Brooding YA Hero Read online

  It also never hurts to remind yourself that you are far, far better looking than anyone else. We’ve already established that certainty, as it’s part of your main character identity, but maybe take a moment now to peer deeply into a mirror.

  Please use the lines below to jot down a paragraph describing yourself in all your glorious beauty. Try to use at least seventeen adjectives and twelve adverbs.

  Great. So now you have a handy list of all your awesomeness, as well as my three steps to ensure you will always be exactly as wonderful as that description ensures.

  So, how would you put these steps into action?

  I’ll walk you through an example.

  Let’s say a so-called concerned best friend approaches you. Maybe it’s a few chapters into your story and your plot is beginning to take shape. Your love interest has made some really excellent eye contact with you. Everything is going according to plan.

  Until dreaded lunchtime.

  It’s a well-known fact that lunchtime lasts exactly long enough for a scene to occur. Lunchtime in certain schools can last several chapters.

  At the lunch table, your best friend sits down across from you. Her one notable quirk is that she only eats orange food, so her tray is full of orange JELL-O, Cheetos, and … uh, oranges. (She may need a new quirk.)

  “Hey, ,” she says, her voice full of concern, her plain, average eyes swimming with … concern. “You … you shouldn’t become a main character.”

  You narrow your eyes at her. This is a rather suspicious statement. Why would she say such a thing? Is it because you’ve ignored her for the last 111 pages? How selfish of her. Doesn’t she know that you are a very busy main character, requiring a great deal of love and support from supporting characters whose sole reason for existing is to provide you support?

  “But why?” you ask.

  “Because it’s dangerous,” she says. She then explains how risky life as a main character can be, how she’s concerned about how you’ve been skipping school to hunt evil monsters with your boyfriend, and how blah-blah-blah responsibility.

  Is this because you make out with your love interest in front of her for hours on end? She shouldn’t be mad about that—she’ll get a love interest in, like, the third book. Or the thirteenth.

  Perhaps she is incredibly jealous of you. That must be it. She wishes she was the one dating the werelemur prince of the night.

  Ignore everything else she says, forever. Yes, even when she warns you it’s a bad idea to tell the evil villain exactly where you’ve hidden the object that is your werelemur boyfriend’s greatest weakness.

  Remember. IGNORE ALL ADVICE ALWAYS.

  (Unless it comes from me, in the context of this incredible book.)

  Right. So, hopefully, those suggestions helped you. Never forget this chapter because a lot of people you meet simply will not understand how important it is to be a magnificent main character.

  Speaking of ignoring logic, how about we do a little activity involving defying logic … and, well, me.

  On the next page is a black-and-white portrait of my lovely visage. Will you please color me in with the most dreamy, impossible-in-real-life eye color? Then you should cut it out and keep it in your wallet, as a reminder that a main character’s beauty may defy any logic you encounter.

  We’ve covered deflecting questions and concerns from friends, but there are other forces in a main character’s life who claim to be more concerned with “your best interest” and “your GPA” than how many adverbs your last lines of dialogue included.

  Some people call these annoying and yet necessary beings parents.

  I wouldn’t know. I never had a childhood. I simply woke one morning, perfectly formed in my flawless nature as an immortal, handsome teenage main character.

  Or did I?

  I’ll never tell.

  Okay. I might tell you, but it will be in, like, eighteen sentences at least.

  Let’s get back to you.

  Wow. That’s a first for me. I hope I’m not turning into some bland Nice Guy Next Door. Note to self: Never move next door to any cute main characters with protagonist potential. Remain as far away as possible from them, while still finding ways to invade their personal space.

  So, where were we? Oh, yes. Discussing your family’s objections to you declaring your undying love for someone you’ve only known for thirteen seconds. Parents are so irrational. I don’t understand why they can’t believe in your undying love. I mean, it’s not like you only caught a glimpse of your one true match for, like, two seconds. Thirteen seconds of intense gazing demonstrates some serious commitment.

  Let’s examine this situation in greater detail:

  “Look,” your concerned mother says. At least, I think she’s concerned. I’ve never had a mother, and certainly never had a parent who expressed interest in my well-being, so it’s confusing for me to imagine such a strange scenario. I’ll discuss how this would go in my house in a moment.

  Anyway, your mom says, “You can’t possibly be in love with this brooding werelemur you just met.”

  “Mom! I love him!”

  “You barely know him!”

  “I love him!”

  “You’re sixteen.”

  “I love him!”

  And so on and so forth. Really, no parent can actually argue with the “But I love him,” response.

  However, you might reply, “But you see, all I want is to be a main character.”

  Oh no. Now you’ve done it. You’ve caved and started using logic. That’s … not good.

  “I just wish you’d stick to being a supporting character.”

  “Eww, why?” you reply.

  “Because, one, supporting characters’ families are rather more stable and, well, alive than the families of main characters, and, two, supporting characters never become werelemurs or space princesses or baristas.”

  “Valid,” you say, and manage to make an amazing comeback. “But they never get trilogies either.”

