1. You can use supersenses to develop an unusual point of view.  For example, maybe a nonhuman is supernaturally talented at perceiving something highly relevant to his species and/or culture.  (E.g. if an alien comes from a desert world, maybe he’s supernaturally aware of temperature and moisture and can apply those to social interactions—a human’s body temperature increases in stressful situations, for example).   Alternately, perhaps the character is a skilled hunter (e.g. Wolverine).  A musically-inclined characters might be able to hear emotions in a character’s voice that most people couldn’t, which may be useful in high-stakes social situations.

1.1. If the character has developed superpowers fairly recently, he/she may be blown away by extremely strong sensory experiences.  That is one possible way to show how a character’s superpowers affect his/her perspective.  Hat-tip to R.G. in the comments below.

2. You can do a scene or plot arc that hinges on only one character perceiving something.  For example, Daredevil’s senses allow him to figure out who’s lying pretty quickly, but he still has to prove it to actually break the case.  Alternately, you could do a plot where only one character can perceive a particular threat and needs to either deal with it himself or convince others that he’s not crazy.

3. Superpowers can cover a few inconvenient plot holes, especially for superhero stories.  

• How did Superman know that the bank was being robbed just then? (He heard the alarm from across town). 
• How does the superhero beat the police to finding the supervillain?  Supersenses may play a role here—a hero might glean information from a crime scene that they missed, or pick up a trail that they missed.  Note that this doesn’t actually have to be a superpower.  For example, Sherlock Holmes and Bruce Wayne are both attentive but it’s not supernatural, unlike (say) x-ray vision.  Alternately, maybe the hero’s senses aren’t that much better, but the hero has resources and/or tactics and/or contacts the police don’t have and/or won’t consider.  
• A highly perceptive character might be more aware to characters surreptitiously trying to communicate something while being observed by hostiles.  For example, if Clark Kent calls Lois Lane and she says she’s okay but sounds subtly distressed, that might tip him off that she’s actually being held at gunpoint by a kidnapper or burglar.   Another possibility is that heightened senses can help partners/teammates coordinate while being observed.  For example, in a superhero story, if a supervillain and his goons meet the superheroes in an attempt to blackmail the heroes, one hero might cue another that he’s about to attack.  It could be useful in maintaining the element of surprise.   

4. Heightened senses (superhuman or otherwise) can play a variety of roles in a story, particularly a detective story. 

• Senses can tip off a character to another character’s intentions and/or a dangerous situation.  For example, if a mysterious person approaches the protagonist, the ability to perceive a concealed weapon could really help the hero understand what’s going on.
• Heightened senses can really help in studying a crime scene and figuring out what happened.   For example, if the police are stumped about how a victim was murdered in his house without any sign of forced entry, a lingering waft of perfume at the crime scene might indicate to a highly perceptive protagonist that the murderer was probably romantically involved with the victim.

• The characters’ personalities and key traits.
• Their goals.
• Their unusual decisions.
• Their voices.
• The scenes the characters use the superpowers in.
• Secondarily, any unique touches on your superpowers and how you portray them.

1.  Names of characters and teams/organizations.  Character names are pretty easy to change, so publishers probably won’t reject an otherwise publishable manuscript because the names aren’t good enough.  Nor would I expect incredible names to convince a publisher to accept a manuscript that would otherwise have been unpublishable.

If you’re worried about the names in your story, I’d recommend using generic placeholders until something you like better comes to mind.   (If you write John Smith, Super-Lad or another despicably bland name a few hundred times, your dissatisfaction will force you to come up with a better name).

1.1. Copyright considerations.  If the issue is just that your character has the same name as a fairly obscure Marvel or DC hero, this is probably not a huge problem.  The publisher might ask you to change the name, but that’s such an easy change that it would probably not scare away publishers.  However, publishers might pass if the copyright issues are more integral to the plot and cannot be changed as easily, particularly if the concept is very similar to a well-known character.  The easier it would be to change, the less likely it is to scare publishers.  (Alternately, you’re fine if you’re covered by “fair use”).

2.  Superpower selection.  If you stay away from superpowers that make it too hard to challenge the characters, pretty much everything else can work.  The story will be a bit easier to write if the superpowers are versatile and it’ll be a bit easier to read if the powers require little explanation.  Besides that, I don’t think superpower selection matters very much.  It probably won’t make the difference between a story that’s worth reading and one that isn’t.

I’d recommend focusing more on how to use the powers to create an interesting story.   For example…

• What are some ways you could use your story’s powers to create interesting experiences?  (For example, maybe John gets hit in the face by Kansas at a million miles per hour rather than “John teleported to Kansas”). Please see #3 and 3.1 here for more details.
• How can you use the powers to show us things we haven’t seen before?
• How do the character’s powers affect his perspective and/or personality?

3. Costumes (in a novel).  Costumes will almost assuredly not affect the reading experience in a novel in any substantial way.  You could assign colors by throwing darts at a color wheel and pretty much nobody would notice. Unless the costume is extremely bizarre (like something made out of human flesh), it definitely won’t affect the publishability of a novel manuscript.  In a comic book submission, a really hideous costume might raise questions about your artists’ style, which is a more serious problem.

4. Minor demographic details, like hair/eye color, weight, race, etc.  Unless these details are significant to the plot or developing the character or otherwise used to make an impression, they don’t matter much.  I’m a bit alarmed when authors agonize over things like hair color.  Unless the detail actually matters, don’t worry about it.  Just pick something and go with it.

A parting thought: If you’ve put more thought into the main character’s costume and/or superpowers than personality and defining traits, I’d recommend going back to the drawing board.  When editors and publisher’s assistants evaluate a novel manuscript, their reader’s reports will usually mention the characterization, the plot and the quality of the writing, etc. Superpowers and costumes, not so much.

