I’ve been happily immersed in the new seasons of Outlander and Game of Thrones, as I’m sure many of you are. I also recently binge-watched every available episode of The Fall, a wildly popular BBC thriller.
The trio of shows have many things in common, but as I’ve been pulling together a talk about female protagonists, I noticed in particular that all three of these shows boast very powerful female protagonists, some of my favorite in recent years. Stella, in The Fall, is a British police detective, called into a Belfast police department to help solve a crime. Claire, in Outlander, is a WWII era nurse who finds herself back in time in Scotland in the 18th century. Daenerys Targaryen, in Game of Thrones, is the last of a line of of royals who ruled dragons. The dragons have been extinct for hundreds of years, and it appears her family line is going to be extinct as well. (There are many examples of strong females in GoT, but I’m going with my personal favorite.) I’m going to use them as examples here, but don’t worry, there are no big spoilers. I’m only speaking in general terms.
What are the steps to creating a strong female protagonist? What are the pitfalls? How do men and women protagonists differ?
She has goals for herself.
Stella, in The Fall, wants to catch a serial killer
Claire, in Outlander, wants to get home
She is conflicted.
Stella is thwarted by officials, by her own nature, which we’ll go into in a minute, and by the killer himself
Claire wants to return to her husband in the twentieth century, but she also falls wildly in love with a Highlander she is forced to marry.
Daenerys faces many many challenges over time, but her first is survival, which means making peace with the barbarian king, and winning him over.
[pullquote]One of the great flaws I see in female protagonists is that they are often so very good.[/pullquote]
She acts to reach her goals.
In other words, she doesn’t just let events happen. She makes a decision to go forward and then faces the consequences of those actions, right or wrong. Claire makes bad choices for the 18th century at times and is beaten for it, but she doesn’t cower afterward and feel apologetic. No, she’s furious and stands up for her own beliefs, even when others don’t agree with her.
Stella is a complex character, but one of the things that makes her very interesting is her unapologetic sexual tastes. When she sees a detective on the street changing his shirt, she gives him her hotel room number, and he comes to have sex with her, but the whole thing is kind of bewildering to him because the culture is still quite sexist in the way Catholic countries often are. When she’s later questioned about him and asked what he was doing there, she says clearly and without apology, “Sexual intercourse.”
We don’t expect that. Her fellow officers really don’t expect it. She refuses to apologize for having the tastes she has.
When Daenerys is married off to a barbarian king, she’s nothing more than a beautiful child. But as sometimes will happen, she bonds with him, and he in turn teaches her to be a queen, Khaleesi. She learns to make decisions, to live with them, even when they have disastrous consequences. It is actually a female virtue that causes her the most trouble: she is empathetic and does not want people to suffer. So she frees slaves, and she rescues war victims, and this often comes back to haunt her.
But she does not wail and moan and cry about her bad decisions. That’s the part that makes her a great, strong character.
Avoid the good girl/bad girl dichotomy
One of the things I find most disappointing about our culture, about our ideas about women, is the good girl/bad girl dichotomy that still exists very strongly. Slut shaming is still a thing. How is that possible in the 21st century? But it very much is.
What does that word even mean? Slut. I looked it up, thinking it must be medieval in origin, and in fact, it is, but it was not used as a sexual shaming term in those days, but rather to refer to a woman who was dirty or of the lower classes, a kitchen maid or someone of that sort.
The modern use of a “woman who enjoys sex in a degree considered shamefully excessive” is from 1966. Interesting that it came into use just as women began to have the freedom to have sex like men, in that they could be protected against pregnancy.
By that definition, Stella and Claire both qualify as sluts, actually. They both really enjoy sex. It’s a huge part of their character development and the way we understand their decisions. Claire is able to bond with a second man even though she’s married and we don’t doubt her devotion to her husband, because she does like sex and that has already been established by the time she is expected to be with Highlander Jamie. Stella’s tastes are very specific and she’s very straightforward and it ends up playing into the plot in ways that were just brilliant, but I won’t give that part away. (It is a very dark show, just a warning. I did sometimes have nightmares after watching it. You may be less squeamish than I.)