  Your mother considers this for a moment and finally says, “Fine. I accept this life choice, provided I can simply be mysteriously absent from your narrative, and not actually kidnapped or anything.”

  You agree to this plan and return to your pursuit of main character status.

  There. Easily done.

  As for me … Reader, I must confess. I … I did have a childhood. Once. Er. I may have also confessed this earlier, but for drama’s sake, let’s just pretend this is the very first time you’re learning this most shocking information.

  You see, I was not born to be a protagonist. Nor even a supporting character. I was born a … villain. My family line has always been full of morally gray, complex characters who fans adore, despite the numerous terrible acts we’ve done—probably because we’re so ridiculously good-looking.

  Let me take you back to the moment in my life when everything changed.

  No, not the time we first gazed longingly at each other, though don’t worry, that will always remain a beautiful, glittering moment in my mind. (Just … uh … don’t ask me your name.)

  I mean the moment that I, too, achieved main character status.

  It was a stormy day—as stormy as my ultramarine eyes, as turbulent as the turmoil in my heart. We were in our castle/mansion/edifice-of-affluent-evilness, when my father found me. He, like me, is very handsome. Unlike me, he is an adult, and also evil.

  “Broody,” my father said. “It is time. Embrace your destiny.”

  “No!” I cried defiantly, my brilliant eyes burning with self-righteous passion.

  “You must,” he growled back, his voice like gravel and his gaze as stony as granite. “You must become a villain, as we all have for time immortal.”

  “Never!” I cried, and ran outside into the rushing wind, allowing the air to tousle my hair fetchingly for me. How could I be a villain when I was destined for so much more? I am clearly hero material, aren’t I? I thought in weighty internal monologue, which was
as heavy as the parental responsibilities my evil father tried to lay on my strong, manly, muscular shoulders.

  A little voice whispered to me, and it sounded like my father, reminding me of the long line of evil overlords from which I descend.

  I blocked out the urges, determined not to listen. Determined to become a … a main character. No one would stop me. I would become the main-est of all main characters, the most pro of all protagonists.

  I clenched my fist in the pouring rain. (When did it start raining? Directly when I started experiencing these intense emotions, of course.)

  I made my vow that day, and I have never wavered from my path.

  So, if I was able to cast my troubled past aside and change myself, embracing my own main character destiny, then you, too, can surely become one. We both have obstacles to overcome. I was a ridiculously attractive evil character, and you are a real, live, flesh-and-bones human who wishes to be transformed into a figure of fiction. Don’t let that stop you.

  There’s one more situation I’d like to discuss. And it’s a tricky one.

  What if you feel yourself being demoted to a … supporting character role? This is bad—like, really, really bad—but it’s best to be prepared.

  First, familiarize yourself with the warning signs of this terrible condition:

  1. The novel is in multiple POVs:

  Some novels head-hop from one character to another. These books are often enjoyable as a main character, as the reader gets to not only learn your own thoughts on how awesome you are, but also read other characters reflecting on your awesomeness.

  However, there is an inherent danger when there is more than one POV—someone else’s viewpoint could be more compelling than yours.

  2. The novel uses a framing story:

  Quick, check your first chapter. Are you a character who is an experienced storyteller or, perhaps, you are entering a theater to watch a dramatic production?

  You, my friend, are in grave danger! For the love of all that is Broody, stop speaking or turn around immediately! Otherwise, you may find that the secondary story—the tale you’re spinning for the prince, or the romance playing out on the stage—is the actual focus of the book. You’ll only appear once more, in the closing chapter, where you’ll soon be forgotten.

  3. You get kidnapped:

  Unlike the previous items in this list, this plot device has nothing to do with the way the Author chose to set up the story, and everything to do with your lack of agency as a character. Remember our discussion about agency? Being kidnapped (or fainting for any extended period of time) is the worst thing that can happen when you don’t have it. The plot will continue on without you, while you’re trapped, waiting for someone else to come to your rescue.

  4. You have a really, really cool best friend (who you’re not romantically interested in at all):

  It seems like you might be the protagonist of the story. After all, it’s in your POV and you’ve landed some really great adjectives. But wait! There is also a really, really cool best friend in this story. It quickly becomes apparent that your only role is to narrate the exciting events that happen to your best friend. You are nothing more than a human video camera, recording and saving these cool moments that are occurring to someone else. Heck, your so-called friend’s name might even be on the cover of the book.

  (And for the record, Gatsby wasn’t that great. Mediocre, maybe.)

  So, what do you do if you notice any of these things happening?

  First of all, PANIC.

  Seriously.

  Throw the most epic meltdown possible. Incite your fans to riot. Remind the Author of your awesomeness by haunting her dreams.

  Complain about it on Twitter.

  Other than that … Nope. I’ve got no other advice.

  Job Applications: Only Protagonists Need Apply

  As we’ve already covered, some people may question your main character lifestyle. They’ll say you’re pigeonholing yourself—you won’t have a role to fill in other stories. That you’re useless and overdramatic.

