“Swear to God, Perce, if I remembered, I’d
tell you.” I take another swallow of sherry
straight out of the decanter and set it down
on the sideboard, nearly missing. It lands
a little harder than I meant. “It’s a
burden, you know.”
“What is?”
“Being this good-looking. Not a soul can
keep their hands off me.”
He laughs, closemouthed. “Poor Monty, such
a cross.”
“Cross? What cross?”
“Everyone falls in immediate, passionate
love with you.”
“They can hardly be blamed. I’d fall in
love with me, if I met me.” And then I flash
him a smile that is equal parts rapscallion
and boyish dimples so deep you could pour
tea into them.
Henry “Monty” Montague from Mackenzie
Lee’s The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and
Virtue embodies everything I adore in a character:
he’s highly flawed, funny, and flirtatious,
yet earnest in his love for his best friend
Percy. Characters are the backbone of every
good story, and it’s especially important
to make sure your protagonist is someone worth
following.
In the previous parts of this video series,
we defined the genre, looked at examples of
high-concept premises, and explored what makes
for vivid world-building and a strong narrative
voice. Here, we’ll focus on the remaining
three of the six elements for writing better
YA fantasy, all of which relate to characters:
a driven protagonist, contrasting relationships,
and meaningful friendships.
Number Four: A Driven Protagonist
Readers are naturally attracted to characters
who yearn for something, whether they want
to protect their loved ones, master their
magic, or find answers about their past. They
actively pursue what they want. Passive characters,
on the other hand, let the story carry them
along on its current, which can make them
seem undefined. Since our words and actions
reveal who we are, it’s hard to get a good
sense of someone’s personality when we don’t
see them making choices.
While reading The Cruel Prince by Holly Black,
I admired Jude’s drive to prove her strength.
Being a human in the Faerie realm, she’s
constantly the underdog, in that the fae view
humans as inferior beings. But Jude is resourceful
and persistent. When she loses a fight, the
Faerie prince Cardan bullies her:
“Do you know what a mortal means? It means
born to die. It means deserving of death.
That’s what you are, what defines you—dying.
And yet here you stand, determined to oppose
me even as you rot away from the inside out,
you corrupt, corrosive mortal creature.”
He tells her to get down on her knees and
beg. Jude is too prideful to surrender. Instead,
she shows her resolve to fight:
“I am going to keep on defying you. I am
going to shame you with my defiance. You remind
me that I am a mere mortal and you are a prince
of Faerie. Well, let me remind you that means
you have much to lose and I have nothing.
You may win in the end, you may ensorcell
me and hurt me and humiliate me, but I will
make sure you lose everything I can take from
you on the way down. I promise you this”—I
throw his own words back at him—“this
is the least of what I can do.”
In YA fantasy, you hear a lot about “strong
female characters,” and oftentimes these
are depicted as tomboys who hate dresses and
makeup and would rather stab people with a
sword. Garth Nix’s Sabriel is an example
of a total badass female character who’s
stoic and wise beyond her years: “Death
and what came after death was no great mystery
to Sabriel. She just wished it was.” Other
books in the genre have shown that embracing
traditionally feminine qualities, like loving
to bake or caring about one’s appearance,
doesn’t make a character weak. For example,
in Rebel Belle by Rachel Hawkins, the heroine
of the story is a girly Southern belle who
gains supernatural fighting powers.
A woman doesn’t need to be unemotional and
physically powerful in order to be strong.
Nor does a man. We can admire driven characters
for their intelligence, strength of will,
loyalty, skill, values, or perseverance. Look
at the Harry Potter series, which becomes
more YA than children’s fantasy as it progresses:
Harry is talented at Defense Against the Dark
Arts and Quidditch, but he’s otherwise an
average student and wizard. It’s his friendships
and his values that drive him forward—and
his hero complex can even turn into a fatal
flaw, as it did in The Order of the Phoenix,
when Harry falls into Voldemort’s trap at
the Ministry of Magic by believing the visions
put in his head. His emotions got the better
of him.
