Love to Hate Them
You just finished writing your book. You’ve sent it off to a handful of readers and are waiting with all the patience of a caffeinated squirrel for that coveted reader feedback. After what feels like eternity, it finally comes. And there you see it. The note that says they didn’t connect to your unlikable main character. Intentionally unlikable or not, protagonists who cause the reader to disconnect from the story can doom a manuscript. Reader feedback is a tricky beast, and it’s up to the writer to interpret it and decide how to move forward when that feedback isn’t positive, so before you hurl your computer out a window, take a moment to breathe and answer a couple questions.
Do you understand the criticism?
Decoding reader feedback can be difficult. “I don’t like your main character” can mean a number of things ranging from the character feeling unrelatable all the way to them being a straight-up monster. If the former is the case, you may have an issue of misaligned readership, especially if the feedback is only coming from one source or demographic. Always remember that your readers have their own backgrounds, experiences, and expectations. You want them to be honest, but that doesn’t mean that every note requires a rewrite.
If your feedback comes from many sources, including your target readers, however, you might need to dig a little deeper to figure out where the disconnect is so that you can address it in order to increase their investment in the story.
Does your character need to be likable?
If the issue truly is an unlikable character, the next step is to decide if that’s really a problem. When contemporary fantasy author Darin Kennedy learned that his critique group hated his titular character, a modern-day high school mean girl version of Scrooge named Carol, he came to the realization that “Making your character interesting and making them likable is not necessarily the same thing, and sometimes the whole point is that the reader is not supposed to like the character, or in my case, at least not at first.”
Writers are told that their protagonists need to be likable for readers to be invested, but literature is filled with unlikable characters, all with stories well worth reading. From Emily Brontë’s Heathcliff to pretty much any character George R. R. Martin writes, characters we love to hate are plentiful. There are many aspects to character development, and likability is only one way to hook readers. You can make an unlikable character work, but that means paying attention to other aspects of the story in order to ensure that your readers are able to connect.
Character development is everything!
Your characters are the windows by which the reader views your world, and if they fall flat, so does the story. Character development is key to storytelling, even when those characters are despicable. If readers find your characters unrelatable, they might truly be awful characters, but it’s most likely a case of underdevelopment. Humans are complex beings, and your characters should reflect that. Even the biggest jerks among us are filled with preferences, traumas, joys, habits, and needs. Your characters don’t have to be likable, but in order for them to be successful on the page, they do need to feel authentic.
When asked how he approaches writing unlikable characters, New York Times–bestselling author A. J. Hartley (also writing as Andrew Hart) says, “If I know a character is going to do or say things my readers are not going to like, I also know I’m going to have to work extra hard to make sure the character doesn’t become a cardboard villain, so I’ll find something that will make them hard to ignore. Maybe I make them clever, or funny, or I give them a reasonable motivation for unreasonable behavior. Maybe I just draw them very carefully in ways that humanize them: give them a hobby or interest, a quirk, or something as simple as a minor ailment. A hitman with a cold is less likely to turn into Darth Vader on the page.”
Different types of unlikable characters require different treatments. From the rough-around-the-edges with a heart of gold types to irredeemable villains, the amount of distaste for a character seems to fall along a spectrum. Stories involving each of these types can be successful given the right development, circumstances, and genre.
The Hidden Hero
This is your layered character with a rough exterior. Dr. Cox from “Scrubs,” Coach Hedge from Percy Jackson and the Heroes of Olympus, Jessica Jones, etc. There are many approaches to letting the audience see the good in these characters from adding internality to offsetting a hard image with acts of compassion or giving the character a higher purpose.
The Jerk Next-door
These are the Colin Robinsons, Dorian Grays, and Holden Caulfields of fiction, the everyday joes navigating life in a way that doesn’t add value to the world around them, and in some cases, makes the world a little bit suckier. Whether they’re arrogant, narcissistic, or merely self-serving, they remind you of someone you know. They might not be truly evil, but they rarely make noble decisions.
The Morally Divergent
Those characters who have their own code that operates outside the norm. The honorable thief, the assassin who refuses to take contracts on children, and the chaotic, unpredictable types whose actions are driven by what seems right in the moment all fall into this category. Part of the appeal is wondering what is going to happen next.
The Irredeemable
Bigots, perpetrators of heinous crimes, and other characters who are too far gone for any well-adjusted reader to root for. The characters who fall into this group aren’t meant to be likable, but they are meant to be captivating in some way.
There are specific considerations to make depending on where your character falls along the unlikability spectrum. Blake Snyder’s “Save the Cat” technique for screenwriting, which involves giving an unsavory character a selfless or compassionate moment, is often applied to other narrative styles. It’s a great way to connect readers to the Hidden Hero or the Jerk Next-door, but the Irredeemable having such a moment could create an unsettling paradox in the mind of the reader. It can add a dimension to the character’s personality but is unlikely to make them wholly likable.
