20 tips for creating relatable – and lovable – protagonists

Photo by Alex Brown

Photo by Alex Brown

Keep them reading. That’s our mission, right? And there’s nothing that can hook any reader faster and stronger than a protagonist they can relate to, like, and therefore care about. This is one half of the D in AIDA:

The D in AIDA

So what makes a character likeable?

I took inventory of the most likeable attributes of some of my favorite characters. I also borrowed some of the best advice from the Internet, and compiled it all here for your reading pleasure! Not all of this will apply to every character, but pick the right handful of traits for your hero, work two or three of them into your first page, and you’ll be well ahead of the average aspiring novelist.

Stuff that makes us connect with them

  • They enjoy things – especially the simple things. People who don’t enjoy anything are whiny. People who like things are fun to be around, both in real life and in books
  • They have flaws, but not unforgivable ones – flaws they must realize and overcome (Donald Maass writes about flaws and strengths here)
  • When they make bad choices, there are consequences – otherwise it’s a Mary Sue
  • They express universal truths – this doesn’t have to be deeply philosophical, just a little detail that everyone notices but nobody has put into words yet. Like how hard is it to drive in high heels (okay, maybe that one’s semiversal).
  • They want something deeply for personal reasons – this is the most important trait. They are in love. They are slaves. They’ve never met their real father. Etc. Even if your protagonist is a villain trying to take over the universe, he should have a personal reason for doing it (e.g., so that no one can ever hurt him again). We should feel this on the first page.

Stuff that’s just plain likeable

  • They have pets – especially if the pet is stupid, ugly, or smelly
  • They have the chance to be mean but aren’t – even characters who are jerks most of the time, but nice to one person (who must be weak or an underdog), or are nice when it matters most, are lovable (Blake Snyder calls this “saving the cat“)
  • They don’t realize how awesome they are – other characters like them better than they like themselves (this doesn’t mean they need to be totally insecure – just a little)

 

Stuff that makes us root for them

  • They are unlucky – Stanley Yelnats from Holes is unlucky but perpetually hopeful anyway, and it makes us love him
  • They defend the innocent – and/or stand up for the underdogs
  • They want to run away from danger, but don’t – the definition of courage
  • They are loyal – even a character who lies, cheats, and steals, but still sticks up for his friends, is likable

Book Country advises:

  • We don’t have to like what they do: we have to understand why they do it
  • Never let coincidence help a good character

Elise Broach adds:

  • They should be in love or in trouble (or both) on the first page
  • Avoid whiny, passive or cruel
  • Shoot for: spunk, persistence, courage, kindness, ingenuity, loyalty, humour
  • But be careful with spunk/sass – now getting overused
Neil Landau and Matt Frederick suggest these devices for getting to know your character:
  • Create memorable entrances – what would you notice about them meeting them the first time? Their charm, or clumsiness? Their laugh, or their uneasy silence?
  • Use props – what your character carries with him everywhere, or keeps in an honored place in his bedroom, can tell you a lot about him

QUESTION FOR THE COMMENTS: What protagonists do you connect with most? What makes you like them?

Stay tuned: next week, we’ll talk about more stuff you need to include in the first pages.

puppy dog

Ways to make your readers love your main character.

Show Don’t Tell: prove it

Telling is claiming. Showing is proving.

Even acknowledging what I said in my last post on Show, Don’t Tell, the fact remains: when it comes to character development, “show don’t tell” translates to “actions speak louder than words.” And it’s especially important with our main characters.

For instance, I can tell you that my hero is brave and kind, but humble—but you have no reason to believe me.

I can tell you that my villain is brilliant but evil and unspeakably cruel—but you have no reason to believe me.

I can tell you that my heroine is gentle and naïve yet strong—but you have absolutely no reason to believe me.

I have made several claims, but they are nothing but opinion at best, hearsay at second best, and outright lies at the worst. I haven’t given you any proof.

The actions are the proof.

Prove bravery by making that hero scared out of his mind as he rides into battle or stands up to the bully. Prove his kindness and humility as he pretends to prefer to stand on the subway when he’s really giving up his seat to an elderly man. Show the growth of his character by upping the stakes and changing his behavior as the story progresses. What he runs from in the first chapter, make him charge at in the final chapter. What he hides from the people closest to him early on, make him bare to the world at the climax.

Prove the intelligence of your villain by making him a chess champion or a con artist or a troubled child whose parents locked him in the library to punish him. If he is a business man destroying the competing mom-and-pop store, he shouldn’t just outsell them; he should soil their reputation and win the loyalty of their customers, and know all the legal loopholes to get himself off scot-free. He should outsmart both your readers and your hero throughout the story, and when he is defeated in the end it shouldn’t be because he made a stupid mistake. Prove evil and cruelty by making him abuse an old man, a little girl, his wife. Have him murder his best friend or his brother.

Prove the gentleness of your heroine by making her go out of her way to set a mouse free instead of killing it. Prove her naivety by having her trust the villain when he says he’s trying to turn his life around. And prove her strength by making her fight her own battle; she’s the one digging up legal proof of the villain’s guilt while the hero is out sparring with his lackeys in alley ways. Or she’s the queen trying to stifle a political coup while the king is away at war.

