I don't mean that sympathetic characters don't lie. A lie is a story told about the past, and dependability has to do with promises-stories the character tells about what she will do in the future.

How does this work? Pete stubbornly insists on trying to keep the family farm, even though it's losing money. We know he's going to fail, and if he sold it, he could pay for a college education for his younger brother, who hates the farm and hates Pete for making him stay there. The audience won't have much sympathy for stubborn, self-willed Pete.

But what if Pete is holding onto the farm because of a promise he made to his dying father? Now the audience will like him for his dependability. In fact, they'd lose sympathy for him if he wasn't stubborn. They'll hope something happens to let the younger brother get away and go to college; they might even hope that Pete loses the farm despite his best efforts, knowing that everybody's life will be better without the farm. But they won't want Pete to break his word, and if he finally does give in to these pressures, they'll expect him to feel deep remorse.

Don't underestimate the importance of a promise in fiction. The pledge, kept or broken, is one of the strongest motifs running through all of the world's story telling. It's one of the deadliest accusations you can level against an enemy: He doesn't keep his word. And if your main character casually breaks a promise, it will leave such a sour taste in your reader's mouth that you'll never fully win back the reader's sympathy.

What Should We Feel About the Character? 85

Cleverness

Notice that I don't use the word intelligence. That's because in our society with its egalitarian ideals, any obvious display of intelligence or erudition suggests elitism, snobbery, arrogance.

Yet we love a character who is clever enough to think of solutions to knotty problems. Does this seem contradictory? It is contradictory. You have to walk a fine line, making Nora very clever without ever letting her be clever enough to notice how clever she is. Nora can have enormous self-confidence - but she can never think of herself as superior to someone else because she is smart and the other person is dumb. If she thinks of a brilliant plan and it works, it surprises her more than anybody.

A perfect example of this is Harrison Ford's character in Raiders of the Lost Ark and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Indiana Jones is a professor of archaeology - but we never watch him being intellectually incisive. The one time we see him in the classroom, lecturing, he is rather bumbling and confused - distracted by a coed who has written a come-on message on her eyelids.

Yet whenever things go wrong, Indiana Jones comes up with a brilliant - or dumb-lucky - solution. He's smart, but he isn't intelligent. The audience loves a character who solves problems and knows exactly the right facts when he needs them - but they don't like a character who flaunts his superior knowledge or acts as if he knows how clever he is.

Endearing Imperfections: The Lovable Rogue

Now that we have a list of traits, actions, and attitudes that will persuade your audience to love a character, here's the rub: If Pete is too perfect, your audience will stop believing in him. We're back to that balancing act between caring and belief.

The answer to this problem is to give Pete some endearing imperfections. While using most of the sympathy tool kit to make the audience like him, deliberately give Pete some small, understandable foibles to make us believe in him.

Again, a Harrison Ford character is a perfect example. In the Star Wars movies, Han Solo keeps his word, comes to the rescue, is physically attractive, brave, and clever, and has a great sense of humor - but he is also boastful Han Solo: "I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight." Princess Leia: "I don't know where you get your delusions, laser-brain." And later - Princess Leia: "I love you!" Han Solo: "I know." and all his plans seem to be motivated by greed and self-interest. He also doesn't pay his bills.

The result? He's the best-liked character in one of the best-loved movies of all time.

Hercule Poirot's little vanities; Nero Wolfe's obsessive-compulsive behavior and his weight - a mere seventh of a ton; Sherlock Holmes's