For those characters on the further end of the spectrum, understanding their appeal is key. While I wouldn’t call Hannibal Lecter likable, he certainly is a fascinating character, both on the page and screen, because we have a morbid desire to understand why he is what he is.
Demonstrating motivation is a great way to develop three-dimensional characters. Providing an explanation for why a despicable character makes the choices they do gives the reader a way to connect. The star of my urban fantasy Fairy Godmurder is rough, rude, and selfish. I’ve been told she’s unlikable. However, the way Gwen treats others is a result of trauma, self-doubt, and a desperation to prove something to herself. In this way, she becomes a sympathetic figure, even as she treats the fan-favorite terribly.
Even if your character is detestable, if they are fully realized with their own motivations, quirks, and history, they become real to readers. Interesting characters, likable or not, make for interesting stories.
Don’t Let Your Readers Down
Writing an unlikable character is easier in some genres than others. Comedy lends itself to these types of protagonists while romance is a totally different arena. That doesn’t mean that you can’t pull it off; it just means that you need to understand the conventions and expectations of your genre, especially when it has a protective fan base. There’s nothing wrong with subverting expectations, but when you do so blindly, you risk losing your readers. Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Dark-Hunter series frequently involves men who start off unlikable because of extreme trauma and emotional defense mechanisms. The books are paranormal romance, so the character arcs usually involve a love interest breaking through the hard exterior and revealing the good heart beneath, creating a story that is well-received by romance readers. Some of those characters never become fully likable, but they all soften for their love interest. If they didn’t, the story would no longer fit into the romance genre.
In Silenced: A Cybil Lewis SF Mystery, science-fiction and mystery author Nicole Givens Kurtz writes about a cyberpunk private detective who falls into the morally divergent category, and this type of character works fabulously within speculative fiction where readers expect different societal norms and characters who transcend them. “Cybil Lewis is not a likable character in that she chooses to follow her own moral compass, which in many instances, is in direct conflict with the other characters she encounters,” says Kurtz. “What works for Cybil, and why readers tend to enjoy her despite her rough demeanor, is the fact she doesn’t violate her own self-imposed rules. Those rules are often rooted in justice and fairness in which The District and many of its residents lack.” This type of character fits into the genre seamlessly, and Kurtz’s attention to internal consistency in her character development ensures that she’s both relatable and captivating.
What makes your story special?
Understand what makes your story stand out, and use your characters to amplify those elements. If your characters are going to be unlikable, that fact should be a part of the appeal of the story as a whole, not an addendum. Nobody is surprised that my grog-chugging troll main character is a bigoted narcissist because the entire premise of Double-Crossing the Bridge is social commentary thinly veiled behind absurdist fun. They may be unlikable, but my disgusting, malcontent trolls are the biggest appeal of the story. When readers approach me to tell me how awful my characters are, they do so with a grin, just as I intended.
Once you understand what elements draw readers in, you can use your characters to amplify them. In his fantasy series, The Three Gifts, science-fiction and fantasy author Gerald L. Coleman includes a main character he describes as a “craven scallywag.” One of the integral elements of Coleman’s writing is its celebration of various Black cultures, and Nduma, as the unlikable foil for the protagonist Bantu, provides opportunity for the book to delve into Al’akaz, a formidable Black civilization central to the story. The interpersonal friction that can only be created with an unlikable character drives the narrative into the spaces that make Coleman’s work stand out. It is also those interactions that help make Nduma a well-developed character. When asked why the character works, Coleman says “Nduma is compelling because he’s the kind of character you love to hate. You can’t wait for him to get what’s coming to him.”
Make the Reader Feel Something
Where some may say that a character needs to be likable, I say that the sure way to kill a story is to make the reader indifferent. Even rude and vile characters need to be interesting, otherwise, there’s nothing to make the reader care.
The characters and their interactions with the world are the primary drivers of any believable plot. Focusing too much on the action rather than how events impact your characters, what their reactions are, and what makes them tick robs your story of the dimensions it needs to engage your readers. Whether you’re writing Ted Lasso or Raskolnikov, focusing on character development is key to connecting with your readers and writing a plot that feels organic. Well-developed characters who make good on the promises of your genre while also amplifying the special parts of your story will forge an emotional connection with readers. And in the end, isn’t that the point? Your characters are the heart of your story, and if that is a cold, dark heart, then so be it! Instead of unrelatable, unlikable characters, you can create characters that live on in the dark depths of your reader’s minds long after they reach “the end.”
This live webinar will take a deeper look at subtext–how to build indirect but important meaning, foreshadowing, and imagery into your scenes. It will also look at the realm of indirect communication: body language, cryptic dialogue, and even thoughts to deepen characters and create tension. Jordan Rosenfeld brings her experience as a writing teacher and coach, and author of six books on the craft of writing and three novels, to show you how to infuse a richness of character and the right mood into your book.