Problem 1: The character doesn’t have a distinct personality.

A) Make sure the character has distinct traits.  Can you name 3-4 adjectives that fit your character really well but not most other protagonists in your genre?  If not, please see this list of character traits for some possibilities and this article about how to use traits to develop characters.

B) Give him at least one flaw, a trait that makes it harder for him to achieve his goals and preferably leads to some conflict with sympathetic characters.   Some authors back into rarely-interesting “flaws” like being overly modest or “caring too much.”  If you can use those flaw(s) to create conflict or obstacles, that’s fine.  For example, maybe he wants to succeed in a job where modesty is an obstacle (e.g. marketing, sales or politics).  If you can’t use the flaw to create conflict, I’d recommend trying a different flaw instead or possibly rewriting the plot to accommodate the character.  For example, if you were really dead-set on a character whose signature flaw was his total inability to play the didgeridoo, maybe he’s growing up in a culture where mastering the didgeridoo is a critical rite of passage and/or the main way to pick up ladies.  For more on flaws and challenging characters, please see this article.

C) If all else fails, play up traits to the extreme.  Anything is better than having your character do and say “whatever the author feels like today,” and unfortunately I see many WTAFLT characters.  It’s generally easier to rewrite a character whose traits are too strong than one whose traits are too bland/unclear.

D) Make sure your plot gives your protagonists chances to make unusual choices. If 99% of protagonists from your genre would act the same way if they were in your plot, you’re not giving your protagonist a chance to distinguish himself.  If there’s a goal, a principle or a possession your character values much more than most other protagonists would, your character might make an unusual decision to protect/advance it.  For example, the fugitive protagonist of Point of Impact breaks into an FBI-guarded morgue to reclaim and properly bury his dead dog. It’s a memorable scene because the character is putting himself on the line for a goal that wouldn’t matter to most action protagonists–almost every protagonist would just skip to getting revenge or clearing his name.

E) Flesh out his perspective–what are some things he would notice or comment on that most other people wouldn’t?  What are some things he would draw connections between that most people wouldn’t?  For example, in a superhero-style world where people like Lois Lane or Mary Jane get kidnapped repeatedly, a veteran superhero (or investigator) might guess that anyone that’s been kidnapped by a supervillain for no readily obvious reason is probably very close to a superhero.

F) Force your main character to do or say at least one thing per page that he would do but you wouldn’t.  Don’t let your character get hemmed in by what you would do–most authors aren’t interesting or honest/circumspect enough to make an autobiography work.  Also, if at all possible, please force your main character to do/say at least one thing per page that your other characters wouldn’t.  That will really help the main character feel distinct.  If that’s not possible, I would recommend reevaluating whether the character has distinct traits and whether the plot is giving him opportunities to show those traits.

Problem 2: The character doesn’t have a pressing goal. 

A. If the character doesn’t already have a pressing goal, give him one.  If the character did have a goal but it petered out or he accomplished it too quickly, either create a new obstacle that endangers his accomplishment or transition into a new goal.

B. The goal doesn’t need to be life or death, but the character needs to feel the stakes are high.  If the character can just walk away, the plot is liable to fall apart.  Here are some tips on ways to motivate a character.

C. If you’re near the start of the book and aren’t willing/able to introduce the main goal yet, at least use an intermediate goal to propel the story.  For example, Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World uses Scott’s relationship with Knives Chau to establish that Scott has major problems (he’s dealing with a hard break-up and is dating a high school girl) before we’re introduced to the main love interest and the Seven Evil Exes that are trying to keep Scott from the main love interest. In Iron-Man, we’re introduced to an intermediate villain (the terrorist that kidnapped Tony Stark) well before Tony realizes the identity of the main villain.  The Taxman Must Die starts with an intermediate villain trying to assassinate an IRS protagonist, but the actual villain is someone else altogether.

Problem 3: Nothing’s at stake and/or there isn’t any chance of failure. 

A. Show us that failure is possible by letting the character make a big mistake.  For example, Peter Parker’s most interesting decision–and possibly the most interesting thing about him altogether–is that he didn’t stop the robber, which got Uncle Ben killed.  A taste of failure raises the stakes on whether the character will actually succeed.

