By Bethany Fehr


When it comes to writing interesting characters, one of the most common pieces of advice is “give your character flaws.”

Generally, I think this is good advice. But what if I’m writing a hero—a character who is defined by good characteristics? Are those virtues not interesting on their own? Does a moral character need to be sprinkled with impurities to be multifaceted and compelling? 

Interest is generated by the unexpected, whether in surprise or in the discovery of new information. We expect compelling characters to be fascinating dichotomies, to be wave makers who provoke the unexpected in the world around them, and to be capable of change and growth. Giving characters flaws is one way writers can generate the contrasts and conflict needed to make all this happen. 

But what if there are other ways to get the job done? 

I’ll tell you a little secret: there are.



The Flaw in Our Understanding


Our mental model of good and evil often goes something like this: goodness is like a pristine sheet of paper—white, flat, and free of anything that would spoil its placid, blank-faced innocence. Spill some ink on it and it’ll become a splotchy mess—but the mess will be a whole lot more interesting than the vacant space. 

I think the Bible’ metaphor of light versus darkness is much more appropriate. Light gives life—it sustains the growth of food, splits into a vast spectrum of color that enables us to appreciate the world around us, and illuminates the pitfalls on our path so we can walk safely. Darkness and evil blind us, making life colorless and dangerous.   

The apostle John wrote,

“God is light and in Him is no darkness at all.”

(1 John 1:5) 


God is the source and creator of all that is good, true, and beautiful. If everything interesting ultimately comes from Him, good certainly has no need for evil to “spice it up.”

Jesus said that His people are “the salt of the earth.” (Matthew 5:13) Through His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus illustrated the characteristics that set His children apart from the world—that make them different and surprising. Interesting.

Jesus taught that Christians are to bring flavor to a bland, sin-numbed world. Though most of our fictional characters will have flaws just like real people, as Christian writers we need to make an intentional effort to make our virtuous characters interesting because of their goodness rather than in spite of it. 

Goodness doesn’t need any help to be interesting, but we can certainly learn how to make the most of it in our storytelling. 

In the rest of this article, we will look at three qualifications of interesting fictional characters and explore how they can be fully satisfied by virtuous characters. For context, we’ll observe how these qualifications are illustrated in the life of Christ and in the life of one of my favorite fictional characters—George Macdonald’s Wee Sir Gibbie



Interesting Characters are

a Bundle of Contrasts


One of the best ways to develop a fascinating character is to build elements of contrast directly into their personality and situation. 

Think Sherlock Holmes—he possesses a towering intellect, yet he’s ignorant of the fact that the earth revolves around the sun. Or Anne Shirley, who constantly gets into scrapes because she gets lost in her imagination but is remarkably dependable and clear-headed in an emergency. 

Good and evil are opposites, so it makes sense to create contrast by putting the two together. This can be an effective strategy, but it’s not your only option.

Goodness is the exception, not the rule, and it has a knack for surprising people. One way to take advantage of this is to put a virtuous character in a situation where goodness is unexpected. For example, a child growing up in an abusive home who decides she doesn’t have to be like her parents and commits to loving those around her, or a clean-living sailor who is a positive influence on his shipmates despite intense pressure to compromise. 

A character’s desires can also be set up in contrast without compromising their virtue. For example, a scenario in which a missionary couple must choose whether to stay with the people they’ve dedicated their lives to or to return home to parent their children who are not able to join them.

When a character has two worthy desires but can only choose to fulfill one, the resulting conflict can be powerful. The most meaningful dilemmas are not plain choices between good and evil, but between two good desires and/or negative consequences. 

Another effective strategy is to give a character two apparently contrasting traits. For example, a powerful person who brings change through gentleness rather than force; a remarkably skilled but humble person who sees her gift as a tool to bless others rather than a reflection of her worth; or a strong leader who takes joy in serving the weak.

 Truly good traits will complement each other rather than being at odds, but done right, the effect of surprise can be just as compelling.

Example from the life of Christ:

Christ’s example of love is the ultimate paradox. He is the Lion and the Lamb—the majestic Warrior King who humbled Himself to enter human history and minister to the lowest of the low as the Gentle Servant.

The most powerful being in existence became a helpless baby, born to a poor family from a despised town. He is the Creator and Sustainer of life, yet He willingly gave Himself over to death on behalf of His creations.

The Source of all joy experienced the deepest of all sorrows. He’s the one being most worthy of fear, but He is the safest refuge for anyone who places themselves under His protection. 

Example from The Baronet’s Song by George MacDonald:

Gibbie (short for Gilbert) begins the story as a street urchin, but rather than being a nuisance, he looks for opportunities to be useful and walks the drunks home at night. His neglectful father cares so little for him that he has to rely on the charity of others, yet Gibbie loves his father deeply and takes care of him when he’s at his worst.

 Even though his self-centered father is a terrible example, Gibbie is a beautiful example of a heart whose greatest happiness is in serving others. He lives in abject poverty, but he’s known to be a baronet. He was born without the ability to speak, but his actions communicate with the eloquence of music. 



Interesting Characters Provoke Unexpected Responses


A character’s relationship with the people and environments around him are just as important as his own personality. Just like characters, the most interesting relationships are those that surprise us—the ones that turn everybody’s world upside down and make stuff happen. 

I’ve heard it argued that this is one reason “nice” characters should be avoided. Nice people don’t stir things up. They don’t make people upset. They don’t have to make difficult choices. Everybody loves nice people (except readers, apparently.) Because obviously, the nice, loving thing to do is to live and let live, and where’s the drama in that?

