
Here’s a fun fact; we don’t actually read fiction for entertainment. That’s just the lure that draws us in. But what keeps us drawn in is the chance to learn a little about those baffling mysteries of the universe: other people.
Whether it’s couched in wizards, spies or spaceship battles, a story is basically an account of how a character changes. How they overcome a flaw, or, if it’s a tragedy, how they fail to overcome it and bear the consequences. Interpreting how other people operate is one of the hardest and most important things our brains do; anything that lets us rack up a few more experience points can’t be ignored. That’s why a good story stays with us long after we’ve finished, and why cliffhangers keep us coming back; we need to know what happens, so we can add that information to the big database called “Other People: What’s Up with That?”
Of course, for that to work, your characters need to have a flaw. That’s why, whenever people complain about a book or film that “didn’t work,” it often comes back to the main character being a Mary Sue. As well as being annoying, Mary Sues have no flaw to overcome, so any story featuring one is going to turn out a little pointless no matter how many cool sword fights you throw in.
So, your character needs a flaw if we’re going to be interested in what happens to them. No decent character can be summed up in a short column, but to make a compelling personality you’ll definitely need to answer these three questions:
What’s wrong with them? How did they get like that? And how do they overcome it?
Their flaw can’t just be something you picked off a list and which has nothing to do with the story. Their flaw is the story. If we’re going to care, we need to see how it screws up their lives.
Maybe they find it impossible to form connections with anyone because they don’t trust other people. We need to see the friends they’ve driven away, the relationships they’ve ruined. We need to feel the loneliness they insist is preferable to leaving themselves vulnerable by letting other people in.
About that vulnerability… we need to understand what they’re afraid of. How did they get that way? Whose betrayal hurt them so badly? This is sometimes called a “Shard of Glass.”
Imagine your character was impaled on broken glass at some point, and a shard remained inside the wound (the betrayal). That shard continues to stab them from within (the mistrustful behaviour that damages their present relationships). Until that shard is removed, they won’t be able to heal (form rewarding relationships based on trust).
Understanding where your character’s shard of glass came from is vital for the payoff, when their emotional journey results in the conquering of that flaw.








