Terrible Flaws

 Anytime a book, movie, or TV show receives praise for having “flawed characters”, it makes me wonder what exactly those flaws were. Are all flaws created equal or are some more forgivable than others? Can characters with the least forgivable flaws find redemption by the end of the story or does that come off as forced? Are some character traits considered flaws when they don’t deserve to be? Do villains’ flaws (aside from the obvious) have to be conquered just like the heroes’?

I’m asking all of these questions because I’ve been in this writing game for many years and I still haven’t mastered the art of the flawed character. I’m always afraid of making a character so flawed that they’re no longer likeable in any capacity. Even dumpster fire human beings can be liked by the readers, but how do I achieve this? Well…let’s run these questions through a battery of tests, shall we?

Suppose you have a protagonist (like every story does). He’s got acrobatic fighting skills, he’s got magical powers for days, and he’s perfected the art of the insult. He wears spiked metal armor and carries a sword bigger than his entire body. He’s got long purple hair that has probably been washed with Head & Shoulders more times than he’s been in combat. He’s got striking golden eyes that can weaken the knees of every woman around him. His major flaw? He’s a genocidal lunatic. He doesn’t just go in for the kill. He destroys entire groups of people until they’ve gone virtually extinct. He feels no remorse for his actions and openly mocks any group that he’s wiped off the face of the earth. 

Are you cringing in disgust yet? Why? You like flawed characters! Killing large numbers of people is a HUGE flaw for somebody to have. I certainly hope he can overcome it! Now that I think about it, there is an example of someone like this. His name is Vegeta and he’s from the Dragon Ball franchise. In the beginning of the series, he killed off entire populations from any given planet and sold the planet for a quick buck. Near the end of the series, he’s a loving father and husband, but he’s still salty as fuck. Despite his murderous past, Vegeta is still the most popular character in the series.

Alright, alright, alright, that’s just one example of a successful flawed character, though. Maybe genocide isn’t enough to turn people off (which actually scares me a little bit). Okay, how about this: you’ve got a protagonist (noticing a theme here?). He’s rich beyond his wildest dreams. He’s got more abs than he knows what to do with. His business suits, sports cars, and summer homes all cost him more than the national debt allows. He can sex up any woman from the moment they smell his cologne. 

His major flaw? He’s got a serious case of flatulence that could trigger climate change and successfully take away Greta Thunberg’s future. What? You like flawed characters! His farting gets in the way of his romantic life and political aspirations, so it’s a real flaw! He can easily overcome it by getting a colonoscopy and finding out what the fuck is going on in his ass. But once he finds out what’s actually in there…then the plot thickens quicker than one of his diarrhea dumps. Could you get behind a character like this? Hopefully, not literally since we’ve established that his farts smell like dead skunks and toxic waste.

Okay, maybe bathroom humor isn’t your thing. It certainly isn’t mine. So how about this: you have a protagonist (yet again). He’s a five-star general who commands the respect of everyone he meets, even people outside of his jurisdiction. When he tells you to do pushups, it won’t matter if you just got your COVID vaccine, because you’ll do them anyways. When he tells you to run ten miles without stopping, it won’t matter if you’re bound to a wheelchair, because you’ll find a way. 

His major flaw? His voice is so cartoonishly annoying that subordinates only do what he says so that he’ll shut up and leave them alone. That’s not respect for authority; that’s hatred for irritating people. When the time comes to actually take him seriously, nobody listens to reason, because the general’s voice shatters their eardrums every time. Do you still think all flaws are created equal?

Now I don’t want any of you to think that I’m advocating for Mary-Sues and Gary-Stus. Maybe there was a time in my childhood when beefy barbarians who never lose were appealing to me. Maybe there was a time when undeniably hot chicks won me over just because. But as I got older, the shine wore off in a big fucking hurry. You think Alex De Large from A Clockwork Orange would have become as iconic as he was if he took the role of an axe-wielding ninja-knight who remained undefeated forever? You think Vic Mackey from The Shield would have been convincing as a corrupt LAPD detective if he didn’t occasionally lose from time to time? We don’t want to see our favorites lose, but if they don’t, then the story becomes boring and nobody cares.

