Let’s talk about dicks, man.

May 7th, 2010 by Oddmonster / 2,323 views

(Dicks, man.)

Not the body part, but the dude. You know the guys I’m talking about: the bad boys, the anti-heroes, the tools, the jerks and the mean boys. The guys you hate to see your hero hook up with, even though you can totally sympathize with the smoldering hot appeal.

But how much is too much? What crosses the line from Bad Idea Boy to Intervention Time? And where do you, as the reader draw that line? At what point does smoldering danger erupt into charred and blackened ruins?

In some ways, the phrase I love to toss around in my reviews–”unlikeable protagonist”–is inadequate to describe the ways in which protagonists can fail as characters and still appeal to a reader.

I tend to measure toolitude along two axes: likeability and interestingness. And this is going to be way easier with examples, so let’s get to it.

Bad Boy #1: Unlikeable But Fascinating

Look, there are plenty of truly great romances out there where one of the parties is a Grade A certifiable jackass, but the important thing is that the jackass in question is fascinating. He keeps you reading because you want to know what makes him tick; he’s not just Darth Vader in assless chaps, but a full-blown, three-dimensional human being, flawed and difficult but compelling to watch, nonetheless.

Case in point: Justin from Divas Las Vegas. Justin is self-centered, egotistical, high-maintenance, unstable and plays fast and loose with the truth and yet at the same time, he is fascinating. You can plop Justin down in the middle of the Sahara with a compass and a crust of stale bread and you just know five days later he’s King of Persia. And you will show up at his court to watch him be fed small sweet pickles by heavily muscled men, and you will be dying–dying!–to hear how he got there. Justin is just that kind of boy. You forgive him so much because he is so frequently a trainwreck in motion.

Another case in point: EM Forster’s Maurice. The title character is not very likeable at all. At all! He’s self-centered and conflicted and makes selfish and terrible decisions aimed at protecting his perch on the shelf at the top of the closet, next to the hat boxes. But at the same time, watching him come to terms with his sexuality and making an attempt to come to terms with his desires and the choice he has to make as to how he will lead the rest of his life–makes Maurice intriguing. Just like with Justin, you can’t look away, but for entirely different reasons. Watching Maurice grow is one of the rewards of the story.

Bad Boy #2: Unlikeable But Redeemed

If a protagonist is just being mean for the sake of meanness, or never gets past his meanness and moves on, I’m out. If he never grows as a person, if he never matures and locates the stepladder that lets him get over himself, he’s not gonna get my stamp of approval. But if he can pull it together? That’s an interesting guy.

For instance, in Twice the Cowboy, Twice the Ride, Manuel skates perilously close to Mean Boy territory a couple of times, but as the story unfolds, you learn that it’s wariness and cultural differences that are contributing to the appearance of meanness. That knowledge, and how Manuel communicates it to his partner, Jesse, and Jesse’s consideration of it–whether it explains everything and whether Manuel’s worth sticking around to watch mature–contributes a wonderful undertone of depth and realism to the love story. And yes, eventually Manuel does grow and try and really gets outside his comfort zone for Jesse, because they are in love. And it works.

Similar idea: Alec in Ellen Kushner’s Swordspoint. I know it’s a time-honored classic, but come on, show of hands, who thought Alec was kind of a dick for two-thirds of the book? Hm? Hm?

And yet, during that last third, it’s like he cracks open his ribcage and rips out handfuls of heartmeat to throw at his and Richard’s enemies, and it’s not just redeeming, it’s an absolutely stunning act of redemption that breaks your heart. Especially if you read “The Death of the Duke”, the novella that’s currently included in the mass-market paperback version. Get your hankies out.

Both these guys, Manuel and Alec, are what I consider examples of The Bad Boy Redeemed. Without the redemption–

Bad Boy #3: Unlikeable and Unredeemed

–you get Cam, from K A Mitchell’s Diving in Deep. Now, I get that the reader’s supposed to understand he’s locked away from his feelings and deep in the closet and working manfully through his issues to be the boy Noah can take home to his family but…but but but, Cam’s a tool. If I was Noah’s friend and saw that relationship going down, I’d be taking him for some carbs and talking to him about Bad Choices With Nice Abs. I didn’t want the two of them to end up together. Really, I didn’t.

