Previously, we tackled flat female archetypes and possible solutions to their plight. Now, it’s the men’s turn.
For those of you who aren’t aware—or just don’t feel like going back to this post—flat characters are those who are neither decision-making nor influential to the story’s plot. Sometimes, it’s hard for writers to spot a flat character because they know more information about him than what makes it into the story. More often than not, flat characters are difficult to recognize because they do make a decision—once. Then that choice becomes their M.O. for the remainder of the story, or until the character dies.
The problem with making the same choice at every crossroads is that the character doesn’t change or grow. He stagnates; he keeps the plot from changing; his scenes become lifeless, tired, worn out. He is a flat character, and this must be remedied.
Here, I’ve laid out five common flat male archetypes, reasons why they fall flat, and some suggestions for fixing them and turning them into characters who are full of life and make unique decisions. Hopefully, this list will give you a head start when it comes to identifying any flat characters who could be lurking in your own WIP.
1. The Prince Charming
I like to call this one the “male Mary Sue” because in a way, he’s essentially a flatter version of the popular, caring, and carefree female lead we all know and despise. Not only does he smite his enemies efficiently and face major setbacks with ease, but he also gets the girl and rides off into the sunset at the end.
Prince Charmings tend to follow a set pattern: appear on the scene, slay the beast, and pick up a demure maiden on the way out. The Prince in Disney’s version of Snow White comes to mind, but any male character who shows up out of the blue to save the day, without being properly introduced to the reader beforehand, is likely to fit the bill.
Why he’s flat:
A Prince Charming is often harder to spot as a writer because, just like a Mary Sue, most of his characterization happens offstage. There is probably a perfectly good reason for him to fight the dragon and prove his mettle, but the reader never gets that information—all we see is him showing up to rescue the damsel in distress. A bit of classic peril and adventuring is all well and good, but there has to be a reason for it. If this character is doing something heroic just because you (the writer) want him to, he’s a flat character.
How to fix him:
Prince Charmings are easy enough to deal with. Their main problem is a lack of characterization and motivation—so give him heaping piles of both. If he’s a literal prince slaying a literal dragon, maybe he possesses some power that makes him the only one capable of slaying the monster, and knows he must do so because he is duty-bound to save his people—right there, you’ve given him a bit of history and a purpose, a focus.
From there, expand. If your guy is leading some kind of resistance movement in a post-apocalyptic or dystopian world, how did he get to where he is? What makes him a good leader, and why do people trust him with power? What is his plan, and how does he interact with others in his group? Building your Prince Charming up to be something more than a conquering tower of muscle with ruggedly good looks—and a penchant for sweeping women off of their feet—will go a long way toward making him out to be a fully fleshed-out character, not your own personal fantasy. If you fill out a character chart/questionnaire beforehand, remedying your Prince Charming’s utter flatness will be a breeze.
2. The Buffoon
You’ve seen a Buffoon before. Typically rotund or plagued by acne or asthma, this is the bumbling sidekick who follows your main man everywhere, wingman-ing his way through the story. Sometimes, he has a strange but valuable skill that makes him useful to others. This ability usually allows him to free the main character from a trap or spell so that the protagonist can save the day.
Why he’s flat:
More often than not, Buffoons aren’t main characters in their own right so much as comedic relief and a quick way to keep the protagonist from accomplishing everything on his own, which would turn him into a Prince Charming. Buffoons tend to not get in-depth histories, and they also don’t make decisions—they’re simply along for the ride. A character who doesn’t make decisions is a character who cannot prove that he’s changing and learning—as such, he falls flat.
How to fix him:
While comedic relief is all well and good, the character providing it should have more than one purpose in the story. He needs to make decisions on his own, showing the reader that he’s growing and maturing as the story progresses.
