Courageous Cowards

I want more cowards in books.

I know that might not make a lot of sense without context, but hear me out, writers. As I’ve mentioned several times in previous blogs and monthly reading wrap-ups, a lot of the books I’ve been reading recently are ones I’m coming back to for the second (or third or fourth or umpteenth time around, in some cases) because I wanted to revisit a lot of the books that made me love stories when I first became an avid reader and eventual writer. But in doing so, there are at least two cases of books I’ve re-read recently that I thought worked well in terms of writing technique and creating satisfying plotlines for readers because they shared a common element.

Enter the cowards.

I don’t know if this is just a character arc that’s really hard to execute writing-wise and that’s why you don’t see it more, but if done right, I think having a major character be a coward is very rich ground for writers to play around with, as well as a way to keep the readers hanging on the edge of their seats. So, let’s break down what kind of elements a cowardly character entails and why they offer such potential to your story.

Let me just start off by saying that I don’t mean to use the word coward in a negative way. By using this terminology, I’m referring to a character who’s driven majorly by fear. Fear is perhaps one of the most compelling human emotions, and therefore is a perfect tool to get a character into a whole heap of trouble. Every character in your book should experience fear of something at some point within the story, but I’m talking about letting this fear dominate them.

A character whose cowardly then, by definition, would be one whose actions are ruled by emotion. Fear makes us make bad decisions, only fueled by the level of desperation and pressure exerted upon a character by the situation and other characters. Even better if, like the two instances I’m about to use as examples, the cowardly characters we’re working with want to remain outside the major dilemma of the book anyway. For example, a “this wasn’t my problem in the first place, and I just want to go about my business” attitude. This sets us up to have a character operating solely out of their own self-interest, fueled by fear and stress, who just wants to be safe, accomplish what they want, and be as normal as possible even if the other characters can’t wrap their heroic little brains around that.

The cowards sound pretty understandable when you start laying their motivations out like that, don’t they?

In case I’m not explaining it well, let’s go to the two examples. WARNING: THERE WILL BE SPOILERS AHEAD.

Okay, so one of the most excellent examples of a cowardly character I’ve read is Dustfinger in Cornelia Funke’s epic trilogy, Inkheart. (If you’re someone who loves books- reading or writing- and you have not read this series, do yourself a favor and go buy it right now. It’s so complex story-wise that I cannot even begin to attempt to explain it, but it is one of the ultimate books for reading nerds.) I decided to re-read this series last year and fell in love with it all over again because I do not think I was old enough to appreciate it enough the first time I read it.

The premise of the Inkheart series is that there are people with special abilities called “Silvertongues” who can pull characters out of their books when they read aloud. The character we’re talking about today, Dustfinger, was one such character who accidentally got read out of his book and spends the entirety of his unplanned journey in the “normal” world trying to find a way home. Pretty understandable, huh?

Dustfinger, who is solely driven by the desire to go home to the correct world and his family, has spent years searching for a copy of his book in order for Mo, the Silvertongue that accidentally read him out, to put him back where he belongs. Here’s the problem: Mo also yanked one of the villains out of Inkheart as well, and he has no intention of going back between the pages and has been destroying copies of the book so Mo can’t send him back.

The situation in the first book really dissolves when Dustfinger ends up betraying Mo and his family to the bad guys for a one-way ticket home. Predictably though, Team Villain has no intention of keeping their word, and Dustfinger, fueled by fear of never getting home and desperation to get there, suddenly finds himself a betrayer of the good guys.

Now, that’s certainly not where the story ends. Dustfinger does work to undo his mistake of trusting the wrong people and, very clearly, won’t be fooled by their false promises again.

Okay, now that we’ve got through that example, let’s talk about Beautiful Creatures (by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl), since that’s what I’m currently reading. If you’re familiar with this series, you probably know exactly where I’m going.

Ridley.

Ridley requires a little bit less backstory than Dustfinger does, but essentially, she’s a Caster (person with magic) who went Dark and therefore had to leave the members of her family that were Light. Ridley is a Siren, which basically means her powers can make you do whatever she wants.

In the first book, Beautiful Creatures, Ridley is pretty much presented in one way. She’s Dark, she’s bad, and when she shows up a whole lot of trouble happens. Which, to be fair, tends to be true. Here’s what’s so interesting though- Ridley, as the story unfolds, begins to be shown as a character operating on her own fear and need for self-preservation. The Light Casters kind of chucked her out with the bad guys, which probably is not a great situation to be in anyway.

