Perfect characters are dull. Credit: Photo by Sami Keinรคnen/Flickr

Lately, Iโ€™ve been sharing some tips from my introduction to fiction writing classes with Closing Credits. One of the hardest parts of writing a compelling work is crafting a main character to stumble through it. Today, weโ€™re going to look at some basic tools to round them out and make sure they are more than a cardboard cutout being dragged through a story.

See also: Five Tips on Writing a Villain

Get a Real Flaw

A perfect protagonist is the most dull and pointless creature in all of art. Whether itโ€™s an invincible space marine or a glamorous socialite who everyone adores, these characters are more suited for guided meditation during empowerment therapy than written works. A truly great main character has a definite flaw, a rough edge that creates sparks when they rub up against the world. Hamlet was a depressive whose fits of melancholy prevented him from acting to prevent tragedy. Katniss Everdeen was an emotionally numb and self-centered survivor who never used her considerable skills to better the world until that world came for her family.

The trick I tell students is to imagine the person they love and respect the most in the world, like a romantic partner, parent, or best friend. Now, think about the thing that person does which annoys you the most, the aspect of their personality that has thwarted them from achieving something great. Boom, now you know how a good main character works.

Some Flaws to Avoid

Iโ€™ve had students try to cheat on the flaw before. The way they do that is by using not-really-flaws that you would tell someone in a job interview. My greatest weakness? I work too hard! That sort of thing. Students have told me their character is too nice, or too used to being the best that they canโ€™t relate to other people, or my favorite, โ€œmy character is permanently bored because everything is easy for them.โ€

Throw that kind of nonsense in the trash. In the hands of a master, those sorts of flaws can soar, but if youโ€™re reading this article, you arenโ€™t a master yet. Stick with something concrete that you can easily refer back to and use to write scenes. Thereโ€™s a reason so many pulp heroes are alcoholics. Itโ€™s not because all their creators were drunk (probably), but because thatโ€™s a really simple flaw to work with. The same is true with young adult protagonists who fixate on their parentsโ€™ expectations. All of this is highly relatable for most people, which is the goal.

The Importance of Companions

Longtime readers will already know of my affection for Doctor Who, and one of the greatest parts of that universe from a writing mechanical standpoint is the Doctor/companion set up. Depending on the episode, The Doctor or the companion is the main character, and then whoever isnโ€™t exists to bounce the plot and reactions off. The companion gives an extraordinary being a grounded view of the happenings and human emotional stakes, while The Doctor serves as a lore exposition dump for the mythology or a constant divine motivator/helper.

These relationships come in all forms in writing, from partners to lovers to rivals. What is important is having someone that can call attention to your characterโ€™s flaw, help them overcome it somehow (even by exploiting it), and acknowledge that it was done. Whether itโ€™s a spouse applauding a triumph or a villain cursing that the character was able to defeat them, there is someone else in the world that serves as a second reporting source on how far your main character has come with their impediment. It is the epitome of show donโ€™t tell.

Happy writing!

Jef Rouner (not cis, he/him) is a contributing writer who covers politics, pop culture, social justice, video games, and online behavior. He is often a professional annoyance to the ignorant and hurtful.