B. When a character fails, make sure there are real consequences.  If there are no consequences to failure, then it doesn’t really matter whether the character succeeds or not.  For example, some possible consequences of intermediate failures might include:

• Suffering a major setback on the way to accomplishing his goal, preferably one that will make it harder for him to accomplish the goal next time.
• A significant loss of status (like public humiliation or a demotion).
• Suffering a major setback in an important relationship (like a breakup or a sidekick deciding to part ways).
• The villain accomplishes some (usually intermediate) goal to raise the stakes.
• Something unpleasant happens  to a loved one or bystanders.  This may be physical (like a hostage getting shot if a superhero screws up), but it might not be.  For example, if Al does something that causes Brenda to break up with him, and Brenda starts dating Carl to make Al feel jealous, Carl is collateral damage.
• The hero loses faith and/or faces a new mental obstacle and/or exacerbates an old mental obstacle.
• Allies become less committed to the hero, prospective allies are lost and/or new enemies emerge.
• Serious injury.
• The villain and/or the hero’s loved one(s) learn information that ends up damaging the hero.
• An important resource is lost, damaged or destroyed.  For example, in one Seinfeld episode, George used a photograph of a beautiful woman (supposedly his dearly departed wife) to gain admission into a super-exclusive club for supermodels… until he accidentally set the photograph on fire.
• Getting fired.
• Punishment.

C. Increase the challenge level so that the character will fail occasionally.  For more ideas there, please see this article.

D. What are 1-2 things this character wants to accomplish that readers wouldn’t want him to? You can have him approach those precipices to raise doubt about what, exactly, he/she will accomplish.  For example, a romance protagonist might start falling for a false love interest to raise doubt about whether he/she will find a way to be with a more sympathetic character.

Problem 4: The character is too passive.

A. Cut the whining–have the character act to solve his problems.  Complaining is very rarely an interesting course of action.  I’d much rather read about, say, a drafted superhero trying to get himself fired or blackmail his boss into letting him go than someone who just complains about how much he hates being drafted.  In particular, I’d recommend being creative with your young characters–e.g. if a kid wants something but his parents won’t buy it for him, have him try to enact some sort of plan to get it anyway rather than just complaining about how mean his parents are.  Whatever he tries (persuasion/reasoning, stealth/theft, coercion/extortion/blackmail, hard work, holding a series of bake-sales until he has $130 for a deactivated bazooka and a DVD about how to reactivate a deactivated bazooka, etc), it will surely be more interesting than complaining.

B. Raise the costs of inaction.  For example, pretty much all of the consequences for failure above could convince a character to act.  Alternately, perhaps the plot incorporates a ticking clock and there’s no time to sit around.  My favorite example of a ticking clock so far is D.O.A., a story about a poisoned detective who has two days to solve his own murder.

1. Something thematically and/or symbolically appropriate.  For example, Captain America is probably more interesting than “Shield Throwing Man,” because the America and military angles matter more to his story than the details of his superpowers.   Alternately, Oracle can’t actually predict the future, but her name sort of makes sense because her main role is providing information and assistance.

2. An emotional impression.  Some characters have names that evoke the right emotions, but aren’t related to the characters’ powers. Some heroic examples include Wonder Woman and the Martian Manhunter, as opposed to villainous examples like Venom and Carnage.

3. Something in the character’s origin story.  For example, Green Lantern is named after the source of his powers (and his organization) and Batman is named after a bat even though his powers aren’t actually bat-related.  (Unless bats are master ninja scientist detectives.  That’d go a long way to explaining how the bats trapped in my attic have survived this long, actually).

4. The character’s goal.  This is more common in team names (e.g. the Avengers or any name with Guardians in it), but some names like The Punisher or The Question make it pretty clear what the characters want to accomplish.

5. The character’s personality and/or distinguishing traits, particularly mental ones.  For example, Rorschach is mentally unstable, unpredictable and a psychiatric case.  The Taxman Must Die has a mutant alligator named Agent Orange that is helpful and (probably) safe for humans.

6. The character’s actual name (e.g. Luke Cage rather than Power Man).  If the superhero doesn’t have a secret identity, I’d recommend considering this approach, especially if you have a lot of superheroes.  It makes it easier for readers to remember everybody’s name and who’s who.  (If you’re not sure whether your readers can follow which character has which secret identity, try quizzing your beta readers after a few chapters).  Alternately, it might help to introduce the code-names or regular names gradually.  For example, X-Men: First Class held off on the code-names until about halfway through the movie.

7. The character’s superpowers (e.g. the Human Torch and Paste Pot Pete*). Generally, I would recommend this only as a last resort because it’s probably the most cliche of these and because it suggests that the character’s superpowers are the most notable thing about him.   If they really are the most important thing about him, I’d recommend going back to the drawing board and thinking about things like personality, goals/motivations, theme, etc.

