1.  In most cases, a superhero has an origin story that explains 1) how he goes from ordinary to extraordinary and 2) why he chooses to fight for others. I’ll focus on #1 here.  The character starts out in a place where he doesn’t stick out and ends up in a place where he does.  For example, Superman and the Martian Manhunter become extraordinary by coming to Earth, where they are aliens.  Peter Parker, Virgil Hawkins, and too many scientists to name are regular people that gain superpowers in various accidents.  It is very rare for a superhero to start out life extraordinary.  For example, Harry Dresden is probably more of an urban fantasy character than a superhero in part because he has always been extraordinary (magical).

2.  Superhero origin stories also usually describe why the hero fights for others and his values.

• “With great power comes great responsibility”
• “Truth, justice and the American way”
• “I am vengeance” (or, beyond Batman’s origin story, his dispute with the libertarian Lucius Fox in Dark Knight).
• Tony Stark feels responsible for the weapons he sells

How does this make superheroes different from other types of protagonists?  First, I think that it is exceedingly rare for superheroes to be selfish.  (The only one I can think of is Booster Gold, and even he grows out of it).  A revenge-driven protagonist is often motivated by a wrong against himself (Play Dead), but almost every revenge-driven superhero is avenging a wrong against someone else (such as murdered parents).  Also, superheroes almost never get paychecks for their service, which is another thing that differentiates them from, say, most private eyes and detectives.  That reinforces that this is definitely a calling based on their values and not just a job.

3.  A superhero’s values usually play a major role in how (s)he reacts to the inciting event. For example, a vengeful hero is probably driven by the principle of “an eye for an eye.”  In contrast, Harry Potter reacts to the inciting event (the revelation that he’s a wizard) by going to Hogwarts.  There isn’t a major ethical component to that decision.  (One way to make it an ethical decision would be to have Harry choose to go to Hogwarts because he wants to join the fight against the tyrannical bad guys, but that only crops up later).

4.  Most superheroes have some sort of dual identity. The most obvious example of this is when the character keeps his alternate identity a secret.  Less obviously, a character like Ben Grimm the human is separated from Ben Grimm the Thing, even though he (sometimes) uses the same name and everybody knows his identity.  A lot of his personal development revolves around hiim trying to recover his previous identity and/or deal with his new one.  Also, there is generally a clear physical differentiation between the two identities, such as a costume, a uniform, or a physical transformation. In most cases, the extraordinary identity looks very unusual.

5.  Superheroes and their villains have capabilities far beyond the scope of the possible. Some combination of magic, science fiction and intense training usually play a role.  (Even if a middle-aged playboy could possibly train himself so well that he can maul truckloads of criminals, it doesn’t actually happen.  Unless Steve Jobs is using pancreatic cancer as a cover for a very interesting nightlife).  This is why I think Zorro and Robin Hood are precursors to superheroes rather than the real deal.

6.  The story is almost always set primarily in a modern-day or near-futuristic city on Earth. Even the extraterrestrials and space cops do most of their work on Earth.  Historical superheroes are not quite unheard of but pretty close (League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, maybe Zorro).

7. This is controversial, but I think it’s sort of subconsciously understood that superhero stories are aimed at youngish males. (This is ironic, because the key demographic for superhero comic books is actually men aged 18-30). For example, Jake Long and Buffy the Vampire Slayer are both ordinary teens that are called upon to save their communities from supernatural evil. Both have a secret identity. But Jake Long is much more consistently referred to as a superhero than Buffy is: for example, the word “superhero” is used in the IMDB, TV Guide and Wikipedia entries for Jake Long, but not Buffy. Two key differences come to mind: first, Jake Long is aimed mainly at boys 8-13, whereas Buffy’s audience skews older and has more women. Second, Buffy’s alternate identity does not look very extraordinary. (In contrast, Jake Long turns into a dragon, or Superman puts on a gaudy cape and tights, or Ben Grimm gets turned into a golem, etc).

What do you think?

1) Winning a battle with raw strength is rarely interesting. When people rave about the Matrix fight scenes, they mention the insane acrobatics, not Neo’s ability to slam a crater into the ground. X-Men 2’s White House scene was far more gripping than anything the Hulk has ever done. It’s hard to surprise your readers with a character that’s just super-strong. It may help to give your character a minor power or two to help him mix it up.

2) It’s hard to write dramatic fights for superstrong, supertough characters. A fight can only be dramatic if the protagonist faces some plausible threat.  But if the hero can survive a bullet to the eye and is only vulnerable to an extremely rare mineral, then that means that only a supervillain can have an interesting fight with him.  In contrast, Batman and Spiderman can have interesting fights with bank robbers and other low-powered thugs.

3) Incredible feats of strength are usually cheesier than feats of agility. Readers can accept even the most ridiculous acrobatic stunts. For example, Live Free or Die Hard (which isn’t even a superhero movie) was believable even though its acrobatic stunts made Batman look clumsy.  In contrast, it was damn cheesy when the Hulk threw a tank and Superman pushed a planet out of its orbit.

4) It’s very hard to apply superstrength creatively. If a superhero can only solve problems with brute strength, it will get tedious very quickly.  It might help to give your superhero a minor power or two so that he can mix things up a bit.