1. Have the character(s) put the superpowers to different uses.  If you’ve already had your characters stop a bank robbery, it might be more interesting to have them prevent an assassination or conduct a high-speed chase or solve a difficult crime that has already happened than, say, stop a robbery at a jewelry store.  Varying your scenes gives you a better chance to leave readers guessing about what will happen and how.

2. Please try some different obstacles and hazards, hopefully something the character isn’t used to.  For example, if a character can fly 100+ miles per hour, an ordinary car chase probably won’t be very interesting because there’s so little challenge.  For example, what if there’s a massive windstorm (either natural or controlled by a superpower or magic)?  Chicago had 50+ mph winds a few days ago and it was hard enough to walk without getting knocked over, so I can only imagine how difficult it would have been to chase someone in the air.  If the character is used to using his powers in a very deliberate and methodical way (e.g. like a telepath might benefit from concentration or Batman might benefit from preparation), what will he do in a fast-moving crisis that caught him by surprise?*

*Don’t try to tell me that “OF COURSE BATMAN WAS READY FOR A SHARK ATTACK–THAT’S WHY HE HAD EXPLODING SHARK REPELLENT.”  Only madness lies that way.

2.1. Please keep low-risk uses of superpowers to a minimum.  For example, the scene where a character first tries using his powers is usually pretty low-risk (e.g. Peter Parker testing what his webs can do).  As a brief scene, that’s not a huge liability, but if you have 3+ characters with superpowers, I wouldn’t recommend spending pages putting each character in such a situation.  I feel that one character just testing out his powers tends to come off surprisingly like any other character just testing her powers out, even if the powers are different.  One possibility is that the characters learn and/or test their powers in a risky situation.  For example, maybe the characters are tested for something like admission into a superhero team shortly after developing superpowers.  If the character really wants to make the team, the learning process will probably be higher-stakes and more interesting than just webbing around town.

3. Show us an experience, preferably one we haven’t seen before.  It might help to try forcing the character to occasionally use his powers in a way they are clearly not meant to be used.  For example, a character that has wings might have some success using them underwater (i.e. like flippers).  What would it be like to try flying underwater or, umm, maybe activate flame-based powers underwater?  What would it be like using forcefields as a makeshift telekinetic power?  (Probably more messy than actual telekinesis, I’d imagine).  If a fire-controller needs to cross a 10 foot chasm, would it be possible to use his powers to create enough recoil to send himself sprawling over the chasm?  How does a guy with a massive laser rifle deal with a situation that requires a more gentle touch than killing everybody, like dispersing rioters?

4. If there are any limitations to the characters’ powers, maybe they come into play.  How does the character get around these limitations?  For example, in the third X-Men movie, the soldiers prepared for Magneto’s metal-controlling powers by getting rid of anything metal.  Magneto got around that by bringing the Golden State Bridge with him.  Alternately, perhaps the character’s powers are unusually unreliable or unavailable during the scene.  For example, maybe your powersuited character runs out of fuel for his jets, so he either has to scrap together some alternative (fast food grease: I’m lovin’ it as an extremely primitive fuel?) or figure out how to save the day without flying.

5.  If you have several superpowered characters, you might try different combinations of characters on various missions.  For example, if you have a team with a fragile psychic, a marksman, a tank like the Hulk, and a ninja, the marksman will probably be in the same sort of relatively-safe support role, letting the tank take the hits.  Mixing up the rosters on various missions helps give characters chances to test skills they probably wouldn’t use much otherwise.*  If the next mission pairs up the marksman with just the psychic, the marksman’s role would look pretty different.  For example, he might be a lot closer to the action so that he takes fire and/or distracts the enemy, which would be totally unnecessary if his partner were the unjolly green giant.  Alternately, what does a ninja do if his partner is the Hulk?  Should he just assume that stealth is out from minute one or try to do something stealthy on his own before giving the tank the signal to come in?  (Good luck getting the Hulk to wait that long, though).

5.1. Here are some reasons the team might mix up the roster rather than use everybody on every mission. 

• There’s more than one emergency and the team had to split up to deal with all of them.
• Some of the members may be too far away at a particular moment to respond to an emergency.
• Heroes might be physically incapacitated or otherwise unable to help.
• The situation might call for a smaller team.  For example, maybe it’s a stealth mission or transport space is limited.
• Some members have other responsibilities and are only available during particularly grave situations.
• Some members might be deemed liabilities on a particular mission.  For example, you’d probably want to leave the Human Torch behind for a mission in a chemical plant or the Hulk for a mission anywhere.  Alternately, in a more bureaucratic organization (like a police organization), members might be on administrative leave if they’ve done something to annoy the boss.  (Like threatening to eat a district attorney).
• The organization might want to leave somebody in reserve in case another disaster strikes, particularly if supervillains have done diversionary attacks before.
• The organization is large and coordinating all of the members is complicated.  Bringing along everybody could result in more collateral damage than necessary.
• The organization might split up the members into smaller units to be more efficient.  For example, in real life cities, the police will typically patrol in pairs, but might deploy hundreds or thousands of officers in a large-scale conflagration like a riot, a hippie convention or a 49ers game.
• Keeping the heroes with the same few teammates as much as possible helps them build camaraderie and practice effective teamwork.  For example, in the military, I think soldiers are more likely to feel really close to their teammates on their fireteam (population: 4) than other members of their company (population: ~150).
• Splitting into smaller groups gives the organization more opportunities for developing leaders.  For example, when the police need to replace a captain, competent lieutenants frequently get the nod.  In contrast, if your organization only works as one unit, then it would probably be gratuitously difficult to replace the leader if he leaves or gets temporarily incapacitated, because nobody will have much leadership experience besides the first guy.

