I don’t write characters to be loved. I write characters as if they were someone you could meet in a Starbucks line on any Monday morning. I guess that’s why so many people have hated my debut book’s main character, Mia.

Mia is an inexperienced, impulsive teenager who makes a lot of bad decisions. Thus, she can be unpredictable and annoying. Just like any ordinary teenager. If teenagers—or your memories of being one—get on your nerves, you’ll hate Mia too.

This is what a flawed character does: they make us uncomfortable. They hurt, they lie, they say the wrong thing, they mess up. Some of them seem never to learn. They can’t hide their limitations, contradictions, hypocrisy, prejudice, selfishness, pride, cowardice, envy, alienation, and all other hateful things we wish didn’t exist. But those things are all around us. In others, and in ourselves.

Sorry, if you disagree, but perfect characters are simply boring. They suck. Most often you love them until you turn the last page, when they are promptly forgotten.

Flaws are not just narrative tools—they are invitations to understand imperfection, conflict, and transformation. Once again, in others, and in ourselves.

Why Do Some People Hate Flawed Characters?

I asked this question on social media and someone answered that it is because they hit too close to home. That’s so true. Flawed characters reflect an uncomfortable relatability when they show their weaknesses or negative traits. It reminds us of the parts of ourselves or of others we struggle to accept.

My guess is that the resemblance with reality is why most people hate flawed characters; after all, everybody wants Scarlett O’Hara’s drive and resilience, but who wants to be known for being selfish, manipulative, materialistic, and cold?

It gets worse when their unpredictability, for being human-y, makes them betray allies, act irrationally, or sabotage themselves. They wreck our expectations when all we want is someone to care about. Let’s agree it gets hard to root for Frodo when he starts to succumb to tiredness. I like Sam better, not lying.

Still, I don’t want to be so quick to point fingers. Sometimes, we reject them simply because they don’t meet our personal or cultural values. It’s not about relatability; it’s moral judgment when we need to draw a line. It happened to me when I read Game of Thrones—virtually every character had a major ethical problem at some point, so I can’t even name one. Another character that is too much for me is Humbert Humbert from Lolita. I just can’t.

Also, not all flawed characters grow, and some even double down. We have a tendency to crave justice, accountability, or growth, which we don’t always have in real life, but those bloody bastards may insist on disappointing us by resisting redemption despite all the chances they’re given. Let Dorian Gray himself be my witness! Or Jack Sparrow—there’s a YA Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack Sparrow book series, in case you don’t know.

Flawed Characters: More Than Just Anti-Heroes or Villains

Flawed characters, anti-heroes, and villains are faulty, but they are not the same.
Take Scarlett O’Hara, for example: while her actions are questionable or downright mean, she is primarily driven by self-preservation and protection of her family and home. She is not intrinsically evil or morally rotten, and she is redeemable. In addition, moral ambiguity was ingrained in the world she lived in, where the social order crumbled after the Civil War. Besides, Scarlett lacks malice for malice’s sake and possesses many qualities like her resilience and love for the red earth of Tara. She can be considered a classic example of an anti-hero.

Dorian Gray, on the other hand, is an outright villain, although he is the protagonist (yes, protagonists can be villains). Despite his internal struggle, he actively chooses to embrace hedonism and moral depravity, resisting redemption and diving deeper into vice. He’s cruel, incapable of loving anyone or anything else but (the perfect version of) himself.

In a modern narrative, we find Katniss Everdeen, who is an unequivocally “good girl” with issues: she is impulsive and even reckless, very guarded with her emotions, stubborn and single-minded. Moreover, she is paranoid, distrusting even those who care for her, and all that gets in the way of her journey. Still, Katniss is inherently good with a strong moral compass, so she is just a flawed character.
A quick reminder: morality is cultural and subjective, so the idea of a neutral, good, and bad moral alignment changes depending on who’s writing or reading the story. Flawed characters can sound villainous for some, while villains can come across as just faulty.

Why Other People Love Flawed Characters

The first reason is actually the same as why some people hate those exact characters: they feel real. When you see yourself or someone you know in a character, you connect to them. I bet there were plenty of times when the way you pictured a character matched someone you knew. That’s how close they felt.
Nobody is perfect in real life, so perfect characters may feel distant. Contradictions and inner battles make them believable.
Besides, imperfection is universal. Flawed characters remind us that being imperfect is human, and following a character can help us understand, accept, or overcome rejection of parts of the self or of others we don’t like, independently of the character’s arc. A character that helped many readers see this was Bridget Jones.
Flawed characters challenge readers. When we find ourselves empathizing with people we normally wouldn’t, enjoying or rejecting morally gray characters or questionable actions, we may (re)examine our own values.

But the most enjoyable of it all is when a flawed character confronts and overcomes their shortcomings. Watching a character change is cathartic! They may never change or do it painfully slowly, but the messier the starting point, the higher the stakes, and the stronger the resistance, the more powerful, satisfying, and inspirational the transformation.
I’m not giving an example of character growth because it may spoil the story for some, but I can mention Severus Snape, probably the most layered character in the Harry Potter series. Most people dislike him until they understand how he became that way and what truly lies within his heart. Well, some people will still hate him even then, but for many readers, myself included, Professor Snape is the character that stuck the most (okay, Alan Rickman playing him in the movies consolidates that further).

Why Flawed Characters Matter in Modern Storytelling

Nowadays, not only in literature but in the broader cultural movement, readers are more tolerant—if not drawn to—complexity, contradiction, and emotional vulnerability. We value authenticity over perfection, so flawed characters feel especially relevant.
But you don’t need to worry if your cup of tea is the comfort that clear-cut ‘good’ and ‘bad’ characters offer. Stories that clearly separate good from evil, like fairy tales and feel-good books, will never go away. They continue to be as relevant as ever and will always keep their place under the (eternal) sun.
It’s just that flawed characters matter because they reflect the human condition, drive conflict, and invite empathy. They push fiction out of the realm of make-believe to provoke, disturb, challenge, and sometimes even heal us, flawed humans. That’s what they are remembered for: not for their unwavering courage, extreme kindness, or impeccable morality, but for looking so much like us.

Books and Characters Mentioned in this Article

• Mia Hunter from The Anyones Part I by Mizz Mary (2024).
• Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell (1936).
• Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien (1954).
• Humbert Humbert from Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov (1955).
• Dorian Gray from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (1890).
• Jack Sparrow from the Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack Sparrow series by Rob Kidd (2006–2009).
• Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (2008).
• Bridget Jones from Bridget Jones’s Diary by Helen Fielding (1996).
• Severus Snape from the Harry Potter series J.K. Rowling (1997-2007).