The trick is to make sure the other characters in your story view him as a full person, not just the simpleton who tagged along for the ride. Show the reader how the Buffoon interacts with those around him. Maybe he’s the mediator of the story’s cast, the glue holding the group together. Maybe his morality and strict principles put him at odds with the protagonist. Maybe he’s extremely dedicated, training well into the night to keep his clumsiness from getting in the way of his mission.
The bottom line is that a character can be uncoordinated or a loudmouth without being a laughingstock—and if he seems like an idiot to you, he definitely seems like an idiot to the reader.
3. The Wizard
The Wizard is not always a wizard—but he tends to seem like he could be. Whether your Wizard more closely resembles Dumbledore or Yoda, the basic principle is the same: he is a wise and knowledgeable character, typically ancient in appearance if not also in age, who instructs the protagonist in his hour of need. More often than not, he warns the protagonist of great evil and sets him on the path to success. Sometimes, the protagonist can only find the Wizard in one location. Sometimes, he travels with the protagonist, constantly guiding him. Always, he is a beacon of hope and a symbol of wisdom to others.
Why he’s flat:
Much of the Wizard’s flatness lies in the fact that his personality is fully encapsulated by his backstory. From a reluctance to train the protagonist to a desire to live out his life in peace in a tower (as opposed to interacting with humanity on a regular basis, as everyone who isn’t a writer tends to do), the Wizard makes choices based on correcting his past mistakes or avoiding those who do not understand him—that is, when he makes a choice at all. More often than not, Wizard types merely show up to provide the protagonist with a cryptic message or prophecy before slinking back to their huts or caves.
How to fix him:
Wizards are people just like anyone else, so don’t put them on a pedestal. Let your Wizard be a real person—have him crack a joke, have him trip on the hem of his ridiculous robes (that he only wears because his mother keeps sending them as a birthday gift), have him rant about his favorite band.
The bulk of the Wizard’s flatness lies in his obscurity and tendency to be cryptic. No one is like that in real life unless they’re putting on the show of their lives, so don’t make your Wizard be cold and aloof, either.
Perhaps, while seeking his counsel, your protagonist has to track him down at a baseball game while the Wizard obliviously cheers on his favorite team. Perhaps, underneath his embroidered robes, your protagonist sees toilet paper sticking to the Wizard’s shoe. Perhaps it’s possible that your Wizard is a character you created, and as a result, it’s your job to give him a personality to go along with his supernatural powers and divine knowledge.
Above all, give the Wizard choices—maybe he helps, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he only reveals part of the truth. Maybe he runs away from the story’s main conflict, and your protagonist has to drag him back into the fray. Why? What scares your Wizard? What excites him? What does he love, and what does he hate? The more detail you give his personality, and the more he engages with the plot and makes decisions, the more real he will be to your reader.
4. The Sulking Soldier
This character tends to be like the male version of a Broody McBroodenstein, whom I talked about when discussing flat female leads. Often found with shadows in his eyes and a past he doesn’t want to mention (a dead mother or girlfriend may be involved), he broods his way through the story. The Soldier meets each action scene with skills he cultivated during intense training, recuperating afterward by vowing to never let his guard down again. He limits his friends to the people who can put up with his attitude. When asked about his lack of contact with others, he (truthfully) explains that he tends to repel people. This garners sympathy instead of wariness.
Why he’s flat:
Flat characters are people who don’t grow, and the Sulking Soldier fits the bill perfectly. You can have a socially awkward character with a dark past and be absolutely fine, but the second he gives up on trying to be accepted by others (and others stop trying to bring him into the fold) is the second you have created a Sulking Solider. He digs himself into a rut, running into the same problems and choosing the same “solution” again and again. Not only does he learn nothing from this, but he also doesn’t drive the plot forward. If you do the same thing over and over again, you’re insane, not interesting.
How to fix him:
The fix for a Sulking Soldier is similar to the fix for a Wizard: treat him like a real person, and have everyone else treat him that way, too.