• Fatigue. The superhero’s powers exhaust him.
• Equal and opposite reaction. Perhaps your supergenius’s brain will overheat unless he lets his mind cool down after a mental stunt.
• Energy. Your hero has a drainable and finite source of power.
• Risk to self (or others). Your hero’s powers, once activated, are hard to control and dangerous.
• Personality shift. Activating your hero’s powers transforms his personality or mindset, like the Hulk or Catastrophe.
• Loss of sanity. Your hero’s transformation makes him considerably less stable, like The Hulk or Niki.

2. Your story’s superpowers have a limited duration or accessibility.

• His superpowers only last a certain duration and have to be recharged.
• His superpowers can only be accessed after a certain condition is met or at a certain time of day. For example, Captain Marvel has to say Shazaam first.
• His superpowers are only accessible after he transforms.  May be voluntary (Captain Marvel), involuntary (a werewolf) or both (the Hulk).
• Superpowers are accessible only through a particular item, usually a magical or technological item (Sailor Moon, power armor).
• Achieving a particular power or effect requires the cooperation of unsavory characters.  For example, maybe the superhero needs to convince a brilliant supervillain to help him build a particular feature into his powersuit.  Alternately, in Bitter Seeds, every spell is fueled by negotiations with nefarious spirits.

• Because the hero’s alien or otherwise unhuman (Superman, TMNT)
• Because he’s a modified human (Spiderman, cyborgs)
• Because he has some artifact (power armor or something magical)

4. Your superpowers have unusual limits.

• Physical. Maybe his electricity shorts out in water or he gets really weak when exposed to Kryptonite.
• Time. Hourman’s powers only last (you guessed it) an hour.

1.  The superpowers are not always available.  For example, they might get tired/fatigued if they use the powers too much, they can’t wear the power-suit all the time, they may run out of fuel or magical energy, there may be a time limit to how long the powers last (like Hour Man), the powers may only work at certain times or under certain conditions, etc.

2.  The character doesn’t have much control/precision.  This could limit a hero in a situation where there are civilians or valuable property.  This is a problem because most things that interest supervillains are in densely populated urban areas.

3. The character isn’t as skilled or tactically savvy as he could be.  He might get beaten by a better-trained opponent or one that cleverly uses terrain, civilians, distraction(s), the elements, preparation, the hero’s limitations, etc.

4. At certain points, the character may lack the materials/expertise/time to reload or repair.  Especially if a character like Iron Man is on the run and can’t restock, what does he do when his suit runs out of chaingun ammunition? Alternately, perhaps a wizard has some sort of periodic recharging ritual that involves a rare reagent or location that might not always be accessible.  How can Jim get to Vampire Cove if his enemies know that he needs to go there to recharge?  (By taking refuge in insanity, of course.  Go at night and hope you don’t run out of garlic).

5. There are social limitations to the character’s powers.  For example, if a character’s power-armor is tied to his job, the threat of getting court-martialed might limit what he can do and/or force him to come up with jury-rigged solutions if he gets cut off from his regular resources.  Alternately, a rogue Green Lantern might have his ring confiscated if he agrees to participate in a good movie and magicians or mad scientists might be punished severely if they conduct too many demonic biological experiments.

THERE ARE SOME THINGS MAN WAS NEVER MEANT TO KNOW

6. The powers may be limited in scope.  For example, Magneto’s telekinesis applies only to metal.  Alternately, Spider-sense isn’t the ability to predict all future events, just imminent danger.

7. Powers can be limited in magnitude.  If a character can run 500 miles per hour, guys with guns probably can’t provide an interesting challenge.  It might help to drop his maximum speed to 50-100 miles per hour and/or arm many enemies with weapons that might be dangerous (like tracking systems, lasers, proximity mines, etc).  If the character is invulnerable to small arms, maybe he faces some challenge from anti-tank rifles or rocket launchers (see Solo in Weapon, for example).

7.1. If the character has too many powers, some can be deleted.  If the character has too many powers to challenge easily, removing some powers may be the easiest fix.

8.  The character’s secondary abilities are limited in some way.  For example, maybe the character can run incredibly fast, but can only safely turn or maneuver at a much lower speed and perhaps it takes him a while to brake without causing so much friction that he sets himself on fire.

8.1. Conditions that frequently exist in combat make it harder for the character to use his powers.  For example:

• A character’s powers may require concentration, particularly if he’s a psychic.  It’s pretty hard to concentrate when cars are getting thrown around and people are screaming.
• A character’s powers (or some of his abilities) may require preparation time and/or a charging time.  Doomsday devices don’t construct themselves, you know.
• The character responds poorly to stress.
• The character is notably sensitive to environmental conditions (like sound) and/or needs to have something closeby before his powers can do anything.  The ability to control water might not be so useful in the desert.
• The character is frail and has to be careful to stay out of the line of fire.
• The character’s powers create a major risk for civilians.

2. Maintaining a secret identity would be practically impossible, unless you were a real loner or your significant other, friends and family were idiots.  For example, most crimes happen at exceedingly inconvenient times.  The most common hour for a New York City homicide is between 3-4 AM.  If you’re out in the middle of the night (let’s say) 50-100 times per year, it seems implausible to me that you could go more than a year or two without a few people noticing.  I doubt most people could keep that up for even a few months before their friends/families/coworkers noticed something was amiss.

• If your hero is maintaining a secret identity from his/her loved ones, what does he or she do to keep them from the truth?