Daenerys also has sexual tastes and acts upon them, but she’s living in an alternate universe, and again, she’s Khaleesi and Mother of Dragons, so that carries a certain amount of power. She’s a queen. She can do as she likes.
None of these characters are “good girls” or “bad girls.” They are both, in one person, as we tend to be.
One of the great flaws I see in female protagonists is that they are often so very good. They’re good girls in every sense of the word. They haven’t had that many lovers, they do the right thing, they play by the rules, they are good sisters and good daughters and good friends and good wives and good mothers. I don’t know if this is an aspirational thing—that some readers just want to be good, so they like reading examples of women who are—but it can be very, very boring.
There is no such thing as a good girl or a bad girl, or at least there shouldn’t be. Every good girl has her dark longings, a helping of shame that she’s carrying, a habit she’d be mortified to let anyone see. None of us are always good friends or good daughters. I will admit freely that I am sometimes quite cutting to my sisters and to my best friends, and sometimes I’m not even sorry. Sometimes, I duck responsibilities. I am also quite nurturing. These things exist side by side.
To make a good girl more believable and interesting plumb those depths—find a secret, find some shame, find some unacceptable habit or obsession. And don’t make it something super easy to fix. Don’t be afraid to make us uncomfortable.
Same thing in reverse when writing a “bad” girl. Why is she villainous? What motivates her? What are her secrets, her shames, her losses? In what ways is she good and honorable? What are her virtues? I’ve been writing a character in my New Adult Going the Distance series who is mostly a bad girl. Mercedes is a writer and she uses sex to get what she wants. She has faced terrible losses and it gives her work a lot of power, but she also has trouble bonding, and even when she does bond, she screws it up most of the time. She started out as a foil, a red shirt, but she’s has become so interesting to me that I’m probably going to write her story, too.
Which leads me to:
Avoid making her a victim
I really dislike victim women. While it is absolutely true that terrible things happen, that families fall apart and sometimes your husband falls in love with another woman or absconds with all your money, there is nothing compelling about a whining, crying victim. Not that women can’t cry or whine–but they’d better be in motion toward something as they do it.
It’s just not interesting. Yeah, so a character is broke or suddenly single or even overcoming some really big trauma like a rape or a death—it’s a great spot to start the journey–but make sure that the character is making choices, not just floating along, and do it immediately, nearly as soon as the book opens. The choice can make things worse or make it better, as above, but she has to CHOOSE, to ACT.
Next month, I’ll write more about the ways men and women protagonists differ, and about detail work that brings female characters powerfully to life.
Do you struggle to write women characters? Are they easier? Who are some of your favorites? Do you have any particular challenges in this area? Let’s talk.
About Barbara O'Neal
Barbara O'Neal has written a number of highly acclaimed novels, including 2012 RITA winner, How To Bake A Perfect Life, which landed her in the RWA Hall of Fame and was a Target Club Pick. She is a highly respected teacher who also publishes material for writers at Patreon.com/barbaraoneal. She is at work on her next novel to be published by Lake Union in July. A complete backlist is available here.
“There is no such thing as a good girl or a bad girl, or at least there shouldn’t be. Every good girl has her dark longings, a helping of shame that she’s carrying, a habit she’d be mortified to let anyone see. None of us are always good friends or good daughters.”
This!
I love writing female characters. I embraced a gritty one for The Moon Sisters, who resented being labeled “good daughter/sister.” I love her for her complexities, and for giving me the opportunity to explore new territory.
In terms of favorite female characters, the first character who pops to mind is Francesca Johnson played by Meryl Streep in The Bridges of Madison County. I love Meryl’s realistic portrayal of a farmer’s wife met with great temptation and making a long-term choice, but creating a beautiful secret for herself at the same time.
Thank you, Barbara. I smiled all the way through this post, and I mean a real smile, with my eyes and everything.
