Fallin' for the Hero

 I'll be honest and admit I'm on an anti-romance kick at the moment. Not that I dislike romance as a genre, I LOVE the genre. It's just not for me at the moment. So when we speak in terms of book boyfriends, I have a reflexive ick response. Don't worry. It's just a phase. It happens from time to time. I still read romance. I still write romance - though I'm not, right now. I'm just not in the emotional headspace (or maybe heartspace) for romance right now. That doesn't mean I don't have a favorite hero, though. I do.

The award for my favorite hero that I did not write goes to: 

Murderbot. 

Hush. No one said my fav had to be entirely or even remotely human. Gotta like me a hero of few words who's logical, effective, and efficient while suffering a long-term, major existential crisis. How can you not love someone who says: 

"Yes, talk to Murderbot about its feelings. The idea was so painful I dropped to 97 percent efficiency."

Murderbot is my people. Even if I'm lacking the weaponry. And computer interfaces. And armor. 

Now. If we want to talk about favorite TV heroes, come chat with me about gay pirates.

How to Not Write a Jerk

Fiction isn’t reality. Most of us are clear on that. When we look at romance novels or any story with a romantic element, we aren’t dealing with any kind of reality. We’re dealing with fantasy. The kind seen in ancient mythology where the gods descend as golden motes in a ray of light. Romantic fiction engages the older brain wiring, the part that needs to be romanced and adored by someone or something more than human. I suspect that’s part of the appeal of the so-called ‘alpha hero’. No shade. They just aren’t my cup of tea unless they’re either getting taken down a few pegs or shanked by the heroine. The problem, in my mind, is that alpha heroes go too far and cross the line into abuse. The trope, as a whole, hasn’t aged well as social media has peeled back the curtains on women’s experiences with men in real life. Our line for what’s acceptable behavior from potential partners has shifted. Our male protagonists need to shift, too. I have an internal list for how to walk the fine line between a capable, confident leader and a spacious-walk-in ash-hole.

1.       Biology – Recognize that the biological concept of an ‘alpha’ is deeply flawed. The initial notion came from a wildlife biologist observing the behavior of wolves in captivity – not in the wild. The concept of alpha came from disordered behaviors brought on by unimaginable, unremitting stress. We could call it toxic, even. It’s also at odds with how wolves behave in their natural habitat. Recognize also, that it isn’t a gendered behavior. Any gender can act as an alpha, whether the disordered version or the soft, gentle, collaborative version.

a.       Opportunities: You can leverage this dichotomy in a protagonist, turning them into alphaholes in a moment of extreme stress. BUT if you don’t want a complete jerk in your book, that shift into ‘I’m the boss of you’ behavior must make the stress/danger worse. Assuming it’s our hero slipping into toxic masculinity in an ‘oh shit’ moment, any self-respecting heroine must push back and call him out. Or simply walk away.

b.       Position: Alpha can be useful. It can be worthwhile using disordered alpha behaviors to show up a protagonist’s flaws and to give the other protagonist a chance to draw a line in a relationship. Lots to explore. It’s okay to be an alphahole *for a little while* and so long as that alphahole gets schooled and subsequently changes.

2.       Psychology – understand that in humans, hard shell alpha behavior from any gender (and no gender) is a mask. It might sound trite, but that mask is a cover for trauma. Disordered alpha behavior stems from an attempt to control one’s environment to the point of needing to control others which stems from soul deep distress. Again, it sounds trite, but if you pry beneath the dominating behaviors, you’ll find terrible wounds. The person with these wounds is rarely consciously aware of them. The alpha mask is a coping mechanism meant to armor the person both against the wound and against anyone else perceiving the wound. Because this mask was likely put on early in life, it feels integral to the person’s being, but it’s a desperate attempt at protecting oneself that, when taken to extremes, does untold damage to self and to others.