More than other genres, YA tends to prefer
driven characters who are likable. Likability
can appear in a number of forms. The lead
characters of An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa
Tahir are likable in their noble intentions:
Laia goes undercover to save her brother;
Elias is a soldier who wants to rebel against
the wrongdoings of the Empire; and Helene
struggles to choose between protecting Elias
and staying loyal to her family.
Even antiheroes can be likable in their drive
to achieve their goals. Xifeng, the protagonist
of Julie C. Dao’s Forest of a Thousand Lanterns,
heads down a path of darkness, becoming more
villainous as the story progresses. It’s
a reimagining of how the evil queen from Snow
White rose to power—yet the reader can empathize
with her desire to be free and make her own
choices.
As in all fiction, YA fantasy stories are
most satisfying when the characters grow and
change. Author March McCarron notes:
“Because the characters are young, they
often have the opportunity to change more
dramatically. You see this with young characters
in adult fiction too, but it’s more of a
necessary ingredient in YA. Take a book like
The Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson
for an example: the transformation of the
protagonist in this story is so significant
that she is hardly recognizable by the end,
and the ability to watch that journey is precisely
what makes the series so successful.”
On the flip side, what makes a character unlikable?
Readers often gripe about certain qualities
when it comes to YA heroes and heroines. Among
them are characters who are…
Mary Sues or Gary Stus. These characters are
completely perfect, with no personality flaws.
They always sacrifice themselves for others
without question and stand up against villains
who are obviously evil. They might also be
overpowered, with rare abilities no one has
wielded in thousands of years, and they easily
destroy their enemies. These traits can result
in a bland and unrealistic character who has
no internal conflict and never fails, making
them unrelatable to the reader. This connects
to the larger problem of the characters being…
Boring. Instead of being a super special Mary
Sue or Gary Stu, the character is a totally
Average Joe. They have no skills, hobbies,
interests, aspirations, opinions, or thoughts
to distinguish them from any other person.
All their emotions are predictable, generic
responses. They cry at all the sad parts,
gasp at all the surprising ones. They show
none of the complex emotions that are part
of the human experience.
Both perfection and averageness make for flat
characters. We want to create personalities
that readers can root for and relate to, but
that means digging deep and showing that people
are complicated, messy, unique. Add more realism
by being specific about what makes your character
tick. What are they opinionated about? What
makes them mad? What makes them act like a
fangirl? We’re drawn toward people who feel
strongly for or against something. Maybe they
start cooing every time they see a dog, or
they can’t help but start a fight whenever
someone insults their religion. Find what
motivates them and what other people tend
to criticize them for.
Worse than a boring character is one who’s…
Stupid. There’s a fine line between a character
making silly mistakes and taking risks. Imagine
a main character with no fighting skills heading
into a battle completely unprepared just because
he wants to play hero. And then he inevitably
gets captured by the enemy and his more powerful
friends have to rescue him. That’s frustrating.
However, if the character had some type of
weapon and thought he had a pretty good chance
of winning, the reader can understand him
taking that risk. The choice needs to have
logical motivations behind it and not just
exist to create narrative conflict. If a character
is stupid, they might also be…
Annoying or Whiny. Make sure your protagonist
isn’t worrying or complaining about the
same thing over and over, for chapters on
end. Crying every other page also gets old.
These are normal human emotions, and the problem
is more one of repetition. Characters can
get annoyed or whine, but they shouldn’t
do so for hundreds of pages because readers
crave variety. Complaining also might make
these characters seem…
Judgmental. If the heroine sneers at every
other female character or a hero believes
they’re smarter and more talented than everyone
else, many readers will instantly dislike
them. They won’t want to cheer on a Negative
Nancy who talks crap about everyone. That
being said, a judgmental protagonist can work
if it’s framed as a character flaw and they
change by the end.
The plot will carry itself if the protagonist
is driven to achieve a specific goal—to
save their sibling, get revenge, steal an
artifact that once belonged to their family.
They will have to make tough choices and mistakes
during that journey. And if they’re likable
in any way, the reader will care about what
happens to them. And if they’re interesting,
with personalities unique to them, the reader
will be curious to see their reactions to
conflict.