*Paste Pot Pete has since been renamed, and not to free it up for somebody else.

1. What is the character’s personality like? What are his key traits?

2. What are the character’s goals/motivations like?  How do those tie into the character’s personality and background?  (I guess it’s possible that there’s a not-particularly-bright athlete out there whose burning life goal is to win a Nobel Prize in Chemistry, but trying to make the varsity squad would probably be more intuitive).

3. What sort of unusual decisions does the character make that other superheroes (or superheroes-to-be) wouldn’t?  In particular, why does the character choose to become a superhero?  Is there anything in the character’s personality or background that influences this decision?  (I’d look at that especially hard if the character wasn’t notably brave or violent before getting superpowers).

4.  How is the character different from other superheroes-to-be?  

5.  How is the character different from other characters in the story, particularly other superheroes (if applicable).  

6.  Are there any ways this character’s background, personality and/or skills make him a good (and/or bad) fit for the plot?  Either could create drama.

• Sherlock Holmes is a good fit against a villain like Professor Moriarty because Moriarty is so dangerous that only someone as competent as Holmes could stop him.  That raises the stakes and makes it easier to challenge Holmes.  (Challenging protagonists is key to generating drama–if the protagonist easily outmatches his obstacles, it probably won’t be as interesting as it could be).
• If a character is a bad fit, he’d have to work harder to overcome obstacles.  For example, Chuck, Bad Company and The Taxman Must Die are about relatively normal people thrust into super-dangerous spy jobs.  The characters’ lack of preparation and personalities help create tension/conflict with teammates and helps writers wring drama out of obstacles that might have been mundane/forgettable for a spy with years of experience.
• It’s possible to do both.  For example, Dexter is a serial killer that works as a police crime scene analyst.  On one hand, he’s less likely to get caught because he knows what they’re looking for and can sabotage the investigation.  On the other hand, they’re unusually close to him and have started to ask questions about why he misses so much work.

2. The character is useless.  Have you made a main character more or less helpless for most of the story? Does she watch as the story happens around her?  Does she get repeatedly saved by other characters when the going gets rough? Please think back to #1.  You’d probably be bored reading about a more or less helpless guy, right?  So why will your readers be any less bored by a helpless female?

3. The character is mute.  This broadcasts that the author has serious trouble writing dialogue for female characters, which is especially problematic if you have a major character that is a female.  Additionally, I can’t think of many situations where a mute character would be more interesting than one that could talk.  Finally, depending on the context, it could be creepy.  (For example, do you have any females that do talk?  Do they sound remotely believable?)

4. The character’s only defining trait is being hyper-smart or (more rarely) a total ditz.  That’s fine for one character among several, but if she’s your only significant female character, it’ll raise questions about your ability to handle female characters at a more relatable level of intelligence.  If you’re having trouble with more relatable female characters, I’d recommend checking out some Meg Cabot books, Mean Girls and/or Pride or Prejudice.

4.1. The character is totally pure.  A character that always does the right thing and has no motivations besides being friendly/agreeable/nice is probably pretty boring.  100% pure characters strain the suspension of disbelief, are less relatable and usually less dramatic.  For whatever reason, those sorts of characters are mostly women.  In the comments below, Jonie Legaspi suggests this rule of thumb: if a woman is older than 15 but never swears, she’s probably too pure.

5. Please assume that your readers will be able to tell if you have not read many female main characters written by female authors.  If you don’t have the firsthand experience of actually being a female, being well-read is probably the closest you’ll get to seeing the subtle distinctions between most women and most men in terms of perspective, dialogue and actions.  Here are two trends that help me pick out male characters written by female authors.

• The male character is hyper-introspective and collected (even in a crisis), but the author doesn’t realize that’s unusual. I’ve read quite a few supposedly ordinary guys (particularly high school students) that actually sound like philosophy professors.
• The male character notices far too many irrelevant details, such as eye color.  Generally, I think guys would only notice eye color if they’re romantically interested or if there’s some other reason the detail matters.  (For example, a cop might examine a driver’s eyes to see if he’s drunk).

I’m practically certain that female readers and editors have identified similar giveaways.  (If you know of any, please let me know in the comments!)

6.  The character is a love interest that doesn’t have a role outside of romance.  She’ll probably be a more interesting love interest if she has something else going on.  For example, Lois Lane is (occasionally) a competent reporter whose investigations sometimes tie into Superman’s work. Pepper Potts figured out who kidnapped Tony Stark by breaking into Stane’s office.  Ramona Flowers from Scott Pilgrim had a penchant for awesomeness and a mallet.  Also, she was a ninja courier for Amazon.