a.       Opportunities: If your hero is a dominating alpha, you can let your heroine and your antagonist glimpse the wounds beneath the mask. The antagonist will use the wound against your hero to destroy him. The heroine can work on bringing the wound to light so it can scab over. It might not entirely heal, right? Wounds leave scars, but better a scar than a wound seeping poison everywhere (and that a bad guy can leverage to manipulate you.) Look for ways to turn the trope – I love showing up alphaholes as either the cowards they are underneath, or the deeply wounded, flawed people they are underneath.              

b.       Position: nobody gets to be a jerk for long on my watch. I don’t mind using the convention for a little while, but no hero is going to get to be a jerk in a heroine’s presence without having his metaphoric ass handed to him by her. I do love the process of a heroine unmasking a hero and holding out a hand in offering to help heal him. His first step is swallowing the massive stone of ego to get up and meet her halfway.

3.       Character arc: No alphaholes without change. No jerk goes unchallenged. Or unalived. Characters must change. If they refuse to change, they do not survive. It’s the tale of our species. Adapt or die. Somewhere wrapped up in the genome are memories of watching the inflexible die in the far distant past. Stories play on that unspoken, unexamined racial memory. The road to change starts somewhere, though. And I’m willing to bet that our distant ancestors adapted because of love – love of children, love of partner, community, life, learning, curiosity – whatever it was. The drive to survive and adapt comes from having a why.

a.       Opportunities: Soft spots. Weaknesses. Alpha heroes need a soft spot or a weakness for something or someone. They need a line they will not cross (and then, of course, you make them cross it in one minor-ish transgression that brings them up full stop wondering who and what they’ve become.) A current hero I’m working on has a massive, do-anything-including-die-for-her soft spot for a woman who isn’t his heroine. It provides the heroine a chance to get in under his armor and find out he isn’t what he pretends to be.

b.       Position: This is me again, questioning the alpha premise by turning ‘alpha-ness’ into something the heroine wields against the hero and exposes the alpha mask as a weakness. Her promise to him is that by unmasking and integrating his wounds, he’ll be stronger, happier, and freer. And just to subvert the trope even more – you can reverse the whole thing. Heroines can be alphaholes, too, those most readers just say ‘wow, she’s a bitch.’

Whew this got loooong. Sorry. Didn’t realize I had this whole big thing in my head about character power dynamics and personalities.

Three Traits of Jeffe's Kind of Male Protagonist

 I'm teaching a worldbuilding master class in Portland, Oregon on August 4, if you're in the area or want to be! Check out the Willamette Writers Conference here. 

This week at the SFF Seven, we're talking about writing male protagonists and how to avoid creating an "alphahole." For those not in the know, an alphahole is an ostensibly alpha male who is actually an asshole, or is perceived as an asshole by the reader. This is a more complex issue than it seems on the surface. The alpha male hero is a popular trope, particularly in Romance, but in other genres, too. The alpha male is a leader, bold, confident, a protector. In some ways, he is often the idealized male. Some readers don't like this trope or have greater sensitivity to certain aspects of the typical characterizations. 

I tend not to take this too seriously. Personally, I like my alpha male heroes like I like my fiction: no relationship to reality required. 

That said, I don't really write alpha males very often, largely because my books almost always center the female protagonist and her journey to complete the quest, etc. The classic alpha male hero doesn't intersect well with that kind of arc. Though I do love to have two strong, determined leaders butt heads and find common ground in love, learning to lead together. 

Three traits of a guy like that?

1. Enough self-confidence not to be threatened by a competent woman.
2. Secure in his masculinity so he doesn't need to "prove" it to anyone.
3. Integrity and compassion that allow him to adhere to his principles and lead with care for his followers.

The Hero's Three Cs

 This Week's Topic: Writing Better Heroes -- 3 Traits of a Non-Alpha-Hole Hero

Oh, how I loves me a capable, confident, and compassionate hero. 

Wow, that's the shortest post I've written. 

Maybe I should elaborate.

