1.01 Protagonists: Who’s Driving This Thing?
I thought a lot about the best place to start this unit. There isn’t a clean divide between subjects, and one can easily talk about protagonists, character arcs, and pacing in the same breath. They are more inseparable than not. However, since most folks don’t want to read mammoth-sized posts of me ranting about all aspects of character building, I will try to break them up into more palatable portions. So let’s talk about Protagonists.
As stated in the unit overview, your characters are the vessel for your story, and none more so than your protagonist. This is your “POV” or point-of-view character: either the person who is telling the reader their story, or the one whom the narrative is following. There can of course be many within a single book!
There are few true Rules within writing, but if anything were to come close for me it is that without compelling characters, your reader will lose interest. Much can be forgiven in a story but a boring or irritating main character is the fastest way to lose me. So what makes for a compelling protagonist?
It isn’t so much that they are the best, most virtuous person in their world, community, or occupation. In fact, it can be dull to follow a character who can “do no wrong,” which is a rising trait I have unfortunately noticed in a lot of recently published books. There is this odd sentiment I’ve seen circulating that the protagonist is the puppet through which an author broadcasts their personal beliefs, thus to have a flawed protagonist suggests the author shares those flaws and deems them unproblematic. Rid yourself of that notion. It’s a ridiculous mindset that, if left unchecked, will push writers into an unwinnable culture where “purity” is the ultimate goal and we must fear the mob that finds the first uncomfortable notion within your story. These are not the people you should be aiming to please.
There is obviously nuance here and a much larger conversation that can be had about parasocial relationships between authors and their readership, who you should and shouldn’t be “writing for” and purity culture at large, which I won’t get into here. My point for the purpose of this post is this: Protagonists who are never wrong are never challenged and never grow. They are uninteresting to follow because we end up with the very same person at the end of the book as who we started with, and to be frank, this perfection makes them less relatable to a reader. People are flawed, even those who strive to be kind and good in everything they do.
I want to note! Your protagonist does not have to become a “better” person by the end of your story. They certainly can, and it’s not an uncommon arc to write, but “better” can mean a whole slew of things. Perhaps different is a better word to strive for. Changed. You may write about a coward who learns to find their courage, or a jaded old warrior who has lost faith in humanity who must open up to people’s inherent goodness. The change can be seismic or small, but it should be meaningful.
Who’s driving this thing?
Whether your protagonists are on an uphill climb or a downward spiral. To make them interesting, it helps to define whether they are someone who is driving the novel vs. being driven.
Or another way to frame it: is your character in the driver’s seat of the plot, or are they locked in the trunk?
What actions does your protagonist take to move the story forward? Are they making choices that instigate the plot, or does the plot simply happen to them? You could visualize the fairy tale example of the princess locked away in a tower and the knight who must overcome great trials to save her. If the princess were your sole protagonist, the story might be about her pining, wasting away the hours, sighing wistfully at the window, leaving your reader understandably yearning to know what in the world that knight is up to, fighting dragons and worse beyond her view. The princess here is at the mercy of an external force to lift her out of her situation, which may make her sympathetic but not inherently interesting. That’s why most stories of this ilk focus on the knight.
A princess who is devising a way to break out and save herself, on the other hand, is someone worth following.
If you are worried your protagonist may be lacking some agency in the plot, ask yourself if there are more ways they could become directly involved. What is their goal, short and long term, and what are they willing to do to reach it? A character who doesn’t want anything won’t be motivated to do anything, and may soon find themselves in the trunk of the car.
There are times when it is necessary for the plot to happen to the character, but relying too much on external factors (thereby letting the plot “happen” to the MC), can becoming tiring. That said, the world should happen to them in moments so that it feels alive, and not a static stage for the protagonist to march across. As with anything, a balance must be struck.
For a great example, take N. K. Jemisin’s opener to her Hugo Award-winning novel, The Fifth Season.
Let’s start with the end of the world, why don’t we? Get it over with and move on to more interesting things.