But at the same time, we have to come to terms with what flaws we’re willing to forgive and which ones make a character impossible to love. Maybe the flaws we can’t forgive are overcome by the end of the story. Maybe a Klansman who uses the N-word five hundred times in a two-minute conversation can see the light and become so far to the left that he falls off the spectrum completely. Maybe a CEO who makes money off of his impoverished employees can become homeless and experience the plight of his underlings firsthand. So maybe the question isn’t, “Is this flaw bad?” Maybe the question is, “Can this flaw be redeemed?”

By that logic, even Cthulu can be redeemed despite the fact that he’s an intergalactic squid who destroys worlds effortlessly and drives the survivors to infinite madness. Maybe Cthulu has a slight moment of guilt when a feral child tries to reach out to his heart. It’s one thing to drive adults to madness, but feral children never had a chance to even acquire a first language. So Cthulu’s heart is broken beyond repair, but his universe is not, so he creates paradise out of his destruction. Would you still find it in your heart to forgive this flawed character despite what he did to get to this point? Did Hitler need a hug? Does Donald Trump need tender loving care? Does Vladimir Putin need a girlfriend who will cradle his head in her lap and stroke…whatever hair is left on his head?

I guess it all boils down to whether or not you as a reader believe in redemption arcs. I personally can’t get enough of them as long as they’re not rushed and forced. If you don’t want spoilers for A Dog’s Journey, then stop reading and have a nice day. Gloria is a toxic mother who spends her nights partying and drinking rather than taking care of CJ and her dog. So what does Gloria do? She gets sober and reconnects with CJ, giving her letters from her father that later serve as creative fuel for her songs, thus launching a successful music career. That’s one example of a redemption arc I can get behind. Gloria is indeed a flawed character, downright disgusting at times. Neglect and abuse are horrible things to do to a child. And yet, she won me over by the movie’s end. Well done!

Perhaps the lesson I’m trying to teach myself is to not be afraid of the flaws I give my characters. I have enough faith in my writing abilities that the characters can be redeemed by the story’s end. And if I haven’t done that, it’s okay, because that’s why our stories go through multiple drafts worth of edits and rewrites. Unlike a brain surgeon, you don’t have to get it right the first time if you’re writing a story from scratch. Be bold. Be brave. Let your book babies take flight. You can’t cradle them forever and if you do, you’re worse than the mother from Pink Floyd the Wall, a movie with a VERY flawed protagonist, yet one who is easy to root for.

Beach Ball Z

“Ladies and gentiles! The summer season is here and you know what that means: beautiful sunshine, beautiful women, and beautiful ass-beatings! If you’re ready to watch Zoku and Jeeta beat the living hell out of each other, let me hear you scream!” The bombastic announcer got just what he wanted from the crowd at Takanori Beach: loud, energetic, beastly cheers from a pumped up audience.

While Zoku stood in one corner of the ring egging on the crowd with waves of his arms and a shit-eating grin, Jeeta stood in the opposite corner with his arms folded and a gorgon death stare locked on his opponent. I will end you once and for all, Karrottop. Jeeta refused to call Zoku by his government name. It was a matter of pride in the Sojo race, which both Zoku and Jeeta belonged to. That was all they had in common that day, spiky hair and monkey tails be damned.

Jeeta’s jaw tightened in annoyance not only with Zoku’s pandering to the crowd, but also the fact that the announcer in an obnoxious yellow suit refused to shut the hell up as he named off various sponsors for this fight. One of the products was for a pesticide spray that targeted cockroaches, which seemed appropriate considering Jeeta’s thoughts on the announcer. Another product was for Marlboro Cigarettes, though Jeeta considered the announcer’s voice to be more toxic than anything a tobacco company could produce. And the other one was…

“Shut the fuck up and get on with it!” shouted Jeeta, firing a laser beam from his fingertip at the microphone and shattering it into pieces. The audience gasped in horror while the announcer nearly wet himself as he wiggled his hand in pain.

