On Writing Protagonists: How to Write Great Main Characters

Great protagonists can make or break your story. If you’ve ever read a book with a boring main character, you’ll know what I’m talking about. If you think you haven’t, well—think about a book you’ve read that had a great plot, perfect worldbuilding, stellar prose but it just felt off. As though…something was missing. 

That something was the protagonist. If your book doesn’t have a decent protagonist (at the very least), your story will feel flat. You could have the best, most vivid imagery, the most intricate plotline but if your main character isn’t developed well enough—congrats, you’ve written a very long summary. It’s true. 

In fact, look at A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. A lot of people don’t like it (even though it’s a literary masterpiece) specifically because of this. When people read books, they’re not just looking for a grand adventure, they’re looking for someone they can step into the shoes of and experience it. That’s what creates that cult following that every writer—aspiring and seasoned—secretly wants. 

Books are a combination of good writing, plots, and characters. So, in this blog post, we’re going to look at how to write a protagonist people will root for. 

We’ll explore what the word “protagonist” actually means (and why it matters), the difference between relatable and aspirational characters, how to build motivation that feels real, why flaws are more important than perfection, and how to make your character proactive instead of passive. By the end, you’ll know how to create a protagonist readers will remember long after they close the book.

So, let’s get started.

What Does “Protagonist” Mean?

According to the Cambridge Dictionary, a protagonist is:

one of the main characters in a story or a play.

Pretty straightforward, right? It’s actually pretty fascinating when you look at the etymology of the world.

The True Meaning of “Protagonist”

The word “protagonist” comes from the Greek words: agon means “struggle,” and pro means “for.” Put them together, and you get “for the struggle.”

And that’s basically the foundation of your protagonist. What is their struggle? And what are they doing about it? Your character needs to have a strong, clear idea of where they’re going. If they don’t care what happens to them, why should your readers care?

Plot and Character Operate in Tandem

When characters are fully realized, plot and character work together. You can’t have one without the other. If you have a wonderfully complex character but nothing interesting ever happens to them, there’s no tension. No conflict. No reason for the reader to keep reading your book. 

Characters need opportunities to misbehave, cause trouble, and make mistakes. If you just have a series of random things happening to your character—things they didn’t cause and can’t control—then they have zero agency and are definitely not driving the story. They’re just along for the ride. And if your story doesn’t revolve around the main character then why’re they there?

The plot and everything that leads to the climax and eventual resolution of your story all depends on character choices. So, make sure your protagonist actually makes those choices themselves.

How to Choose Your Character Type: Relatable vs. Aspirational

The very first thing you need to do before you start writing your protagonist is to understand what kind of character you’re writing.

There are two main types of protagonists, and each has distinct qualities that affect how they behave, how readers connect with them, and what kind of story you’re telling.

The Relatable Character

The relatable protagonist is a regular, everyday person who gets caught up in extraordinary circumstances. They’re forced to rise to the occasion and accomplish things they never thought they could. 

Readers love relatable characters because they see themselves reflected in them. When a relatable character pulls off something incredible, the reader thinks, “If they can do that, maybe I can do something special, too.”

Think about Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit. He’s a comfortable, unadventurous hobbit who just wants to be left alone with his tea and books. But when Gandalf drags him into an adventure, he discovers courage he didn’t know he had.

Or Katniss Everdeen at the start of The Hunger Games. She’s not a hero. She’s a girl trying to keep her family alive. But when her sister’s name is called, she volunteers—and that choice launches her into something far bigger than herself.

The goal when writing a relatable character is to showcase their hidden potential for greatness. You’re showing readers that ordinary people can do extraordinary things.

The Aspirational Character

On the opposite end of the spectrum is the aspirational character. Instead of being a regular person, this protagonist is larger-than-life. Almost superhero-like. Readers love aspirational characters because they represent what’s possible—not who the reader is right now, but who they dream of becoming.

Think of characters like James Bond, Sherlock Holmes, Superman, Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice, and Jay Gatsby from The Great Gatsby.

These characters are already incredibly capable. They’re brilliant, confident, skilled, or powerful from the start. So your goal as a writer isn’t to make them rise to the occasion—it’s to reveal their humanity and vulnerability. You need to ground their larger-than-life nature and make them feel real.

Elizabeth Bennet is witty, sharp, and unafraid to speak her mind in a society that expects women to be quiet and agreeable. But her flaw—her tendency to judge too quickly—is what makes her human. When she realizes she misjudged Darcy, that vulnerability makes her compelling.

