On Unlikeable Characters

Many MANY moons ago, when I was with my first agent who was pitching my first novel to publishers--back when "YA" was still a relatively new category--I received a rejection from an editor who passed because she found my main character too "unlikeable."

I cringed at the word then--but hey--this was an editor with a big house, and of course she knew what she was talking about. But now, almost fifteen years later, I find that I'm still not a fan of this word: unlikeable.

What is an "unlikeable character," really?

Because to me, "unlikeable" means complicated and conflicted. It means they're making mistakes all over the place. They're not perfect. They don't always say or do the right thing. . . .

But isn't that just being "human"?

No one is fully likeable 100% of the time. And, if they are, where is the conflict? How does a fully likeable character make for an interesting story? 

The thing is, we can still, as readers, find unlikeable characters appealing. We can find their "unlikeability" compelling at various degrees, especially when we see ourselves in them. That's what makes them real and relatable.

So pass on, editors, but discerning readers know the best characters come with their own set of flaws, and, at the end of the day, "likeability" is a stale litmus where story is concerned.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~ 

Sweat the Small Stuff

When revealing character, the small details matter. They might matter more, in fact, than the "big" details.

When I first sent ALL I NEVER WANTED to my beta readers, one returned the very first page with a note that changed the way I described my characters:

First and foremost, this is a story of redemption.
But it’s also a love story. A love story that begins with a black eye and a mental health facility, and while that hardly seems the setting for a modern romance, and I’m the last guy anyone would consider a knight in shining armor, trust me when I say I’d suffer a thousand black eyes to meet her again. But before there was the rehab and the fist to the face and the falling for a girl with jagged nails and graphite smudges on her fingertips, there was my dad’s annual holiday party. And it happened like this. . . .

I don't remember how I first described Summer Evans in the prologue, but it leaned toward blonde hair and blue eyes and was, in a word, boring. It was the beta who suggested I re-think how I first presented Summer to the audience. Hair and eyes are great, but those jagged nails and graphite smudges tell a much deeper story, don't you think?

It's the little details that will add life to your story. I could've gone on about how massive Trent's house was, but I zeroed in on the columns--the leaves carved into the capitals--and it really only mattered that Crewe knocked a server's tray out of her hands at their dad's party, but it's more exciting when it's a silver tray of miniature cannoli which scatter, rolling across the marble floor.

The little details aren't so little, then, so don't equate little with unimportant. It's the small things that the reader will remember--that will breathe life into your story.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~   

This Sentence has Five Words. . . .

Sentence structure and word choice. 

They're two of the most important tools in your writer's kit. 

Vary your sentence structure.

Choose your words carefully. 

Make your writing sing.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~

On Secrets

What's one of the best ways to begin a story?

with a secret

     A secret tells us something has happened before the story began.

     A secret offers a hint as to where the story might lead.

     A secret automatically puts characters at odds with one another.


A secret puts a story in motion almost immediately, creating its own narrative arc.


Quick--

What is something your main character is hiding from everyone else? Why is he keeping this secret? How does this secret affect him? How does it affect his interactions with the other characters? What are the stakes? (i.e. What does he have to lose?)

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~