2.1. A superhero is probably going to get injured once in a while, probably by gunfire.  If you got shot, how hard do you think it’d be for your friends/family/coworkers to notice?  If you got shot more than once, don’t you think your friends and family would have a lot of awkward questions?  For example, “Why the hell aren’t you going to the police?  You got shot. Were you buying drugs?”  If being a superhero is illegal, going to a hospital would be tough.  Most U.S. states (including New York) require hospitals to report gunshot wounds to the police and getting the police involved would also raise a lot of awkward questions about what the hero was doing when you got shot.

• How does your superhero deal with injuries? Does he have somebody he can turn to?  Or does he have to treat it himself (and risk infection) or go to a chop-shop doctor whose specialty is treating criminals?
• Is there any other reason a hero can’t go to a regular hospital?  For example, maybe routine bloodwork would raise too many questions or she’s not a human.

2.2. If any criminals found out your secret identity, it’d be extremely easy for the police to figure it out, too.  In real life, police officers would notice that Mary Jane gets kidnapped repeatedly, which is extraordinarily rare.  (I doubt anyone in U.S. history has been kidnapped more than once by different strangers).  By supervillains, no less.  What would supervillains care about a random Broadway actress?   Of all the hundreds of superheroes in town, doesn’t it seem strange that Spider-Man is so often the one to respond when Mary Jane gets kidnapped?  Any detective with a pulse could easily tell that there is some sort of personal connection between Spider-Man and Mary Jane.

• If your superhero is trying to keep his identity a secret, is he taking precautions to keep these connections hidden?  For example, maybe he has a fellow superhero save Mary Jane so that it’s less obvious he’s personally involved.  Or maybe he convinces Mary Jane’s parents not to file a missing persons report (to buy himself time to rescue her without getting the police involved).

3. There are probably better things you could be doing with your superpowers than getting shot at and possibly risking major jail time. At the very least, Static Shock could probably generate enough electricity to interest a utility company and Storm could probably make a huge difference for somebody’s farm.  Reed Richards takes this to the next level, though.  He’d rather be a superhero even though he could probably beat the CDC to a cure for cancer and could certainly beat NASA to Mars.  (Which isn’t saying much. At this point, it looks like three grad students, two slices of pizza and a bathtub powered by rubberbands could beat NASA to Mars).

• There are safer jobs that pay better than being a superhero, such as everything.
• If your superheroes are not violent or physically adventurous before getting superpowers, why would they gravitate to a very violent, dangerous position?   What causes (or forces) them to make that decision?
• If your superheroes are violent and/or physically adventurous before getting superpowers, why do they decide to become superheroes rather than police officers or soldiers?  (The pay’s better, the support’s better and you wouldn’t have to hide everything from your friends and family).  For example, perhaps your heroes want to avoid bureaucracy/red-tape and/or the police force in the city is utterly irredeemable.  Maybe the character is too young or can’t admit his superpowers to anybody.
• How long after developing superpowers does it take your characters to decide to become superheroes? In particular, if it’s less than a week, why?  (Are you trying to establish the character as unusually impulsive?)

4. Rolling urban battles will eventually get innocents killed.  When a superhero engages a criminal without much preparation, the criminal will probably get some shots off.  If a superhero isn’t careful about engaging armed criminals with civilians in the area, it’s only a matter of time before one of those shots hits a bystander.  Most superheroes are not usually depicted as particularly careful, which might raise problems with non-villains.  For example, a bank manager’s #1 job in a bank robbery is to get everybody out safely, even if that means giving up around $10,000.  Insurance will cover that and the police can catch the robbers later without civilians in the way.  If Spiderman rushes in and there’s a fight in the bank, people will be afraid to go to that bank even if nobody got hurt.

• Do your superheroes take precautions to keep civilians from getting killed? If not, have any civilians been notably injured or killed yet?  If not, why not?
• Do the superheroes have any conflicts with non-villains?

5. Why are supervillains dumb enough to stay where the superheroes are?  By my rough tally, approximately 110% of Marvel’s superheroes live and work primarily in or near New York.  If you have some smart villains, is there some reason they aren’t shouting, “Screw you, Seattle has banks too”?  On the other hand, supervillains tend to be more flashy than intelligent—note how often they get caught in broad-daylight bank robberies.  They might want to perform on the biggest stage under the brightest lights and a lot of New Yorkers have convinced themselves that New York is that place.  Supervillains may also be too macho to admit that trying high-profile crimes in a city with more superheroes than hospitals might be ill-advised.  Alternately, they may have convinced themselves that there are only a few superheroes in town, but there are so many villains that they’ll kill Batman and his sidekicks eventually. (Personally, I’d like my chances in Denver, but I’m addicted to living).

• If all superhero activity (or the overwhelming majority) in your world happens in a particular city, why?  For example, maybe supervillains are drawn to New York because it doesn’t have a death penalty.  (Federal crimes such as terrorism can still result in a death penalty even if they’re committed in New York, but it’s still a fairly plausible explanation).  Alternately, if a particular accident or event caused most of the supernatural activity in your story, it might make sense that most of the supernatural activity in the world is pretty close to the scene of that event.
• If superpowered brawls between hundreds of superpowered heroes and villains are a daily fact of life in the town, why haven’t people cleared out?

Please see Part 2 here!

Thanks to Myna and Wings for brainstorming on this article and to the anonymous Google user that typed in [problems superheroes would face in real-life] for suggesting it. 

Here are some other possibilities that come to mind.

1. Psychics might be very cynical or very optimistic about human nature depending on whose minds they have read.  In a situation where their ability to read minds does not work (such as using email or talking over a phone), they may or may not be wildly distrustful because they don’t have the ability to know whether they’re being lied to.

