Other Ways to Write a Hero
By Donald Maass | February 1, 2023 |
Here’s what I Iike the least about superhero movies: In order for the hero to be affirmed as heroic, and for justice to prevail and the plot to resolve, in the end there must be a fight.
Not just any fight, mind you, but a gigantic, loud and massively destructive battle. You’re not truly a hero until you prove it, not with weapons but with your fists. (Or perhaps energy bolts shooting from your upraised palms.) That’s what a hero is. Violent. A fighter. Same goes for female superheroes.
Is that what it takes to elevate a mere protagonist or main character to the level of hero? Is that what makes heroes super? No fists, no hero?
I’ve posted in this space before about writing heroes and heroines. There’s a lot to say about that. My thought on that topic today began with Porter Anderson’s recent post “Another Diversity”, a look at Richard V. Reeves’s book Of Boys and Men: Why the Modern Male is Struggling, Why It Matters, and What To Do About It. Reeves’s book bemoans the condition of men today. The post occasioned a slew of richly deserved, sneering, oh-boo-hoo comments from women, no wonder.
However, it was Keith Cronin’s string of impatient (with men) comments that started me thinking. He wrote, “It’s time for boys to try harder and become better men” and “It’s time for them to find out what it REALLY means to ‘man up.’” I immediately pumped my fist in the air, but then began to consider why our first idea of what it means to become a man is that it must be hard and can only happen with supreme effort.
Questions occurred to me. In story construction, to become a hero must the hero necessarily start out as a louse? Certainly, change is inspiring but when we wish to make a male character a hero, does that mean that being male is being, de facto, flawed, or that the status of hero cannot be awarded without some kind of personal correction? More broadly, is heroism never innate and only earned?
Further questions. In another way, is being a hero always about exhibiting the qualities traditionally associated with manliness: toughness, stoicism, action? Is the only way to become a hero to go through a physical test, to fail, to be humbled, to face oneself squarely, and finally succeed? What are a hero’s qualities, but more importantly what are a hero’s values?
To be sure, we can ponder similar questions in constructing heroines. We can face the same presumptions that underlie our idea of what a heroine is or how she gets there. In creating characters, we are subject to our cultural biases and swayed by literary traditions, no way around it, but I think it’s important that we can look critically and deeper into what raises characters to the highest status.
The Making of a Hero
A hero or heroine is someone with whom we don’t just identify, it’s someone for whom we cheer. Heroes and heroines inspire us. That’s their function. That’s why they have long been part of literature, and not just popular fiction but enduring classics. It’s how dark and tragic characters sometimes become iconic: not because they are suffering and supine but because they are struggling and seeking. The very act of trying is heroic all by itself, and not only when there are impossible odds.
Trying is the action part. The hidden component is the value which a heroic character stands for, defends or discovers. Put those two things together—a high value and the action that demonstrates it—and you have the recipe for creating heroism. It can be an innate quality or it can be earned but either way it is something that primarily exists not on the page but in the minds and hearts of readers.
So, here’s my point: Heroism isn’t an action, nor a value, but rather a feeling stirred in the observer, and we can capture that feeling in one simple word: admiration.
Now, there may be a small number of readers out there who admire men who hit on women in elevators, tell racist jokes, don’t leave tips, and cheat to get rich. There may be readers out there who cheer for women who whine, manipulate men, make unreasonable demands, and belittle saleswomen behind cosmetics counters. We’re not talking about outlaws, rogues or bad asses—or even our newly admirable “bitches”—we’re talking about plain old crummy human beings. You don’t have to worry about them. What you do want are for the decent human beings, who are the vast majority, to cheer for your main character as they read.
Practical Heroes
To make that a practical reality, I’ve created a list of qualities and values that heroic characters can exhibit. My suggestion is to select any one thing from the list below and find one way for your protagonist to enact it. Since I started out thinking about men, I have fashioned this list for male characters (borrowing a rhetorical device from Keith Cronin) but it might also apply to female or other-gendered characters.