What I love about this opener is its acknowledgement that something cataclysmic is happening on the world-scale, which will obviously impact the lives of the characters, delivered almost sardonically to suggest, yes this is happening and it matters, but what really counts is what follows. What matters is the choices that these characters make while the world is ending around them. Essun, the first protagonist we meet, comes home to find her young son dead, beaten to death by her husband who has since fled with their daughter. Essun and her children are all orogenes, a reviled group of people with magic that can quell or stir seismic activity. It is this discovery that leads to the boy’s death and sets off Essun’s immediate goal: to find her husband before he finds out their daughter is one too, all while the world around them falls into chaos.
Within the first few pages, Essun demonstrates a firm goal and an unwavering commitment to reaching it. Whether or not she does, that’s for the plot to decide.
The issue of need
The most common editing suggestion I give to new writers centers on what I call the issue of need. Kurt Vonnegut famously said that a character should always want something, even if it’s just a glass of water. I adore this quote because it emphasizes that the want or need does not have to be great in scale. They don’t have to want to save the world, but they should want something, and the reader shouldn’t be in the dark about it either. There is a misconception that keeping your protagonists’ goals secret will build tension and mystery, but I’ve found it usually just makes for a confused and frustrated reader. Tension exists in the setting and reversal of expectations, not springing surprises on a reader for which they have no context. Another great Vonnegut quote: Don’t leave your reader out in the cold.
It’s easy to see how the issue of need feeds into so many elements of storytelling—character arcs, pacing, tension, plot—and it’s pivotal in the crafting of compelling protagonists.
Questions to ask yourself if you’re struggling:
Why is this character the right person to tell the story? What is it about their specific desires and goals, their needs, that binds them inextricably to the greater plot? Do those needs put them at odds with other characters? What, and even who, are they willing to sacrifice to fulfill those needs and reach those goals?
They don’t have to be sympathetic or likeable, though it can be a harder sell to make an unlikable protagonist (one reason Holden Caulfield of J. D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye is so divisive). I tend to advocate for more idiots and assholes in books, as they delight me. But a fool can still drive a plot, and a grouch can melt a reader’s heart, sometimes better than the shiny, virtuous hero. Which brings me to my last point.
Contrasts
So you have a protagonist with desires who drives the plot. That’s a great start! From there, you’ll need to discover how to make your protagonist feel more three-dimensional. A good exercise is to consider what contrasting or conflicting elements you can add to their character. Think of a character trope: the innocent, starry eyed apprentice; the gruff lone-wolf who only works alone; the courageous chosen one who will tackle the world if it means doing what’s right.
You’ll find them all over the place, in all genres, because they are easy, recognizable, and they slot into the story in predictable ways. The apprentice often finds their spark, the lone wolf is forced into a partnership that they first resent and later would die for, the chosen one gets knocked down and almost can’t bear the thought of going on. Tropes are popular because they generally work, and the more business-minded might argue that they sell.
They don’t often make for memorable characters if you are following the trope to the letter, but they can be a starting point. Say you’re desperate to write that grungy lone-wolf who grunts half the time and has no patience for fools. Rather than making them an unshakable badass, give them a huge flaw that makes their jobs ridiculously harder. Give them an interest or occupation that others might consider laughable or embarrassing, or a crippling phobia that breaks through the hard facade. Indiana Jones gets away with being a charming, roguish hero who wins his battles with flair, but if you recall he also has a comical fear of snakes that occasionally renders him worthless.
Within my own writing circles, we often say how important it is to make your character a little bit of a loser. There is a delicious contrast in a tall, seductive monster who can’t deliver a pickup line to save their life. In the brilliant student who is so incredibly stupid when it comes to the obvious. To the brute with a soft spot for cute little pastries. That contrast is often what makes the reader fall for your characters.
No one will fault you for writing a protagonist with epic magical powers and a cool haircut. Just be sure to offer some contrast. It certainly makes them more interesting, and it makes them more human.
Protagonists Recap:
Strive to make interesting characters, avoiding the “too perfect” protagonist. Characters who can do no wrong can never grow.
Decide if your character is driving the novel or being driven (keeping in mind it’s okay to have a bit of both).
The issue of need: make sure your character wants something badly.
Ask why this person is the right vessel to tell your story and give your characters dynamic contrast.
Don’t be afraid to make your protagonist a little bit of a loser.