FYI, if anyone is coming to the Pikes Peak Writers Conference, I’ll be talking on this subject in more depth on Saturday morning.
I love this post — and it’s so incredibly important. When I wrote a post for WU a few months ago about gender inequality in writing, I found out there’s actually a “test” to see if two women in novels talk about something other than men… it made me realize — like you — how much I want to create realistic and strong female characters. Women like my daughter and my friends. I think you make a good point that we should create characters that CHOOSE to act…that don’t just fall into things or float. That’s where the real strength seems to lie: in our choice to make our characters choose.
I loved your post, too, Julia. Gender discussions are fascinating.
I skipped class in high school to hide out in the empty auditorium so I could keep reading Gone with the Wind. That first chapter where Scarlet turns coquetry into her private secret weapon, where she defies Mammy and eats too much barbecue, then sneaks around the house while the other girls are napping, made me howl with delight. Defiance is such a wonderful thing to embody in a female character because it busts the good-girl myth all to pieces. And myth-busting is what I think good characters do. They say the things we can’t quite say and go into the dark empty rooms. They walk with dragons, seduce men and don’t apologize for having appetites, moral compasses or a weakness for expensive shoes. Girls need to read about strong uncompromising women. It might be women, after all, who save this crazy world. Thanks, Barbara!
Very helpful. Thanks.
Insightful post! Since the onset, and my very first crop of beta-readers, I’ve been complimented on my portrayal of women characters. Which sort of took me aback at first. I guess I identify with George RR Martin, when an interviewer asked him where his multidimensional portrayal of women “came from,” and he answered (paraphrasing), “Last time I checked, women were people. I write about people.” I suppose between my wife, my mom and sisters, and my friends, I’ve had great examples to draw from. Particularly my wife, who lies at the very heart of all of my work.
In spite of the praise, I never want to take this aspect of my work for granted. You’ve gotten me thinking about my female protagonist in my most recently completed manuscript—about her choices. In mulling this most recent work, I can say that I had a lot of fun with gender dynamics, and with one female secondary character in particular. This story precedes my original trilogy, and in the original work the character in question was not just a strong woman (she’s a warrior queen, sort of Boudicca-like), she’s demanding, brusque, brash, proud, and perhaps a bit too self-assured. It was fun going back to explore the years when she first became a woman, to delve into how she became Queen Icannes. As a young woman, she’s ambitious, vain, presumptuous of others, manipulative, and occasionally jealous and vindictive over it. But she’s also clever, dedicated, disciplined, loyal and loving. Even when her methods and means are questionable, we can rely on the fact that she considers herself to be honorable. To use an overly used word, she’s fierce. And I’m proud of her.
Thanks Barbara, for keeping me thinking about half of my characters. I aspire to always make them not just people, but people of free-will, with goals, motivations and inner conflicts. In other words, interesting, fallible, and identifiable.
I am working on toughening up my female main character, and this gives me so much to work with — thank you!
Love the George RR Martin quote, Vaughn. He really is so good writing women.
Thank you for this post!
Two things have been eye-opening for me when it comes to female characters. The first is the Bechdel test, most often applied to movies, but it can be applied to books as well. The Bechdel test asks three questions:
1) Is there more than one woman in this story?
2) Do the women speak to each other?
3) Do they speak of something other than a man?
So many books and films fail on the Bechdel test.
Then there is the Mako Mori test that asks only one question:
1) Is the story arc of a female character independent to the story arc of a male character?
After I found out about the Mako Mori test, I haven’t been able to read books the same way again. So many novels, including novels by authors considered to be feminists like Margret Atwood, fail this test. Not long ago I read Larry Brown’s novel “Fay.” The main character is a seventeen year old girl who relies on older men to get through life. In the novel, Fay is the least interesting character because she has no independent story arc. The change she goes through is becoming pregnant and losing the baby, but written in such a way that she doesn’t seem affected by any of it. Unfortunately, for many authors pregnancy qualifies as a story arc for a female character. /rant :)
Excellent post! What a great week on WU!