You can use a similar process to design a
driven antagonist or villain. After all, everyone
is the hero of their own story, and no one
likes to read about enemies who are easily
outsmarted or as bland as oatmeal. However,
unlike YA fantasy protagonists, villains are
allowed to have strongly negative traits:
they can be stupid and powerful, or they can
be judgmental and annoying. Really, the antagonist
is just a corrupted protagonist in that they
lack empathy in one form or another. They
often seek power over others instead of for
others. They are driven to pursue their goals,
but they don’t care about hurting innocent
people to get there. In one way or another,
they are formidable foes with their own relatable
qualities and motivations.
Because of their intense friction with the
protagonist, antagonists can even end up as
love interests, which brings us to…
Number Five: Contrasting Relationships
Picture a bubbly working-class girl who loves
taking in stray animals and a pessimistic
rich guy who despises cats. On their first
date, she offers to make dinner—and her
apartment is full of cats. A conversation
between them is going to be entertaining precisely
because they have such contrasting attitudes
and backgrounds. People are drawn to potential
drama, and if two individuals have vastly
different personalities or goals, that’s
a natural source of conflict. It’s like
the clean freak rooming with the lazy slob—that’s
the stuff sitcoms are made of. In literary
lingo, these types of opposites are often
called foil characters.
YA fantasy often spotlights these types of
contrasting relationships, with two characters
standing on opposite ends of a spectrum. One
might be rich, the other poor. Where one is
optimistic, the other is pessimistic. That
contrast can come from external forces, like
differences in race or class, or internal
ones, like having different opinions about
war, or a combination of both. I’m not talking
about the hero vs. villain here, but rather
love interests, frenemies, mentors, and family
members—the people who are most significant
in the protagonist’s life.
Let’s focus on contrasting relationships
in terms of romantic pairings first. Those
are the most common type in the genre, likely
because first love is a big milestone for
teenagers.
When two people are at odds, it creates friction
and strong emotions. We know the characters
will clash, but the outcome is unpredictable.
It’s not so much about “opposites attract”
as it is mystery. On the subject of attraction,
author and therapist Esther Perel has said,
“Love enjoys knowing everything about you;
desire needs mystery. Love likes to shrink
the distance that exists between me and you,
while desire is energized by it.” So that
distance between two people is what creates
chemistry, and that elusive spark can be difficult
to depict on the page. But there are a few
familiar contrasts you can use in creating
a couple with strong chemistry.
You might rely on the old trope of enemies-to-lovers.
The main characters in The Cruel Prince by
Holly Black have some serious belligerent
sexual tension going on. The saying goes that
there’s a fine line between love and hate,
and these two characters embody that idea.
Their chemistry comes from the intensity of
their shared hatred intertwined with their
attraction toward each other.
But contrast doesn’t necessarily entail
the characters disliking each other. Rather,
they might just come from vastly different
worlds. Many YA fantasy novels have humans
paired with supernatural beings. Beautiful
Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl
has an ordinary guy falling for a girl from
the cursed Caster family. Conflict arises
from the dangers of the two meeting and the
secrets they keep from each other.
Other types of star-crossed lovers, à la
Romeo and Juliet, might be on opposite sides
of a larger conflict. They’re forced to
choose between their lover and their loyalty
to their family or homeland. The starring
couple in the Daughter of Smoke & Bone trilogy
are on opposite sides of a war, and the hero
has committed atrocities against her people,
so their romance connects to the story’s
larger themes about war and forgiveness.
Class differences also provide natural contrast,
as seen in every prince and the pauper tale.
In An Ember in the Ashes, Laia is a lowly
Scholar while her love interest Elias is a
member of the Martials, the elite military
class. Societal norms make them an unlikely
couple.
In The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue,
the main couple differs in terms of class
and race, but it’s their personality differences
that make their conversations pop off the
page. Monty is a white, wealthy lothario,
whereas Percy is a biracial, middle-class
“cinnamon roll,” someone who is too good
for this world. Monty’s innuendos and reckless
behavior contrast with Percy’s more reserved
and responsible nature, creating plenty of
opportunities for witty banter.
The couple could also have ideological differences.
Shadow & Bone by Leigh Bardugo pairs a noble
heroine with a villain who’s drawn to her
power and potential. This is in contrast to
her childhood best friend, who seems to represent
the side of moral good—and she must choose
between the dark and the light, as represented
by her two love interests.