More often than not, emotionally speaking, people are remarkably resilient. In real life, those who have lived through traumatic experiences or were abused in the past may have lingering fears, doubts, and physical symptoms of anxiety. However, once the source of the trauma has been removed and they have been allowed time to heal, many go on to live full, healthy lives.
Your Sulking Soldier is no different. Do your research on the effects of trauma and symptoms of PTSD, if you think your character suffers from it, but remember that his mental illness or insecurities do not define him. He is more than his past; if he lives in his past for the duration of the story, you haven’t created a character—you’ve created a ghost.
So, make him real again. Give him a favorite song, an insane love of pie, a tendency to roll his eyes whenever someone speaks the name, “Justin Bieber.” Make him insecure about the way his ears stick out, make him laugh at stupidly corny jokes, make him hang fuzzy dice over his rearview mirror because he feels like it. People who have mental illnesses—or who are socially awkward—or who are severely introverted—or who like to brood—are still people, and that holds true for characters you create, too.
5. The Asshole
You know this guy. You know him, and you hate him. Occasionally found strutting around with a blonde on his left arm and a brunette on his right, this guy uses a few cutting words to strip your protagonist down to his most insecure thoughts, laughing—no, chuckling—all the while. He smokes, he drinks, he gets into fights, he picks on the scrawny because he can—no matter what his M.O. is, he is bad to the bone.
Why he’s flat:
Okay, sure, you’ve created a mean character—interesting. And okay, sure, he provides an extra subplot, more stress, more tension for the protagonist and the readers—exciting. But really—why is he there? How did he become the way he is?
Boys don’t just come out of the womb grinning playboy grins and beating the weak into a pulp. Something (or someone) made him that way, taught him that it was all right, or expected, or necessary that the Asshole behave this way. What, or who, and why? The reader never finds out. With the Asshole’s motives thus obscured, he becomes flatter than cardboard and about as interesting.
How to fix him:
An Asshole’s flatness does not lie in his rudeness; his flatness lies in the fact that we don’t know why he’s rude. He doesn’t seem to have any clear goal, just a desire to sleep with as many women as he can while making the protagonist’s life a living hell, generally speaking.
Thus, to un-flat-ify him, you need to give him a clear motivation, goal, and character arc. For example, it could be that he idolized and took social cues from his prosperous father—who also happens to have been an Asshole—when he was a child. He’s motivated, then, by the idea that if he acts the way his father acted, he’ll be able to have it all: the dream job, the dream house, the dream girl(s)—his goal is to act like his father in order to obtain the good things his father had.
Part of his arc, if we’re sticking with that scenario, could be that through interacting with another character he realizes that being an Asshole might get him ahead in a cutthroat career. However, it doesn’t help him form lasting and meaningful relationships with those around him, which (if he’s human) he craves.
This is a very surface-level example, but it hits the basics: give him a history, give him a motivation and a goal, and give him an arc. Even if he doesn’t change his behavior, he should at least realize how his actions affect the way others treat him, and why they keep their emotional distance. Making him learn—making him grow—makes him a unique and three-dimensional person again. With a little work and dedication, he will no longer be a flat character.
Does your WIP have a character like one of these men? Have you seen a Buffoon or a Wizard in a work of fiction, or have you read something that dealt with these problematic characters in a graceful and realistic way? How would you go about fixing a flat character? Feel free to share in the comments below—I’d love to hear from you. And, as always, happy writing!
A great example of making the Asshole less flat is what Back to the Future 2 did with Biff. In BttF, Biff is just a quintessential Asshole – flat as a Kansas wheatfield. But in BttF 2, Marty sees where he lives and hears his interactions with his abrasive grandmother. This gives texture and context to his rudeness.
We also get to see a regretful older Biff, still bitter and holding grudges for the events of the first movie, interacting with his younger self as the Father figure he seemingly doesn’t have.
Props to Zemeckis and Gale for invigorating Biff’s character in meaningful ways. It made the sequel that much more of a classic. Still could have done more in my opinion, but it was a good progression from the original.
Great post! Thanks!