On Heroes

There are certain authors whose books are automatic buys for me. Whether they deliver a twisted thriller, an emotional romance, or a wild ride into space, these authors have hooked me over the years with their engaging plots and characters. When I see an announcement for a new release, I preorder so I don’t miss it, then get a zing of excitement when the book arrives because I know I’m in for a treat.

Recently, a book arrived that was written by one of my longtime favorite romantic suspense authors, and no, I won’t say which one. The cover copy promised all the plot twists I’ve come to expect from that author, and I dove in immediately. The opening chapter introduced the hero, with his domineering personality made crystal clear. You know the type: broody, belligerent, and brash. Huge ego. Someone who acts as if he is more important than anyone else in the room.

Alpha heroes are a romance trope. They’re often described as being asses, but I don’t believe “ass” and “alpha” are interchangeable. There are plenty of fictional alpha heroes who aren’t capital-A Assholes, at least not by the end of the book. They have swagger, they have presence, but they don’t bring down those around them with their behavior or the force of their personality.

The guy in this book was a capital-A Asshole.

Now, I don’t have an issue with a hero who’s an ass on page one. In fact, it’s often a-okay with me. Humans are imperfect, therefore good characters are imperfect. It’s the tears in the fabric of their humanity—and the methods they choose in order to ignore, to hide, or to repair those faults—that make those characters interesting. Perfect characters are boring. They aren’t believable. Even sweet Glinda the Good Witch in the Wizard of Oz put Dorothy through some hellish trials. If a character is perfect, that perfection had better be a plot point.

However, when I encounter a hero who’s an asshole on page one, I want to know the reasons behind the behavior. I also want that character to grow. It may take some digging over the course of the story, and it may take some serious self-reflection or confrontation, but a hero needs to understand that he’s an ass—even if he has a damned good reason for it—and to question it. As a reader, if I’m supposed to cheer for this guy to beat the evil empire, save the world, and/or walk into the sunset with his true love, he needs to prove that he’s worthy. Over the course of the story, he needs to show improvement. At the very least, he needs to show that he desires to become a better person.

Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, aka GOT's Jaime Lannister

If you’ve watched HBO’s Game of Thrones, Jaime Lannister starts out about as repulsive as a human being can be. He’s involved in an illicit relationship with his sister. He throws a young boy from a tower. We're told that he killed the previous king. Yet over the course of the series, we see him struggle not only with the ramifications of his actions, but with the actions themselves. He begins to make choices that go against his own self-interest. He makes sacrifices to save the lives of others and becomes increasingly uncomfortable with killing in order to gain or maintain power. By the midpoint of the series, I wouldn’t say that Jaime is a hero, but viewers see that he has the potential. It’s not out of the realm of possibility for Jaime to prove through his actions that he deserves happiness. He’s also interesting. Viewers want to follow his journey, to see if he can overcome the odds and continue to redeem himself.

On the other hand, if a character who’s an ass on page one remains that way on the final page, and he makes no headway toward change, he isn’t a hero. If it’s a romance and he walks away with the love of his life despite treating everyone—likely including that love interest—like dirt, I’m going to regret every minute I spent reading that story. I’m also going to be annoyed with that love interest for displaying an utter lack of self-respect. If it’s a thriller, I’ll be happy the guy saved the world (duh), but I’ll be pissed to see him gloat about it. An ass doesn’t save the world for the greater good. An ass saves the world for his own enrichment.

And so it was with the book I’d been dying to read. The hero was an ass on page one. Reasons were given over the course of the story to explain the hero’s sullen self. He even says he’s a jerk. But he doesn’t care that he’s a jerk. He continues to treat people like dirt, and as the story progresses, there’s little to no change in his behavior. I became more and more annoyed with him as I flipped the pages, waiting for him to have a moment of revelation, to make different choices, to become a better human being. That moment never came.

The heroine of the story was an intelligent and likeable professional. She had friends and was respected by her colleagues. She treated others well, but refused to be a doormat…except when it came to the hero. He was repeatedly rude to her. In response, she huffed, she yelled, and she told him he was wrong. He inevitably responded with a variation of, “I am who I am,” and she sighed. At one point, she thought to herself that the guy was an ass, but the sex was fantastic, so she may as well stay put. That would all be well and good if she only wanted sex, but the heroine wanted a relationship, and she knew that. I wanted her to walk away. When she didn’t, I started to dislike her, too. When the two of them nailed the bad guys at the end of the book, my “goody for them” was sarcastic. I didn’t care. I wanted them to go into a cave together and never come out.

Heroes need to be worthy of that role. They need to live up to the promise of the premise. Readers want reasons to cheer for them to solve the mystery, get the bad guys, and/or fall head over heels in love with an equally worthy partner.

All that being said, I’ve preordered the author’s next book, because this is a writer who has delivered the goods time and time again. But if the hero is an ass on page one, I’m flipping to the midpoint to see what he’s doing before I commit to reading the full book. Life’s too short to deal with assholes when the bookstore shelves are filled with more interesting choices.