The “Opposite Is Possible” Theory

To show real growth potential in a character, you have to show the reader that the opposite of their current state is possible. This doesn’t mean making them act out of character. It means weaving the potential for change into the story from page one.

For the relatable character, you show a hint of their latent greatness. Bilbo might be timid, but he’s also clever. Katniss might be reluctant, but she’s fiercely protective.

For the aspirational character, you show a crack in their armor. Elizabeth Bennet is confident, but she’s also stubborn and quick to judge. Sherlock Holmes is brilliant, but he’s also arrogant and struggles to connect with people.

These two character types are actually two ends of the same spectrum. If a relatable character does enough extraordinary things, they eventually become aspirational. And if an aspirational character reveals enough vulnerability, they become relatable.

Figuring out where your protagonist sits on this spectrum gives you a clear roadmap for their emotional journey and the direction of their transformation.

The Different Types of Protagonists

Once you know whether your protagonist is relatable or aspirational, you need to figure out what type of protagonist they are. Now, this might sound redundant. But it’s important to note that the “relatable vs. aspirational character type” tells you where your character sits on the capability spectrum. Are they an ordinary person or larger-than-life? That’s about how readers connect with them.

Protagonist types (hero, anti-hero, tragic hero, etc.) tell you about their moral nature and narrative role. Are they morally upright? Morally gray? Doomed to fall? Reluctant to act?

These two frameworks (sorry, product jargon slipping in) work together. You can have a relatable anti-hero like Walter White. Or an aspirational hero like Superman. Or even a relatable tragic hero like Gatsby.

Understanding both gives you a complete picture of who your protagonist is and how they’ll function in your story. So, let’s look at the different types of protagonists you can craft.

1. The Hero

The classic hero is morally upright, courageous, and driven by a desire to do good. They might struggle, they might make mistakes, but at their core, they want to help others and make the world better.

Examples: Luke Skywalker, Captain America, Frodo Baggins.

The hero is straightforward to write because readers naturally root for someone trying to do the right thing. The challenge is making sure they have real flaws and face genuine moral dilemmas—otherwise they feel flat.

2. The Anti-Hero

The anti-hero lacks traditional heroic qualities. They might be selfish, morally gray, violent, or cynical. But they’re compelling because they’re flawed in ways that feel deeply human.

Examples: Holden Caulfield, Deadpool, Lisbeth Salander.

Anti-heroes work because they do what heroes can’t. They break rules, cross moral lines, and act on impulses we’d never admit to having. They’re fascinating because they’re flawed.

If you’re interested in learning more about anti-heroes, check out my blog post: On Writing Anti-Heroes Readers Love (and Hate).

3. The Tragic Hero

The tragic hero is fundamentally good but has a fatal flaw that leads to their downfall. They’re doomed from the start, and watching them fall is what makes the story compelling.

Examples: Macbeth, Jay Gatsby, Anakin Skywalker.

Tragic heroes follow a negative arc—they start in a relatively good place and descend into darkness or destruction. Their flaw isn’t just a quirk; it’s the thing that destroys them.

4. The Reluctant Hero

The reluctant hero doesn’t want to be a hero. They’re dragged into the story kicking and screaming, but eventually rise to the occasion.

Examples: Bilbo Baggins, Katniss Everdeen, Han Solo.

Reluctant heroes are relatable because they reflect how most of us would react to danger—we’d rather not deal with it. Watching them step up despite their fear is what makes them compelling.

5. The Everyman

The everyman is an ordinary person in an ordinary situation—until something extraordinary happens. 

Examples: Arthur Dent, John McClane, Clarice Starling.

The everyman is the ultimate relatable protagonist. Readers see themselves in this character because there’s nothing inherently special about them—they’re just trying to survive.

6. The Chosen One

The chosen one is destined for greatness. Prophecy, fate, or circumstance marks them as special from the start.

Examples: Paul Atreides, Neo, Buffy Summers.

The chosen one is inherently aspirational. The challenge with writing this type is making sure they earn their destiny through choices and growth, not just because the plot says so.

How to Write A Great Protagonist: A Step-by-Step Guide

After you’ve answered the big questions about your protagonist, you can finally start crafting them. This is where a lot of writers get stuck. You know your character needs to be compelling, but how do you actually make them compelling? What pieces do you need to put together?

The good news is that building a great protagonist follows a clear process. You don’t need to figure it all out at once. You just need to tackle one element at a time. So, let’s look at the six essential steps to creating a protagonist readers will root for. Follow these in order, and you’ll end up with a fully realized character who drives your story forward.