This was a case where I simply couldn’t find the redeeming qualities underneath the thick layer of tool. And Cam really wasn’t as fascinating as Cam thought he was, regardless of how many coffee tables he destroyed using Noah’s admittedly ecstatic person. Cam was so mean. So mean. Noah might have forgiven him, but I never did.

But that isn’t to say Diving in Deep is a bad book; on the contrary, it features some of the hottest sex I’ve ever seen (did I mention the coffee table? I need to mention the coffee table. And the desk. Holy moses). An unlikeable protagonist is in no way a death knell for a book. But a bad boy left unredeemed is something that requires a very strong workaround.

I mean, even while I wanted Noah to leave Cam’s ass, I could respect why Noah stayed; Cam’s unredeemed dickness and Noah’s addiction to it were both realistic, and the strength of the rest of the storytelling is actually enough to support that. It’s a daring move, and one Mitchell made pay off.

Bad Boy #4: Unlikeable, Uninteresting and Unread

But sometimes, nothing can save a protagonist. Take, for instance–yes, I’m a horrible person–John Simpson’s The Ghosts of Stanton Hall. Fantastic premise: man inherits haunted manse complete with on-site crematorium (oh come on, like I’m the only one who thinks that would rock), sleeps with butler, lawyer and the ghost haunting the ancestral mansion. Now, I’m sorry, John, but Ryan could’ve decided to fuck a doorknob and it wouldn’t have made him any more likeable or interesting. He is dry, selfish, shallow and not particularly intelligent. We’re told he’s handsome, but then again, so’s a well-made pair of shoes, but it doesn’t make you want to have sex with them*.

Then there are the good guys who make bad decisions. They’re a whole separate breed.

Bad Boy #5: The Temporary Bad Boy (Good Man, Bad Brain)

There’s definitely something to be said for a guy who comes across all gleaming teeth and perfect abs, then makes a major mis-step. It humanizes him somehow, to see a soft, squishy fallible underbelly.

In Chris Owens’ Bareback, when Tor did That Thing (look, I’m not going to spoil it for you; go read the book, it’s outstanding. Five stars) was there anyone who didn’t wince? I bawled like an infant. Seriously, my partner came flying in from the other room to see if I’d been injured. And while it hurt to read about what he and Jake went through, at the same time, I loved watching how they handled Tor’s misstep. I understood why he did it and how much he had to grow to move past that moment and be the man Jake truly deserved, so that I could love the sequel, Natural Disaster, that much more. (Seriously. Five more stars! Love those books.)

Sarah Monette’s The Bone Key is a haunting and thought-provoking collection of ghost stories with a somewhat wishy-washy protagonist, Kyle Murchison Booth. And Kyle really only became fully real to me in the story “Elegy for a Demon Lover”, where he lets an incubus into his home.

You and I know full well that that’s a horrible idea, and so did Kyle; right from the start he knew something was off but he was so desperate for the contact, so anxious to keep having the guy all to himself that he prayed his instincts were wrong. That they weren’t, of course, lends the story nearly all of its punch. The remaining impact is driven by Kyle’s heartbreak and loneliness both before his incubus’ arrival and after, when his departure leaves Kyle alone in his sumptuous but ultimately empty apartment.

They’re good men who toy with terrible ideas but ultimately emerge from their experiences with the same essentially likeable and loving personalities they went in with. And who doesn’t sometimes wish their good guy was, well…a little bad sometimes?

Next time, lest we get all tangled up in dangling genitalia: unpleasant lesbians! Come for the frigidity, stay for the hair pie!**

*Unless it does, in which case I am going to respect your informed, consenting choice from over here. *shoefucker powerfist*
** Show of hands, who needs that on a t-shirt for an ex-girlfriend or two?