1.1. A psychic might have privacy issues.  Courtesies that might seem commonplace to most regular people, like reading a suspect his Miranda rights or not listening in on a private conversation, might not make any sense to a psychic.  If the character grew up with other people that also had psychic powers (like an alien civilization), this would probably have a major impact on how he interacts with other people.  For example, if you grew up among psychics, you’d probably be used to everybody in a conversation knowing everything important already.  In a conversation with normal humans A and B, you might unwisely reveal something to B that A wants to keep secret.

1.2. A psychic might have major identity issues, particularly if he/she doesn’t much control over the psychic powers.  For example, the psychic might have trouble distinguishing between his/her own thoughts and the thoughts of people nearby.  In The Taxman Must Die, one decidedly scrawny psychic can’t quite remember whether that memory about rampaging through a bank vault is his or somebody else’s. This is one of the limitations I use to keep the psychic’s powers from short-circuiting the mystery angle.  He remembers somebody committing a crime, but that memory has given him only a few vague clues to pursue.

2. A character with incredible speed and/or reflexes might perceive time as passing very slowly.  If he does so all the time, he might get impatient with people that move/talk/think much slower (i.e. everybody).  For a character with incredible reflexes, time might only seem to slow down at particular moments, like stressful events or danger.

3. Somebody with the ability to control and/or influence a particular element or phenomenon might be really sensitive to it. 

• Somebody with the ability to control heat/fire or ice might be more sensitive to temperature changes, like somebody getting chills when they feel scared.
• Somebody with magnetic abilities might feel metal objects moving and might get bothered by rush hour.  Maybe your Magneto can feel Wolverine approaching because Wolverine’s skeleton is mostly metal.
• Somebody with the ability to influence/control plants and/or animals might pick up environmental cues other people miss.  For example, maybe your plant-controller is more likely to notice snapped twigs, a slight indentation in a patch of grass and/or leafs knocked from the top of a bush and conclude that somebody came through here in a hurry.  The ability to empathize with plants and/or humans might affect the character’s mindset, as well.  For example, Poison Ivy hates on humans (those plant-killing fiends!) and Beast Boy is a vegetarian.  Incidentally, I think the best reason to be a vegetarian is not because you really like animals, but because you really hate plants.

4. Superpowers, incredible abilities and/or experience might make somebody more precise in a particular way. For example, if a character has a time-related ability or is as meticulous as Batman, he might avoid figurative phrases like “in a minute” unless he’s actually talking about sixty seconds.  This could lead to annoyance/confusion when they’re talking with people that aren’t so precise.  (“Why did you say you wanted a minute if you really wanted five minutes? That’s not even close!”)

5. Someone unusually intelligent might be unusually confident if he/she has had enough success shaping events to their will.  Alternately, more intelligent people might actually be less confident because they’re more aware of their limitations and failures.  Or both!  Ozymandias was confident enough in his mental abilities to destroy New York City because he was sure it was the only way to save the planet, but he wasn’t sure that he could grab a bullet out of the air.  (PS: If a superintelligent character is totally confident, he might have a crisis of faith if he fails to anticipate something or gets outmatched by events and/or an adversary).

6. Somebody with heightened senses might notice seemingly inconsequential details.  For example, Sherlock Holmes creates and tests theories of a crime by focusing on minor details. (For example, in Holmes, he figures out that a supposed suicide is actually a murder by proving that the victim was actually left-handed).

7. A character that has incredible abilities might have trouble dealing with low-level threats and situations.  For example, if you’re strong enough to hurl a tank, it might be really hard to just incapacitate an unpowered thug without breaking at least a few bones.  Alternately, the character might be so concerned about avoiding unnecessary damage that he makes some tactical decisions that allow criminals to escape and/or have other undesirable consequences.

7.1. Incredible superpowers would probably make it more challenging to maintain a secret identity.  If a super-speedster can run faster than 100,000,000 miles per hour, he might have trouble distinguishing between 30 and 60 miles per hour.  Wouldn’t you notice if Wally West started running twice as fast as Usain Bolt?

8. Somebody that’s grown up with a superpower might have trouble relating to people that don’t have it (and vice versa).  If a superhero (or villain) has a power that really affects how he/she experiences the world, it might raise interesting social, mental and/or medical challenges.  For example, try imagining if you were the only psychic on Earth.

• How do you describe your psychic experiences to a non-psychic?  (Which non-psychics would you feel comfortable enough with to try? Would most people find your powers unsettling and/or dangerous?)
• If you need a second opinion about a psychic or supernatural experience–”what do you make of X or Y?”–who would you ask and how?
• If you have some sort of medical issue relating to your abilities, who would you talk to?  It’s unlikely the Mayo Clinic has seen anything like this.  (Likewise, what if a superstrong character strains a muscle while stopping a train? “Take two aspirin and call me in the morning” probably won’t suffice).

9. A character new to superpowers might have trouble getting used to new sensory experiences, particularly at first.  For example, hearing everything within a block of you could be a hassle when you’re trying to sleep.   If your sense of smell has gotten a hundred times better, eating might feel decidedly unusual.

1. I would recommend going with versatile abilities/powers rather than more particular ones.  It’s a lot more creative, memorable and often visually interesting to see a character use his powers in a way that the user’s manual never intended. In contrast, if Superman tries to fly, it’s generally a perfectly smooth operation and his success is never in doubt because he has a power that is good for nothing else but flying.  In contrast, if Yomiko (from Read or Die) tries to fly by using her paper-control abilities to rig together a giant paper airplane, that takes real daring and cunning.  ”Do you know how to fly that thing?”  ”Uhh, what about the rain?”  ”Can your plane withstand gunfire?”  The uncertainty helps make the improvised solution more interesting.

