How to Write a Weird (and Totally Lovable) Main Character

As a fellow self-declared weirdo, it's important that I represent my fellow oddballs appropriately in my work. Being weird has layers to it, and when done right, writing a weird character can create a memorable and endearing humanlike entity that draws readers.

Here’s how to make that weirdness work for your story—not against it.

Balance quirky external behavior with a solid foundation of interiority

When I first started writing my 17-year-old protagonist, Alodie, on paper, she was overly sassy and quippy—even in her head. That meant that she was trolling everyone around her (including herself) 24/7. And my beta readers were like, "Uh...does she ever have a moment of seriousness?" Which is a completely valid question.

The thing is, just because your character isn't serious all the time doesn't mean they’re shallow. And the last thing I wanted for Alodie was to paint her as a joke! Even goofy characters have raw, real emotions to situations. They have moments of vulnerability.

If your character uses sarcasm or weirdness as a deflection of their true feelings, great! Let the reader in on the interiority, though. Dialogue and actions may highlight their quirky exterior, but it’s the inner monologue that pulls back the curtain on their deeper thoughts and motivations. Use these moments to raise the emotional stakes, create doubt, or give insight into the logic behind their choices.

Balancing a weird and silly exterior with a serious or reflective interior makes the character's weirdness feel earned, not performative. And in the end, this allows your character become real and raw to your reader. And trust me—Alodie got way more fleshed out once I embraced that.

Make their wants make sense—being weird is just the flavor

In one of my earlier drafts, Alodie deflated both of her bike tires completely of air when she was supposed to be on her way to dance class. Beta readers asked, "So...did she just ride to class on flat tires? Why did she do that?" Once again, extremely valid point. And to be honest, I had no point: I just thought it was funny. What was the point other than to be dramatic about her disdain for dance and her narcissistic mother's plans for her life?

The problem with that moment was that Alodie's weirdness didn't make sense: it was weird for the sake of being weird. It was a quirky act with no emotional backbone. And sure, as a teenage protagonist in a Young Adult novel, Alodie could probably get away with a lot of weirdness because the teenager years are known for the dramatic flair. However, the dramatics still need to feel earned and grounded in something real.

In Alodie's case, she needed to be weird in a way that reflected her core wants—finding her supposedly deceased father and carving out her own identity and purpose. Her weirdness should come as a result of how she chases her goal, not why she chases after her goal. Don't create a weird character and then slap a loose reasoning overtop of their odd behavior, saying "Ah, it's just because they're weird. That's why they let all of the zoo animals loose." Dig deeper.

Try this test for yourself: If you stripped away the weird behaviors of your character, would their motivations still hold up? Remember, you want your readers to be emotionally invested in your story, not just amused.

Are they actually weird—or just uniquely quirky?

I find myself using "weird" and "quirky" interchangeably, but the truth is the words mean quite different things when it comes to characters and behaviors.

Think of a weird character as disruptive, often challenging social norms. It’s unpredictable or off-kilter in a way that makes people go, “Wait, what?”

A quirky character may exhibit charming, offbeat traits. It’s the offbeat behavior that raises eyebrows but rarely makes people uncomfortable.

For example, a quirky character collects miniature spoons with spotted zebras on them, whereas a weird character believes that the spoons are time travelers whispering secrets of events to come.

The decision between a weird or quirky character comes down to the tone of your novel and the ultimate goals and motivations of the character; let these drive the balance between the two.

Even weird characters need relatability

Take a moment and think of the weirdest person you've ever encountered. Now ask yourself: What made them stand out? And underneath their behavior, could you sense a driving force behind it?

I've met a lot of people at comic cons and fandom events. I've had varying degrees of unique conversations over the years, and most recently I had a person spontaneously launch into a conversation on three unrelated topics: 1) finding a box of records under their bed that they hadn't seen since they were a teen, 2) wondering how their cat was doing, and 3) all of the celebrities they had met over the years.

It was WEIRD.

And you know what? It was honestly a refreshing and light-filled conversation. I knew in that moment that this person wanted a friend, to create a connection with someone else at the event. Right there was the underlying and very human motivation behind the behavior. Even though the approach was weird, it was relatable. We've all been in a situation in our lives where we just wanted a friend.

When writing characters, the trick is to anchor them in universal feelings: being the outsider, feeling misunderstood, wanting to be seen. Then, take it a step further. Raise the stakes and generate vulnerability by making one of their weird moments cost them something. Consider giving them a fellow weirdo or an accepting found family—someone who gets them. Let readers see themselves in the oddity.

Consider the protagonist’s age—it shapes their weirdness

Teenagers are a goofy bunch, and also terrifying. As an adult, nothing now terrifies me more than the thought of being surrounded by a group of teenagers. They're unpredictable, sassy, brutally honest, and weird.

But their weirdness is different from a middle-age person's weirdness, or an elderly person's weirdness.

For example, a teenager's weirdness might come from identity exploration, rebellion, or awkward self-expression, whereas an old person's weirdness could be shaped by loss, trauma, or long-term disconnection. Coming-of-age weird is often loud and visible; adult weird can be quieter, more internalized.

Think about your character's age and where they've been in life to determine what traits best fit them. Age can be a great determiner of how your character's weirdness develops and how the world reacts to it.

Go Forth and Embrace the Weird

So go out there and write the beautiful, weird, authentic characters we are all craving in stories. I want to laugh with them, cry with them, be WEIRD with them. And I can't wait to see how you do it.