This list is highly personal but I hope suggestive. Here goes:
- A real hero knows to quit when anyone is getting hurt.
- For a wronged hero, an apology is good enough. Restoring right is then up to both parties.
- For a real hero, no game is zero sum. When a real hero wins, everyone wins with him.
- A real hero can be strong, and can also think, sing, dance and laugh.
- A real hero may usually be right yet never assumes that others are wrong.
- A real hero sees value in everyone.
- A real hero knows that there’s a difference between fighting for what’s right and fighting to prove that you are tough. He also knows that there’s more than one kind of fight.
- A real hero understands the difference between leading and conquering. He leans on his whole team.
- A real hero is loyal but not when that loyalty isn’t deserved.
- A romantic hero makes the object of his affection feel safe. A Romeo only fakes it.
- A real hero treats women with respect. In fact, he treats everyone that way.
- A real hero isn’t afraid to dress well, appreciate a poem, pay a compliment, show courtesy, express concern, or grieve the losses of others.
- A real hero likes fine things but fine people even more.
- A real hero stays clean, and not just by taking showers.
- A real hero is honest with himself. He knows his temptations. He may not always get it right, but at the end of the day he does.
- A real hero knows that courage means standing up for what is right, but also admitting what is wrong.
- A real hero makes sure that accumulating wealth makes others richer too.
- A real hero packs light, especially when the upcoming challenge is heavy.
- A real hero tests himself, holds himself to high standards, and encourages others when they fall short.
- A real hero is true to himself, but also allows himself to change.
- A real hero speaks up, sees far, leads by example, and never gives up.
I think we could use more heroes in our fiction, don’t you? Heck, we could use more in our world. As I said, my list of what stirs admiration is a personal one. Feel free to add to it. Make your own list. Whatever heroism is for you, your current novel is the place to demonstrate it. When you do, we won’t devalue your writing. We’ll cheer.
How are you making your protagonist a hero or heroine? Who are some of your favorites in the works of others?
Donald Maass (he/him) founded the Donald Maass Literary Agency. in New York in 1980. He is the author of The Career Novelist (1996), Writing the Breakout Novel (2001), Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook (2004), The Fire in Fiction (2009), The Breakout Novelist (2011), Writing 21st Century Fiction (2012) and The Emotional Craft of Fiction (2019). He has presented hundreds of workshops around the world and is a past president of the American Association of Literary Agents (formerly AAR).
[coffee]
Oh wow, Don, I am SO glad you tackled this. I have a huge pet peeve with the current spate of Greek myth retellings, which are happy to bemoan how Heroism is Toxic, Actually, What Is It With Men (and Women Are Sooo Oppressed*) without giving any consideration to how…well, at the bottom of it, that was entirely driven by their economic system. The primary sources spell it out with absolute clarity–
Glaukos, why are the two of us honored most of all
With seats and meat and brimming drinks
In Lycia, and onlookers see us as gods,
And we live on a great estate along the banks of the Xanthos
Pleasant with orchards and wheat fields?
It’s because we must, as foremost Lycians,
Stand and partake in the raging battle,
So that some one of these strongly-armed Lycians
Might say: They are not without fame,
Those who rule Lycia, our kings,
Who dine on fat sheep and fine honeyed wine.
But instead their might is worthy,
Since they fight among the foremost Lycians. (Hom. Iliad 12.310-321)
Basically, fighting prowess is a mill for political propaganda, and that’s what builds up the esteem necessary to hold land, which is the basis for economic security and wealth.
That’s why I chose to tell my WIP from the perspective of a disabled bureaucrat, the one who can’t fight but makes the whole economy run.
And he can pull all the real levers of power.