1.1.  I’d like to see the characters in some situations where their powers are not obviously useful.  I think the biggest reason some writers give their characters huge amounts of superpowers (5 or more, let’s say) is that they’re scared that their characters might be caught in a situation that can’t be immediately solved with a superpower. First, it’s more interesting/creative if a character can’t just solve a problem by turning his powers on.  (See Superman vs. Yomiko above). Second, superpowers are only one part of the characters’ capabilities, right?*  It’s okay if they have some problems/situations that have to be resolved by other means.  (When was the last time you read about a wizard that solved all of his problems with magic?)  If the superpowers are the only capability that the superhero uses, I would recommend reconsidering whether you’re neglecting the person behind the mask.

*For example, your characters hopefully have skills, practical life experience (from a job or elsewhere), talents besides superpowers, education, personal strengths, resources/assets, etc. Characters may also be able to leverage their reputation, authority and/or standing among different groups (like the police, criminal groups, the public, etc) in certain situations. For example, if your hero’s been framed as a criminal and her bank account’s been frozen, maybe she can march up to Fast Eddie on the corner and demand the perpetrator’s name and a flamethrower on credit.  It would take one hell of a personality and/or reputation to convince a hardened criminal to cough up a flamethrower with threats.  And she might also need to convince him that she’s likely enough to defeat the perpetrator that the perpetrator won’t come back and kill Fast Eddie for snitching.

2.  An overly complex superpower may detract from the development of the rest of the story.  My rule of thumb is that if a character’s superpowers take more than 1-2 sentences to explain, there’s probably too much going on.  For the most part, time spent explaining superpowers is usually not spent on characterization, transitions/coherence, conflict development, motivations, major choices and other elements that publishers actually care about.  (For example, I’ve seen quite a few publishers specify that they’re looking for believable, consistent and interesting characters–like Dark Horse Comics–but I’ve never seen anybody mention superpowers in the submission guidelines.  They’re just a means to an end–an interesting story–not the end itself).  Alternately, if you want to really delve into the superpowers and you feel like they’re such an interesting component of the story that they warrant that space, you could at least incorporate it into characterization, major choices and the like.  For example, in Bitter Seeds, one protagonist’s powers are bestowed by malevolent spirits that demand gruesome sacrifices.  Understandably, some characters do not take well to this, so the cost of the powers creates an obstacle to team cohesion and friendships/partnerships.

3.  I’d recommend using capabilities appropriate to the story’s tone, style and target audience.  If you’re doing an upbeat kid’s story, you might want to leave the machine guns at home.  (We weep for you, children’s writers).  Personally, I’m using mostly agility-based powers for The Taxman Must Die, an action-comedy that I’d like to keep a pretty soft PG-13.

4.  Can the character be challenged?  For more details on this, I’d recommend checking out How to Save Insufficiently Challenged Heroes (especially #4).

2.  Maybe it could be used as a cushion for safe landings.  Perhaps the character can alter the hardness/springiness of his forcefields so that he can make it into something like a trampoline.  (The more it can stretch, the less the force of impact will be. Like a seat-belt, but one that can also be used to smash something to pieces).

3.  A spherical forcefield could be used to trap in a limited air supply.  That would help a character traveling underwater, through space or through a locker room.

3.1.  A spherical forcefield could also be used to restrict air intake.  For example, a hero might be able to knock someone unconscious by cutting off outside air.  Alternately, if an enemy is using poisonous gas or fire-based attacks (which will readily exhaust available oxygen), the forcefield could lead to the enemy knocking himself unconscious and/or poisoning his air-supply so much that even he can’t handle it.

4.  Forcefields could really wreck a super-fast character’s day.  They could be used to limit space (to take away mobility).  Also, if you’re moving at 500+ miles per hour and suddenly hit a wall that wasn’t there a moment ago, it would really hurt.  Even a regular-speed character that was jumping at an enemy would have a lot of momentum.  As in #1, you might also be able to use forcefields to pin a combatant so that he can’t move as effectively.

 

5.  They could be used to trap fleeing enemies.  For example, you could cut off escape paths.

5.1. They could also be used to ensure a successful escape.  Putting obstacles between escaping characters and their pursuers would probably help.

6.  “Roach bust”–forcefields can be tactically deployed to separate an enemy from his teammates.  This allows your team to gang up on him while he’s unable to escape.  (You wouldn’t like Huk when he’s angry? Not even I am geeky enough to use two Starcraft non sequiturs in an article on superpowers).

7.  Forcefields could create a surface in space or water.  This could be useful in a few situations.  For example, it’s hard to orient yourself while drifting in space because there’s nothing to push against.  However, you could push against your own forcefield.  Second, if you were doing something in space with recoil, the recoil would probably send you flying back into space, unless your back was to a wall.  In the water, having a hard surface to push against could be useful for a burst of speed.  If you can hold onto your forcefields, it might allow you to maintain your position underwater without swimming.  Swimming creates turbulence in the water that someone with extremely sharp senses might be able to perceive, so it might be useful as a stealth tactic.

8. If you can make an opaque forcefield, it could be used for concealment and/or subterfuge.  Or one hell of a bachelor party.

9. You could make a surface to float/walk/slide on in the air.  For example, if you needed to run from one building to the other, you could use a forcefield as a ramp or skywalk.  If you needed to free people trapped in a building, perhaps you could make a slide?

10.  You could contain fires, explosions, bullets, Vanilla Ice songs, killer plants, zombies, zombie-killing plants and other deleterious forces.  