Only then did Zoku get serious about this fight. He unleashed a mile long stare straight into Jeeta’s soul, though the latter responded with a sadistic smile rather than quaking in his boots. As soon as the announcer high-tailed it out of there, the two warriors met in the center of the stone ring and continued staring daggers into each other’s eyes. Zoku cracked his neck on both sides while Jeeta popped his knuckles and wrists even louder.

The audience remained stunned in silence after the microphone was destroyed, but instantly picked back up into high gear once the battle music played over the surround-sound speakers: a heavy metal tune called “X” by HELLYEAH.

That was the warriors’ cue to get in their fighting stances and surround themselves in glowing gold aura. Zoku’s spiked purple hair and green martial arts gi flapped and fluttered in the energy-induced wind while Jeeta’s green spiky hair did the same. Jeeta’s purple Sojo armor clung tightly to him as it was his last line of defense against this suddenly serious-looking fighter standing across from him. Now the audience would see who the real badass was.

When HELLYEAH’s lead singer Chad Gray burst into a fit of heavy metal screams, that served as a cue for Zoku and Jeeta to stop powering up and commence the ass-beatings. Before the first punch was thrown, an inflatable beach ball bounced off of Zoku’s face and he was back to his goofy smiling self.

Jeeta on the other hand expressed his rage with an ursine growl and a hard stomp of the beach ball, popping it like he wished he could have popped Zoku’s dome right at that instance. As the audience erupted into boos, Jeeta pointed at them and shouted, “If I see one more fucking beach ball in that crowd, someone’s getting my boot jammed in their fart box!” Instead of being intimidated, the crowd and Zoku laughed their asses off. The audience even chanted “Fart Box!” over and over again.

“Come on, Jeeta, these guys are having a good time. They paid good money for this. They can do whatever they want!” said Zoku, trying to suppress his laughter to make a point.

“If they want to play with their balls so badly, they can do it behind closed doors like every other pervert out there!” belted Jeeta, earning another round of laughter from the immature crowd. “What the hell are you sacks of protoplasm laughing at now?!”

“Dude, we literally go hunting for Dragon Nuts to make a wish. You don’t get to make testicle jokes.” Zoku couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. He even doubled over and slapped his knees for extra effect. As if Jeeta didn’t have enough reasons to tighten his jaw again, more beach balls were being bounced around within the crowd. “Guys, over here!” Sure enough, one of the audience members bounced a beach ball Zoku’s way and he lightly spiked it back at them.

Jeeta held his head in his hands and attempted to squeeze the headache out like a glob of toothpaste. This sacred fighting tournament had been reduced to childish antics and easy distractions. This was supposed to be the culmination of a heated rivalry between two badass warriors. Instead, they were just “having a good time”. One of the beach balls struck Jeeta in the back of the head and his muscles tightened once more.

“That’s it! I’ve had it with you pieces of shit!” The audience and Zoku watched in awe as Jeeta got into his fighting stance again and weaved golden energy around himself, this time his hair changing colors from green to gold and his spikes standing up straighter. He had gone full Super Sojo and could end this fight with a massive energy blast to his naïve opponent. All of this nonsense could be over in a heartbeat. But then another beach ball bounced off of Jeeta’s head.

Rather than choosing to end this fight, Jeeta flew around the arena and punched the shit out of every beach ball in sight, popping them louder than hand grenades. Children cried. The elderly were on the verge of suffering heart attacks. Mothers and fathers hugged each other and their children for fear Jeeta would commit genocide upon the entire human race. Beach balls exploded left and right until the entire arena was void of distractions. Jeeta had the fearful attention of everyone in sight, including Zoku, who quivered in his green karate trousers.