Thankfully, “nice” and good aren’t quite the same thing.

Love as defined by Christ is not flabby, passive, or safe. Real love is dynamite. 

It goes places where “nice” would never dare, to serve people the world wants nothing to do with. It speaks truth even when the message is painful to its hearers. It turns enemies into brothers and sisters and costs us the friendship of the world. Love changes everything. 

In a world where people often act as if the highest virtue is to attack whoever disagrees with us, grace is a shocker. Showing mercy and kindness is unexpected and it gets people’s attention. Grace is what shows the world that Christ’s way is different and offers a glimpse of His beauty that attracts others to seek Him and pursue change. 

Showing love doesn’t always generate positive publicity, though. The path of love is the road less traveled, and it’s often a road of hardship. If you’re committed to following it, you can expect to be misunderstood, ridiculed and even hated. 

Christians are called to love as Christ loved, and our virtuous fictional characters should reflect His example. And His example is anything but boring. 


Example from the life of Christ:

Though the religious leaders of Jesus day knew the Scriptures and eagerly awaited the Messiah, they didn’t recognize Him when He arrived and constantly put the worst constructions on His acts of love.

 Jesus shocked everyone by reaching out to women, children, the poor, the sick, and those marked by sin and uncleanness. Those who refused to dirty themselves by serving the lowly despised Him for it, and those who received His grace were amazed that He would humble Himself to associate with them. Jesus had harsh words for those who believed themselves worthy of God’s appreciation, and they hated Him for it so much that they decided to kill Him.

 His life, death, and resurrection became the turning point of history and turned the world upside-down.

Example from The Baronet’s Song:

Rather than regarding him with suspicion, the town (including the police) favors Gibbie because he helps keep the streets safe. When he later ends up in unfamiliar territory, people assume the worst of him and he ends up getting punished in return for kindness.

People who don’t know him tend to look down on him or even fear him despite his honorable character and the fact that they’re safer for having him around. He shocks respectable people with behaviour they consider “disgraceful” when really he’s just humble enough not to care what people think of his unconventional displays of compassion.  



Interesting Characters

 Change and Grow


A character with nothing to discover is not the kind of person you want to accompany on an adventure. We want to follow characters whose view of reality is expanding and whose journey challenges us to face hard truths and opens our perspective to the wonder of curiosity.

 But if a character already possesses truth, what’s left for them to explore? 

We tend to think of understanding as limited. You start in a place of ignorance and work your way up to knowledge. Once you hit the ceiling, there’s nowhere else to go. It stands to reason that characters need to start at the bottom if they’re going to have room to grow. 

Good news—there is no ceiling, and your character doesn’t need to start at ground zero to get somewhere better. 

Goodness is infinite because God is infinite. His ways are so much higher than ours that even those humans who reflect His image the most clearly only scratch the surface of His goodness. It will take us ages of eternity to explore the depth of His character. If you’ve ever worried that Heaven’s perfection will be boring, you can put that fear to rest.

Openness to learning and change is actually a sign of maturity. Ignorance is unaware of its need to grow, and immorality resists any suggestion that it’s in the wrong. Humility and a clean conscience are the starting point for growth, not the finish line.

Because we all have infinite room to grow, our characters can start from a place of truth and continue to reach higher. 

Example from the life of Christ:

Although God defines truth, beauty, and goodness and therefore has no need to grow, in the person of Jesus Christ He chose to limit Himself to the constraints of life as a human. He entered our world as a baby and had to learn to walk and talk. He was educated in the Hebrew Scriptures and in His (earthly) father’s trade.

Though He never had to learn not to do wrong, as a child He “increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man.” (Luke 2:52) This statement seems to imply that Jesus’s relationship with His Heavenly Father developed in some way during His time on Earth.

Example from The Baronet’s Song:

Gibbie is already an incredibly virtuous child at the beginning of the book, and the story follows his maturation into an even more virtuous young man. Through his journey he learns many skills such as shepherding, reading, and etiquette.

He develops athletically and learns to handle new responsibilities and steward his resources as he grows older. Most significantly, he learns more of Christ and commits to pursuing His example in every aspect of his life. Gibbie is already loving, gentle, and servant-hearted, but continues to grow in these areas and find creative new ways to live them out. 


Conclusion:

Don’t be afraid to write good characters. Your fictional heroes’ virtue is a storytelling strength, not a liability. 

Goodness is inherently interesting, and it brings our characters to life as they surprise a world where goodness is increasingly the exception to the rule. Our characters are an opportunity to showcase the fascinating contrasts inherent within virtuous character, the world-rocking results of love in action, and the never-ending journey of learning and exploration. 

Let’s flavor our stories with characters who are salt and light. 

If variety is the spice of life, virtue has more than enough of it to go around.


Did you enjoy this article on virtuous characters and how the good traits of characters can be their most interesting? Let us know in the comments!


Bethany Fehr 

Bethany Fehr is a historical fiction writer, a benevolent critic, and a student of story. Storytelling is her space to engage with difficult questions and explore the character of God, and she hopes her stories will encourage others to think deeply about their faith. Classic authors George MacDonald, C.S. Lewis, and Harold Bell Wright are a few of her favorite sources of inspiration. Bethany lives in Alberta, Canada, where she sings with her family’s bluegrass/gospel band, teaches English to adult learners, and is making her dream of working as a fiction editor and storytelling coach a reality. You can find more of her thoughts on the power of storytelling at impactfictionediting.com.

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