Protagonists
October 31, 2011 7 Comments
I sometimes state, “Your protagonist doesn’t protag.”
My Webster suggests that a protagonist is the prominent figure in a real situation. It is usually a good idea to have someone to care about, plot point by plot point. This might seem to be fundamentally given, but I’m surprised how often the issue comes up.
Writers often work directly from plot, building characters much like they do setting; a little of this, a little of that. Once halfway through a hundred thousand word novel, the question creeps up: Who exactly am I rooting for?
This is a hard problem to ignore, given my axiom that a novel is finished when the internal struggle of the main character finds a different comfort level. If we can’t do the first (define the main character), it’s impossible to find the second (define the internal struggle).
A number of writers have said they prefer more than one main character, but this obviously presents problems with internal struggles, making it a difficult concept. I suggest having a prominent figure in a realistic situation.
I’ve noticed a kind of pattern with many novels, of late. There is a tendency to work at creating the sympathetic character that is utterly downtrodden. I do this too, and the novel, Shaman Within is an example. At first the protagonist has a problem, then the character has a bigger problem. Some are resolved early, but the cycle continues until nothing but problems abound. The strategy of building sympathy bears taking a closer look because there’s more to it than just beating on the kid.
Let’s start that closer look with the second definition of the protagonist: The advocate or champion of a cause or idea. Usually the lack of this strategy is why I end up saying, “Your protagonist isn’t being a protagonist.”
Even while your main character is suffering from mounting problems and deeper downtrodden depths, he or she should act. Nobody likes a moping character. (See Twilight for the lonely exception; not that I can explain why people like it).
Sympathy has two components to it, in my opinion. One is a need for our sympathy because problems and conflicts accost the character. The second component is that we see the person struggling to earn our respect. The character might be downtrodden, but the character doesn’t necessarily deserve to be treated so poorly. My protagonists protag. They are always fighting back.
About Gary Wedlund
This article has really got me thinking.
Something I enjoy in a story is watching a protagonist’s internal struggle dictate her responses to a situation, which then backfire, placing her in the trod-upon, sympathy-generating situation. As outsider I can see her problem, but she can’t, and I can root for her as she comes to realization and faces her problem, and then overcomes it, which would then lead to resolving the story problem.
I have seen where things happen to a character, and they respond – but fail to do so with the internal problem in mind. Which is fine to a point, but often a good story is about the character’s internal struggle – and not the plot. Huh. Now that I’ve stated it like that I think I will have to try to intentionally apply that to my next story.
Good stories incorporate those internal problems, which might lead to plot twists -if the writer can be aware of what the character needs to face next as part of her internal journey. The trick is to keep the character alive and not so locked into her mode-of-existence that she becomes a caricature, and this is especially true of antagonists, should a story incorporate one.
I’m guilty of having had protagonists who only responded, who didn’t “protag” in their own interests. Thanks to Gary’s help (among others), I’m coming to see the error of my (hopefully former) ways, and making my protagonists work to dig their *own* ways out of their situations. Of course, this means my writing has improved by leaps and bounds!
Thanks Gary!
When using multiple characters/protagonists (which you know I like to do) I like to have their struggles reflect off each other. And the struggle is key. I am in total agreement with having the protagonists fight back. It makes for a much more vibrant and interesting story.
I am not sure that sympathy is needed, but the reader should feel some connection with the main character and understand motivations and actions, even if they don’t agree with them.
My novels are in first person POV, and the main character is generally considered the ‘good guy’, but readers have commented, for example, that in one scene he slays some mermaids who serve/work for a goddess who is opposing what the main character is trying to accomplish (and not like they were not part of the force tring to sink the ship he was on). Really, are the mermaids bad guys or just an opposing force and could the story, written from a different POV place the current protagonist as a ‘bad guy’?
That’s very true, Terry. In my opinion, sympathy can, and probably should, take on the widest possible interpretation. Sympathy, to me, means finding a way to care about what happens to the character next. That is not the same thing as having someone we feel sorry for or who we even like. Carrie, for example, is a character we don’t really love, but we find enough interest there to want to see something decent happen for her.
In The Hidden Shaman, Abi kills a boy in the second chapter. The boy is mean to her and has had a small hand in killing an innocent woman, as well as of equal age and stature, but it’s clear he’s overmatched. This is not Abi’s shining moment, but we are already riding her back. We want her to do better and have seen her do better. We understand why she overreacted even though it’s hard to sympathize in the classical sense of the word sympathy.
What is much more important than all of these shades of getting to like the ride is the idea that they do something. In the case of Abi, she has three choices. She can do something redeeming that causes us to warm to her, she can do something vile that causes us to want her to do better or she can do nothing at all. That last item is what I rile against. We want actors to act, PERIOD. If scene after scene, the protagonist refuses to respond in any meaningful way, we wonder why we are responding by turning the page.
Be sure to check out Flank Hawk by Terry W Ervin II: http://www.amazon.com/Flank-Hawk-Terry-W-Ervin/dp/0982508700/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1320716664&sr=8-1#_
Gary, with your definition of sympathy, I agree. And yes, character reactions to events (of their own making or otherwise) are important to thereader’s understanding and connection with the character.
hi!!!