Slowly Jeeta stalked his opponent, his golden energy glowing brighter and brighter with every angry step taken. Jeeta also formed a monstrous grin as he pantomimed a choke hold with his gloved hands. This would have been sweet comeuppance for a decade-long rivalry. The only way this could have been a more satisfying conclusion was if Zoku shit his pants, which unlike some members of the crowd, he didn’t do…yet. And then…

“I’m sorry, Jeeta,” said the announcer through a new microphone. “The rules clearly state that once you’ve exited the ring, the match is over. This isn’t wrestling and you don’t get a ten count. Therefore, the winner of this match as a result of ring-out: Zoku!”

The crowd erupted into cheers while Zoku pranced and leapt in the air like his disqualification victory was the greatest one he racked up. Jeeta’s jaw went from tensing up to being on the floor. His eyes widened at his own stupidity. All it took for him to lose this match was being distracted by a few beach balls.

As Zoku was being presented with a bronze trophy by some bikini clad ladies, Jeeta once again held everyone’s fearful attention by shouting, “This is bullshit!” He breathed in a raspy voice while tense silence hung over the sandy arena. “This whole thing was a sham from the beginning!” Pointing an accusatory finger at Zoku, Jeeta said, “You put those beach balls there on purpose just so you can get an easy victory! How much did you pay those jackasses, anyways? A hundred? A thousand? A hundred thousand?”

Zoku chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his head. “More like five hundred thousand.” Jeeta’s jaw was on the floor once again. “Yeah, I kind of had to teach you a lesson there, buddy.”

“A lesson?! There’s not a scratch on me! You didn’t do anything! You just sat there and played with your ball…I mean…you just fooled around throughout the whole match!”

“Exactly! And you took the bait, Jeeta,” said Zoku more confidently with his arms folded. “Whenever we go hunting for Dragon Nuts together, you’re always getting distracted by our opponents taunting you. You don’t know how to control your temper, so it costs us every time. We could have wished for anything we wanted if we had those Dragon Nuts. But somebody else took them away because you were too busy choking on your pride. What would you have wished for anyways? Immortality? A higher power level? A cure for your wife’s cancer?”

The crowd gasped while Jeeta’s golden energy dissipated and his head hung low. Even his spiky hair stopped flapping and returned to its normal green color.

“That’s right, Jeeta, you should be ashamed! You let everyone down at your own expense! It’s sad I had to go through all of this just to teach you that. I would rather you learn this on your own, but you’re too thick-headed!”

The crowd chanted Zoku’s name while the lonely Jeeta let out a sigh, his pride and his ego deflated by words that have never been truer. He had to learn his lesson. He had to turn a new leaf. He couldn’t let it go any longer. But no…He powered up yet again and sent the crowd into a terrified hissyfit. “I’m going to kill you anyways, Karrottop!”

That didn’t happen. A beach ball bounced off of Jeeta’s head and he turned around to pop it. But the minute he bent over, Zoku rushed up and kicked him in the ass, sending him flying through the air. Zoku teleported and double axe handled Jeeta in the back, kneed him in the stomach, and punched the shit out of him until Jeeta’s body launched into the sand like a lawn dart, his legs sticking out and kicking frantically.

“Get me out of here!” shouted Jeeta with a mouthful of sand.

“Sorry, Jeeta…I can’t help you anymore. You couldn’t even help yourself. You fell for the same trick over and over again and didn’t learn anything. Now I’m fucking the porn stars and you’re getting the crabs!”

The audience laughed as crabs came up to Jeeta and pinched his legs, causing the prideful Sojo to scream and yelp more painfully than when Zoku was pounding him. The only reason the crabs left Jeeta alone was because the tide came pouring in, adding some gurgles and bubbles to his already muffled dialogue. Jeeta did manage to get one piece of coherent dialogue out before he was declared the ultimate loser: “I FUCKING HATE BEACH BALLS!”