Posted in Ramblings

27 Responses


  • Tam says:

    OMG, that is one of the funniest things I’ve ever read. I’ve snorted out loud several times. You have some one-liners in there. I should write those down somewhere so when I need a chuckle I can look at them. What a super way to start the morning.

    So you thought Cam was unredeemable? I thought when he finally got his head out of his ass he did love Noah and would do most anything for him, but yeah, in general he’s an asshole but I still loved that book. LOL

    I’m not a fan of the anti-hero like some, but Adam in AM Riley’s Immortality is the Suck worked for me in a big way. Total total jerk and yet definitely fascinating, even if he hadn’t been turned into a vampire. :-)

    Super job. I’m not a reader of f/f but I’m looking forward to reading your “unpleasant lesbian” post as well.

    • Oddmonster says:

      Thanks!

      Re: Cam, I thought at the end, the whole head-pull bit was…too little, too foot-draggy. Like he only did it because he knew it was the right thing to do, rather than because he really loved Noah. But I do agree with you: great book. Absolute page-turner.

      I’ll have to check out this Adam person, along with Jake Riordan, who I keep reading so much about. I’m kind of hoping he’s like a gay Dirk! Pitt!, because Clive Cussler’s hero is not very likeable (and a little Gary Stu) but I’d love to see him paired up with a boy who gives him all the sass his heroines never do.

      Thanks for your comment!

      • Chris says:

        A-ha! I kept waiting for you to mention Adam or Jake Riordan or Tom from the Deadly mysteries. But you have to read them first!

      • Amparo says:

        I sncoed the gripe water comment. It’s amazing!I also sncoed the comments on BFing. It WILL hurt! I worked with a lactation consultant to get the perfect latch with Caroline and she would say, “See, that doesn’t hurt, does it?” I always looked at her like she was insane! I think my biggest help in being able to stick with it was going into it knowing that it was going to hurt bad! It is an amazing bond and I am currently struggling with when to give it up with Caroline (almost 14 months). She does so well and it is such an amazing bond!You are going to do great, Diana. It is very easy to see you as a mother!

  • Jenre says:

    I have a real love of the dicks that author throw at us (I can’t believe I just wrote that). Tam has already mentioned my favourite, Adam. And of course how could we possibly forget the great Jake Riordan, who probably encompasses at least three of those categories :) . I can’t deny that there’s something about a bad boy that just delights me – possibly because they are opposite of what attracts me in RL.

    Thanks for such an enlightening and entertaining post. I laughed my socks off a few times.

    • Oddmonster says:

      Thanks very much! I’m glad you enjoyed the post. You realize, I am now on a mission to track down this Jake person? I’m hoping he’s a combination of Clive Cussler’s Dirk! Pitt! and ole Jack Burton from Big Trouble in Little China. I must find out!

      And thanks again. :)

  • Lily says:

    Fabulous post. I’m still laughing, totally loved it.

    I agree that Cam was a total DICK but I was ok with him at the end and since Noah, who I loved, was happy I felt the book ended good. And oh my, yes the coffee table scene was hot!!

    My reactions to what Tor did was the same as yours. I think I was as devastated as Jake was and I hurt for them both. I loved that book so much.

    • Oddmonster says:

      Yeah, see, I’d be one of Noah’s friends with the pursed lips and the raised eyebrow, going, “Oh chile, it ain’t never gonna last.” And waiting around to pick up the pieces.

      Which, you know, would include a whole living room suite full of smashed furniture. Damn, that book is hot.

      I have forgiven Tor now, but it was a very close thing. I could not put either of those books down if my life depended on it. *shiver*

      And thank you very much for your kind comment. I appreciate it.

  • Kassa says:

    This is one of the funniest posts I’ve read. Christ you have a way with words. Well Done!