These are, in practical terms:
— The ability to supply accurate (or inaccurate) logistical information to the fighting forces
— The ability to assess and collect taxes
— The legal authority to assert who can hold land
— Managing politics, assembling political coalitions
— Managing vassals by coordinating public competitive displays of wealth (public feasts)
— Maintaining relationships with the gods by disbursing supplies for sacrifices
— Obtaining luxury goods and necessary supplies through international trade
— Cementing loyalties through the distribution of luxury goods
He is also a professional-level poet, so he possesses two more key powers:
— Determining who receives political propaganda, for what and how much
— To publicly insult and abuse, and make those insults stick
As a man who comes from the nobility, he holds one more:
— To marry, since this corner of the world is matrilocal. Women hold land, and you obtain access by marrying into that family.
Whoops, I wrote a dissertation. But it’s been a fun exercise to see what heroic qualities look like in this society once you remove the idea of poking holes in other people with spears. What makes a person effective? Intelligence, wisdom, generosity (both public and private), integrity, friendship, respect for women, but still, surprisingly, the ability to exercise deadly force when required. Twelve people die, but mostly it’s all about the lawsuits, and the friends we made along the way.
*In case anyone’s curious, this one was an economic issue, too! In areas where women did the weaving, had other professional occupations, or ran the estates because men were away, women had a great deal of freedom and agency. It’s only places like classical Athens, where all the professional weaving was handled by men, that women lived like they do in Afghanistan under the Taliban.
Yes, economics underpins so much including villainy. I also note that the first beneficiaries of corruption are the corrupt man’s family. Much to ponder for. Your dissertation, thanks for adding it today!
A real hero listens. He figures out what others need.
A real hero is, deep down, compassionate. It shows in his actions.
A real hero is an inspiration to others. People change for the better, by being near him.
A real hero knows that the size of a bank account does not indicate a person’s wisdom, worth, or true success.
A real hero learns something from everyone.
The most important part of your heroism agenda is this: “It shows in his actions.” Listening is kind. Compassion is good. Learning matters. But a protagonist’s positive qualities do not, by themselves, make a hero. Its value coupled with ACTION that does that. (And action isn’t necessarily two-fisted.)
Dear Donald, yes, yes, yes! I am so tired of all those fist fights, going on forever (and car chases…. don’t get me started on car chases)!
The hero of my first novel is a young scientist who has been following his dream since childhood, but decides he must give it up to protect a friend and serve his own values of truth and integrity.
One all time favourite is Captain Carrot from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels: Strong and intelligent, but humble, even gentle, never acting for his own interest, but doing everything he can to serve others.
Captain Carrot! Yes! Admirable man.
The heroic protagonists in my WIP are four unfinished souls who evolve by alternately reincarnating as males and females. It’s quite a journey writing it.
I’ll be curious to see what–apart from being reincarnated as alternating genders–your four souls actually do to become heroic.
A real hero is true to himself, but also allows himself to change. I read all your choices, but focussed on this one…which I would alter a bit: a real hero finds introspection and examination of his or her actions the course to follow to achieve his or her goal. We readers, writers are all flawed, introspection helps us examine our choices. In literature, a problem, a disaster, a major change in the flow of a character’s life requires the acceptance of things that cannot be changed. That requires introspection and honesty on the part of the character, which is easier to do in modern day living than heightened battles of yore. And yes, it is how the reader reacts to the character’s decisions that makes the reader label that character a hero. Thanks, Don. You always get me thinking.
Introspection and self-examination are good to do, but they are not actions. Actions are outward and visible. A self-aware person is likeable, but it is one who does something good that we can see who is a hero.
Hey Don — Good food for thought here, in a storytelling culture that can use the nourishment. Apologies for using a visual medium in a reading and writing space like WU, but the first hero that sprang to mind in reading your list was Ted Lasso. I mean, the guy knows nothing about the game, he seems to grasp that he’s been hired under false pretenses, he’s basically hiding overseas from a failed marriage, but his faults and failings have nothing to do with his heroism. He’s good at making other humans better, full stop. I think the world is astonished by him because it’s so rare. Which makes it all the more delicious (remember the lack of nourishment I mention at the top).