Step 1: Define Their Wants and Needs

Since your protagonist is going to drive the story forward, they need a reason to get behind the wheel. That’s where motivation comes in. And motivation breaks down into two crucial parts: what the character wants and what the character needs.

What Does Your Protagonist Want?

A “want” is a specific, external goal that you set for your protagonist. It can be something tangible—like an object, an outcome, or even a destination—or even intangible. It really depends on your story.

If you’re writing a murder mystery, your protagonist wants to solve the murder. If you’re writing a heist story, they want to pull off the heist, and so on. This one’s completely up to you.

But what you need to understand is that the want is what gives your protagonist agency. Without a clear want, you risk writing a passive character who gets pushed from scene to scene like a disaster movie where people just run away from explosions.

An active protagonist must want specific outcomes and fight for them.

What Does Your Protagonist Need?

The “need” is different. It’s internal. Often, the character doesn’t fully see it yet. To accomplish their external goal (the want), they need to change in a meaningful way. They need to learn something, overcome something, or fix something broken inside them.

A character might desperately want to win a championship, but what they actually need is the internal validation that victory would provide. Or they might want revenge, but what they need is healing.

Let’s look at Jo March from Little Women. Her external want is specific: she wants to become a published, successful author. But her internal need is universal: she needs to feel liberated from the restrictive social conventions of her era—marriage, domesticity, expectations. While not every reader can relate to wanting literary fame, almost everyone can relate to her need for freedom and connection.

Motivation: The “Why” Behind the Goal

If the goal is what the character is trying to achieve, motivation is why they want it so badly. Motivation is internal, layered, and pushes the character to overcome obstacles.

A character’s goal might be to save a princess. But their motivation might be that they want her to fall in love with them because they’ve never experienced love before. Or in a fantasy setting, a character’s goal might be to find a magical artifact that grants immortality. Their motivation could be a paralyzing terror of death because they lost loved ones young and are terrified of aging.

Motivation can get complex fast. At our core, humans want the same four things: food, water, shelter, and love (because we’re social creatures). But these needs get layered with societal pressures, personal trauma, and inner conflicts.

Dive into your character’s moral beliefs. Do they think they’re worthy of achieving their goals? Do they believe they’re capable of doing good, or do they think they’ll only cause harm?

Don’t run from complexity. Complicated, nuanced, even inconsistent motivations make a character compelling and realistic.

Step 2: Give Them Flaws and Weaknesses

A completely perfect protagonist is boring. You don’t want to write a living angel who can do no wrong, and you also don’t want a total disaster who’s completely unlikable. You need to strike a balance between real flaws and redeeming qualities to make your character feel human.

Without a major flaw or weakness, there’s no basis for conflict, stakes, or transformation—and those are the three most essential elements of any story. Real people have deep flaws, so your characters need them too. It doesn’t have to be a massive, morally repulsive flaw. But it has to be something that shatters the illusion of perfection.

Flaws Create Conflict

Think about Superman. He’s about as close to perfect as a character can get. But he has kryptonite, which makes physical threats possible. And because his home planet was destroyed, he’s a man with very little left to lose. That’s where Lois Lane comes in: she provides the emotional stakes for his journey.

Flaws and weaknesses are the root of character change. This means human beings can become better versions of themselves, morally and psychologically, through their struggles.

The Power of Balance

Consider Marlin from Finding Nemo. He’s deeply flawed: cynical, overprotective, and paranoid to a fault. But these flaws are perfectly balanced by his redeeming qualities. He’s determined, brave, and courageous as he crosses the ocean to find his missing son.

His paranoia doesn’t come from nowhere. It stems from profound love. He lost his wife and 399 eggs in a barracuda attack, and he’s terrified of losing the only family he has left. That balance of flaws and redeeming qualities makes him unforgettable.

Admiration Over Likability

Here’s a common misconception: protagonists don’t have to be perfectly “likeable.” Identification with a character doesn’t require you to like them. It requires you to admire or envy some aspect of them.

Even if the protagonist is a repulsive anti-hero, readers can still invest in their story if they possess a redeeming quality that demands admiration.

William Shakespeare was a master at this. We don’t like all his characters, but we admire the brilliant, calculated way they manipulate people around them. We’re impressed by Macbeth’s sheer determination to stay the course even when he knows he’s utterly defeated.

