A story’s protagonist is the most important person in the whole wide world — at least to the writer. But don’t we all wish that were also true for the readers?
Apart from the fact that it’s our character, and we love her dearly and are ready to defend her against anyone out there in the big bad world outside of her native story, we wouldn’t be doing a very good job if we plopped her into existence bare naked and callow, and unable to defend herself against the tides of time and forgetfullness, now would we?
The biggest enemy of a fictional character isn’t the antagonist, or the murderous plot, or even the baby trolls gnawing at the seams of the book, but unremarkableness–unremarkableability… erm… when readers ignore and forget her. *phew*
Memorability is the best weapon you can ever give your character even if you take everything else from her, like a glorious future, a kick-ass side-kick, or even a perfectly excusable extra piece of oven-warm, thick, juicy chocolate-fudge cake smothered in fresh whipped cream. So in the name of memorability, this post will focus solely on that extra umph added to an already three-dimensional character.
After all, there isn’t a single plot out there that hasn’t been done already in one way or another, but characters are so insanely varied, they’re the single most important component of originality. And we all want that, right? Riiiight?? Hands up who’s still thinking about that fudge cake!
If you’re not certain you’ve made your protagonist special enough, take a step back from the story and put on your reader glasses. Remember your favorite characters from other stories, from books you’ve read or movies you’ve seen. What made them different? What stuck with you against all odds, and through all the other stories you’ve come across in the mean time?
What makes a character interesting?
Sure, we remember them first and foremost for what they do, but their actions don’t mean much without the context of their personalities and their unique circumstances. Hitting a strange man over the head with a baseball bat means one thing if it’s done by a panic-striken housewife startled out of her bed, and quite another if it’s by a back-alley thug who’s short on cash.
Abstracting the core from all those wonderful, unique characters who leap off the page, only a handful of basic traits stand apart due to their quality of making characters unforgettable, no matter the spin you throw on top of them. So, a memorable character should–
1. Be extraordinary in some way
Depending on the story, extraordinary might mean:
- having a super-power (Spiderman),
- having a distinct social or political role (teacher, mayor, president; or a less authoritative one like nurse to newborns in a refugee camp),
- benefiting from a unique geographical position (living on a mountain, in a U-boat, on a space station),
- having a unique history (sole survivor of a cataclysm),
- being in an extraordinary situation at the moment of the inciting incident (chief fire-fighter on 9/11; the farmer on whose field the first aliens land).
2. Be humorous; have a refreshing perspective on things
Cracking a joke now and then doesn’t account for true story humor. A humorous character is marked by his unique, refreshing perspective on life and other characters, that offers the reader a much-appreciated break from their own view on things. This can be achieved in many ways, the best known of them being a generally sarcastic take on things, a character that takes himself much too seriously in circumstances that are increasingly ridiculous, or a character that’s a natural-born trouble and accident magnet but never despairs. I’m sure there’s more, but it must’ve slipped through my mind-holes.
3. Be outrageous, excentric or abnormal
Characters with dark secrets belong in this category, as do dubious family members, characters with conflicting morals or highly questionable motives, and the occasional misfit. You’ll also find pleasantly excentric ones in this category as well, the oddballs with an interesting characteristic or a funny tic, maybe with a preferance for live birds in their top hats, or a varied collection of human bones in their basement.
4. Be in danger, either by fighting injustice or by averting danger from others
We all love heroic characters, but heroism by accident or for the sake of making the front page is not an admirable quality. The characters we truly remember as heroes are the ones who put themselves in mortal danger, who risked their lives to fight for a just cause or to save others. It doesn’t really matter what type of character you push into such a situation, if they don’t miraculously overcome it or slip out of it by the end of chapter five, you’ve got yourself a winner. In terms of memorability, that is.
Oh, oh, here, I gots me one more!
5. Be either one of the following: a very famous real person, a non-human being with a mind of it’s own and a problem to solve, or the guy with the fudge cake.
*mmm, fuuudge* *Homer drool*
Did I miss any ingredients? Add your cherry on top!