I also considered Vahldan and Elan as I read your list. I think that even though Vahldan consistently fails at being heroic, he aspires to it, for mostly the right reasons. I hope it’s enough to keep readers rooting for him. But really, it’s why I’m grateful to have stumbled into creating Elan. Yeah, she’s a badass. But I don’t think that’s what makes readers fond of her. Yes, she believes in Vahldan, props him up, cleans up his messes, and routinely pulls him from the fires he so blithely wanders into. But she believes in him not just for herself. She’s there for Vahldan because she believes in what he can bring to others.
Excellent provocation. This is the stuff that keeps me aspiring to do better. Thanks for keeping us thinking and striving.
Vahldan is the subject of your story, but Elan is its heroine. She’s the Ted Lasso who makes someone else better. She’s a woman whom I will never forget.
My current hero is Max, from the Netflix show, New Amsterdam. A hospital administrator who seeks practical solutions to societal and massively screwed up health care system. His favorite line: How can I help? Not at all the traditional hero – he’s caring, sensitive and empathetic.
In real life, he’d be fired in ten minutes, but the show still gives me hope. Reminds me to be a better person, simply by caring and trying to help.
Wanting to help is nice. Actually doing something to help is heroic.
To play this game, I offer a different version of the hero, but I incorporate the idea of admiration. The hero doesn’t fulfill the demands of conventional wisdom, because the story doesn’t depend on the hero changing from vice to virtue, or overcoming something or someone. Instead, the hero’s words and deeds change the reader. The writer is clever enough to hold readers, so that as the story unfolds, those readers become more and more admiring. Not of how a character changes, but through learning more about someone who initially seemed unworthy.
So, the reader gradually discovers that a less than admirable man actually is admirable in his actions? Something like that? I like it. We are quick to judge people, slow to understand them.
Oooh, I like the way you’re thinking Barry. Even more food for thought.
So much to think about, Don.
First, I do have to defend superheroes and the like. A good comic-book story often makes a point of having “the big fight” hinge on something other than who’s stronger. (The Last-Airbender Avatar once beat a powerful firebender by just dodging all his flames until he’d torched his own ships, or Magneto had once beaten the X-Men and was about to conquer the world when he realized he’d won by blasting a little Jewish girl a lot like his lost daughter…) A complete action story makes a point of bringing out those aspects of it — even if that wisdom seems drowned out by all the thunderclaps and the sheer number of superhero movies we’re getting these days.
But beyond that… yes, “heroism” is a lot bigger than fighting, *or* using a life-and-death pressure to show off some other theme. But then, that’s what any story is.
Any of the virtues you listed are the stuff of heroism, if the reader can stop and appreciate them. That makes it the author’s job to spend at least a little time on that soapbox showing that they count as strong, admirable, and often just as hard as winning a fight. Even if there is a fight, show how that kind of wisdom and balance make a *better* warrior than all the macho ways of cutting corners.
Every story has its own vision of what to admire, and what its characters go through to get there. One way or another, a hero ought to be a source of confidence, someone who makes us feel safe and actually seems to be outgrowing simple fighting, even if their world may not have.
Like Superman.
Magneto, a mutant intent on preserving his species, got a fabulous back story In the graphic novel Magneto: Testament. He is a Holocaust survivor, good example of a villain whose origins can almost seem heroic.
I like your point about heroes making us feel safe: the good in people does that. Appreciate you chiming in!
I’m not sure why your very estimable list made me weep. Partly from joy, I think, just to see these qualities listed, and partly from a sadness that out in the world, these things matter less in certain quarters than they should. I think that’s why bring me back to LOTR every couple years and deepen my appreciation for hobbits. My MC is fiercely loyal to her family, but she’s also young, rash, and emotional, sometimes running headlong before working out the balance between what she’ll risk ad what she’s willing to lose. I’m still working on those things myself. Thank you the inspiration.