Woman characters – antagonist, protagonist and supporting play huge roles in my medical suspense thriller. As one of the commenters noted – they’re people. The female characters were definitely the most fun and satisfying fun to write.
This discussion, like most, is an exercise in semantics. Semantics (my definition) – what a word means to me is very possibly not what it means to someone else. Especially if it relates to an issue where one is emotionally invested.
I think I agree with your points but I’m stating some things here to outline my interpretation and allow clarification if indicated.
I much enjoyed creating a unique villainess, an enigmatic female ‘hero’, and a number of authentic supporting women characters. One character is guilty of being whiny at times (it does not define her), one could be labelled as a slut (an atypical one. I’d suggest common usage is not a woman who enjoys sex to excess but a woman who is sexually promiscuous or deceptive), one is a victim but she is not helpless and a couple are almost purely noble.
These characters could have been men. I think whiny men characters are credible, certainly male “sluts” exist, and some guys are generally noble (my opinions). One can identify that these assessments involve me making judgments. I agree.
I hope there are good girls and bad girls. Just as I count on there being good guys and bad guys. Writing would be no where near as fun for me if all characters were beings that did not trigger feelings of approval or disapproval – perhaps even love or hate! I hope my readers allow themselves to judge. I hope they feel outraged or disgusted by vile behavior (yep- subjective) by my characters (male or female). I want my readers to be attracted to or repelled by my characters.
Thanks for the tips on avoiding hackneyed, one-dimensional female characters. Provocative!
Great antagonist – Nurse Ratched of “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s nest(that is one very bad girl!)
Excellent protagonist – Maggie O’Dell of Alex Kava’s enjoyable series (came to mind as just finished her latest)
Thanks!
I knew there would be some discussion over whether there are differences between male and female strength. There actually are enormous differences, and I’ll get into more of them next round, but there really are struggles women face that men just don’t.
Of course, it’s impossible to generalize and say it is true for all people everywhere. You can never do that, but in general, women are shaped by a different set of challenges than men are. If you can tap into those forces, understand them, you’ll shape stronger female characters.
For sure!
Are there differences between the sexes in general strengths/struggles? Foolish to suggest otherwise (did I? Had not intended to)
One area I was unclear on in your comments was the question of whether there could be good or bad girls (female characters). My take is that ‘yes’ females (and males) can both be either “good” or “bad”(note earlier reference to semantics).
I think for all characters (male or female) readers respond to how the individual responds to their challenges. Those responses do (I hope) involve reader judgment and subjective assessment. If we are effective (credible reveal of character strengths/struggles and successful reader engagement) emotion comes into play. Each reader has a unique response to the story based in their individual interpretation/bias/wisdom/gender(?).
I suspect we are saying the same thing – or each saying slightly different things that are not at odds.
Thanks – looking forward to follow-up post!
Barbara-
We live in the age of wounded daughters and our literature–indeed the titles of contemporary novels themselves–reflect that.
Victimized, reactive, stuck, empowered at age nine but cowed by boys and alpha girls at eleven…is this the literature we want girls to read and remember fondly? Not me.
This is a great post and I’d go farther: Creating strong women is not just cool, it’s a duty. If the novelists, woman and men both, reading your words today do not model a different world for our daughters then who will?
It’s sad to me that your examples come from TV, until I remember that two of the three were based on novels. Maybe queens, time travelers, those with paranormal abilities, police detectives and forensic scientists will not always be alone in owning their power?
The power is in the fingertips of everyone reading this post today.
The comment on empowered at nine and cowed at eleven anticipates the second half of the post, Don.
And I’m so with you–I want a better world, better examples in fiction, partly because I’ve fought through myself, but largely because it seems even MORE important to me now that I’m thinking about the precious 3-year-old girl in my life. She’s might. I want her to keep believing mighty is an option.
Oh, and I used movie examples because more people usually have seen them, but as you note, they are taken from books. I’ll also be using WILD, by Cheryl Strayed next month, which is both a movie (a great one) and a movie (also great).
