A lot of times we start writing with a big concept in mind rather than the details: the conflicts, nuances of a character or their story. That’s understandable. Concepts are exciting. But a concept can quickly put down its foot and say, “I’m the most important thing here.” And yet, a job or career is instant world-building and also puts your character in interaction with others.
Not only will your character’s chosen field free up your narrative space for other things, it’s something you can always come back to when you’re lost. What are your character’s actual life skills? Who do they tend to meet or cross paths with, and how can you use those to accelerate the plot?
This is far from nonnegotiable—sometimes you’re writing a character ungrounded in life—maybe their path is still uncertain. And yet a job can be easy shorthand for your character’s desires: thwarted, achieved, or otherwise.
That said there are possible downsides. Since writers do stick to what they know more often than not, the campus novel is well-covered territory. Likewise, giving your characters the job of “novelist” isn’t the flex you think it is after fifty years of postmodernism. To do either means you should try for a big swing. I already took “Campus novel but add a rabies-like virus.”
