Self-Insert Characters & Writing the Best Story You Can

Like many other bookworms, my love of literature was once incentivized by ice cream and pizza parties. Back in elementary school (and, more specifically, before A Series of Unfortunate Events caught my interest when I was in second grade), I’d read the same books over and over – I encountered too many simple stories that just couldn’t appease my hunger. Finding the right books was a struggle, even as a kid. Nowadays, I’m definitely more versed in what appeals to me… and what doesn’t. And speaking of what doesn’t resonate, I recently noticed a trend that can rip anyone out of a story – self-insert characters. 

I’m in a book club with some of my very coolest friends, and we were recently weighing which story to select for the upcoming month. We perused sample pages online when one member called out that he was not interested in one book for a very specific reason: it felt like the author was writing about himself, and he instantly couldn’t get into the story as a result. So, like any good book club, we discussed this phenomenon. And I took notes! If you’re a writer who’s pouring a piece of yourself into a story, you’ll want to hear what signs you should look for and common pitfalls to avoid.

The Over-Idealized ProtagonistPhoto by Designecologist

There’s a difference between writing for the story and writing for emotional validation. Hard stop. Sure, when we sit down to write, there’s a fantasy in our mind that we’re looking to bring to life. However, nuanced characters should have different reactions than we might, as life is full of diverse personalities and unique perspectives. 

When we put too much of ourselves in a story, we risk allowing the story to bend around the character’s feelings rather than conflict or consequence. Stories thrive on tension. Well-crafted stories should have flawed characters who make mistakes, get called out, cause their own problems, or aren’t always “good.”

The over-idealized protagonist can lead to a major story flaw that isn’t necessarily top of mind when you’re in the weeds of writing – it can cause your secondary characters to feel flat. This is because a protagonist with very few flaws must be surrounded by a group that praises them, supports them never-endingly, or desires them. When these issues compact, you risk writing a world that feels less like a living place and more like a stage set.

As a reader, secondary characters tend to be my favorites. If I don’t click with your main character and don’t have a dynamic supporting cast to invest in, I’m not likely to keep reading. The same is true with most readers – we need something juicy to sink our teeth into. A plastic apple might look the same as a real one, but it’s glaringly obvious which is a tastier snack. Treat your book the same way: make it yummy so your readers keep coming back for seconds.

Being Afraid To Get Messy

Creating a well-crafted story means you can’t be too precious with your work. You’ve got to kill your darlings, darlin’. Even if you find the story good, we’re out here striving to satisfy and hook readers above all else. It’s worth taking the time to poke holes in your own story, tear it up, and find places where pieces you enjoy might break immersion or slow down the pacing.

Authors often protect self-insert characters from meaningful consequences. Criticism, flaws, and failures are often softened, or worse… avoided entirely. This robs the story of stakes and tension – readers crave characters who struggle, make mistakes, and sometimes earn their victories. Essentially, readers need characters to root for or against. If nothing truly bad can happen to your protagonist, your readers don’t have a reason to invest in them. Your reader becomes a bug on the windshield rather than a passenger in the car who’s jamming to the same songs as you. As the great Hilary Duff one said, “Let the rain fall down and wake your readers’ dreams. Let it wash away their sanity. They want to feel the thunder. They want to scream.”

Photo by Vika Glitter

Essentially, don’t protect your characters’ emotional states. Let them wallow in despair. Let them feel pain so deeply that your readers also feel it. Allow them to experience all the highs and lows of love in a deeply, horribly human way. Storytelling is human at the core, so don’t be afraid to challenge your characters. If they’re well-crafted, they’ll be able to handle it.

Wish Fulfillment & Breaking the Fantasy

When you don’t get messy, when you’re too precious with your work, you risk running into something known as wish fulfillment. That’s an instance where the author pushes the characters toward what they wish would happen, even if it’s not realistic for the setting or stakes. This often comes across as self-indulgent rather than creating something for the reader, which is essential if you wish to stay afloat as a writer.

Photo by Alina Vilchenko

This type of indulgence can often cause a story to become predictable. Think of the typical fantasy heroine – beautiful (though she doesn’t really know it), misunderstood, moral and emotionally pure… You can already guess that she’s going to meet a handsome prince or knight in shining armor who finally sees her. These types of stories reaffirm the main character’s worth, which becomes a bit exhausting to read. When you know what’s going to happen, the element of surprise dissipates. The ability to delight disappears. 

This is why breaking the fantasy of a self-insert character is so essential. It’s okay to add a piece of yourself to your story. We’re human, and writing is art… It’s bound to happen. But removing ourselves from the story as much as possible, allowing our characters to exist in all their messy, complicated glory? That’s where the magic really happens. And it’s easy to do if you know where to start.

Focus On Aspects, Not Personality

As a bit of background, I want to tell you about my book writing journey. I half-wrote three books in middle school, but I didn’t have the emotional capacity, focus, or skills to finish them. The summer before I started ninth grade, I wrote my first full manuscript. 

