Just as “villain” and “antagonist” are frequently used as synonyms, “hero” and “protagonist” are also confused a lot. But there is an added factor for some people, namely, where “main character” and “viewpoint character” fit. So first, some definitions and examples.
“Main character” is a somewhat broader category than “protagonist.” Main characters have a big role in the story, and usually spend a lot of time on-stage. You can talk about “the main characters of the story,” meaning all of the major characters, or you can talk about “THE main character of the story” (emphasis mine), meaning the single protagonist. As far as I can see, this is the primary difference between “protagonist” and “main character”— that you can say “the main characters are Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and James Moriarity,” but it doesn’t make sense to say “the protagonists are Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and James Moriarity.”
The protagonist of a story is the character at the center—the one without whom the plot doesn’t move forward. Sometimes, this is because the protagonist is driving the plot (they have a goal and their repeated attempts to reach it keep things moving). It is, however, also possible to have a deeply reluctant protagonist who is struggling to get out of the plot (I’m looking at you, Ivan Vorpatril).
Protagonists don’t have to be fundamentally good or moral; some are anti-heroes, or outright villains. Heroes, on the other hand, are fundamentally good people who act on their convictions and do great deeds. They’re the ones who run into the burning building to save someone (bonus points if they’re rescuing a villain), tackle someone out of the way of the runaway car, blow the whistle on the corporation’s criminal activities, or otherwise take significant personal risks in order to Do The Right Thing. (Note that preaching about it occurs nowhere in this definition, though “writing a non-preachy hero” is something a lot of writers worry about.)
Viewpoint characters are the people through whose eyes the reader sees the story. While they can be heroes, protagonists, villains, or antagonists, they can also be sidekicks, outside observers, minions, or some other normally-minor character. Most omniscient viewpoint doesn’t have an explicitly defined viewpoint character at all (Steven Brust’s Kaavren stories are an obvious exception here). John Watson is the viewpoint character in most of the original Sherlock Holmes stories; Holmes himself I would call a protagonist but not a hero. Moriarity is clearly both an antagonist and a villain. Harry Potter, on the other hand, is the main character, protagonist, hero, and viewpoint character for the entire seven-book series.
The single most common piece of writing advice about writing heroes is “give them flaws,” which then proceeds to recommend various possible “flaws” that writers could incorporate. This has never been an approach that has worked at all well for me; it is far too close to the checklist method of creating characters. It also overlooks one major fact about heroes: nobody is born with a fundamentally good moral code and the inherent ability to always (or at least mostly) act on their convictions.
It is certainly possible to start a story with a protagonist who is already established as a hero. However, the stories I personally find most effective and interesting are about people who become heroes over the course of a novel or a series. These are people who, at the beginning of the story, are protagonists who have been living ordinary lives, and who have to struggle to rise to the challenges they face. Frodo was a perfectly ordinary hobbit who kept putting off leaving his comfy hobbit-hole; it was the journey to Rivendell that started him on the way to becoming a hero.
The second problem I have with the checklist of “hero flaws” is that a lot of them aren’t what I would consider a flaw in someone’s character. All the really negative character traits—dishonesty, selfishness, envy, cruelty, ruthlessness, arrogance, lack of empathy, greed, pride, anger—show up only in lists of “villain flaws.” The hero lists include things like insecurity, impatience, naivety, impulsiveness, stubbornness, or laziness; at worst, they include “flaws” such as clumsiness or wearing glasses. Compared to the lists of heroic character traits—courage, integrity, conviction, selflessness, compassion, humility, empathy, etc.—the flaws just don’t seem nearly as important.
Mind you, a character’s personal struggle with something like laziness, insecurity, etc. can make for an interesting story. But as a character arc for a courageous, selfless, compassionate hero, they’re too minor (especially when compared to the struggle to save the kingdom/planet/universe) to hold up well as important flaws. Making them plot-relevant by having the flaw contribute to the hero’s actions often ends up making the “character flaw” look like the writer’s attempt to justify a convenient plot twist, rather than like the writer showing the down side of an inherent flaw in the hero’s character.