  That’s, in part, because supporting characters have it easier in one aspect of their development: they always know what they’re supposed to do. If you’re the comedic relief, you’re going to get your moment to shine whenever the Author decides the reader needs a laugh. If you’re a teacher, well, your sole purpose is to teach the main characters something seemingly insignificant, which will only be recalled when they are facing certain doom. Otherwise, you might not even have lines.

  Main characters, however, can fill any number of roles. Because I am so magnanimous, I’ve included some recent applications for main character roles, to show you how limitless your possibilities can be:

  Job Posting: Chosen One in Hiding

  This role is for any princess/warrior/otherwise-destined-Chosen One who has no idea of his or her true identity.

  Candidates should possess powers they don’t understand, a deep moral code, and a cheerful disposition, despite being sent to an orphanage as a small child.

  NOTE: Please only apply for this position if you are absolutely sure you are not the Chosen One. The successful applicant must be able to state with full certainty that we picked the wrong person for at least the first fifty pages.

  Tasks:

  • Save the day.

  • Avenge your parents.

  • Rule the kingdom. Despite your having absolutely no interest nor any experience in political maneuvering, we do hope by the end of the book you will be able to handle ruling a kingdom with no preparation or assistance.

  Required Experience:

  None, please. We want the Chosen One to learn all skills through the magic of plot or through actual magic. However, we won’t discourage dormant skills, buried deep within your amnesiac memory to reappear if it makes things easier.

  To Apply:

  Applications are considered on a rolling basis, as each new season brings a new lovable orphan to court. Please be prepared with your best curtsy and meaningful piece of jewelry. If you can capture a love interest before you reach the palace, that may also prove helpful.

  Job Posting: Improbably Talented Small-Town Teen

  Great new job posting! Perfect for any teens with far more talent than would be possible at their age, especially if their talents are highly plot relevant. Are you capable of piloting a submarine while playing the trombone? Perfect! Have you memorized every single one of Shakespeare’s plays, and filmed yourself as all the characters? Even better.

  All we need from you is to have some highly specific skills, with only the vaguest sense of how you got those skills.

  Tasks:

  • Sharpen your weird skills even more with specific quests that seem oddly perfect for your skill set.

  • Use said skills to find love/save the world/get into college.

  Required Experience:

  Must be from a small town. No city kids need apply.

  To Apply:

  We’ll come to you with a highly specific contest that only you could win.

  Job Posting: “Great White Savior”

  Are you a bland, Caucasian main character? Well, we’ve got a vaguely offensively stereotyped PoC nation in our fantasy world that needs you to save them.

  Tasks:

  • Find the nation.

  • Marvel at how incredibly strange and outdated their quirky customs are.

  • Learn their ways.

  • Take over.

  Required Experience:

  The ideal candidate will have a very strong ego, the unwavering certainty that his nation’s way of doing things is the best and only way, and absolutely no sensitivity for others’ cultures.

  An ability to charm locals into providing them with religious and magical talismans is highly desired.

  The ideal candidate needs to be able to fluently learn entire languages in the span of three paragraphs.

  To Apply:

  Strike out on your own, confident in your own colonialism-i
mbued strengths. We are sure you will find a country that needs saving soon.

  Job Posting: Reluctant Leader of the Rebellion

  Have you ever wanted to overthrow the evil overlords oppressing you? No? What if they kidnapped that one family member you care about most?

  Aha! We knew you’d be interested.

  Tasks:

  • Lead a ragtag team against a far larger, better-equipped army of bad guys.

  • Deploy complex maneuvers and guerrilla warfare combat skills.

  • Offer rousing, morale-boosting speeches that will bring your troops to the brink of tears.

  • Have at least one romantic liaison with someone in your squadron (who will likely die, but then you can make a rousing speech in your loved one’s memory).

  • Dramatically faint in battle.

  Required Experience:

  None. We prefer our military leaders fresh from a small farm town or other backwater locale. We trust that your main character skills will sufficiently prepare you for the use of any and all weapons and the development and deployment of winning battle tactics.

  To Apply:

  Please state loudly and clearly for all to hear that the rebellion isn’t your problem and that you are just trying to survive. This will ensure that something terrible will happen to your loved ones, allowing us to offer you the position.

  Job Posting: Overthrowing the Patriarchy

  Don’t you hate how there are all those things that guys can do, but girls can’t?

  In a contemporary, this might be a certain sport. In fantasy, it’s just about everything. Except needlework—girls are always allowed to do needlework—and that’s exactly why you hate it.

  Well, rather than focusing your efforts on improving the entire world for all women or ensuring that traditionally feminine traits and roles are still respected by the narrative, we’d prefer for a white, able-bodied, cishet, media-standard-approved beautiful female to become a feminist icon. (Just, you know, not the intersectional type. It is well known that a character can only represent one group at a time.)

  This role will require our chosen heroine to sneak into a male-dominated activity, such as fencing, football, or, more generally, existing, and show off her awesome skills in order to prove that women are just as capable as men.