1. Mind-reading doesn’t need to be an instant problem-solver. Psionics (specifically telepathy, from which most other non-physical mental capacities stem) probably shouldn’t be as simple as just turning on a power and using it.  It’s not like finding a particular product at a grocery store, is it?  It isn’t very likely at all that what the psychic is looking for will be neatly packaged, labeled and sorted.  Consciousness just shouldn’t work that neatly, at least not for your average (or even slightly above-average) psychic.  The mind is an extremely complex, living network of constantly shifting thoughts and emotions, memories and awareness. It’d probably be dangerously easy to get lost if you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.

2. If the telepath does recover the secret/information/weakness, it doesn’t have to be the ultimate trump card it’s commonly made out to be. For example, maybe the psychic uncovers only a piece of the larger puzzle. It’s pretty uncommon that a hired goon will have a full grasp of his master’s grand scheme. Also, a psychic police officer might learn who the killer is, but that doesn’t count for anything unless he can prove it in court with actual evidence. Having the information is one thing, but applying it is something else altogether.

3. With most superhero-types, the same trick isn’t likely to work as easily a second time.  Perhaps non-psychic characters can learn how to defend themselves against psychic attack.  For example, in “Only a Dream,” Batman mentally overcomes Dr. Destiny.  Also in Justice League, Lex Luthor acquires a power-nullifying device that enables him to overcome Grodd’s mind-control. Alternatively, the X-Men’s Emma Frost has been depicted shifting into diamond form specifically to block an attempted telepathic intrusion, despite being a psychic herself.

4. Psychic fights/action can be depicted by using effective symbolism and metaphor.  This is something required of any writer regardless of the use of psychic characters, so the good news here is that you don’t necessarily have to learn something too terribly specific to psionics. But concerning psychics specifically, what’s helpful is to depict the mental sphere symbolically, with metaphors and archetypes (like dreams do). For example, you could describe the initial contact as though your character were maneuvering down a long, twisting corridor with many other corridors branching off, each with their own doors, perhaps some of them locked, or perhaps walled up completely (a little generic, but you get the idea). Will the telepath also feel certain emotions emanating from them? Mind is perception, and everyone’s is different, so depict the mind being invaded appropriately to the nature/style/attitude of that character. If you can effectively narrate any other aspect of your story, you can just as effectively narrate psychic activity.

For more on mental metaphor & symbolism, please check out a dream dictionary. That’s a great reference for appropriately utilizing aspects of meaning for whatever symbolism might be lurking in your characters’ (sub)consciousness.

5. Mind-control/possession should not be a sure, quick fix.  Even dicing up an onion takes careful concentration (unless you’d like to dice your radial artery).  Shouldn’t holding and controlling an unwilling victim’s mind be more involved?  For example, perhaps the psychic needs to maintain total, constant concentration–any distraction will cause the control to dissolve.  Perhaps the victim can fight off the attacker.  Add in the element of personal injury (psychic backlash, coma, whatever) as a consequence of failure and suddenly you’ve got suspense and danger.

6. If you’re uncomfortable having psychics kill their enemies (by, say, rearranging their organs), there could be a psychic backlash.  If the psychic is in the host’s brain, killing the host could be much riskier than merely inducing injury or unconsciousness.  I think there are some things that even master telepaths just shouldn’t be able to accomplish without direct, personal and equal consequences. (Plus, it’s a better, much more credible explanation for why the hero won’t crush the villain’s windpipe than “but s/he’s a good guy,” even if the villain is literally seconds away from destroying the planet).

The author, Aj of Earth, is a reader, a writer and a seeker of truths. He also eats his spinach.

2.  Please use the architecture and scenery to set the tone. It’s hard to get grittier and more bleak than a cave built into an almost-unpopulated Gothic mansion.  In contrast, the Fortress of Solitude is much brighter and generally looks more hopeful and futuristic.

3.  I’d generally recommend a headquarters appropriate to the circumstances and needs of the owner. For example, if your team will be arrested on sight, it’d make more sense to do a low-key safehouse or something else discreet rather than a downtown skyscraper.

4.  It might be interesting to describe how the characters came by this particular facility, particularly if they’re not very wealthy. You can use it to establish traits of the characters.  For example, in The Taxman Must Die, one of the supervillains is undercover as a crime scene investigator for a police superagency.  He needs a base he can easily sneak off to without arousing much attention.  Buying a building would leave a paper-trail (paper-trail + taxman = location for airstrike).  This police agency maintains life-size models of several critical buildings on its training grounds.  (Like the Secret Service and FBI do in real life).  So, for example, agents will do a lot of counterterrorist training at models of the White House, the Capitol Building and the Sears Tower in case terrorists ever do attack these buildings.  The only model building that is not used for training anymore is the World Trade Center, since the real building has since been destroyed.  So the villain sets up at the model World Trade Center because it’s unused, large and not linked to him by any documentation.  I think this helps establish that the villain is dangerously clever and disturbingly utilitarian.

5.  If you’re doing a comic book, it might help to do something more visually interesting than a generic skyscraper. I feel like it’s been done a lot.  (Mansions, too).   There are so many other possibilities, like a space station with a death ray, a Starbucks in the Space Needle, a berserk Eiffel Towel with a death ray, a Broadway theater, Area 52 (“the last last line of defense”), a really unusual science lab, an alien planet, a prison cell and of course a Motel 6 (the preferred base for budding supervillains).

6.  If you have a training area in the base (like the Danger Room in X-Men), please use it for something more interesting than a training montage. Alternately, if you must have a training montage, at least keep the writing lively.  For example, in X-Men: First Class, the writers worked in some really funny bits about how Xavier and McCoy had trouble trusting the accuracy of Havok’s death rays (see :33-:43 here).  If the training montage is just a really bad superhero becoming a pretty good superhero, it’s probably not very interesting.  Show us more.  For example, you could do other sorts of character development, relationship development, comedy, developing the team, foreshadowing a problem for a character(s), raising the stakes, etc.