7. The character has no substantial goals besides going along with other characters and/or getting in bed with somebody.  If you’re going to bother writing in a character, I’d recommend giving him/her some sort of independent effect on the plot.  If not, why bother having the character?  Fortunately, you don’t need to give a character much space to give her/him a role to play.  For example, Neville Longbottom had maybe 30 lines in the first Harry Potter book and he still managed to raise the stakes for the protagonists by growing a spine at absolutely the worst moment.  (Dumbledore’s recognition of his badassery was probably the highlight of the first book for me).

Dishonorable Mention: The character’s main purpose is to get raped and/or tortured.  DO NOT WANT.

If you’re writing a similar character, to keep your story interesting and hard to predict, you should treat your character with care and a particularly open mindset.

What Is Afflicting Your Character?

Don’t just make your character a shadow of another character that uses the same device. That doesn’t mean you can’t use afflictions that have already been used, like drugs or alcohol, it just means you need to be sure that the affliction you are using is the best fit for your story.

First, did your character acquire the affliction voluntarily?  Drugs, alcohol and gambling debts are voluntary. But Alzheimer’s—which I consider to be an affliction that can lead to self-destructive characters—is not. For example, Joshua Hale Fialkov used a brain tumor in the aptly-named graphic novel Tumor.

The next part of creating interesting self-destructive characters is to have an open mind while indulging in the creative process. All stories and characters are prone to change, and in analyzing your character’s affliction you should question whether or not the affliction you have chosen is the best one for your character and/or story. Please use the most suitable device rather than just the first one that comes to mind.

Using an Affliction to Drive a Story

To avoid creating a flat character and story, I wouldn’t recommend using a conflict between the protagonist and his/her vice as the main conflict—especially not as the sole conflict. Having only one conflict in a story can get boring very quickly. Additionally, having multiple conflicts is more realistic. Conflicts and problems in one aspect of a person’s real life usually spill over into other aspects.  (If you’ve figured out a way to keep alcoholism from bothering a significant other and boss, please let AA know).  Having multiple conflicts can also create relatability.  For example, if the only conflict were a character’s struggle with an addiction to heroin, non-addicts might have trouble relating to that.  However, if the character’s drug addiction affects his/her romantic relationship, most readers could probably relate to that through a different experience that has placed stress on a relationship.

Stories should always have more conflict than just the character’s self-destructive trait/affliction. That conflict doesn’t have to be entirely separate from the affliction—in fact, it shouldn’t be; the other conflict should come from, or at least be related to, your character’s affliction. Tying the conflicts together helps add layers to the story without compromising coherence. Trying to tell too many unrelated stories in one stroke could result in an incoherent wreck.  If you find yourself in that situation, I’d recommend isolating the most interesting story and just focusing on that one.

Another way to use afflictions to develop a story is to consider whether your character indulges in other destructive activities.  (For example, an alcoholic might also do drugs or make poor decisions while under the influence).  If you’d like to go with something less common, maybe he or she is keeping his or her affliction from his or her family. If it’s a medical affliction, maybe he or she can’t afford treatment. Or, if the affliction is voluntary, you could delve into why the character initially indulged. All of these things provide room for elaboration and bring the character’s story to another level.

For example, the above character that can’t afford treatment for a medical affliction might do some less than legal things to get the necessary funds. Alternately, perhaps the character’s financial need inspires a friend or a family member to raise the funds by any means necessary. Combined with the character’s destructive affliction, either one of these plot strands would be more interesting than just having the character deal with her affliction.

You could also use the affliction to create a deadline, but I would really recommend considering whether your story needs one first. Deadlines can be used to increase the suspense or tension in a story and give the goal more weight. However, they can also be a slippery slope and become the only source of tension. If you do include a deadline, please make sure it isn’t the only source of conflict and that it fits naturally into the plot.

A Final Tip

Please don’t treat your character’s affliction like Kryptonite (more or less the only thing Superman is vulnerable to). If your character is susceptible to one affliction, he’s probably at least somewhat susceptible to other afflictions. If not, I’d recommend giving a reason for that that would convince skeptical readers. That will help flesh out the character and make him a more round, believable person.

1. The character has a sympathetic goal that calls for seriousness. For example, the protagonist in Silence of the Lambs is an FBI agent pursuing an unusually vicious serial killer and nobody else knows what’s going on besides a serial cannibal. Under these circumstances, it would probably be hard to like the FBI agent if she weren’t serious.