Do you mean that WILD is both a movie and a book? (Both great)
Such a relevant post, Barbara. Thank you for this.
In my novel, I have three female characters. I decided even before I started writing that I wanted them all to be strong, acting to achieve their goals. But I also didn’t want to end up with over-exaggeration. The female characters are each broken in different ways, but so are the men. My goal isn’t to accentuate the strength of female characters, but to accentuate something which I think is truer to life: the fact that, man or woman, a human being is susceptible to weakness, yearning, desire, and is capable of accessing the inner strength and determination which allows them to overcome their obstacles. The fact that they are male or female will bring into play different unique angles of their worldview and what it means to be human. Since I write epic fantasy, I get to have even more fun by inventing social and cultural customs (some quite radical; think Star Trek minus the aliens) that further break them out of stereotypical boxes. To me, a great novel is well-balanced, showing all sides of the complex equation of life, and that is what I strive for in my fiction.
I wonder if I’ll live long enough to see the female equivalent of a Walter White acted out on the small screen and embraced by millions of enthusiastic fans.
Have you read Chase’s Lord of Scoundrels? The heroine’s strength is one of my favorite things about it. She’s dealing with substantial risks and obstacles, but when confronted with a challenge which might make a peer swoon or retreat, she does the equivalent of dusting off her hands and saying, “Right. How can I turn this to my advantage?”
Thanks for this, Barbara. This is one of the issues I’m working on in the WIP. A good reminder.
Lord of Scoundrels is one of the all time classics. She’s so good.
I have always had a crush on Gillian Anderson and watching The Fall only grew the crush (except I admit I liked her better as a redhead).
My crush, I think, stems from her strength and her ass-kickerishness. And juxtaposing her with the fairly-impotent “chief” fella was the perfect way to shine even more light on her strength.
I am in a phase where I am far more interested in child characters and men. Maybe that’s because I don’t need to spend any more time in the head of a middle-aged woman. Nothing better than a spunky female character, young or old. And YOU are certainly at the spunky end of the spectrum.
I loved this post, Barbara. Thank you!
Hi, Barbara:
You had me at “secrets” and “shame.”
I consider secrets one of five crucial areas to explore with any main character (the other four being desire/yearning, defense mechanisms, vulnerability, and contradictions). Secrets instantly provide depth, because now there is an inside and an outside to the character, what is revealed to others and what is concealed. I also always advise my students and clients to swing for the fences: provide a secret that, if revealed, would change the character’s life forever.
I also consider shame invaluable in exploring a character, for the simple but powerful reason it’s social. This allows the writer to stage it among other characters. A moment of shame inflicts a serious doubt in the character’s mind about what her true status is among others. That doubt feeds her vulnerability — and secrets, shame, and vulnerability almost always go together.
There’s a great Irish expression: Better the trouble that follows death than the trouble that follows shame.
There was a recent WU thread on Facebook generated by an article by a woman critic titled “I Hate Strong Women Characters” (premised on her belief that “strong” women characters are often merely that, and not as complex as, say, Richard II, her man male example of what she longed for in a woman protagonist). I tried to stand up for exactly the three characters you mention (among others to be found on cable TV, but still missing from many Hollywood movies). The discussion got pretty heated (for a number of reasons) — but I was particularly stunned to hear a young woman describe Blanche Dubois as “weak.” I tried to make the argument that broken isn’t weak, and Blanche exhibits a complexity and drive that make her one of the greatest characters in American fiction, up there with Hester Prynne and Ahab.
But I didn’t close the deal. The young woman saw Blanche as nothing but a needy, manipulative drunk.
Last: My most recent novel was rejected by a woman editor who took issue with my women characters, who were simply TOO strong for her tastes. “Couldn’t you make them a bit more feminine?” One was an oncology nurse, and a buddy of mine whose mother was a nurse said, “I thought she was spot on.” (I ended up softening her tone but not her spine.) So — it’s not just men who can’t handle strong women characters.
