity you give them, the more tension you create in the world around your protagonist.

Great fiction does not isolate a single voice. It builds a web of influence, choice, and consequence.

This week, pull one of those threads. Follow it. And let it snarl everything in its path.

Want to Share

If this week's work opened up a side character you didn't expect to love, or made you want to shake your protagonist by the shoulders, I want to hear about it.

Email your scene, your favorite moment, or even your questions.

Or leave a comment with one line your secondary character said that changed everything.

Because sometimes, the most dangerous person in the room isn’t the one with the sword.

It’s the one watching with a smile.

Next Week: Workshop 6 Preview

You have built tension across every scene.You have crossed emotional and narrative lines that cannot be uncrossed.

Now the silence is beginning to fracture.

In Workshop 6, we will turn toward confrontation. Not the kind you hear coming with raised voices or the clash of weapons, but the kind that arrives quietly. Deliberately. The kind that lives in words chosen with precision and restraint.

Next week is not about grand gestures. It is about the conversation that changes everything.

The accusation spoken in a whisper.The reveal that drops without warning.The ultimatum delivered without flinching.

Someone is going to say what they have been holding back.

The only question is, who will be brave enough to hear it?

Final Thoughts

This is the turning point where your world begins to gain depth.

You are no longer just driving plot forward or layering action on top of action. You are stepping into perspective, consequence, and emotional fallout. This is the point where characters stop existing only for what they do, and begin to matter for how they respond, how they hurt, and how they change when no one is watching.

You have written the moment of impact.

Now it is time to write what lingers afterward.

The echoes of your story are just as important as the events that caused them. A glance can say more than a sword. A pause can carry more weight than a scream. And a single realization, in the right hands, can shift everything that follows.

So lean into the quiet moments. Let the tension coil instead of explode. Let your characters unravel each other in silence.

This is where your story earns its gravity.

Keep weaving.

Keep daring.

Keep writing.

I’ll see you next week.

-Kristina