Fiction exists to address a reader’s emotional hunger. We all crave a world we can control, where we can fully control our destinies. Most of us are too afraid to do that in reality, but a fictional character has no such limits. They’re free to gamble with disaster, challenge the impossible, and reach for the unattainable. Readers will happily follow characters who are completely different or even disgusting, as long as they have the courage to gamble with disaster. Goodness doesn’t need to be their redeeming quality, but courage and valor absolutely must be.

Step 3: Build Their Backstory

To make your protagonist feel authentic, you need to know their history. You need to understand exactly how they arrived at the starting point of your novel. Think of a character’s backstory like an iceberg. The tip of the iceberg is what we see in the present narrative, but the massive, hidden structure beneath the water is their past. You can’t show the entire iceberg in the story because it would overshadow the main plot and become disruptive. But you absolutely must surface select elements of it.

If all the reader sees is the character in the present moment, they’ll miss a massive part of what motivates their core values and beliefs.

To learn more about writing backstories, check out my blog post: On Flashbacks & Backstory: How to Write Them Effectively.

Give Your Character a “Ghost”

One of the best ways to use backstory is to give your character a “ghost.” A ghost is an event, a place, or a person from their past that constantly weighs them down and holds them back from reaching their full potential.

It lingers in the back of their mind, usually informing their fears and negative self-beliefs. Sometimes a ghost can even push a character in a surprisingly positive direction through sheer trauma response.

The ghost is directly tied to the theme of your story because shedding this ghost and recovering from the past is usually the ultimate internal goal of the character’s arc.

If you’re interested in learning more about writing trauma, check out my blog post: On Writing Trauma: How to Do Justice to Your Story & Readers.

Family Background Matters

It’s also crucial to explore your character’s family background—or lack thereof. Orphan characters are incredibly common, especially in fantasy. But if a character has no family ties, that absence must realistically impact who they are. Do they suffer from a deep fear of abandonment? Are they fiercely hyper-independent? Are they constantly looking for affection in all the wrong places?

Understanding who raised them, what kind of friends they had, and how their environment shaped their values is essential to developing a well-rounded character.

Give Them Secrets

Another powerful narrative tool is giving your character a secret. This could be directly related to their ghost, a dark moment from their past, or a hidden power they’re terrified to use.

Dropping little hints about this secret throughout the narrative gives a fascinating edge to their behaviors and goals. It keeps the reader intensely curious about what they’re hiding and why.

Step 4: Create Their Unique Voice and Personality

If your protagonist feels like a faceless, blank canvas, your reader will be bored. You need to give them specific personality traits, habits, routines, favorite foods, and hobbies to make them feel complex and genuine.

The more specific and beautifully flawed your protagonist is, the more readers will feel compelled to connect with them.

Uncover the Details Through Character Interviews

A great way to discover these specific behaviors is to conduct a character interview. Imagine sitting across from your protagonist, interviewing them for a feature in a magazine.

You might start with trivial questions like “What’s your favorite meal?” before moving on to harder-hitting questions like “What’s your relationship with your parents like?” or “Do you have any bad habits, like smoking or swearing too much?”

These details accumulate into a vivid, three-dimensional person instead of a cardboard cutout.

Voice in Dialogue and Interiority

This deep individuality translates directly into their character voice. Every single person in the real world has a unique voice, and your character must have one too.

Voice isn’t just about the words they speak out loud in dialogue. It also dictates how they internally process thoughts and feelings. Voice is deeply influenced by a character’s upbringing, religion, culture, gender, worldview, and specific personality.

Some characters stutter. Some use short sentences. Some say “um” frequently. Some speak formally without ever using contractions.

Take Marissa Meyer’s The Lunar Chronicles series. Meyer balances multiple point-of-view protagonists, yet each has a fiercely distinct voice. Linh Cinder is a mechanic, which heavily influences her analytical, clever worldview. Because she’s a cyborg—a class looked down upon in her society—she has low self-esteem and is quite socially awkward.

In stark contrast, Scarlet Benoit is impulsive, emotional, short-tempered, and occasionally reckless. However, she’s also incredibly stubborn, capable, and fiercely protective of her kidnapped grandmother. Their unique voices make them feel completely real.

If you want to learn more about creating unique character voices through dialogue, check out my blog post: On Writing Dialogue: How to Write Better & Believable Lines.

Step 5: Make Them Proactive and Integral

One of the most vital rules of writing an unforgettable protagonist is that they must be proactive. Readers will never connect with a character who acts as a punching bag for the plot, sitting around waiting for something to happen. 