2.  Will you be able to easily challenge this character in a variety of scenes?  (If the character is invulnerable, the answer is probably no, unless you’ve set up challenges besides trying to kill the character.  Source Code was an effective example of that).

3.  Will readers understand what this character can do, or is it just like the author’s making it up as he goes along?  (If the character’s powers have “reality” in the name, it’s probably the latter).

4.  Are the character’s powers versatile?  (If your main character is a superstrong tank or a flying brick, it may help to give him a more exotic side-power to help keep his fights from getting repetitive).

5.  If you’re writing a comic, will this character’s powers give you interesting visuals? (If you’re writing a novel, this isn’t nearly as important).

1. Use them less often. The more scenes there are with superpowers, the more diluted their effect will probably be.  For example, you could use fewer filler fight scenes or resolve more action scenes without superpowers.  Perhaps the powers have limitations, such as their duration.  Or maybe outside circumstances force the hero to resolve his problems in other ways (maybe he can’t use his superpowers without risking his secret identity, or he needs to avoid friendly casualties, etc).

2. Increase the costs of the powers. If the decision to use the powers is notable, the powers will probably be more exceptional and interesting. Here are some examples of costs that might fit your story.

• Alerting bigger fish.  For example, Frodo can’t use his magical ring without alerting the Ringwraiths and the characters in Walking Dead can’t use guns without calling mobs of zombies.
• Ingredients/resources.  For example, Mr. Freeze needs diamonds to fuel his death rays.  He’s a villain, though, so he can rob jewelry stores.  If your hero had a similarly expensive ingredient to worry about, it’d probably be trickier for him.  (Alternately, if the character is extremely wealthy, perhaps the resource is so rare or illegal that it can’t be easily purchased).
• Time/endurance/need to recharge–the powers only last so long, so using them at every opportunity means that the character might peter out in the middle of a battle.   Once in a while, the hero might be forced to try fighting without powers.
• Personal health/sanity.  Too many stimpacks can have serious side-effects.
• Personality shift/loss of self-control.  There are times when turning into the Hulk would only make things worse, such as always.
• Moral corrosion/loss of soul.  For example, see Spiderman’s Venom symbiote, Frodo’s ring, and many uses of magic.  This is distinct from a personality shift in that it’s usually more gradual and bleeds more into the character’s unpowered life.
• Dangerous debts.  Perhaps the character’s powers force him to turn to a dangerous person or force for assistance. Maybe Tony Stark needs to work out a deal with a mad scientist to get a particular capability built into his suit.  Other examples might include shady arms dealers, the human-hating magical spirits in Bitter Seeds, demonic forces, Canadians, aliens, demonic arms-dealing human-hating Canadians, etc.
• Relationships/approval.  For example, in Bitter Seeds, each use of magic jeopardizes the main character’s partnership with a friend that strongly disapproves of the use of magic.  There may be some aspects to a character’s powers that rub others the wrong way.
• Involuntary transformation.  The character has little (if any) control over when he transforms into his super-self.  The transformation might be triggered by something like his emotions (the Hulk), a time of the day (werewolves),  near-death experiences (Kurama), nearby magic, nearby Nazis (Audie Murphy), caffeine and deadlines (B. Mac), etc.
• Secret identity.  If a crime happens around Clark Kent or Tony Stark, it’d be harder for them to use their powers without compromising their secret identities.  Tony Stark may have to save the day without using the Ironman suit.

3.  Describe the experience. Don’t just talk about the end-result (“John teleported to Kansas”).  Talk about what it’s like. When John teleports, Kansas hits him at millions of miles per hour and he’s plastered in place like an astronaut strapped in during takeoff.  The heat makes it feel like his eyes are going to melt and he can’t walk straight for ten minutes after he gets there.  Details like these are a lot more lively than “He teleported to Kansas.”

3.1: Use as many senses as necessary.

• What would the point of view (POV) character observe with sight/sound/touch/taste/smell?  For example, if the Human Torch goes nuts on someone, maybe he can’t shake the taste of smoke for the rest of the day.
• Do the powers affect the POV’s state of mind?  For example, if the POV gets thrashed by the Hulk, he might get shell-shocked and disoriented.  Alternately, most psychic powers could easily mess someone up (the victim and/or the user).
• Is the POV’s perception of time affected?  (For example, if he’s using incredible reflexes, or slowing down time, or moving incredibly fast, etc).
• How intense is the situation?  A genius figuring out which bomb wire to cut should sound different than one deciding which Uno card to play.

4.  Try a variety of uses. For example, instead of more or less interchangeable fight scenes, you can use different settings and circumstances.  Instead of doing one battle royale after another, perhaps you mix in a scene where the characters are escaping or chasing another group.  Or perhaps they’re facing a different set of antagonists that has to be fought differently.  (For example, if Spiderman had to break Aunt May out of prison, he’d probably have to do it without getting any cops hurt because that’s how he rolls).

5.  It may help to talk about the process. Unless you’re doing hard science fiction/fantasy, you don’t need to write pages describing how the ionic thrusters or magical channeling work, but I thought the scenes featuring negotiations between the protagonist warlocks and villainous spirits were the most interesting part of Bitter Seeds.  Here are some examples that may be applicable to your story.

• How the character’s gadgets or powersuit work
• Practicing/training
• Describing how a supersmart character notices and processes minor details

What do you think?  Am I missing anything?