If the value (virtue?) that will underpin your heroine’s heroism is loyalty to family, well okay I guess. Family is a good thing…until it’s not. My point is that it sounds like you are pitting your protagonist’s headstrong self-serving against the goodness of family. To be a heroine, in other words, she must come home? Is that the idea?
Hmm. When Dorothy clicks the heels of the ruby slippers we’re relieved because she’s being rewarded and will be safe. Her heroic act, though, happens before that: reducing the Wicked Witch to a puddle. Just sayin’.
For me? I like male characters who are mannerly, care about family and those close to them, and aren’t afraid to admit when they’re sad, scared, or afraid.
I like male characters with those qualities too, but having those qualities is not by itself heroic. Feelings are fine. Actions make a hero.
Don, I first thought of Tom Joad in Grapes of Wrath as a hero in development, who goes from being an easily angered wanderer into a guy committed (and helped in that commitment by the former preacher Casy) to helping people, particularly people who never have had a fair shake. Of course, it does help to cement a fellow’s heroic aspect by being portrayed on the big screen by a very watchable Henry Fonda.
Tom Joad, yes, heroes come in many shapes and forms, but what they have in common is goodness.
Wow, I’m honored to be name-checked like that, particularly after my rather testy contributions to Porter’s recent post. (Frankly I kinda expected to be put into WU Time Out – I assume the penalty box is hidden somewhere near the secret WU pub that I *still* haven’t managed to find!)
I love the list of heroic traits you and others are building here. I’ll chime in with a few more qualities that I consider heroic:
– A real hero considers what others need over what he or she desires.
– A real hero does the right thing even when it won’t get noticed – or rewarded. (One of my favorite quotes from the Tao Te Ching is “One who gives with the secret hope of getting is merely engaged in business.”)
– A real hero places the happiness of loved ones over his or her own happiness.
– A real hero is willing to fight and lose rather than avoid standing up for what is right.
Doing the right thing without calling attention to it, yes, that’s heroic. And thanks for the inspiration, Keith, no time out required.
Don, thanks for your analysis. I wish I’d had it 45 years ago :D. Back then, as the single parent of two boys, I put a lot of effort into raising them as good men and trying to understand what that could mean. Among other things, I offered them potential role models, real and fictional. The one that clicked for both of them was Spenser in Robert B. Parker’s novels. My boys took note of the way Spenser’s actions showed that he respected women, loved Susan immoderately, was loyal to his unconventional friend Hawk, and could cook a gourmet meal. My sons have carried these values forward into their adult lives (and worked as chefs for a while). I’m glad I had a chance to talk with Parker and thank him for creating Spenser.
As a reader I’m often drawn to novels with a hero like Stoner in John Williams’s novel of the same name, someone living what seems like an unremarkable life, but who makes it a good life. In my review I said that in the face of failure Stoner “does not give up. He does not run away. He stays and does his best. And at the end there is a sense of himself, of being his own person. His dreams may be simple, but he is not a simple man.”
Barbara, I loved Stoner too, for the measured way he dealt with his sometimes-jarring days, and his integrity. Great book and nice thoughts in the review.
Wow, I have not read Stoner! I must, that’s a huge recommendation, thank you.
My favorites? Patrick (The Guncle), who cares for his grieving niece and nephew, adapting his lifestyle and routine to accommodate their needs. Tova (Remarkably Bright Creature), who is attentive to detail, steadfast, and curious and compassionate toward Marcellus. Bree (Legendborn), who’s intelligent, angry at self and Mom, a risk-taker, seeking answers to her mom’s suspicious death.
In my story the older protagonist, having survived losses of family and homeland in WWII, is a stoic, no-nonsense, presence for younger generations, providing room in her home or money for education, her way to promote a more compassionate world.
Good examples and good story you’re spinning! Thanks for both!