The Capable Hero: This guy (and it's just a guy for the purpose of this post, the hero's gender could be female as easily as it could be fluid) has his own thing. His own specialty. He's earned his bones; he's gone through the wringer, screwed up, and learned from it all to excel. Others consider him an expert in his field (whether he considers himself one is a flexible point). Though, if he's not an expert, then he's got the passion and humility to learn that makes up for his lack of knowledge and experience. Now, this hero isn't an ace in every field because that would make him boring, but what he knows, he knows. 

The Confident Hero: Confident not Arrogant. He shows his ability rather than boasting of it. He knows he's capable but doesn't need the adulation of others. He demonstrates respect for himself and others (albeit only others who haven't given him a reason to lose his respect for them, those guys he quashes beautifully). He's not competing with his partner for one-upsies nor is he attempting to fill in as a father figure. He may exude a dominant aura but he's not domineering. He's as equally content to lend a supporting hand as he is to lead the whole affair. He's good with letting others have the spotlight, but if it shines on him, he handles it gracefully and remembers to share it with those who helped him. 

The Compassionate Hero: More often than not, this guy knows when to step back and when to step up. He's a classic protector stereotype without the narrow mind. He handily checks his ego to let others have their moment just as readily as he cares for the wounded comrade, the lost dog, and the elderly. Most importantly, this hero offers support, both emotional and physical, to his partner when it's obvious they need it and when it doesn't seem like it. He understands the value of respect and how allowing dignity can be priceless.

As you can see, the Three Cs of a great hero borrow attributes from each trait and build on each other.  No Alpha-holes here. 

Ask Not Who the Villain of This Piece Might Be

So many lovely villains to choose from. Scary aliens bent on destroying humanity - never mind that they have good reason. Magical creatures no one quite understands being invited to cohabitate human bodies and minds without any thought of the consequences - though, in that case, who's the real villain? The magical creatures invited in? Or the idiots who do the inviting? Then there's the mythical creature drawn from her native land to the New World as the stories about her spread into territories she'd never dreamed. 

But my very, very favorite villain is whoever my hero happens to be in whatever I'm writing at the time. Yes, most of my heroes and heroines have nemeses to face, but each hero and heroine first has to face themselves. And most of the time, when they do, they see the face of what they hate and fear staring back at them from the bathroom mirror. I made a heroine face down her distrust of others and of herself. I made another face down her envy and sense of inadequacy. Yet another had to overcome prejudice. The hero in the book I'm working on now has to figure out hate. 

I like characters who are their own worst enemies. Initially. I expect them to start catching clues pretty quickly, but not all at once. Change is a process and I want to see it. If I don't, I won't believe that the characters have grown enough to defeat whoever or whatever is their ultimate stumbling block. 

I've got a lot of love for that moment when a character looks at nemesis and sees themselves reflected. That 'oh shit' realization never gets old.

The Alphahole Conundrum

My books! Spotted in the wild at George R.R. Martin's Beastly Books.

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is "Sex on the Beach & Sand in the Wrong Places: What's your favorite bit of pop-culture fiction doesn't work well in reality?"

For the record, I'm going to put out there that you CAN totally have sex on the beach without getting sand in the wrong places. It's not even that difficult. Are these other people rolling around in the sand with sticky parts first?? I can't even.

Anyway...

I don't spend a lot of time thinking about fiction vs. reality. It's pretty clear to me - as I think it is for almost everyone - that stories aren't the same as real life. We want different things from our stories than we do in life. The fact that people even ask about it, like the perennial question about whether readers understand that romance in books isn't the same as in real life, is a head scratcher to me.

Um, yes. We DO understand that fictional romance is different. That's why it's called FICTION.

Every time someone complains about how there should be more awkward, terrible sex in romances I want to ask if they didn't get enough of that in their own lives. Really, that's what you want to read about for entertainment? Okay...

Anyway, one disconnect between fiction and reality is the domineering romance hero. He's broody. He's quick to anger and deliciously sexy when he loses his shit. He's protective, obsessed with the heroine to the point of suffocation. He's powerful, ruthless, and an irresistible force of nature.

We love this guy!

We would never in a million years want one in real life.