5) Superstrength is generic. That’s both an asset and a liability.  Readers can understand generic powers more easily.  But you’ll have to work harder to distinguish a superstrong character from other superstrong characters because there are so many of them.

6) Superstrong characters are harder to relate to. Humans are vulnerable; Superman isn’t.

Characters

Lash: He’s a New York superhero that’s most notable for accidentally saving the world and habitually testing the proposition that blacks are always the first to die.

Agent Orange: he’s an alien that runs the Office of Special Investigation’s Human Resources. Because the party line is that there aren’t any aliens on Earth, his cover-story is that he’s a mutated alligator. He’s a highly violent idealist and has a quasi-religious devotion to Florida Gators football. Hence “Orange.”

Agent Black: Agent Orange’s partner. Most notable for being unambiguously sane and proving that Blacks are always the first to die.

Jacob Mallow: He’s most notable for being a star chemical engineer and (more and more) ambiguously sane. He’s the novel’s main supervillain.

Dr. Berkeley/Catastrophe: He’s a prodigal scientist who is unwittingly drawn into Jacob Mallow’s plot. Along the way he gets turned into a cartoon chacter. He’s most notable for solving his own murder.

Mike: Among OSI agents, he’s notable for memory deletion and lacking a secret identity (and, as far as anyone knows, a last name). Also notable for not needing either. He heads OSI-RETCON, the agency devoted to keep the public unaware of aliens and other unpleasant information.

Captain Carnage: A Massachusetts soldier hiding his identity by taking on an outlandishly Texan persona. Best known in Massachusetts for reckoning that Texas was the smartest place in South America. Fluent in eight languages, including (of course) Mexican.

Dr. Darpa: A quirky researcher that’s never more than a carton of baking soda away from a doomsday device.

Other Relevant Nouns

Social Justice League: a band of mostly liberal super-New Yorkers. Most notable for making the rest of New York look normal by comparison.

OSI: the Office of Special Investigations. This federal agency has jurisdiction over “special crime,” a hazy concept that usually involves capes and death-rays. It is not a partisan organization, but it’s not exactly a secret that an organization run by Captain Carnage and Agent Orange is not a hippie hangout. Most notable for introducing the phrase “capture-kill” to the English language.

The Ku Klux Klan Act of 1871: the gift that keeps on giving. Passed during the Grant administration, it establishes federal authority over any felony committed by a masked offender. It’s the main reason that supervillains are less likely to wear masks and take on secret identities than heroes are.

OSI-Human Resources: This branch handles recruitment and training. Most notable for being distinctly human-deficient.

OSI-RETCON: This branch handles unpleasant evidence by presenting counter-theories too nutty to disprove. Most notably associated with New York steam pipes, communist media conspiracies, and mutated reptiles. RETCON collaborates closely with SETI, the Systematic Elimination of Troublesome Information.

New York City: You need to get out more, don’t you? Any American can tell you that NYC is where the vast majority of the world’s weirdness happens and where every decent superhero makes his big break. When you combine power, wealth, cultural resonance, a citywide messianic complex, success, cynicism, swagger, good intentions and more than a little self-absorption, it’s no wonder that you have a city that’s always been the heart and soul of superhero culture.

The New York Times: New York’s largest newspaper. Most notable for making RETCON theories seem plausible.

The Empire State Building: architectural masterpiece, ley line focal point, or intergalactic homing beacon? All of the above, probably. That might explain why New York is inexplicably victimized by all sorts of crazy weirdness and otherwise fantastically strange events that generally miss the rest of the world. (Not that I’m complaining; I kind of like property value).

The sewers: not the most appealing place to live but considerably more affordable than anywhere in the city. Most notable for mutated animals and really mediocre supervillains.

Surf City: South Carolina’s biggest city and barely America’s tenth (take that, San Jose). Most notable for a song celebrating its manly virtues and for becoming an absolute freakshow every summer. (The Sunbelt does funny things to people.)

Hegemon: the hottest cartoon show in America (“Gotta kill ‘em all!”). Most notably, the best argument against Japanese children.

hegemon (non-capitalized): a dominant country. (How can you have a superhero story without a superpower?)

Hegemonopoly: a popular board game usually won by whoever can complete the hegemonopoly on Exploding Sheep, Untargeted Assassinations and Death by Slaughter. Not that National Missile Defense and The Big Red Button aren’t great too, but no one ever lands on them.

Katastrofy: the show’s main villain and, relatedly, the second-best argument against replacing C’s with K’s.

Peacechu: Careful. It evolves into Riotchu.

Heroes, Inc: “We keep you safe for less!” A for-profit supergroup whose main clients are New York businesses that can’t turn to the Social Justice League or wait for the feds. Most notable for being loathed by both the League and the Office of Special Investigations.

FBI: The Federal Bureau of Investigations is the more normal counterpart to the Office of Special Investigations. Most notable for agents that don’t wear masks, use ridiculously goofy names or have catchphrases. If you needed this glossary to tell you what the FBI was, I really hope that you don’t vote in American elections.

The Jurassic Arc: an area of Florida. Notably, the main argument in favor of environmental reform. Also the main argument in favor of moving to Chernobyl. Most notable for a glut of mutated crocodiles that actually are mutated crocodiles (and not aliens).

Crackodiles: Agent Orange’s term of endearment for these “mutated wastes of oxygen.” Crocodiles aren’t fond of (fake) alligators, either.