Active protagonists have choice. Someone who constantly runs away from problems, waits for others to save them, or feels eternally sorry for themselves is a passive character, not an active one. If your protagonist is a backseat driver in their own life, their power to affect the story will completely evaporate.

Give Them Strong Goals Immediately

To fix this, you need to give your character strong goals and wants right from the start. Let the reader see them actively chasing something, even if it’s not the main objective of the overarching plot yet.

Active protagonists react to their evolving circumstances. A character who thinks about doing things but never actually does them reads as entirely passive. An active protagonist will either have a thought that directly blossoms into action, or they’ll impulsively jump straight into action.

When writing a main character, it’s always better to have them be impulsive than passive.

The Mulan Example

A brilliant example of a highly proactive protagonist is Mulan from the 1998 Disney film. When Mulan discovers that the Emperor has required one man from every household to fight in the Imperial Army, she doesn’t sit around crying, waiting for her crippled father to go to war and die. She proactively cuts her hair, steals her father’s sword and armor, and takes his place in the army.

Later, when she and her comrades are ambushed in the snow by the Huns, she doesn’t wait to be slaughtered. She thinks fast, grabs a cannon, and sets off a massive avalanche that buries the enemy.

Finally, when she learns the surviving Huns are heading to the Imperial Palace to kill the Emperor, she doesn’t give up when her friends refuse to believe her. She forms her own plan to infiltrate the palace and save the day.

Imagine how incredibly boring that movie would be if Mulan simply reacted to things happening to her without ever taking matters into her own hands.

Avoiding the “Passenger” Trap

Too often, writers strip their protagonists of agency. This happens when readers see things happening to the character rather than the character making things happen.

For example, imagine writing a detective novel where the protagonist has a partner, but the partner is the one doing all the actual investigating, interviewing suspects, and uncovering clues while the protagonist simply hears about it later. The reader will be confused as to why this character is even the protagonist.

Similarly, many writers hamstring their main characters by withholding crucial information from them in a misguided attempt to save a huge twist for later. If you do this, your character is forced to sit on their hands, completely unable to act because they have no information. This spells total disaster for your protagonist.

Empower your hero. Give them enough information early on so they can actually make decisions and act, even if they make mistakes because they’re inexperienced or don’t have the full picture.

And stop giving your protagonist so much help. If they have an older, wiser mentor who constantly explains everything, the protagonist never learns to navigate the world themselves. Let your character step out into the world, make assumptions, and discover things on their own.

Make Them Integral

Furthermore, ensure your protagonist is truly integral to the narrative. They must add to the story, not just serve as a blank lens to see the plot through.

If you could easily swap your main character out for a background character and the story wouldn’t change much, your protagonist isn’t integral enough.

Take Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games. Imagine if her hunting partner, Gale, had been the main character instead. The entire emotional core of the story would collapse. Katniss is the only one worthy of telling her specific story, and it’s abundantly clear to readers why she was chosen as the protagonist.

Step 6: Plan Their Arc

If your character doesn’t grow or change as a result of their journey, your story will feel pointless and stagnant.

The emotional arc is what readers subconsciously expect from a narrative. Without change, there’s no transformation, and without transformation, there’s no emotional payoff. There are three main types of character arcs, and understanding which one you’re writing helps you structure your protagonist’s journey.

The Positive Arc

The character starts off believing a lie about themselves or the world. Over the course of the story, they learn the hard truth they needed to hear, overcome their flaws, and end up in a better place.

For a beautiful example, look at Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice. At the start of the novel, she firmly believes that wealth makes people arrogant and rude, which fuels her disdain for Mr. Darcy. However, as the story progresses and Darcy saves her family from disgrace, she sheds her deep-rooted prejudice. She learns not to form rapid judgments without knowing the full story, and she falls in love in the process.

If Elizabeth had not gone through that profound change, the story wouldn’t be half as compelling.

The Negative Arc

The character starts off in a relatively good place but descends into darkness, ending up corrupted or destroyed by their flaws by the end of the story. Negative arcs are powerful because they show the cost of not overcoming your weaknesses. They’re tragic, cautionary, and often unforgettable.

If you’re interested in learning more about negative arcs and how characters develop, check out my guide on writing antagonists, check out my blog post: On Writing Villains: How to Write Complex, Compelling Antagonists.

The Flat (or Neutral) Arc

The protagonist remains steadfast and consistent in their beliefs, but they act as a catalyst to positively change the world and the people around them.