Hi Don:
By some odd coincidence, your post arrived on the same day as a post from Matt Bell on his “No Failure, Just Practice” substack titled “The Protagonist Trap.” (I would provide a link but it’s my understanding that’s a surefire way to land in moderation limbo. Googling for it isn’t simple, but with a little creativity I think you can find it — I highly recommend it.)
I realize you’re talking about heroes, not protagonists, but Bell’s point is that a morally flawed protagonist, whose flaw seriously tests or challenges the reader’s own sense of what is right and good, engages the reader in a deeper, more meaningful way than simply rewarding their own preconceived notions of the good.
I’ll let him say it himself:
“Assuming the novelist is writing in good faith, what accounts for the feelings readers sometimes express when a character demonstrates some perceived moral lack? It is possible that their anger or frustration or dismay or other expression of moral angst is actually the point? What’s happening here, at the level of craft, to make the moments powerfully affecting?
“It’s my belief that sometimes the emotions that arise in these moments aren’t really about the protagonist’s moral lapse (which is also not necessarily the author’s, a fact that’s lost on certain readers), but about something that’s become exposed in the reader’s own moral code: a complicity, an inconsistency, a flaw. I believe that in the best books of this kind, the writer works to actively encourage this happening, not to be frustrating to the reader but to offer them richer ambiguities and an unfolding moral awareness.
“One way to make this possible is to skillfully set what I think of as the protagonist trap.”
That trap is set by understanding the reader’s natural inclination to identify with the protagonist, to cheer him or her on, and to wish for their success. But what if the protagonist then does something we find immoral–how does the reader respond?
Now, to make sure you don’t completely alienate the reader, there are certain techniques to use: employing a “conscience figure” who challenges the protagonist’s actions, or having the character herself doubt whether she’s doing the right thing.
“From those questions emerges the moral world of the novel, a morality that ultimately lives best not in the book itself but in the mind and heart of the attentive reader of good faith—and isn’t that the reader we all want to be writing for?”
Finally, as a counterpoint to our discussion about manhood and masculinity that we’ve had here, I’d point out the somewhat explosive kerfuffle over at Hobart Magazine caused by that journal’s publication of an interview with “Iowa Pariah” Alex Perez, who has a lot to say about “masculine fiction” and its naysayers. Food for thought. Or thought for food fight–you be the judge.
Google “matt bell no failure only practice” and it comes right up. Easy Peasey.
Cool. Thanks. I kept trying to find the exact post for today and that’s where I think things got squirrelly.
Wow! Thanks, David! I set this kind of trap with the protagonist in my WIP; Bell’s analysis helps me clarify where I want to go with it.
I realized as I was writing that my heroine has much to atone for that she has not yet realized. As a hunter of vampires and rogue paranormals, she was raised to believe that all vampires were evil, automatically kill -on-sight. Then the existence of paranormals became generally known and she agreed to abide by new laws that prevent her from killing an individual vamp without evidence of wrongdoing. Circumstances lead to her to collaborate with vampires against an underground organization that preys in vulnerable humans as well as vamps and other paranormals. As she works with the vampires, she realizes that they are just like humans, some good, some bad. Saving a few vampires during the course of the story shows her acknowledging the change in view, but I’m struggling with her inevitable realization that she doesn’t even know how many of her earliest vamp kills may have been innocent. She saw herself as a white hat, but now there’s a good chance that she was essentially a murderer. To maintain the heroine position, she has to do something to atone. An apology seems not enough. Treating vamps the same as humans going forward seems like just part of being a heroine. Am I right that there needs to be something more, and can that something more be symbolic (Rue and white roses dropped into a river near where her first kill was made?
Shawna, your dilemma reminded me of the scene from Gandhi, where a Hindu father whose boy was killed by Muslims confesses to brutally murdering a Muslim boy in revenge. “I’m going to Hell,” he tells Gandhi, who replies, “I know a way out of Hell.” He tells the man to adopt a Muslim orphan, and raise the boy in the Muslim faith. I think your protagonist may need something akin to that to redeem herself in the way you seem to be recognizing is necessary.
