Tag: unlikable characters

Short story: “Four Walls Around Me to Hold My Life”

“Four Walls Around Me to Hold My Life,” by Lee Clay Johnson

Appeared in Ploughshares Summer 2018, guest-edited by Jill McCorkle

Several thousand words

I started writing this entry after reading the first paragraph. It’s that good. Having read the whole thing, I have to say it lived up to my expectations. You can see all the traps the protagonist is stepping into, and has stepped into, and you understand why he keeps doing it.

I’d like to try imitating this type of voice—the voice of this particular type of male character. If it can be imitated. How much does a good voice come from the depths of an authentic, inimitable character and how much from stylistic tricks?


Short story: “Emperor All”

“Emperor All,” by Evan Marcroft

Read by Kris Straub for PseudoPod 590, April 13th, 2018

4,336 words

A fine dark tale. The main character is unlikable, but you keep listening/reading to find out what happens next.

Short story: “Restroom”

“Restroom,” by Kim Gibson

Appeared in Defenestration, December 20th, 2017

2,746 words

A charming story of unexpected kindness. Tight and fast-paced enough to feel shorter than it is.

I found the narrator enjoyable even though he starts out cynical and hostile towards this perfectly innocent stranger. I’ve been working on a story with a similar character arc, and I’m curious what makes a reader keep reading when the main character at first seems unlikable. In this case, perhaps the humor woven into the character’s cynical commentary.

Short story: “Starter House”

“Starter House,” by Jason Palmer

Appeared in the Drabblecast, episode 362, June 14th, 2015

Maybe 4,000 words?—not sure

A slight story, because the family and their complacence and their cruelty are all so repellent. But fun, because their ending feels so well deserved.

Short story: “Basilisk”

“Basilisk,” by Peter Gillott

Appeared in Dark Tales, issue 5, autumn 2004

2,234 words

A quick, enjoyable tale, though it suffers from the slightness common to short genre stories. The characters are shallow and unlikable, and exist mainly for the fun of seeing them hurt each other. I’m impressed by the swift pacing, though.

Short story: “Unwell”

“Unwell,” by Carolyn Parkhurst

Appeared in the anthology Stories: All-New Tales (2010), edited by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio, which won the Shirley Jackson Award for Best Edited Anthology

Maybe 8,000 words?

Deliciously nasty. This is the best kind of unlikable character—the one who keeps us guessing what awful thing she’s going to do next.

Short story: “Veil of Ignorance”

“Veil of Ignorance,” by David Barr Kirtley

Originally published in The Phobos Science Fiction Anthology Vol. 3: All the Rage This Year (2004), edited by Keith Olexa; appeared in Lightspeed Magazine, February 2015; read aloud for MechMuse Audio Magazine; also available on the author’s site

4454 words

Marvelously clever, and I found the ending very believable. I would not take this drug, but if I did, I would never stop. Being a particular person is hard.

The characters are cardboard-thin stereotypes (Kirtley says in his Lightspeed Author Spotlight that he needed them all to be recognizable types). I couldn’t help wishing they were even vaguely likable or sympathetic, but I see why it would difficult to write them that way without making the piece overlong or confusing. The story is pretty compelling anyway.

Short story: “Debbieland”

“Debbieland,” by Aimee Bender

Appeared in Black Clockissue #1, spring 2004/summer 2004

2,694 words

I was about to say that this is a very sad story, because the narrator will never allow herself to recognize herself and Debbie and her ex-girlfriend for what they are, human beings who need kindness; she will never learn to feel remorse. But then again maybe it’s a horrifying story, because the narrator feels herself to be happiest, rightest, when she is feeding off other people’s pain without any particular regard for the consequences to them. I identify with her very much.

“Perhaps, in a way, if anyone cries on us, we then own them, a piece of them, forever.”

Short story: “Men of Unborrowed Vision”

“Men of Unborrowed Vision,” by Jeremiah Tolbert

Appeared in issue 56 of Lightspeed Magazine, January 2015

7429 words

A troublingly believable tale of the near future.

I felt like Mara’s attitude towards Adam ought to be more strongly tinged with racial awareness, beyond just that aside about “spoiled, rich white boys[.]” But as a white writer, I probably overthink things like that.

I also felt like Adam’s puppyish persistence ought to put Mara off more than it does. Maybe she doesn’t have much experience getting befriended and pestered this way? She’s been immersed in the cause for a long time. Still, she should have more friends.

Mara’s choices at the end seem pretty terrible to me. She refuses to be treated for the disease, even though her getting treated could only benefit her OHL friends. Maybe on some subconscious level she’s trying to push Adam to take action, but that’s a gamble, especially since he’s a passive dork most of the time. Then she immediately posts on the OHL forum, which (let’s face it) is probably being monitored. I’m not saying I would have a better plan, but I wish Mara did, especially since the story ends without revealing the consequences of her actions.

I’m never very satisfied with stories whose structure is so slice-of-life. This piece is like a TV episode; you can tell there’s a lot more to come, so even when it ends on an exciting note, you can feel that it’s incomplete. I do look forward to more glimpses of Mara’s world, though.

On bad criticism

The two January 2014 comments on this post are amazing to me. I want to find their obtuseness gratifying, and I guess some part of me does, but at the same time I’m almost literally clutching my head.

(Dear gods, grant me that I may never be so clueless as a critic—or at least grant me the power to delete embarrassing old blog posts.)

If you read “Bullet in the Brain” while holding the same premise as these two commenters—that the main character is supposed to be admirable, even likable, from the start—then yes, it is a terrible story. In this reading, the author/narrator opens by boasting about how superior Anders is, then shows him being snarky and fearless to the end, and then gives a lengthy eulogy about his dull personal life and his passion (genius?) for language. That’s not even a complete story. There’s no tension, no surprise.

How did these two commenters misread the piece so badly? I suspect they have both read too much bad amateur writing, in workshop groups or on fanfiction sites. Making the main character the hero of the piece is a natural, obvious choice for beginning writers, and making the hero an idealized self-insert is an easy mistake to make. If you spend a lot of time critiquing that kind of stuff, without being aware of more sophisticated and risk-taking writing, then you probably develop a habit of skimming for common mistakes.

One thing I genuinely admire about these commenters is that they make their faulty premise explicit. That’s something that a lot of workshop critiquers forget to do, because they assume they don’t need to. Criticism is only meaningful when it includes an interpretation of the work being criticized: What is this piece about? What is this character portrayal supposed to convey?