1.1. The character is hard, but has a good reason to be. If a surgeon snaps at a nurse for getting something 95% right, I think readers could probably be persuaded to sympathize with the surgeon because a 95% competent nurse might get somebody killed. It’d be harder to sympathize with a teacher snapping at a student that got a problem 95% right–unless he’s teaching Bomb Defusal 101. I think bigger stakes and stressful situations make it easier to like a hardass.

2. Serious characters (even hardasses) can still be witty, charming and/or funny. Some examples that come to mind include Michael Corleone from The Godfather, Dostoevsky’s unnamed protagonist in Notes from Underground, the protagonist of True Lies, Batman*, etc. For example, there’s one episode in Justice League where Batman is interrogating an Eastern European terrorist. The terrorist says, in subtitled Kasnian, “You can’t understand a word I’m saying and I wouldn’t tell you anything if I could.”  Batman responds, also in subtitled Kasnian, “I can… And you will.”  

*Superhero Nation: Hopefully the only website that has ever used Batman and Dostoevsky in the same sentence.

3. The character is serious but empathetic. For example, two detectives solving the case will probably ask for similar information, but the one that shows human concern will probably be more likable and productive. Which of these detectives would you rather speak to?

• EMPATHETIC: “I’m so sorry about what happened to your wife. Can you think of anybody who might have wanted to harm Veronica?  [If the witness can't think of any:] Were there any issues in your marriage?”
• COLD: “We found unidentified male DNA on the victim. Who might she have been sleeping around with?”

1.  If at all possible, give the new character something interesting to do that ties into a plot element that has been major.  For example, maybe the new character has some obvious connection to a major goal or obstacle for the main character.  IE: Maybe your wizard can only graduate from school if he passes telepathy, but there’s only one telepathic teacher’s assistant and he has a reputation for singing about himself in the third person while scrawling lewd graffiti in the cafeteria.  (Sigh, telepaths).  The more you connect the new characters to things we already care about, the easier it will be for us to care about them.

2.  Please use only interesting visuals that help develop the character.  Red flag: The story spends more time on the colors of the character’s eyes, hair, skin and sometimes clothes than on visual details that would help develop interesting and/or important information about the character and/or his role in the plot. 

• UNACCEPTABLE: “Damon the necromancer was wearing black robes that clashed with his smoky blue eyes.”
• BETTER:  “Good God, Damon, is that rabbit’s blood on you?  You’re soaked in it!”  Damon sipped his coffee.  “It was him or me, ma’am.”

3.  Please don’t introduce too many characters at once.  If you introduce characters more gradually, it’ll give us more time to become attached to characters before the next ones come in.  If there’s a flood of important characters, it may be overwhelming for readers.  Generally, I wouldn’t recommend introducing 3+ named characters on the same page.  (There are some exceptions–for example, I personally wouldn’t be bothered that there were 3 characters on the first page if they were developed pretty well.  One fairly common situation that I think is more of a problem is when the main character joins a team of 5+ superheroes and we meet all of them at the same time.  It’d probably be more effective to have the main character meet with a few of the superheroes first (perhaps while they’re evaluating the main character for membership) and then introduce the rest later.

4.  When you introduce an important character, please give him/her opportunities to show his/her personality.  Try to put the character in a situation where he/she would act differently from most other characters.  That will give the character more opportunities to stand out.  In contrast, if he/she is just doing what pretty much anyone else would do in this situation, the character will probably be forgettable. Unusual behavior tends to be a lot more memorable.

5.  Are the characters acting in-character?  For example, if Damon’s first encounter with readers is talking about why he’s soaked in a rabbit’s blood (in self-defense, he claims), they’ll prudently conclude that he’s absolutely nuts.  If it turns out that he’s actually an even-keeled pacifist that would never hurt a soul, readers will get really confused unless there’s a good reason for the discrepancy.  For example, perhaps Damon actually got the blood on him while ineptly trying to brew a potion, but he’s too embarrassed to admit his incompetence.  Or maybe Damon is afraid to admit he’s a softy because everybody expects necromancers to be stone-cold killers.  Or maybe another character mentions the discrepancy between how he usually acts and how he’s acting now.  (This will help cue the reader that something else is going on).

6.  Do we get a pretty good feel for the character (or at least some aspect of the character)?  If the reader cannot identify at least one personality trait of an important character after his/her first scene, please rewrite it so that the character comes across more clearly.  If you feel like the character’s personality is not coming across clearly enough, double-check what you’re spending the space on.  (Ineffective visuals? Actions and dialogue that are too generic to make the character stand out?)