If there is any character trait you want to convey, give that character something that tests that area. Give them a chance to show who they are. Make a patient man wait years for his girlfriend to say yes to a ring. Make a determined woman who has just escaped slavery face poverty and discrimination and sickness before she finds her happiness.

Then, your readers will not only believe that your hero is brave, your villain is evil, and your heroine is strong—they will argue with you if you try to tell them otherwise. That is the power of Show, Don’t Tell.

Read more!

How to get rid of background exposition

How to “show” in description

Show Don’t Tell: If you must tell, have something to show for it

Continuing the series on Show, Don’t Tell.

I have this awful habit of writing little narrative “character sketches” devoid of dialogue or action; simply summarizing the personalities of my heroes. I was all set to write a post about how to avoid this—with the “actions speak louder than words” approach I touched on in this post—but Wednesday morning, Mark Twain changed my mind.

I had settled in to read a little Huck Finn for twenty minutes while I ate breakfast. And there—yes, really—was a character sketch.

This naturally gave me second thoughts on the contents of this blog post. But as I kept reading, I realized my initial thoughts weren’t wrong—just a bit simplistic. Because here’s the thing: to show, you have to tell.

After all, we’re not making picture books here. All we have are words. What can you do with words besides tell? The trick is to figure out what you want to show, and then use telling to do it.

Example!

Here’s a little of what Huck, our first person narrator, says in his character sketch:

Col. Grangerfield was a gentleman, you see. He was a gentleman all over; and so was his family. He was well born, as the saying is, and that’s worth as much in a man as it is in a horse, so the Widow Douglas said, and nobody ever denied that she was of the first aristocracy in our town; and pap he always said it, too, although he warn’t no more quality than a mud-cat, himself…

…There warn’t no frivolishness about him, not a bit, and he warn’t ever loud. He was as kind as he could be—you could feel that, you know, and so you had confidence. Sometimes he smiled, and it was good to see, but when he straightened himself up like a liberty-pole, and the lightning began to flicker out from under his eyebrows you wanted to climb a tree first, and find out what the matter was afterwards. He didn’t ever have to tell anybody to mind their manners—everybody was always good mannered where he was.

All telling. Telling in a perfectly charming way, but telling nonetheless. Note, however, that he’s not telling us anything important. This character doesn’t last more than a chapter or two. So why the time spent on him?

Because by telling about Grangerfield, Twain is showing much more:

Society of the time: Huck’s mention of “well born,” and of the opinions of his father and the Widow Douglas—characters on completely opposite ends of the personality and status spectrum—shows us something about the beliefs of the time.

Huck’s character: we learn what a kind, decent person Huck thinks Grangerfield is. We later discover the family is feuding (pointlessly, as you’d expect) with a neighbor family. When a Grangerfield girl runs away to marry a boy from the rival family, the feud escalates into a bloody battle. Rather than changing his mind about the family, Huck blames himself for their deaths, as he had unwittingly helped deliver a message between the two lovers.

So this little bit of telling about a minor character actually serves to show us a lot about our main character.

The takeaway? If you find you must “tell” something, stop and ask yourself what that telling shows. What are your words indirectly illustrating? If it shows only what it tells, rewrite.

But if by telling a little, you show a lot—you’re good!

Voice Week 2011: Friday

Ah…the end of an incredible week. The project turned out better than I possibly could have expected. I think we’ve all learned a lot, had a lot of fun–and written some amazing stuff.

And as I write this now, there are still a few un-posted pieces to look forward to! Keep reading up on everyone’s fantastic work here. And tune in Monday for a recap of the entire week–plus the drawing (announcement) of our first prize winner!

 

I struggled for a bit with this one, but finally got into it when I decided it should be a first-day-of-school homework assignment.

See what you think:

What did you do this summer?

This summer I tried one of mommy’s drinks. I wanted to see what it tasted like because she drinks it all the time and I thought it would be o.k. if I had just a taste but she was mad. It tasted bad. Worse than medicine. It burnt my throat and I felt sick. I asked her why she drank that bad stuff. Then she threw it and it hit the wall and almost hit me but I moved. Sometimes it scares me when she gets mad, but it’s o.k. because when she’s done being mad she’s nice and sometimes we go out for Snickers bars.

From the prompt “alcoholic mother.” Read the other versions: Day 1Day 2Day 3Day 4

Who does the character feel like to you? How old, what gender? Where did you think the voice was strong or weak? Let me know!

Voice Week 2011: Thursday

Voice Week is almost over! I can hardly wait to read the genius work tomorrow, but it’ll be sad to see it end!

I decided to travel back in time for today’s piece.

If the woman had a single flaw, her flaw was weakness; weakness for the caresses of wandering sirs who were more knave than knight, and weakness for spirits when they left her for their more elegant wives. With tender, purplish splotches here and there on her once-lovely face, she would sit hunched over the bottle, her feet spread wide beneath her skirt, abandoning the feminine charms with which she so often veiled her pain. My father very likely had noble blood, but I cannot imagine he had a noble heart to match it.

From the prompt “alcoholic mother.” Read the other versions: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 5

 

Who does the character feel like to you? How old, what gender? Where did you think the voice was strong or weak? Let me know!