Of course, love triangles are considered overdone
nowadays. Most readers absolutely hate them
because they feel like forced conflict and
the romance tends to overtake the plot. They’re
best avoided unless you can seriously subvert
the trope and tie it into the larger conflict
or character goals.
Insta-love, or love at first sight, also sends
readers into a spite-filled rant, so it’s
best to let romances develop more organically.
Instant attraction definitely exists, as you
can dance with a mysterious stranger at a
masked ball and feel sparks as your hands
touch. But the all-consuming, this-is-the-greatest-love-in-the-universe
soulmate bond shouldn’t happen instantly.
It’s certainly possible to fall in love
with someone over the course of a few hours
or days, but if the couple is constantly fawning
over each other’s perfection, it becomes
unbelievable for a lot of readers. There seems
to be a growing demand for friends-to-lovers
and slow-burn romances.
Let the characters bond over deep conversations
and shared experiences before labeling their
feelings as true love. Show that this is true
love within those scenes instead of telling
us in the characters’ thoughts.
So, the foundation of a good romance combines
different facets, and that might include characters
who have…
Fun flirting. Especially in dialogue. Whether
their relationship is steamy and sexy, or
sweet and romantic, they should genuinely
enjoy each other’s company, even if they
don’t admit it at first. Talking to the
other person should light their fire, sparking
witty banter or silly inside jokes or intense
debates that get a little too physically close.
A key part of character chemistry is the build-up,
that subtext of attraction, the moment right
before the kiss. There’s a certain intimacy
in knowing someone well enough to tease them
in a friendly way or push their buttons.
Good romance also features couples who have…
Mutual respect. They admire something about
the other person. While not a healthy relationship,
in The Cruel Prince, Cardan finds Jude’s
persistence both annoying and admirable.
And this sense of respect ties into…
Attraction based on shared values, not just
physical hotness. Girls of Paper and Fire
by Natasha Ngan features a slow-burn romance,
where two female characters are drawn to each
other, even though they’re meant to become
consorts of the King. Both of them value giving
each other a sense of freedom and strength
that others have tried to quash down. The
narrator says, “Instead of disappearing,
she makes me feel reappeared. Reimagined.
Her touch shapes me, draws out the boldness
that had been hiding in my core.”
But just because they agree on important things
doesn’t mean they don’t have…
Flaws in their relationship. It’s not realistic
to have characters who are perfect for each
other in every way. In real life, partners
disagree about one thing or another. They
acknowledge the others’ flaws and their
own, recognizing those flaws as something
they’ll need to work through. That might
involve jealousy or disagreement over the
best course of action. They both have things
to learn from each other to help them grow
as people. These flaws might even end up tearing
them apart in the end.
Above all, each character should have…
Identities independent of the other person.
This is part of the reason readers get frustrated
with romance in YA fantasy—because it tends
to overshadow the main plot so much that the
characters’ only concern is being with this
other person. They lose their individuality
in that quest for coupledom. As writers, we
have to be careful about writing fiction for
young adults that sends the message that we
need another person to complete ourselves
in order to be happy and fulfilled. Kristin
Cashore’s Graceling works against that message
by providing a happy couple where both characters
maintain their independence:
She could never be his wife. She could not
steal herself back from Randa only to give
herself away again—belong to another person,
be answerable to another person, build her
very being around another person. No matter
how she loved him.
Katsa sat in the darkness of the Sunderan
forest and understood three truths. She loved
Po. She wanted Po. And she could never be
anyone’s but her own.
And then there’s this exchange between Katsa
and Po:
“He thinks it's dangerous for us to leave
each other so much freedom and make these
vague plans to travel together in the future,
doing Council work, with no promises. I told
him I'm not going to marry you and hang on
to you like a barnacle, just to keep you to
myself and stop you loving anyone else.”
“It's all right, you know. Other people
don't have to understand.”
Romance is an important part of life for many
people, but it’s not the only part of life.