Protagonists who err are palatable when they are aware of erring, we then have hope of their improvement. The conscience character is another good device, at least someone in the story knows right from wrong! Spot on. I’ll have to check out Matt Bell, thanks for mentioning him.
I read that post too, David. Bell makes a valuable point about character likeability vs. relatability vs. heroism. Readers sometimes equate “protagonist” with “hero.” They feel like the author has betrayed their trust by creating a character who seems so admirable at the start and eventually becomes, or reveals himself to be, so despicable. Actually, the author hopes the readers will ask themselves: Why and when did I start disliking this guy? What does that say about my own moral values and how I judge myself and other people?
Wonderful reflection, Don. Thank you. I went back to read Porter’s essay–as always, provocative. I look to the lives of the saints–they’ve been my heroes from childhood. Father Damien of Molokai, Mother Teresa, Catherine of Sienna, Mahatma Gandhi, Albert Schweitzer, my mother. The last three aren’t canonized but the central quality that all these saints have is the strength to sacrifice their own lives for love of others. Each of their is a beautiful love story. St. Catherine too, is an unusual heroine. She encouraged the pope at a time when he fled Rome. Basically told him to be a man, a father, to his flock.
Saints! Forgot about them! Plenty of examples there for protagonists to follow, and hanks for that.
This hero stuff is very simple and very complicated. Thank you, Don, for banging away on your main message: “Feelings are fine. Actions make a hero.” And the corollary is, “The very act of trying is heroic all by itself.”
I love characters like Carrot and Ted Lasso, but I don’t see them as heroes. Ted Lasso strikes me as a sort of catalyst, and it’s the men and women involved with the team that take turns being hero. And Carrot (Terry Pratchett was a genius) is wonderful, but so naive that he rents a room in a bordello, and doesn’t know it. His first girlfriend turns out to be a werewolf.
The hero of the discworld stories, to me, is (of course) Commander Vimes, a former drunk in a corrupt police force who loves the people of the city in a way that he doesn’t quite understand. When he is pushed into a position of responsibility, he does his best for them.
Oh, we could spend a very pleasant evening discussing Discworld! We need a bar, craft beer and a good selection of whiskey! You in?
Nice list. Saved in my Donald Maas folder.
“Maass” Folder? I suppose that’s better than being the subject of a dossier or case file!
Please don’t ever stop posting your wisdom, Mr Maass. I love what you’ve written today and it resonates strongly with the hero of my current WIP. Thank you!
Planning to continue posting. As to wisdom, yeah, I’ll try to keep that up too but not making any promises, okay?
So many great insights here! One more to offerL
A real hero(ine) is willing to rethink her assumptions, and change her course of action as a result. In the process, she challenges or guides us as readers to reconsider some of our own assumptions.
Love all your posts, dude! In my world, I sense that most men and women are leading lives of quiet desperation and struggling to find a code (for lack of a better word) to hold up to their own lives as a sort of standard. This is even more deeply felt by men and women with bad relationships with their father or mother. I know this is true of the characters I’m creating in my current novel. Your bullet items, here, are a great start for setting things up so you can feel like you’re a hero in your own world, in real life. And that’s certainly great research, that can be applied as a core, inside the lives of your fictional characters.
In my wip my heroines, a mother and daughter over a 50 year period, don’t think of themselves as heroines. They do whatever is necessary and as a result, perform some heroic actions. I write using a principle I once read, but I cannot remember where from; ’emotion in the writer, emotion in the reader, no emotion in the writer, no emotion in the reader.’ And I am largely an unemotional man so if I evoke a feeling in myself, I think I am doing something right.
Great post as always mister Maass. I like my heroes to be ready to sacrifice themselves for what they believe in or for others. I like them to show humility at times and to have flaws. I do not like my heroes to have a bus or truck throwing match at the end of the story. I also like my heroes to sometimes fade away once the journey is complete, like Shane or Reacher riding off into the sunset.