And I agree with Don — It’s something of a moral imperative for all of us to provide women characters who reflect the strength, determination, compassion, and social awareness that the real women in our lives exhibit every hour of every day. I also agree with you, though, that any heroine who is “too good” will move through the story glowing with virtue like a nightlight — and generating about as much heat.
Great post. To the ramparts!
I tend to find men easier to write, maybe, I admit, because I see them from the outside, possibly more as stereotypes. Of course as a reader I love strong female protagonists, but romance readers and editors (I am as yet unpublished) seem to like my men and find my women less likeable. As I write their character arc, I want the women to show real growth, and find it difficult to write them strong at the beginning as they work through real life difficulties–this is not bombs going off but more putting food on the table. I’m thinking a I write this that their circumstances probably speak for themselves, that the readers get it without the women being quite so beaten down to begin with. By the end they show a lot more spunk, now just to work those qualities that in fact, get them through, into the beginning. It’s a process. Thanks for the input.
Would love to go to ppwc. A little late now–maybe next year.
Have you noticed that Donna Tartt likes to write from a young man’s POV?
Hi Barbara, Can’t wait to see you in St. Louis in June. Regarding this subject matter, I have noticed that in order to write strong female protagonists, one must BE a strong female. At least it seems to help immensely in my opinion. Have you noticed that as well?
I truly love a heroine who can stand up to a man like Loretta Chase’s heroine does in Lord of Scoundrels, but so many critiquers just flinch when my heroines stand up to their men. Makes me second guess myself, like perhaps I should soften them. But then I doubt Lord of Scoundrels would have been as memorable had the author toned down her heroine. So I agree with the previous poster; there is definitely a prejudice against women being truly confident and strong. But God Bless the author brave enough to write them.
I haven’t formally published anything yet (outside my own blog), but my female characters are based on the women in my own life – starting with (not surprisingly) my mother. She and the other women I’ve encountered in my 51 years are real people with real emotions and real issues. For them, their gender has often been a concern, but in the overall scheme of things, they face life as it comes to them. Imperfect as they may be at times, most of the women I’ve known have never fit a stereotype and never wanted to play the victim.
Hi Barbara:
Following the discussion about “bad” or “strong” enough protagonists to be interesting, but not so much that they’re unrelatable, I’ve also found that drawing from friends and family helps. Most times my perceptions, are flavored with affection, diluting the “bad”. Characters probably benefit in the same way.
By the way, I LOVE your books because of your relatable characters.
Amen! I love Barbara’s characters….and this post.
Seems to be a hot topic these days.
Buahahahahaha-
I’m a huge fan of AMAZING AMY from Gone Girl,
Camille Preaker from Sharp Objects.
Michelle Maxwell from the King and Maxwell Series,
Beth Perry and Mason “Mace” Perry from True Blue,
Katie James from the Shaw and Katie James Series,
Jessica Reel from the Will Robie Series,
Ginnie and Hermione from Harry Potter,
Kimberly Quincy from The FBI Profiler Series
Viridiana Savori, Gwinvere Kirena, Ulyssandra, Ariel Wyant FROM THE NIGHT ANGEL TRILOGY
Kate Daniels from the Kate Daniels Series
Great post, Barbara. There’s nothing more annoying than whiny women characters who don’t make plausible believable decisions. This tends to be the case in some mystery/detective novels where making stupid decisions are a useful plot device. Makes me want to throw the book across the room!
Rather than strong, I prefer complex characters. Some of my favourites are
Ida Scott in Another Country by James Baldwin
Barbara Kingsolver’s female characters
Alice Munro creates complex female characters as does
Chiamanda Ngozi Adiche.
Watching reruns of The Wire the other day, I was struck by how almost all of the female characters were weak or passive: the only decently drawn character was Kima.
I absolutely love this post! And I couldn’t agree more (obviously). The common meaning of “strong female protagonist has become so damn narrow, it’s oppressive in it’s own right.
Diversity is the key, truthfulness to how we are, how we feel and how we navigate the world with its many problems and challenges (and unexpected successes). And how we are is often complex, contradictory and wonderfully rich.