1. Give the character flaws, ideally one he’s accountable for. Most unchallenged characters have a bevy of strengths but few well-developed flaws.  One approach is to play up the character’s strengths so much they sometimes become liabilities.  For example, in Point of Impact, Nick Memphis is unfailingly loyal, even though it ruins his career.  Virtually any strength taken to an extreme could create obstacles for the character.  For example…

• Being too smart could create social obstacles for the character (see Flowers for Algernon or House), impatience with less intelligent people, overconfidence, a willingness to jump to erroneous conclusions on too little information, etc.
• Being too nice could lead to gullibility/naivete, a reluctance to confront someone even when a confrontation is necessary, or a handicap against tougher (and maybe more brutal) foes.
• Being too honorable could result in situations where the character loses because he/she refuses to take the most effective course of action available.  At its most cliche, perhaps a superhero stops chasing a gang of villains so that he can defuse a bomb or free a hostage from a deathtrap.  But that only affects a scene.  More significantly, a villain can manipulate a hero’s sense of honor so that he/she does something that shapes the plot.  For example, Cassius draws Brutus into the assassination plot in Julius Caesar by exploiting Brutus’ honor.
• Being too brave could result in reckless mistakes.  The character’s overconfidence might get him hurt, and possibly bystanders as well.  For example, if a superhero tries to rush a hostage-taker without any sort of plan, hostages will probably get shot.
• Being too committed to one’s goals (even honorable goals) could result in obsession and/or a willingness to sacrifice friends, morals, bystanders, and anything else to achieve the goals.

2.  Have the character make some decisions the audience won’t approve of. If the character is so purely heroic that readers will probably approve of every decision he makes, he probably doesn’t have much moral complexity.  Usually, that’s not as believable or interesting as giving the characters some human edges.

3.  Have the character make difficult decisions. Difficult decisions distinguish the character.  If the character is just making banal decisions that 90%+ of the genre’s protagonists would make in the same situation, the plot probably isn’t giving the hero enough room to distinguish himself.  Let your hero show how different he/she is with some decisions that most other heroes wouldn’t make.  For example, the protagonist in Point of Impact, Bob Swagger, is on the run after he’s been framed for an assassination attempt on the President.  The people framing him planted incriminating evidence in his house, but they had to kill his dog to sneak inside. Almost every action protagonist in this situation would probably have started by trying to take down the conspiracy.  Swagger starts by breaking into the FBI-occupied morgue where the dog’s body is being held as evidence so that he can properly bury it.  It really helps develop his character: the dog is the closest thing he had to a friend and he feels honor-bound to return its loyalty.  It also gives the villains reason to panic and ratchets up the tension.  If this guy is suicidal enough that he’d risk a high-speed chase with the FBI over his dog, his dead dog at that, what’s he gonna do to them?

4. Challenge the character! Raise obstacles high enough that it will be interesting for the character to overcome them.  For example, if your character is the most powerful superbeing in your story, the potential for interesting straight-up action is probably pretty low because he’s more powerful than his opponents.  For example, The Watchmen couldn’t have done much with a straight-up duel between invulnerable hero Dr. Manhattan and semi-powered villain Ozymandias.  Instead, Ozymandias challenged the heroes with his stealth and subterfuge, buying time so that he could make his survival so valuable to the heroes that they wouldn’t dare to kill him.   Another approach would be to try challenging the character in a sphere where his superpowers aren’t very useful.  For example, in a superhero romance, a guy that’s used to solving his problems with violence would have to try a very different tack to wooing the girl of his dreams.

5. Have the character face some morally gray obstacles. I would really recommend against making everyone that opposes the hero a straight-up bad person. For example, maybe the character’s friends aren’t 100% supportive of everything he does, maybe his coworkers/bosses have reasonable disputes with the character, or maybe there’s an antagonist whose intentions are pretty pure, etc.  If there’s no approach for a character to disagree with the hero without coming off as a bad person, the hero is probably not morally complex enough to feel fully believable.  (Hey, even Gandhi and MLK took some flack over their pragmatism).

2. 99% of the time, it doesn’t really matter whether a character’s eyes are blue or green or whether her hair is brown or blonde. However, such details could be used to create an impression that does affect the plot and/or characterization. For example, if you wanted to suggest that a character looked mysterious and perhaps a bit dangerous, maybe you’d say that her eyes were a smoky blue, whereas the villain’s eyes might be a sickly or poisonous green. Or you could use some aspect of a character’s appearance to create a mood for a particular scene.  In such cases, I would recommend introducing these details only as soon as they contribute something and not because you think readers are wondering what color the character’s eyes are. (Trust me, they aren’t*).