It was bad. The words “epic fail” both apply to the book and appeared in it. Nevertheless, I turned it into a trilogy. Then I wrote a duology inspired by Greek myth, which was also bad. Then I started focusing on much more serious books, allowing them to simmer as I crafted a complicated world and cast for each. Industrialized was started around that time, and I spent hours crafting character analyses, plot webs, and more. And you know where it all started? As I was watching the Egyptian Revolution unfold, I wondered what I would do in that circumstance. I determined that I’d simply leave. I’d probably do something goofy like become a stereotypical pirate, collecting tattoos along my travels as I drank and sang shanties into the salt-kissed sea breeze. And, naturally, I’d probably still be a belly dancer, because I wouldn’t abandon my hobbies just because I became a pirate. The concept was so ridiculous that I realized I had to use it in a story. I invented Saida Merymut, allowing her to embody those imagined aspects of myself while giving her a unique background and totally different personality from my own. Then? I made her a minor character and crafted a main character to serve as her foil.

Out of all my stories, she’s the only character who’s remotely close to me. She’s also extremely different by design – the similarities end at those generalized aspects. Would we get along? Absolutely. But she’d probably tell me to hold myself accountable, and I’d probably tell her to stop talking down to others. There would be natural friction between us because we’re not even close to the same.

Basing a character off of aspects of yourself rather than yourself can help combat the Mary Sue effect. Even if there’s a piece of you in a character, it’s important to emotionally detach and treat them as a distinctly different person. Let them be selfish, make bad decisions, hurt other characters, and learn hard lessons – even if that’s not something you would do.

Create a Well-Rounded World

The easiest reminder you can give yourself when you’re building up your cast? Not everyone exists to support the protagonist. Create a character web to understand how their flaws, motivations, fears, and desires not only shape them, but impact their entire circle. There should be some natural tension – if one person’s favorite food is cheese but they’re lactose intolerant, their romantic partner may be annoyed that any cheese-topped outing is slowed down by bathroom breaks and tummy aches. (I know, it’s a stupid example. But friction comes from the most mundane moments, in many cases!)

Photo by RDNE Stock project

Secondary characters should have their own wants, flaws, personality quirks, and reasons to support or work against your protagonist(s). When side characters feel real, the whole world feels real.

Lean On Alpha & Beta Readers

The very best writers not only allow their early drafts to be critiqued – they encourage it. Alpha readers (those you tap in during drafting), and beta readers (the first readers to really “see” the whole closer-to-publishable story) are especially valuable when it comes to refining your craft. Why? They aren’t inside your head. They only know what’s on the page.

Encourage your early readers to be honest, and allow yourself to be a safe space for the critiques they offer. After all, comments like “this is taking me out of the story” and “this reaction feels cliche and unrealistic” are not an attack on you. It’s a piece of critical insight: your imagined fantasy isn’t translating into shared emotion.

Ignoring that feedback doesn’t just hurt the draft… it can trap you in a cycle where your stories only work for yourself, not for readers. Every serious writer has to learn that growth starts where your ego ends. The bravest thing you can do as a writer is let your work – and your characters – stand apart from you. To succeed or fail on their own.

This process might hurt, to be honest. It’s natural to feel defensive when someone critiques your work, especially if the character is close to your heart. But remember that all writers, even traditionally published authors, receive critical feedback. Growth means learning to see it not as an attack, but as an invitation to go deeper. When you feel that defensive flare, pause. Let the feedback sit for a few days. Distance lets you read it more objectively and recognize its value. Critiques make us stronger. They make us better and keep us from plateauing. 

Photo by picjumbo.com

And when you’re addressing critiques, don’t just patch the surface. Follow the critique down to its root. Sometimes, fixing a flaw in one scene means reworking the emotional arc of the whole story. That may sound scary, but it’s a good thing. That’s how good stories become great stories. Ask multiple readers for input early on. If one person flags an issue, listen. If three people flag the same issue? It’s real, even if it hurts.

Nailing a Good Story Arc

Self-inserts aren’t automatically bad. Some of the greatest characters in literature carry heavy shades of their authors. Remember seeing Dante walk through Hell? Of course you do. It’s potent, and it’s because his self-insert was thoughtfully bland to allow the greater world to shine. Kim Possible isn’t that interesting without Ron Stoppable or Dr. Drakken – rich worlds require layers, and if you incorporate those, you’re golden.

However, remember that great storytelling demands separation. Allow yourself to make your character vulnerable, flawed, and imperfect. Write your heart out! But when all is said and done, ask, “Am I protecting this character, or allowing the story to shine?” 
Truth be told, readers can tell. And the authors who listen to them, who write for them, are the authors whose stories are worth reading time and time again.

The post Self-Insert Characters & Writing the Best Story You Can first appeared on Nikki Elizabeth.