Moreover, a YA fantasy novel does NOT need
to have a romance. It’s a common feature
that many readers enjoy—and it’s part
of what makes YA fantasy so popular, especially
with female readers who crave those close
character relationships. But romance is not
necessary to tell a good story. In fact, a
lot of readers on blogs and forums have expressed
a strong desire for YA fantasy novels without
romance, since they’re hard to find.
So don’t shoehorn in a romantic relationship
just because you think it will appeal to readers;
you have to be genuinely invested in the romance
for them to have chemistry. Romances that
feel like afterthoughts actually harm the
readers’ experience of the book by watering
down the authenticity of the story’s emotions.
There’s plenty of room in the genre to have
characters in established relationships, or
who are single and happy that way, or who
are asexual or aromantic, or who simply want
to focus on themselves and improving their
world. And men and women can be just friends,
as demonstrated in This Savage Song, where
the two point-of-view characters, August and
Kate, become allies, despite August being
a monster and Kate a monster hunter.
Instead of a romance, the contrast might come
in the form of a friend, sibling, parent,
or mentor. It’s simply someone the protagonist
has a complicated relationship with due to
conflicting love-hate feelings or standing
on different sides of an issue. As a book
without romance, We Rule the Night by Claire
Eliza Bartlett focuses on two female fighter
pilots who start as enemies but slowly become
friends. The characters share a lot of chemistry
that borders on romantic but remains platonic.
A family-oriented example comes from And I
Darken by Kiersten White, which gives the
perspectives of a sister and brother with
opposing personalities. The sister is brutal
and ugly, while the brother is sensitive and
beautiful. The narrator states, “If Lada
was the spiky green weed that sprouted in
the midst of a drought-cracked riverbed, Radu
was the delicate, sweet rose that wilted in
anything less than the perfect conditions.”
This results in clashes in ideology between
them. Despite how harsh Lada can be, there’s
an undercurrent of protectiveness. This scene
captures their contrasting relationship:
Radu went perfectly still, head down. Lada
did not have to see his expression to know
how he looked. Terrified. “He will be angry.
And Mircea will kill me. I am scared to die.”
“Everyone dies sometime. And I will not
let Mircea kill you. If anyone is going to
kill you, it will be me. Understand?”
Radu nodded, snuggling into her shoulder.
“Will you protect me?”
“Until the day I kill you.” She jabbed
a finger into his side, where he was most
ticklish, and he squealed with pained laughter.
The look he gave her was one she recognized—the
same hungry, desperate look she used to give
their father. Radu loved her, and he wanted
her to feel the same for him. For the first
time since he had been introduced into her
life, placid and beautiful and worthless,
she found Radu interesting. Perhaps even useful.
And more than that, in Bogdan’s absence,
she felt like someone belonged to her again.
Make sure you have at least one important
character the protagonist has mixed feelings
about and have their relationship affect the
plot.
Number Six: Meaningful Friendships
The supporting cast is oftentimes more interesting
than the protagonist. Because they’re on
the sidelines, secondary characters have more
freedom in terms of flaws and personalities.
The main character’s friends in particular
can help readers feel more emotionally invested
in the story. These are people the protagonist
can talk, argue, laugh, or cry with.
When creating meaningful friendships, you’ll
first need to decide how the protagonist and
their friends met: have they been friends
since childhood, or does the hero meet them
along with the reader? Try to have a memorable
character introduction or a scene that solidifies
their friendship.
In the first Harry Potter book, Harry meets
Ron and the Weasleys during an act of kindness—they
help him figure out how to enter Platform
9 ¾. On the train, Harry buys sweets for
Ron:
“Go on, have a pasty," said Harry, who had
never had anything to share before or, indeed,
anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling,
sitting there with Ron, eating their way through
all Harry's pasties, cakes, and candies (the
sandwiches lay forgotten).
Soon after, a wild Hermione appears and uses
a spell to fix Harry’s glasses, showing
off her wits. But the moment that truly secures
the trio’s friendship is when Harry and
Ron go out of their way to rescue Hermione
from a troll:
There are some things you can't share without
ending up liking each other, and knocking
out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of
them.