A perfect example is Paddington Bear, who remains a sweet-hearted bear while changing everyone he meets for the better. The world shifts around him, but his core values stay the same.

Breaking Change Into Baby Steps

Crafting these arcs can be tricky, so it helps to break the change down into manageable steps. Let’s say you’re writing a positive arc for a deeply selfish character. They shouldn’t magically transform into a saint overnight. 

Step one might involve them learning to care about just one other person—perhaps a romantic partner or an estranged friend. Step two expands that empathy to a larger group, pushing them to perform selfless acts for their immediate community. The final step involves making the ultimate selfless sacrifice for a large group of people.

Because deeply rooted flaws like cowardice or selfishness are incredibly hard to overcome, your character will likely backslide a few times when faced with tough obstacles. This back-and-forth struggle provides realism, flavor, and deep reader engagement.

Test Them Constantly

External forces (the physical obstacles pushing back) and internal forces (the emotional dilemmas) must constantly test your protagonist. Make your protagonist work incredibly hard for their endgame. No one wants to read about a cakewalk.

Give them massive stakes and something massive to lose if they fail. In Return of the Jedi, Luke Skywalker faces the ultimate external threat (Darth Vader) combined with the ultimate internal conflict: he knows Vader is his father and doesn’t believe he can kill him. This emotional friction is what makes the climax of the story so legendary.

The Secret to Unique Characters in a Universal Story

Here’s something a lot of writers struggle with: how do you make a character feel specific and unique while also making sure readers can relate to them?

The answer is simpler than you think. Your characters should be as wildly individual and particular as snowflakes. They need incredibly specific physical quirks, deeply personal vocabularies, and razor-sharp motivations.

But while the characters are narrow and specific, the themes of your story must be as broad and universal as a sweeping snowstorm.

There’s Only One Story

Here’s a secret: there’s actually only one story in existence. That story is simply about what it’s like to live as a human being in this world.

While all people are entirely different, we all share the exact same underlying struggles, joys, pleasures, and obstacles. If your highly unique characters tap into these universally shared human experiences—like sacrificing for the greater good, persevering through defeat, or discovering the true value of love—readers will forge an unbreakable connection with your work.

This is why a character like Katniss Everdeen works. She’s incredibly specific: a girl from District 12, a hunter, fiercely protective of her sister, uncomfortable with attention, skilled with a bow. But her struggle is universal: choosing between survival and doing what’s right.

Put Yourself on the Page

As you draft, don’t let your rigid outlines hold you back. Allow your characters the space to breathe, grow organically, and surprise you. Look for dynamic action sequences or emotional confessions where your character truly gets to shine.

Most importantly, don’t be afraid to inject a piece of yourself into your protagonist.

There’s often a stigma against writing self-inserts, but the truth is, you only know your own perspective. Your unique worldview is exactly what gives your story its distinct flavor. Pouring your own sense of humor, your own deeply held opinions, and your own vulnerabilities into your character generates a level of authenticity that cannot be faked.

When you try to write characters that are completely detached from your own human experience, the voice and the story often fall flat.

Test Your Work with Beta Readers

Finally, once the draft is finished, it’s incredibly difficult to know if your character is coming across the way you intended. This is where beta readers become invaluable.

Don’t just ask for general compliments. Ask them highly targeted questions:

• “How would you describe the main character’s primary motivation?”
• “What are three words you would use to describe their personality?”
• “Were there moments where you felt the character made a choice that made no sense?”

The goal here is to see if readers are picking up on the subtle traits you planted, or perhaps identifying wonderful little nuances you didn’t even realize you had written. You can then take that invaluable feedback and tweak, rewrite, or enhance your protagonist to make them even stronger.

Now Go and Write Your Protagonist

Writing a captivating protagonist isn’t about creating someone perfect. It’s about creating someone real that resonates with readers beyond what you reveal on the page.

Your protagonist doesn’t need to be the smartest, the bravest, or the most capable person in the room. They just need to want something badly enough to fight for it, have flaws that make them struggle, and change in meaningful ways because of what they go through.

When you weave together internal motivations, deep-seated flaws, a proactive spirit, and a uniquely resonant voice, you’ll create a living, breathing person that your readers will cherish.

So start with the struggle. Figure out what your character wants, what they need, and why they can’t have both at the same time. Give them a ghost that haunts them, a flaw that holds them back, and the courage to step up anyway. Make them specific enough to feel real and universal enough to matter.

That’s how you write a protagonist worth remembering.