I’m concerned that my characters are too likeable. That I’ve become the Pollyanna of writers.
Rick? Occasionally he’s shallow (well, duh! He’s a guy!), but he’s growing fast. Sabrina? Bit part, grew into somebody so likeable that my female readership rebel if Rick isn’t off being faithful and celibate, even if she’s with somebody else.
Chai? You weren’t supposed to like her but she’s growing on you. Adeline? Haughty and abrasive, and suddenly she’s vulnerable and open and we like her too. Adeline was originally supposed to make a pass a Rick that he deflected–see, he doesn’t sleep with anybody who offers–but decided not to.
Lucas? Should be prickly and a little distant but isn’t; could have a racial chip on his shouldn’t but doesn’t. Ellie? How could you not love Ellie. Even bit part players like Jerome Collins (owner of the Low Country Gallery) and the sheriff are likeable.
The lawyer turns out to be a caricature, but not a despicable one. Crap, I’ve even created a likeable lawyer.
In the entire novel, the only person that you don’t like is JD. Well, the young woman who is working at the gallery in Hilton Head, but you’re never going to see her again.
Despite being a crashing introvert and spending a lot of my life avoiding others, I have this immutable tendency to see the best in people. It bleeds into my characters.
110,000 words, one 2-bit villain, everybody else one out on the island sitting around the campfire and singing Kum ba ya. Shit, I even like Kum ba ya!.
I suck at this writing business.