And the third problem I have with a lot of the hero advice is that it almost universally assumes that the hero, in his capacity as “hero,” is going to be the protagonist/main character of the story. Nobody talks about the secondary character who isn’t the center of the story, but who heroically saves the sidekick’s life. OK, this kind of character can take over the story if one isn’t careful…but they can also become a role model or mentor for a protagonist who is in the process of becoming a hero.
Each of these character types is good for some stories, but not for others. A plot-heavy action-adventure series may be a good fit for the protagonist/viewpoint character who is already a full-fledged hero. A story with an annoying, unlikeable protagonist may be better told from someone else’s point of view (either a character who admires the protagonist in spite of their negative character traits, or a character who finds the protagonist just as annoying as the reader while still acknowledging the value of their skills and strengths). A story that focuses on character growth and/or an emotional plot may be best with a complex protagonist/viewpoint character, an anti-hero protagonist, or a hero-in-training protagonist. In other words, as usual, there is no one true way.




It’s purely personal taste, but I do prefer my protagonists to have agency, and be active in their own lives and stories. I’ve read a few novels where the hero is hapless, and has things happen to them, and I just don’t care for them.
I’ve had some times in my life when I was relatively helpless, and hated it. But my life isn’t anyone else’s, and in the end it’s all a matter of taste.
The protagonist of my WIS gets captured by aliens, and reflects on the possibility of heroically trying to escape, preferring probable death to enslavement.
“She found that she did not believe in that movie.”
So she makes the unheroic decision to keep on living, betraying her independent self and probably her species. It may well already have been too late, but she could have tried. So she is, I guess, a protagonist but not a hero.
Regarding “a story with an annoying, unlikeable protagonist”, do you have any advice on how to write one who is the viewpoint character? I have such a story that works well enough—the character is wholly self-serving and becomes increasingly delusional—but I have to wonder why anyone would want to read about such a jerk.
Not sure how much this would help, but I’ll suggest writing in third-person rather than first-person. It seems to me that a first-person POV amplifies how annoying and unlikable the character comes off.
Doyle did write at least one Sherlock Holmes story with Holmes as the first-person narrator – and in it he had Homes complain about his narration making it a worse story than the ones written with Watson as the narrator.
Apologies in advance for the wall of text. I was actually thinking about and researching this a few weeks ago after reading Going Postal. (A bunch, but not all of, my ideas on this are informed by the Mythcreants blog.) So some methods that seem to help include:
1) Reduce the jerk factor
– make negative traits more specific and circumstantial
– mitigate damage they do to other characters or make victims less sympathetic (via power dynamics, character personality, or just not going into detail about it)
– have them learn and grow in story (apologizing to others can work well)
2) Give readers reasons to like them despite it
– give sympathetic backstory explaining how they got this way
– show character reasons/justifications for their poor behavior (works sometimes)
– give characters admirable traits/actions in addition to negative ones
– give characters people they care about (somewhat related to above point)
– make aspects of the character more relatable to intended audience (can be small lifestyle things)
– make them novel or fascinating to read about
– have them be proactive and moving the plot along (aka agency)
– make it humorous (if done with care)
3) Push back (gives readers an outlet so they’re less frustrated)
– have consequences for bad behavior
– have other characters dislike them for negative traits/actions
Obviously, you likely don’t need all of these and several probably won’t work for your story. But hopefully the list will give you ideas!
One reason I dislike the “give them flaws” advice is that I’m good with superior, larger-than-life heroes and am impatient with writers who seem allergic to Mary-Sueism to the point of purging any whiff or trace of that dread error.
Personally, I would have preferred it if Miles Vorkosigan hadn’t been given new physical limitations to replace his old ones; I’d have liked to see some Miles Unleashed stories rather than more stories about him succeeding despite his handicaps. But that’s just my personal preference.
What crosses the line into undesirable Mary-Sueism for me is when a character is better than everyone else at everything else: Stronger than the Strong Guy, smarter than the Smart Guy, a better pilot than the Pilot Guy, etc. etc. But it is OK with me for the hero to be an ace who is very good at lots of things, as long as he isn’t the best at everything; as long as there are various other characters, preferably allies rather than enemies, who are better than him at their own specialties.
Really good breakdown. I sometimes like when authors show the negative side of a hero’s positive traits, too (i.e. a courageous but reckless, selfless but suffering burnout)