An overused archetype is the real villain of your story.
Have you ever read a thriller where the main character has all the right stuff? Having flawless intuition, impeccable deductive skills, and always being ahead of the killer? I recently took part in a critique group where I read this exact protagonist. She was a successful businesswoman (props to her), but she also knew how to escape a killer from an international terrorist group, drive a speed boat like Speed Racer, and disarm a bomb that could blow up the whole city.
I think I may have stumbled upon a Mary Sue
A Mary Sue is a fictional character archetype that is often a young woman. The term is used to describe a character who’s perfect, has no flaws, and talents she pulls out of nowhere. They’re also hot, virtuous, and well-liked by everyone. Just like everyone I know.
Creating a Mary Sue character for your mystery or thriller is like trying to solve a puzzle with all handed to you in the precise order in which you need them. Where’s the fun in that? Mystery writing thrives on suspense, surprises, and the thrill of the unknown. Writing a character who breezes through every twist and turn without breaking a sweat not only defies the very essence of mystery but risks putting your readers into a boredom-induced slumber. Zzz.
Why are Mary Sues almost always written by female writers?
This headline appeared on a popular online forum. I don’t buy it. One answer was that the author is inserting herself into the story. Another suggested it was amateurs. A third argued that men do it too. There’s James Bond for instance. But here’s the deal; I expect Bond to get away from the killer, drive a speed boat, and disarm the bomb. He’s an international spy. I would expect the same from the Angelina Jolie character in Salt. These characters are “highly trained” but made for Action/Spy thrillers.
Readers want to be captivated, challenged, and kept on the edge of their seats.
John Truby, in his book The Anatomy of Genre, writes, “the hero [in thrillers] is usually an untrained, average person who sees something suspicious and looks into it. [She] has no ability to fight, doesn’t carry a gun, and has a physical or mental weakness that makes her susceptible to attack.”
Two examples to shine light on what Truby is saying:
In The Girl on the Train, Rachel drank too much, and people were messing with her head, including her ex. Because of it no one believes a word she says, including herself.
In The Last Thing He Told Me, Hannah was a furniture maker trying to escape the mob who was after her missing husband and possibly her stepdaughter. Hannah has to rely on her own reasoning to outsmart the FBI agents and US Marshal on their trail.
So, writers steer clear of the Mary Sue protagonist trap. Instead, embrace characters with quirks, flaws, and the occasional stumble, like Rachel. Let your readers join the investigation, putting together clues, worrying for the main character, and enjoying the excitement of solving the mystery alongside flawed characters.
After all, the joy is in the journey, not the shortcut to the solution! Otherwise, we’d just go straight to the last page.