Those defining moments of shared hardship
cement their friendship and make it feel real
to the reader. This strong bond lasts through
the seven-book series. Even as the difficulties
pile on, Harry’s friends show their loyalty
and willingness to stand by his side. When
Harry decides to leave school in The Deathly
Hallows, he doesn’t want to endanger his
friends by having them come with him, but
Hermione says, “No, Harry, you listen. We're
coming with you. That was decided months ago—years,
really.”
Later on, Harry and Ron have a falling out,
and Ron storms off. But Ron comes back, finding
them using the Deluminator from Dumbledore
that lights the way. Ron sheepishly tells
Harry, “He must’ve known I’d run out
on you.” Harry corrects him: “No, he must’ve
known you’d always want to come back.”
Shared hardship, loyalty, and support are
important components of strong friendships.
Friends can also serve as a sounding board
for ideas rather than the main character being
stuck inside their own heads. Dialogue between
characters is an important way to reveal their
personalities and advance the plot. Here’s
an exchange between Karou, the protagonist
of Laini Taylor’s Dreams of Gods & Monsters,
and her best friend Zuzana:
So instead she said, “Do you think I wouldn’t
rather be with Akiva, too?” and this time
maybe a little bit of her own frustration
sounded in her voice.
“Well, it’s nice to hear you finally admit
it,” said Zuzana. “But a little Machiavellian
maneuvering would not go amiss here.”
“Excuse me? I think I’ve been pretty damn
Machiavellian,” said Karou, as if it were
an insult not to be borne. “There is the
matter of hijacking an entire rebellion.”
“You’re right,” Zuzana allowed. “You
are a conniving, deceitful hussy. I stand
in awe.”
“You’re sitting.”
“I sit in awe.”
These meaningful moments of friendship can
add levity, even when the main plot is filled
with death and despair. Readers appreciate
the ordinary moments of playful banter, a
hallmark of true friendship.
But friendships aren’t always unicorns and
fairy dust—they’re also a great source
of conflict. Even friends disagree on what
should be done and can in fact have goals
that run counter to what the protagonist is
trying to achieve.
In Maggie Stiefvater’s urban fantasy novel
The Raven Boys, a group of teenage boys often
clash, even though they’re friends. Their
personal baggage creates subplots that flesh
out the story world and make the characters
feel real.
Adam has a hard home life; his family is poor
and his father is abusive. Gansey, on the
other hand, comes from wealth and is constantly
trying to convince Adam to move in with him
and the other boys, which leads to heated
arguments like this one:
“What is your problem, Adam? I mean, is
there something about my place that’s too
repugnant for you to imagine living there?
Why is it that everything kind I do is pity
to you? Everything is charity. Well, here
it is: I’m sick of tiptoeing around your
principles.”
“God, I’m sick of your condescension,
Gansey,” Adam said. “Don’t try to make
me feel stupid. Who whips out repugnant? Don’t
pretend you’re not trying to make me feel
stupid.”
“This is the way I talk. I’m sorry your
father never taught you the meaning of repugnant.
He was too busy smashing your head against
the wall of your trailer while you apologized
for being alive.”
Both of them stopped breathing.
Gansey knew he’d gone too far. It was too
far, too late, too much.
Lastly, giving the protagonist close friends
also increases the personal stakes; it gives
them something to lose that’s more important
than their own life.
As you create these secondary characters,
flesh them out as you would if they were the
lead character. What do they want more than
anything? What do they argue about with their
best friend? How are they similar and how
are they different from the protagonist?
It’s not plot or world-building that resonates
most deeply with readers—it’s the characters.
By establishing a bond between your cast of
fictional people and the reader, you will
create a more memorable story.
If you’re writing a YA fantasy novel, try
answering these questions about your characters:
1. How does your protagonist drive the plot
forward?
2. What character contrast creates tension
in the story’s primary relationship—romantic
or otherwise?
3. Who are your protagonist’s friends, and
why will the reader love them?
Although YA fantasy is primarily designed
for entertainment, the books that stick with
us are those that make us feel strong emotions
alongside the characters. Readers want to
be dazzled, to fall in love, to laugh, to
cry, to escape into worlds that are harsh
and beautiful, fantastical and larger than
life, exciting and dangerous—or simply unforgettable.
Who are your favorite characters from YA fantasy?
Introduce them to me in the comments. Whatever
you do, keep writing.