The term "alphahole" is often applied to this kind of hero, though I don't much care for it. I think most Romance readers use it for this kind of hero who goes too far into asshole jerk territory. And, pedantic types who seem unable to distinguish fiction from reality, will go on about all the behavioral red flags madly flapping here.

True enough. Like I said, we don't want this guy in real life. It's about the fantasy.

What is it about the fantasy that works here? I dunno. Could be an atavistic thing where that silverback gorilla still wows us and makes us feel safe and fertile. The herd buck is majestic and thrilling, no doubt. Also, I think power is interesting to us, no matter what form it takes.

Really, it's no conundrum at all.

We're All Heroes Here: Guest Post

“Who is the hero of your book?” a prospective buyer asked me at my first real book signing.

I was in a cozy bookshop in the small town of Palmer, Alaska, wearing a warm sweater to protect against the November chill and a big smile as I held up a copy of my first published novel, THE DAY BEFORE. “The hero is Sam Rose, she’s an agent for-“

The buyer shook his head. “Not the heroine. The hero.”

“Protagonist?” I suggested, looking for a polite compromise.

“I don’t really like books with girls. I want to read about heroes.”

Dear Reader, I want to assure you that at this point I stayed professional and did not have to dispose of a corpse on my drive home through the mountains that night. I did recommend a copy of EVEN VILLAINS FALL IN LOVE to him since it is told from the point of view of a male protagonist, but the whole exchange nagged at me. It still does, year and miles removed from Alaska, it bothers me that someone dismissed a truly wonderful protagonist with a sneer and the word Heroine.

English is an odd language.

No, scratch that, English is a demon hobgoblin of a language that likes to ransack other languages and steal words from them. English likes to twist and torment words until they can mean the exact opposite of what they were originally intended to mean, literally!

Hero is sometimes seen as a masculine word only. There are people who want to read it as “the male hero” rather than “the protagonist” and this presents a problem.

It’s exclusionary, forcing the binary idea of male/female and hero/heroine.

It leads to the idea that being a hero means being masculine in a traditionally masculine way.

It leaves me standing there going, “But… I want to be a hero too!”

When we read there’s always some part of us that wants to identify with the protagonist. At some level, we want to see ourself in the story. That’s why we read some books and not others, isn’t it? Because some of them resonate or speak to us while others don’t. It’s why we want diverse fiction.

We want to see ourselves as the hero regardless of which gender we identify with.

This is a big universe, and we’re all heroes in ways big and small. The courage we show when facing challenges, the compassion we have for others, is a result of our choices – not our genders.

Here’s to the heroes!

A few other novels by Liana:

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Liana Brooks is a SF/F and romance authors who loves writing about the little choices we make and big chances we take that change the universe for the better. You can find her online at www.LianaBrooks.com, on Twitter as @LianaBrooks, and read her new stories on Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/LianaBrooks. She is currently working on her romantic space opera series, The Fleet of Malik, that starts with BODIES IN MOTION. The second book, CHANGE OF MOMENTUM, will be available this fall.

Writing MCs of Various Genders

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is: "Heroes and heroines – how do you write them differently."

This is apropos for me, having just returned from the RWA Conference, as the topic of language and how we reference the "hero and heroine" came up. People pointed out that referring to the hero and heroine reflects a cis-het bias. They suggested "main character(s)" (MC) or "protagonists." In Romance stories we could say "love interest(s)" or LI. Even this question implies the binary, that there are heroes and heroines, and that's it.

I'm going to try to make this change.

Otherwise, my answer to the question of how I differentiate when writing various genders is short: I don't.

At least, I really try not to.

Whenever I get asked for advice on writing "strong female characters" - which, I'm not even all that sure what that means, as opposed to writing doormats? - I say to write strong characters, full stop. Gender, etc., should matter FAR less than everything else about a character. When writing females, maybe remember that they have menstrual cycles and have to deal with getting pregnant. Though I'd love to see males written who worry about dealing with getting someone ELSE pregnant.

Otherwise... Yeah. I don't write them differently. Still trying.