Flaws In The Ointment

Okay, bad pun. I’m talking about character flaws. Those traits with which you imbue your hero and heroine to make them human.

In my first two manuscripts (both traditional romantic comedy/suspense) my characters have flaws all right. But they’re the kind that endear you to them, not turn you off (hopefully).

In Fit For Love, Ava is a couch potato whose idea of working out involves beating fellow shoppers to the cashmere sweaters at the day-after-Thanksgiving sales.

In Stealing Amy, Nick is absentminded to the point that he places little sticky notes on his laptop to remind him which tie to wear with which suit when he travels. (Aw, sorta sweet, huh?)

Not that the characters in these books didn’t have deeper, emotional flaws…but they were flaws that made the characters heroic. Chinks in their armor with which the reader could easily sympathize.

But now I’m writing chick-lit and without even meaning to, I’ve created characters whose flaws are deeper and less likeable. Rose, for example, is possessive and clingy, both traits I abhor in women. The trick, I’m finding, is to show the reader enough motivation behind the behavior to make the character sympathetic.

Duh. It all makes such sense when you think about it.