    All of your points are totally on point and I can remember having many of the same reactions. Sobbing when Tor did what he did (omg Tor WHY! WHY!) and throwing the book over Cam. Yet I loved both books and that’s one reason I just adore great romance fiction. Bad boy or angel, make me invest in the character and care (even one way or the other) and the author has done their job.

    I do think we need to do an inter-blog re-read of Bareback.

    Thanks for the truly fabulous post *shoefucker knuckle punch*

    • Oddmonster says:

      Thanks very much! I’m glad you enjoyed it!

      Also, did you really throw the book over Cam? Becaue if you did, I love you. You are my heroine.

      And I am so down for an inter-blog Bareback read.

      Which sounds a lot dirtier than it should be. Then again, with this crowd…. :D

      Thanks again!

  • Jules says:

    Tell me you’ve read Suzanne Brockmann’s Troubleshooters Inc. My favorite characters never really did get their own full-length book (All Through the Night was just a novella and I didn’t get HALF the hot sex scenes the het couples did), but HOLY GOD, you can’t talk about Bad Boys without talking about Robin Chadwick, Adam Wyndham, and the mindfuck they pull on Jules Cassidy.

    *waits for someone to discuss this with*

    • Oddmonster says:

      You know, I haven’t read the Brockmann book, but I’ve just put it on my TBR list. You’ve definitely piqued my interest.

      • Jules says:

        Hee. Fair warning, Jules isn’t around until book 2, Robin doesn’t arrive until “Hot Target”. But you can pretty much just read the Jules & Robin books and skip all the rest (unless you like het, in which case just read the whole series, because her heroines are the only ones I actually read). Jules & Robin’s story is mostly in:

        Hot Target
        Force of Nature
        All Through the Night

        They show up in other books, too, but those are the ones where you get most of their relationship development.

  • K. Z. Snow says:

    Loved this article — articulate, insightful, and really freakin’ funny. Your reviews are the same. It’s always a joy to find a refreshing voice in the “opinions are like assholes” online book community. ;-)

    • Oddmonster says:

      Thanks very much! I really appreciate the feedback. I try pretty hard to be both funny but fair. It’s great to know that folks are enjoying themselves. Thanks!

  • My written ones tend to fall into Unlikeable and Unredeemed. Seducing and murdering innocents is just another way to prove your love for my guys. Carving your lover’s eyes out from jealousy, just another way to show you care.

    So far, the only one I can think of in my reading is Eric from Cat Grant’s The Arrangement. He’s a selfish, egotistical prick and his personality tends to subsume his lovers’. He does redeem himself, but it’s going to be a long struggle for the three of them, simply because of who he is.

  • Oddmonster says:

    Huh. I think I have one of your books on my TBR pile, and I’m about twenty pages in, and so far everyone’s likeable. So are antiheroes not the hard and fast rule?

    And are they easier, as an author, to make their partners fall for them? Or are they just fun to use to incite violence and blow things up with?

    (I’m genuinely curious about the authorial side of writing them and am trying to ask respectfully. If I’m failing at that, please do call me out on it).

  • PD Singer says:

    Love the way you break out the characters, and “toolitude” deserves its own measurement page in the Pocket Ref.

    I’ve read some of this list, and now have to read the rest. (And I can’t believe you have yet to experience Jake Riordan.)

    • Oddmonster says:

      Thanks! At this point, I can’t believe I haven’t experienced Jake Riordan either. He appears to have gold medaled in tool. Must investigate.

  • Kris says:

    I know I’m late to this, but friggin’ funny and instantly my Bad Boy Bible. :D

    And can I just add… FINALLY! Someone who felt about Cam the same way I did! What a total dick he was. I would be the one of Noah’s friends tsking, handing him a box of tissues and/or chocolate and telling him I told you so.

    • Oddmonster says:

      Thank you very much!

      And hallelujiah! There’s that one scene where Noah’s social worker friend has coffee with him and tries to empathize, and you can tell he’s thinking, oh that’s right, you hooked up with the dismissive frat-tool you’ve been lusting after since mm, forever, right, do go on.