About Vero
Very well put, Vero. A lot of stock gets put into narrative conflict (and for good reason, obviously), but I think the characters are the real driving force behind a story. After all, what good is the conflict if the characters involved aren’t compelling? If I don’t care about the protagonist, why should I care about the antagonist hassling him? Why should I care whether or not he makes it down that mountainside to safety?
I just started a new story recently, and I had a hell of a time starting it. I wrestled with the muse with for a good hour or so before getting even one line on the screen, and it was all due to character. The stakes are so high in that opening paragraph to make sure that character comes across as someone the reader will want to know. Sometimes I drive myself nuts worrying about it!
Thanks for the comment and the sneak peek into your creative process!
Openings are extremely important, but especially so in short stories. It takes a lot of care and attention to detail (and depth!) to start in such a “personal” manner that the reader cannot but care for the guy he’s just met. It’s sometimes maddening, I totally understand that. But your openings definitely make up for that struggle.
I don’t know if I entirely agree. Or perhaps it’s just that I’m tired of reading about the need for unique characters. Or more precisely, that the definition of a “unique” character most often requires such amped-up characteristics that they no longer feel real to me.
For example, every character I’ve beta-read lately was either: of a different race, sexuality, in a wheelchair, parents tragically died, in a car crash, lost a limb, etc. But in VERY FEW instances did that character’s circumstance contribute to or play a deciding factor in their journey through the story–rather, they seemed forcibly “unique” with no real vehicle for that uniqueness to mature.
I’m all for great characters. But I DO believe that a great character can be a brown-haired, blue-eyed Midwesterner with no discernible unique qualities on initial assessment. Many great stories have happened to average people. I hope to read more of them.
Thank you for the comment, Melanie!
I absolutely agree that giving a character any trait for the sole purpose of making that character stand out, but not making that characteristic count in the story is not a good thing. But that’s not what I meant with making a character interesting.
What I meant was that a character must be special instead of a dime a dozen, that he must be extraordinary instead of ordinary. The “everyman” that people want to read about does not mean the “boringman”, or the protagonist without a single trait to differentiate him from the tertiary & filler characters with page-long life-spans other than the fact that his/her point of view dominates in volume.
The examples you provided were indeed trying to make characters special by sticking them into costumes, but then going about them as if they wouldn’t wear any. And I agree that such characters are tiresome to read, and they are not “interesting” in any sense of the word. So I understand your being sick of them. And yes, there should be more average people in stories, but they should nonetheless also be interesting.
I finally made it back here to read comments again! And I have a comment for myself:
If all of us were the same, only one of us would be truly necessary.
We’re all unique. It’s the writing that has to glorify the interesting-ness, as you say, and I think where *some* writers have gone wrong is on the interpretation of “unique.” It does not mean a three-armed midget. It does not mean a homeless, blind kid with no family in the world who can speak to dogs. It means, tell me what’s so interesting about this individual? Why do I care about their story at all? Give me the SO, WHAT?–As my English teacher used to say.
“If all of us were the same, only one of us would be truly necessary.”
What an awesome thing to say, Melanie! I’ll quote you on this one.
You summed it up perfectly. It’s the writer’s job to show the special and unique in each character, and to build a special and unique story for them, a set of circumstances and individual problem(s) that the reader will remember (plot). If the characters are interchangeable, there’s probably need for better characterization.
Melanie,
I complely agree. Uniqueness that doesnt actually add anything to the plot or where the story is going is pretty redundant and often seems forced.
You’ve raised a good point.
However I do believe that often characters can be subtly unique in ways that lend themselves to driving the narrative.
Take Stu Redmond from Stephen King’s The Stand as an example. He’s just a pretty run of the mill texan guy at first glance, but he’s got some great human qualities which are explored and which drive the story forward – makign him a pretty unique kinda guy.
I agree with you, Simon, that characters can (and should) be subtly unique. They should be well rounded and multi-faceted, just like people in real life — maybe even more so. It’s usually the problem of the story (plot? situation? main conflict?) that forces the character out of his status of average and comfortable, but after that the character must bring something unique of his own to the plate.
Thank you for the comment!