We stan a horrible b*tch
What if I’ve been the unlikeable female character all along?
Recently I read Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh. The back cover blurb and the epigraph1 make it sound a little like The Handmaid’s Tale in space, though it is very much not that. The novel covers the long reach of trauma, the threat and promise of AI, the futility of collective vengeance, and other big themes. Primarily, though, it’s the story of protagonist Kyr’s development from true fascist believer to principled, even empathetic, freedom fighter.
Near the beginning of the novel, another character says to Kyr (paraphrasing to avoid mild spoilers): You’re a horrible bitch and everyone hates you. I hope you die. This character is absolutely sincere in their wish for Kyr’s death, and accurate about both her bitchiness and horribleness. Kyr is a bully, harshly enforcing the tenets of the militaristic dictatorship in which she has been raised; she actively avoids anything resembling critical thinking. She doesn’t begin to question her society until its rules strike directly at her and her brother, the one person she loves. At the outset Kyr is a deeply unlikeable character, and I’m not sure she becomes more palatable even as she makes moral progress. She grows into a better person, but not a nicer one.
And yet she struck deep into my soul from the first page. Her arc is one of the most compelling I’ve read in a while, partly because Tesh makes the choice to have her start out so seemingly irredeemable. When I was in middle school a teacher gave me an article she’d cut out of a magazine entitled “How To Be Liked.” I’m sure she meant well, though at the time I didn’t receive the message she was sending. I was fine; it was the other kids who were mean or indifferent to my sparkling personality.2 Maybe that’s why I have a soft spot for characters who know they rub people the wrong way and don’t handle it constructively. Instead of changing themselves, they lean into their toxic traits by scheming, or withdrawing, or lashing out. They twist the story to go their way and no one else’s.
From Mary Lennox to Becky Sharp to Thora Birch’s character in that movie where she sort of murders Keira Knightley in the disused fallout shelter, I’ve always sympathized with characters who are mean, especially if it’s because they feel powerless or excluded. I have mixed feelings about the word “bitch” and its gendered connotations, but it implies something specific that gets missed in gender neutral insults. A woman who is a bitch defies the nurturing, collaborative ideal of femininity. Assholes and bitches are people who don’t care enough about what others think or how they feel, but the bitch might have a point. Underneath her callousness, her anger is justified.
When I started writing When I’m Her, I knew Mary Burke, my main character, was going to be prickly and bitter, exactly the kind of character that garners negative Goodreads reviews. She’s a one-eighty from the plucky and outgoing protagonist of my debut novel, who I tried to make as unlike myself as possible.3 Mary’s not much like me either (I’ve mostly gotten over the old slights from my teenage years) but in writing her I let my pettiest impulses have free rein.
At the beginning of the novel, powerful people really are out to get her, and she’s not interested in working on herself. Her aim is plain old revenge, and the only personal growth she aspires to is to change, literally, into a different person. As the book goes on she sees the folly in this approach, but her personality doesn’t change. Her ultimate goal—to escape her flaws rather than overcome them—remains. Or maybe she wants to embrace them, making others accept her on her own terms, instead.
Like Mary, I’m not always interested in having a positive growth arc. There are things about me that I know are kinda toxic but I don’t have the energy (or any particular desire) to change. The prevailing narrative is that we should push the boundaries of our comfort zones every day, always striving to give more and be better. I’m sorry but that sounds exhausting. I’m just never going to be the person who volunteers for all the things or strikes up conversations with strangers that leave them feeling seen and valued.
Can a good person be unlikeable? Can a good character be unlikeable? These questions have as many answers as there are readers. But if Ted Bundy’s taught us anything, it’s that the opposite can be true.
Author updates
BOOK GIVEAWAY: You can enter to win one of 10 copies of WHEN I’M HER on Goodreads now through Feb. 29! Enter the giveaway here.
I’ll also be at Third House Books in Gainesville, Fla. on March 26 at 6:30pm to celebrate the launch of WHEN I’M HER! My conversation partner is the incomparable
, whose rom coms feature some of my favorite soft-but-strong heroes and prickly-yet-emotional heroines. They also have the most amazing covers.Reading/watching/listening
Like a Sister by Kellye Garrett—A woman goes searching for the truth after her half sister is found dead of a supposed overdose, but she may be in over her head. I know it’s crime fiction, but if snort-laughing every couple of pages at Garrett’s wry humor is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right.
I’ve finally started watching The Bear! Its depictions of Chicago and restaurant work are so specific and fascinating. The most unrealistic thing is the lack of sexual harassment but I do not miss it one bit lol.
Hans Zimmer’s score of Dune has been my background music for the last couple of weeks (my kid and I started watching the film but I had to finish on my own because it was “boring” and had “too many made-up words”)
If you enjoy my ramblings, you might like my books!
The Other Me, which PopSugar called a “Black Mirror-esque rabbit hole,” is an inventive page-turner about the choices we make and the ones made for us.
When I’m Her asks the question: How far would you go to get even with the woman who ruined your life? Out March 26.
A paraphrase of “I would rather stand three times with a shield in battle than give birth once” from Medea
I did not have a sparkling personality.
I’m thinking there might be a future newsletter here on how authors—particularly women—get conflated with their characters and the conscious or unconscious strategies we use to mitigate this.
You know I would love this newsletter anyway, but then I got to the part about our upcoming event and couldn't help but smile :) Also -- yes to your third footnote!!