      And I SO WANTED HIM TO INTERVENE. I wanted that friend to tell Noah that sometimes bad boys happen to good boys and no one will miss the coffee table but can we talk about all the crying? AAAAAAAAA. That book makes me crazy.

      But thank you! :D

  • Cary says:

    Loved the premise of this post and the cataloging of unlikeable protagonists on the scale of interesting and redeemable!

    Imagine my frustration, when the examples are almost all Greek to me. Arg! The only example I’ve read is Maurice, who didn’t seem half as dickish as his school friend who finished up his gay “phase” and moved on so callously. Swordspoint — I have to confess to finding it a slog and not making it through (heresy, I suppose). I’ve read NONE of the other examples. Jake Riordan, now, him I do know. (One of these days I will get to Bareback. I just am so put off by the title that I keep not going there. It sounds like 70s porn to me, although I understand it’s a cowboy title.)

    Oddmonster, your post makes me think of a subgenre, kind of like that Gay For You one people post about. This would be Good To You — he’s generally a bad boy, a tool, a dick, but he shows his softer, good side to his love interest (by the end of the book). How else to explain the amazing bad taste so many people show in their fictional and real life relationships — they are with tools that they see good in, good that is invisible to everyone else. It’s GTY.

  • Oddmonster says:

    Thanks! I knew when I wrote the article that the list was way, way incomplete, but I could only draw from the books I’ve read to make my examples. And then everyone showed up and asked about Jake Riordan, which was kind of a lesson to me to do more research than I had done.

    Your idea of a Good To You genre is really interesting. Would there be a Bad To You flipside? Or are the Good To You boys bad to others, and what does that mean about them? I love thinking about these kinds of things.

    I can understand where you’re coming from on Maurice, because his friends were dickish too; but I see them more as reflections of the anti-homosexuality more of the time. It was criminalized, after all. But that doesn’t excuse Maurice’s running away and hiding behind the hat boxes, for me. It was selfish and cowardly, is what I got from it. But I’d definitely be willing to re-read the book to take another look.

    Thanks for your response! It’s definitely given me food for thought.

    • Cary says:

      Well, situational dickishness can happen to anyone. But, Bad To You in a romance, wouldn’t that be the unexpected BDSM top? Mild mannered clerk by day, your secret leather daddy by night, it’s BTY? LOL (Otherwise, it’s those seriously twisted, it will hurt me to read them, relationships where someone stays and is secretly abused by everyone’s favorite pal.)

      Your post made me go hunt down some of your examples. My research revealed I DID finish Swordspoint; it was the sequel I put down unfinished. And Alec, his whole existence is dickishness, you’re so right. After all the heroics and redemption, it looks like they settled down happily again into Alec being a dickish diva (divo?) of ultimate high maintenance, which oddly enough suits the swordsman. Is it because in the typical sword & sorcery fantasy, the swordsman fights evil, and here they are mercenaries — so, Richard needs someone to fight for, even if it’s Alec who picks fights for his own twisted reasons?

      As for Maurice, maybe I’ve glossed it over in memory (and it’s been years), because I felt so sorry for his loneliness, fear, and rejection. You should stick with your memories of it. I don’t judge Maurice for clinging to the closet. It’s hard enough for some people to come out today, without serious prison time at hard labor to fear (as Oscar Wilde suffered). I’m sure my recollections are also colored by the movie version I’ve seen. Maybe I’ll re-read it one of these days.

      I did enjoy your post so much. (And I’m a Joel McHale fan, so your title made me smirk, and read it to myself just like they do on The Soup, for the chicks, man. ;) )

  • [...] lyrical writing, you could do a lot worse than this story. If, however, narrative shortcomings and unlikeable protagonists put you off, stay [...]

  • DarienMoya says:

    I just read this and totally loved it. Cam was a tool, he pissed me off everytime he opened his mouth. I agree the sex was hot, for like 15 seconds I wanted to be a guy. That was just some really hot sex.

    I have to check out the other books, what can I say i really like dicks,lol.


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