We’ve spent some time discussing character motivation in order to round out your protagonist and make your book more engaging. Prior, I mentioned how important it is to know and express your main character’s drive and their stakes in the narrative. I’m doing this little summary because I just recently read a piece that did not make those points clear so I thought a little reminder couldn’t hurt.
Anyway, today we’re still talking about main characters! Hurray!
You know that girl back in high school? I assume every school has one. She’s smart – always scoring at the top of her class and the teacher is constantly reminding how the rest of you fail to keep up to the, frankly, unrealistic standards that she sets. She’s also probably part of a club or sports group. There, no doubt she’s the star member – bringing in all the awards for the school and pumping up its prestige. This, in turn, makes sure that you see her constantly at award ceremonies which mostly come across like they’re arbitrary assemblies mostly held so the rest of the student body can watch the staff fawn over how amazing she is. There’s little doubt she’s also on student council. Possibly she’s even the student president. She’s usually found leading student initiatives in the lunchroom. And she always has tons of friends who hang around, talking incessantly how amazing she is.
For me, this was Clair. For the rest of the world, this is Mary Sue.
She’s perfect. She’s beautiful. She looks like a model. She can do no wrong in the eyes of everyone around her. And you sit there, staring at her from across the classroom growing ever more suspicious. No one is that perfect. Something must be rotten behind that bright smile and never faltering upbeat attitude. You don’t know what that is but you can’t be convinced otherwise that there is something nefarious or hidden about her.
No one else thinks that. And so you feel like you’re alone in your suspicions and doubts. The only thing you can be certain of is that you don’t like her. And there isn’t a damn thing she can do about it either. Maybe she’ll notice and she’ll try extra hard to earn your trust. She’ll rope you in to some of the favours or praise she gets. She’ll try to convince you that all it takes is a little volunteering and you too can be adored by the student body. Or maybe she’ll offer to help tutor you with whatever class you’re struggling with but you decline because you just know it would be her smugly baffled over how someone couldn’t “just get this concept – it’s so easy!”
The more she tries to win you over with how perfect she is, the more it drives your ire and resentment.
This is literally what is happening with your reader when you make Mary Sue your protagonist. Now, I’m sure some people familiar with the concept may argue that it is sexist. That’s not true. Anyone can be a Mary Sue. You see, there’s a proud literary history for the Mary Sue. She started largely in fan fictions where authors would create an “original character” who just so happened to be an idealized version of the author themself. And this character would then take centre stage in stories revolving around whatever fandom the fan fiction was written about. I think earliest examples were the shockingly witting and beautiful new ensign on the Star Trek ships who won the hearts of all the captains and first mates while also earning the respect and adoration of whoever the female officers were for that ship.
I don’t know. I don’t watch Star Trek. Sue me – but don’t Mary Sue me. Please.
The basic problem with Mary Sue is this: she’s too perfect. No one is actually perfect in life. We all have our struggles and shortcomings. It’s what makes us delightfully, frustratingly, human. It also is what makes our stories so engaging. In many ways, by making a “perfect” character you’re really undermining all that work you put into establishing stakes and motives. How can a character’s fear of losing what’s precious to them drive tension if the character’s never actually threatened with that loss? How is cheering for them to accomplish their lifelong want rewarding if the character effortlessly gets whatever they want with seemingly little difficulty or obstruction?
Furthermore, and perhaps we’ll get into this a bit more later, a Mary Sue has no character arc. There’s nowhere for the character to grow because, by design, that character is already flawless from the onset. They can’t improve – they are already the model of perfection.
As a quick clarification, a Mary Sue is not every writer’s stand-in or character based on the author. The character needs to be strictly an idealized version of the author (or really anyone) lacking any real flaws or failings. I’ve mentioned before that basing characters on people that you know is a great shorthand for when you’re first writing. But it’s important to include the good and the bad. While you’re heightening the aspects that you like of that person in your fictionalized version, also take a moment to heighten some of their shortcomings as well.
So, when considering your main character’s personality and journey, also stop and ask:
What are my main character’s weaknesses? Are these weaknesses being brought up in the text and are they given moments to show my character in a less idealized light? Can I use my character’s weaknesses to heighten some of the drama or tension by making a situation worse for them because of these character faults?