Ridley is one of those characters that seems to be in a constant battle with themselves over who they are, which fits perfectly with this series’ running theme of darkness/light and good/bad existing in all of us. In the first book, Ridley tends to do a lot of not great stuff, but she’s being told to do it by bad guys who think of her as expendable. Also, with Ridley, it seems like a lot of how she behaves might be determined by how others think of her. She might act bad because that’s the role others have cast (no pun intended) her in and that’s what she thinks she needs to do.

Unlike Dustfinger though, Ridley is a little less straightforward. Dustfinger makes a big mistake that blows up in his face, but then he seems to have learned his lesson and sticks pretty consistently to the good guy side. Ridley, bless her heart, takes quite a bit longer to figure out where her allegiances lie (well, it’s very clear that they lie with herself, but I mean more in the grand scheme of things).

Ridley does a lot of bad in the first book but proves she can perhaps be swayed to not make the wrong decision, as she does in book 1 when Link talks her down from her part of the Dark Caster’s plan. She takes off, presumably deciding to save her own skin over the plan. Book 2, Beautiful Darkness, also introduces a somewhat shady-looking Ridley in close proximity to Lena, but it’s Ridley who makes two of the most interesting decisions of the book, showing the change that’s taken place in her character. Book 2 Ridley actively finds Ethan, Liv, and Link who have set out to find Lena because she can help and is concerned for Lena’s well-being, which her character pays mighty consequences for since she’s defected to help the Dark Caster’s enemies. Also in this book, Ridley- not Ethan- is shockingly the one that actually talks Lena into claiming herself, no matter what the consequences to the Dark or Light Casters in their family. Ironically, she does this while giving a speech about how she’s not selfless and noble, even though she’s maybe agreeing to forfeit her life, which is mildly hilarious, but still. Now granted, by book 3, Ridley still finds herself making a slew of bad decisions that the heroes aren’t cool with, but that’s because she’s still operating off her own motivations and fears.

I wanted to compare these characters because I find them very interesting. Both are marked as cowards by the other characters in the story because they act based on fear. Interestingly, both become traitors, which is a little funny considering Dustfinger, who tends to stay on the straight and narrow a bit more than Ridley, betrays the heroes of the story, while Ridley betrays the villains to do good. Both face consequences because of those decisions, but I find it very interesting that they went opposite ways on that. Also, their betrayals are not based on their personal feelings about the characters they’re betraying, but their ability to obtain their end goal.

So, here’s my point giving you these two examples (other than to blabber about two really well-written series): look how interesting cowardly characters are to read and write. Look how much room for creativity and potential pathways they offer.

Dustfinger and Ridley know they’re cowards. It’s actively pointed out to them by other characters. They know they’re driven by fear, which in both cases lets people with bad intentions manipulate them. At least maybe not at first, they don’t care about the “Greater Good”, only reaching their goals, which are pretty understandable (*coughs* to make the reader empathize). Dustfinger is just a normal guy that got yanked away from his family and is trying to get home. Ridley was forced out of her family by her powers making a choice she couldn’t control and is just looking for a way to survive in the world of Dark Casters she now belongs to.

Because they are so desperate to survive and serve these motivations, they make bad decisions. But- and this is the important part- they can also make good ones. Yeah, Dustfinger screws up in book one, but he does his best to fix it. Ridley makes a whole host of bad decisions, but as I said, she makes a very good one to protect Lena that causes her extreme personal consequences.

Cowardly characters are so rich for writers because look at the potential they have. These examples are all over the place decision-wise. They can be heroes, they can be villains, they can be betrayers, lovers, family members…You can literally do anything with them because they may fall any certain way on a particular issue based on the situation around them. Better yet, because these are characters battling and acting off internal conflict, they are wildcards. They can make a split-second decision no one ever sees coming or change their mind if the right words are said to them.

I’m just saying, I wish stories had more characters like these. They’re so unpredictable, give such a deep range of emotion, and have tremendous potential for growth. Like Dustfinger, a cowardly betrayer can become one of the bravest heroes by the end of the story. Or like Ridley, even a supposedly “bad” character can be good sometimes. I think a lot of the reason we don’t see characters like this often is because executing a storyline like that in a way that doesn’t make you hate a character might be a hard task to pull off, but like I said, if you can pull it off, I think it reads great.

Any thoughts? Do you have any cowardly characters that you love to read? Do you have any advice for writing characters like this? Let us know!

Thanks for reading. Write on.

Kamryn