Overpopulation is a common problem in storytelling.
Here’s what happens. You have a main character, who’s trying to achieve some high-minded goal. But he’s a little… I dunno… boring? But you say to yourself, that’s okay because that’s just what a hero is like, right? He’s an “everyman” so that’s why he’s a chore to write.
The hero meets other characters – local eccentrics, perhaps. You love these characters. They’re so interesting. Almost (although you hate to admit it) more interesting than the main character. So they come along for the ride.
Maybe the hero meets a scowling enemy, who was supposed to be an obstacle. With the help of his friends, the hero overcomes this enemy, but you love this crusty bad guy. So the enemy joins the troupe.
Before you know it, your hero is part of an ensemble of characters. When the hero runs into trouble, his entourage can help out, tell the hero what to do, provide material assistance, pass a potion, hack a mainframe, clonk the villain on the back of the head with a frying pan.
They’re filled to the brim with eccentricity and quirk. Everyone says, “What wonderful characters! Although the story seem unfocused somehow…”
Your story has lost its way. You started with a character who had challenges and enemies. Now the challenges have been made easy, the enemies have been won over, and the main character has become an object that his more-lively troupe carry along.
Don’t get me wrong. Some stories can work as an ensemble piece. In TV, The Mary Tyler Moore Show was an ensemble comedy that remained firmly centred around the “normal” Mary Richards. But this “Centre and Eccentrics” structure is a hard trick to pull off, and you need to work hard to keep your main character in the thick of things. When the same production company followed the same strategy in WKRP in Cincinnati, the person who was supposed to be the central character, Andy Travis, seemed to fade in the light of his quirky co-workers.
The temptation to increase a story’s population is very powerful, and once you’ve added characters, it can be hard to remove them. You see this problem even in some very successful books. The Harry Potter series has a bad habit of surrounding its main character with helpful assistants. The story remains on Harry long enough to keep things moving, but the main character becomes steadily less interesting as the series progresses.
It also seemed to be a problem in Lord of the Rings. In one letter from 1944, Tolkien admits that his gardener sidekick, Sam Gamgee, is more interesting than his hero, Frodo: “Certainly Sam is the most closely drawn character, the successor to Bilbo of the first book, the genuine hobbit. Frodo is not so interesting, because he has to be highminded… The book will probably end up with Sam.” Tolkien knows how to tell a story, and keeps Frodo on track, but it takes a toll. At the end of the novel, Frodo is sick of life, but it feels more like Tolkien is sick of Frodo.
Overpopulation is a symptom of problems with the main character. Your hero must be determined, driven, interesting. If your main character starts to feel like an “everyman” (whatever that is!), then make improvements so he or she is more interesting to you. Add facets to make your hero a more interesting gemstone. Don’t try to liven up a drab hero by surrounding them with brighter jewels.
When you’ve created a lovable hero, you’re going to have a hard time giving them a hard time. Be a sadist! Put your hero through the grinder. When the situation is bad, don’t give them a helper – give them another problem that makes things even worse. And then figure out some unexpected, but plausible way the hero finds a solution on their own efforts. (Any good solution will take time to invent, and it will seem impossible at first, but you’ll figure out something!) That way, the hero stays admirable, likeable and interesting.
And your story won’t buckle under the weight of a dozen main characters.