*Of all the hundreds or thousands of characters you’ve ever read about, how many have eye colors you can remember? Any?

3. Rather than giving us a ton of details describing a character’s appearance as soon as the character is introduced, I’d recommend focusing on 1-2 memorable details. For one thing, that’s more distinct and easier for readers to remember. I don’t think that most readers will remember whether (say) a protagonist’s eyes are blue or brown because eye color is usually so incidental to the plot that it won’t seem like one of the 50 most important things to keep track of.  In contrast, I read a story a few months ago where the protagonist has a long scar on his cheek that made it look like he was always smiling. Even now, that detail is easy to remember because it developed the character in a significant way and reminded me of his brutal origin (he was orphaned by murder). If a detail doesn’t develop a character and/or the plot, why would readers remember it?

4. When you use any of the following visual details, I would recommend double-checking whether they actually develop something important about a character and/or the plot or otherwise contribute to the scene.  If not, they’re probably wasting space.

• Eye color
• Hair color–it usually says less about a character’s personality than his hair style because hair style is a choice, but hair color usually isn’t.
• Weight
• Height–if it’s important to the plot that a character is (say) physically imposing or lanky/awkward, height might be important.
• Clothing color?  In some cases, color may provide useful information to a reader–maybe the moodiest character tends to wear black or a football fan is so wildly intense that he refuses to wear red because it is the color of The Enemy.  However, in most cases I think most of the space spent on clothing color is wasted.

Writing exercise: Do a scene that effectively uses a visual detail to develop a character or advance the plot.

2. Revenge. This might be heroic if the crime is particularly heinous and/or the regular authorities are not willing or able to resolve the situation. It might be villainous if the character is overreacting or not being careful enough about hitting only the people responsible.  When working with revenge plots, I think it’s usually more interesting if the revenge develops into something more than just killing/stopping people A, B and C.  For example, in Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, the villain is getting back at the love interest that rejected him, which introduces relationship issues that present their own challenges to a protagonist trying to get over a long-dead relationship of his own.

3. To distinguish oneself. It depends on why the character wants to distinguish himself. A hero whose main goal is fame/status will probably gain a more substantial goal over the course of the story. (For example, Booster Gold). I think it’s seen as a superficial, temporary goal. In contrast, “be true to yourself” is more purely heroic… Unless being true to yourself involves psychically decapitating people and sucking out their brains.

4. To fit in/gain acceptance. A lot of heroes seek to gain the respect of their peers (see any story about “the new guy,” particularly students). However, gaining acceptance might be more sinister based on who the protagonist wants to impress and/or what will impress them. For example, 1984 ends with Winston Smith rather unhappily gaining acceptance by betraying his innocent girlfriend: ”…he had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother.”

5. Justice. This is like revenge, but usually less lethal and targeted more carefully against the perpetrators. Nonetheless, justice can sometimes be villainous. For example, the main goal of the robot antagonist in the I, Robot movie is to prevent humans from getting hurt, and putting them under house arrest seems to be the most logical way to do so.

6. Greed. Although realistic, I think this motivation tends to be used in a one-dimensional way. For a bit more depth, maybe the character is hording something (money, power, remote-control ninja stars) on behalf of somebody else. Also, I think it’s cliche for antiheroes to be sort of greedy because their authors are afraid to let them do anything actually unpleasant. I’d recommend going all the way.

7. Fear. This strikes me as a more interesting, dramatic motivation than greed. It’s usually more morally complex because the character might actually be right. Maybe Lex Luthor is correct that Superman will eventually turn on us. Fearful heroes usually perceive threats that are current rather than potential, but they may be paranoid wrecks anyway (see Question/Rorschach, possibly the psychiatrist from Halloween and Batman, etc).

8. Desperation. I feel this is a more interesting motivation for both antagonists and protagonists than greed because it raises the stakes and heightens the conflict. A greedy character is usually driven by stupidity: stupidity is the only reason he can’t be satisfied with what he has. In contrast, a desperate character can’t back away from the plot. He can’t escape the conflict.

9. Social cohesion. Most commonly, this means keeping a family together. However, any books with significant racial or class-based conflict probably deal with this to some extent. Some examples: X-Men, probably Harry Potter, American Beauty, The Incredibles, Dark Cloud Descending, etc.

