Why do messy characters annoy me so much?

Chapter #43: Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the messiest of them all?

Feeling My Shelf is a newsletter about books, life, and, well, life with books. Grab your favorite caffeinated beverage and get comfy. First up, some recent reads.

We Don’t Talk About Carol by Kristen L. Berry
When former crime journalist Sydney stumbles upon a hidden photo of an aunt she never knew she had, she (obviously) has questions. Unfortunately, the two people best suited to answer them (i.e., her grandmother and father) are both deceased, and her mom urges her to let the discovery go. But the “sinister silence” that surrounds her missing aunt intrigues her, and she sets out to uncover what happened. It’s a five-star read that I finished in less than six hours on a cross-country flight. As someone who typically closes her eyes the second the plane is in the clouds, I didn’t even think about sleep. I needed to know what happened, and the twists didn’t disappoint. A must-read debut.

The Best Man: Unfinished Business by Malcom D. Lee with Jayne Allen
I’ve been in love with these characters since I first saw The Best Man, and reading this felt like coming home. The multi-POV story picks up where The Best Man: Final Chapters series (on Peacock!) left off. And let me just say: Harper, Robyn, and Jordan are MESSY. Entertaining, but messy. They’re each trying to navigate big life changes (divorce, quitting a “dream job,” starting over in a different country), with the help of their friends. For the most part, I loved it. My only gripes? I wanted more for Robyn’s story, and some parts felt a bit repetitive/leaned too much into nostalgia. The cliffhanger was interesting, but it also made me roll my eyes a little. I guess this means a sequel is coming…

How to Sell a Romance by Alexa Martin
Alexa Martin has done it again! How to Sell a Romance is a fantastic blend of steam, sarcasm, and surprising emotional depth. Emerson and Luke’s meet-cute is set against the backdrop of, get this, a multi-level-marketing (MLM) convention. I won’t spoil how exactly these two get together, but just know that the entire story had me grinning and turning pages so fast I swear I got paper burn. The MLM plot was entertaining and empathetic. Martin nailed the nuance of how loneliness, not simply ignorance, can draw people into cultish communities. The steam didn’t hurt either.

There’s nothing that annoys me more in books than messy characters.

Well, maybe slow burns, but messy characters are a close second. It’s funny, because until recently, I never stopped to question why this is.

Let’s go back to 2019…

I had just finished Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams and wrote this on my now-defunct blog: “I'll take another annoying protagonist for $200, Alex. Queenie, the ‘heroine’ of our story, wouldn't know how to make the right decision even if it slapped her in the face, which it did multiple times in this story. The dialogue was good. I loved the cultural references. I just wasn't jazzed by such a reckless 20-something-year-old.”

I just wasn’t jazzed by such a reckless 20-something-year-old. What does that even mean, Alexis? Translation: I couldn’t stand her. I stopped and started reading this book multiple times. I almost DNF’d.

If you haven’t read the book or seen the Hulu show, let me clarify: Queenie is messy. Not the cute, quirky kind of messy, either. Stupid messy. Sloppy messy. The kind of messy that ignores every red flag, sets fire to their own life, then blames the smoke on everyone else.

At the time, everyone else was raving about that book. But me? I wished I’d read anything else instead of it.

Although after finishing the adaptation of Queenie earlier this year and seeing her attempts to be better play out visually, I found myself softening.

“Queenie”/Hulu

Queenie was indeed messy, but she was also trying. Contrary to what I seemed to believe in 2019, she knew she needed to do better, but just wasn’t exactly sure how to do it.

I started wondering why I’d been so hard on her in the first place. Why did I react so negatively to a woman who was clearly lost and self-sabotaging? I mean, she did eventually get it sort of together.

A few months ago, I had what felt like the lowest of the low moments. I was sitting on my couch at midnight, crying into a bowl of Special K while rewatching 27 Dresses. Less than 24 hours earlier, I’d had one of the most embarrassing conversations with, ugh, yes, a man. It’s a messy situation. One that I knew was messy when I entered it. The kind of messiness that led to a normally cheery friend sternly saying, “Don’t do it.” Of course, I didn’t listen to her.

This moment, on the heels of being laid off and watching my savings account slowly decline. Like I was already feeling shame, regret, and directionless about my life, and now, yet another gut punch. Even worse: I wanted to text that man again. Hey, since we’re being honest, I still want to right now.

So again, why do those fictional characters and all their bad choices annoy me so much? The writing’s clearly on the wall. They annoy me because sometimes they remind me too much of myself.

“Queenie”/Hulu

The truth is: I try hard to appear put together. Calm. Upbeat. The total opposite of messy. I chase perfection like it’s a requirement for worthiness. But beneath the surface? I am navigating emotional land mines.

Most days, I’m stumbling and making the wrong choice. Replaying conversations in my head where I didn’t say enough things. Said too many things. Doing everything I can just to hold it together without letting anyone see the fraying at the seams.

It feels dumb to admit here, but maybe what I’m reacting to when I get annoyed while reading isn’t those characters’ recklessness. It’s their freedom.

They get to fall apart, to take up space without always being likable or "together,” to repeatedly call that man they know they shouldn’t (again), and still be loved. Still worthy of grace. Still be the main character.

Still a prime candidate for a happy ending.

Reading is supposed to make us more empathetic. But what happens when the person you struggle the most to extend grace to is yourself? What if you don’t believe you deserve that same softness and think that if you mess up, no one will (or should) stick around while you figure things out?

Unfortunately, I don’t know. I’m still trying to unpack those questions, hence the messiness of this entire ramble.

In the meantime, I am working on being kinder to myself. For the mistakes I’ve made, the times I’ve held onto things I should’ve let go of, and the ways I’ve fumbled at work and in friendships. For the bad decisions behind me and the ones I haven’t even gotten to yet.

Maybe, just maybe, the next time, instead of tossing a book to the side (or writing another shitty review) when a character starts to annoy me with their choices, I’ll take a deep breath. Calm my inner critic and remind myself that redemption isn’t just reserved for fictional women.

That, just like Queenie, I get to be messy sometimes, and still have good things happen to me, too.

(Not that it matters, but I’ll also say that I think Queenie, the show, had a better ending than the book, which is probably why I liked it a little more!)

Audre and Bash Are Just Friends by Tia Williams, featuring Audre, the Type A teen first introduced in Seven Days in June, who hires Bash to be her “fun consultant” in a last-ditch effort to spice up her Stanford application.

Against the celebrity memoir industrial complex. Is the decline of reading poisoning our politics? The tote of the summer. A new book explains how Condé Nast went from dominance to decline. When did “too much” become the worst thing a woman could be? The steamy, subversive rise of the summer novel. This year’s trendiest vacation? A reading retreat.

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