10. A desire to better oneself. Depending on what the character is trying to change about himself, we may approve of the transformation. Here’s a thought for your hero: is he trying to change anything about himself besides becoming more powerful? What about the villain?

11. A desire to better humanity and/or society. I find altruistic villains especially fresh. They’re harder to dismiss as stereotypically evil, cardboard cutouts.

12. Curiosity/search for knowledge. A hero searching for understanding may be an amnesiac, some sort of wanderer, etc. A villain is probably uncovering secrets better left untouched, although his intentions may have been pure. More unexpectedly, an eventual villain might go on an innocuous search for understanding but come away with exactly the wrong lessons from life. If starting point A is a relatively normal person and ending point C is a villain that kicks dogs without any hesitation, the journey is what connects the two points. What sort of life experiences would warp someone that much? (See The Heart of Darkness, for example).

13. A desire to gain power to achieve a goal. This training/self-development angle comes up in many superhero stories, particularly those with rookie protagonists (such as Kickass). However, it was notably missing from Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.

Could I recommend against a stereotypically heroic goal for the heroes or a stereotypically villainous goal for the villains? While world domination is a fine feat, it is not exactly uncharted territory for supervillains. If the villain is vying for world domination, why? It might be more interesting if his bid for supremacy is somehow tied to altruism, fear or desperation. For example, maybe the villain is a time-traveler that knows about some grave threat, so he’s trying to take over because he’s the only one that knows how to avert disaster. If the alien invasion starts in 20 years, you don’t have very much time to unite the Earth. (Also, this would lend itself rather well to a sequel: the hero successfully stops the “villain” at the end of the book, but discovers that he has to defeat the impending alien invasion).

14. To escape one’s destiny. This comes up quite a lot in classic American literature, such as The Grapes of Wrath, Catch-22 and The Great Gatsby. In contemporary superhero stories, the element of fighting destiny comes up most often when a character decides to become a superhero. Very few superheroes are born into their line of work. What leads the protagonists to decide that this is their calling? A supervillain rebelling against destiny, such as Sylar or the Kingpin, is usually born into a decidedly mundane and powerless family. Another common type of escaping destiny is fighting with one’s parents and/or dealing with stereotypes.

15. To achieve one’s destiny. The favored goal of Chosen Ones and megalomaniacs everywhere. I don’t think this is nearly as interesting as escaping destiny because a destined hero isn’t really driving his own story so much as conducting a train on a track laid by somebody else. If I had to shroud a character in destiny, I’d rather make it the villain The Boy That Lived, The Chosen One, the child born under a rare astrological sign, the subject of a great prophecy, the heir to an ancient and illustrious organization, etc. It’ll make the hero’s journey all the more challenging if he has to overcome all that on his own.

Feel free to mix and match! For example, one of my villains has his romance is aborted by the untimely demise of his lover, so he searches for knowledge to help humanity by overcoming destiny (human mortality). Cue the Lovecraftian horror music. What do you think? Do you have an interesting motivation you’d like to share?

2. Another option is having the character start with an action that is typical to him, but NOT typical to most other protagonists. This is why opening a book with the character waking up is usually ineffective. It rarely launches into the unique/interesting aspects of the character and the story quickly enough. You didn’t write a story about this character to show him waking up, so just skip to the part that we WILL care about.

3. Many (most?) stories start with a character in a comfortable/safe but not particularly glorious situation. (Luke Skywalker, farmer-in-training. Bruce Wayne, happy son. Guy Montag, data management specialist). If the inciting event of your story is an event or action that forces the character out of his comfort zone, then it helps to establish the traits that will be most important to understanding how the inciting event will force him to change. For example, Bruce lives a carefree, sheltered childhood and has it ripped away from him by the senseless murder of his parents. That’s probably all we need to know about his childhood. What do you need to establish about the character and his situation before the inciting event? Ideally, the less, the better. The material before the inciting event is more like an investment than a payout.

4. Showing that the character is relatable early on can help, but don’t let that be an excuse to do a bland/forgettable setting. Schools are particularly vulnerable to this (geeks/dorks getting abused by jocks/bullies, kids struggling to fit in with the cool crowd/cheerleaders, etc). Establish right away how your world is different than similar ones. For example, Ender’s Game is partially about a kid trying to fit in at a new school, but since the kids are competing to be the ones to lead humanity’s war against an alien race, usual struggles (like gaining the respect of the old hands) tend to play out in very fresh ways.