How To Make Likable Characters With the Character Mixing Board
The Character Sliders That Fix Flat Protagonists
How you make characters likable? And more interestingly, how could you make them less likable?
The most useful craft advice gives you control, which means you can choose the effect you want and reproduce it on purpose.
That is what Writing Excuses offers in this connected set of discussions, which frames character engagement as a mixing console with three sliders you can move up or down. The model is not meant to replace your character creation process. It is meant to help you troubleshoot characters who are not doing the job the story needs.
Here are the four conversations this post draws from, linked for listening and reference:
Why a “mixing board” beats vague advice
The core insight is simple. Readers stay engaged when a character feels compelling on at least one strong axis, and the show highlights three that repeatedly do the work: sympathy, competence, and proactivity. The hosts treat each as a fader on a mixing console, which means you can raise one, lower another, and still get a readable character depending on the role the character plays.
That framing matters because it stops you from chasing a single ideal. A villain can be low sympathy and still be magnetic if competence and proactivity stay high. A sweet side character can be high sympathy even when they lack competence or initiative. A protagonist can start reactive and grow into proactivity as the story forces choices. The point is not that every slider must be high. The point is that you can choose a mix and then adjust when the story drags.
Slider one: Sympathy that makes readers root
The show uses “sympathy” as the reader’s felt connection and willingness to invest, which often overlaps with what people casually call likability. The helpful move is that the discussion is not only about maximizing sympathy. It is about deciding how sympathetic you want the character to be, then applying techniques that reliably raise or lower that response.
Here are the craft levers they call out.
Control narrative distance
When you bring the reader closer to the character’s interior experience, the character tends to read as more sympathetic. When you pull back and observe from farther away, sympathy tends to cool. This gives you a clean dial you can turn through viewpoint choices and how tightly you stay inside the character’s perceptions.
Use humor and self awareness
Humor can mask unsympathetic behavior because it signals charm and timing, and self awareness signals honesty. A character who knows they are being petty or stubborn often feels more human than a character who is petty while insisting they are righteous. The show treats this as a practical sympathy booster you can deploy without changing the plot.
Show weakness, vulnerability, or a visible struggle
A character who fails, bleeds, or loses something important gives the reader a reason to hope. Weakness can be emotional, physical, social, or moral, and it still works when the character remains prickly because the reader can see a cost being paid.
Use relationships to “borrow” sympathy
One of the fastest ways to raise sympathy is to surround the character with people whose reactions shape the reader’s reaction. If a trusted character cares about the protagonist, or if a side character responds with warmth and loyalty, the reader often follows. The episode treats this as a legitimate tool, especially early when you want attachment fast.
The subtle warning is worth keeping. If you crank competence and proactivity too high without counterweights, you can accidentally reduce sympathy because the character feels invulnerable, always right, or distant. The mixing board mindset forces you to watch the tradeoffs instead of being surprised by them later.
Slider two: Competence that earns respect without killing tension
Competence is the reader’s perception that a character can handle themselves in some domain. The show treats competence as a powerful engagement lever because readers tend to enjoy watching capable people solve problems, and competence often increases rooting interest as a side effect.
Competence also creates a predictable structural risk. If the protagonist can solve everything easily, the story loses pressure. The episode responds with several practical ways to tune competence so it stays satisfying while conflict stays alive.
Let competence vary by domain
A character can be highly competent in one arena and shaky in another. That variation creates fair friction and prevents the character from feeling like a universal master key. The show specifically highlights the importance of moving characters between domains because the shift reveals weaknesses and forces adaptation.
Show failure and learning, not only success
Competence becomes more interesting when it comes with process and cost. Showing a failure, a limitation, or a misread keeps the character human while setting up earned improvement. It also preserves tension because the reader cannot assume easy wins.
Raise stakes and strengthen opposition
Competent antagonists protect your story from collapsing under a competent hero. The episode calls out raising stakes and using capable opposition because skill stops being a shortcut and starts being a requirement. That keeps competence from flattening your plot.
Provide context that reframes what “competent” means
Sometimes a character looks incompetent because the reader lacks context, or because the story has not established the difficulty of the task. Competence is partly perception. You can adjust it by clarifying what counts as success, what obstacles exist, and what expertise costs.
The homework assignment here is a great drill because it forces contrast. The show suggests taking a very minor side character and making them hyper competent at something. That exercise trains you to signal skill quickly and to use competence as a character hook.
Slider three: Proactivity that makes your protagonist feel like the engine
Proactivity is the slider that determines whether the character drives the story through choices and action, or whether the character mostly watches events happen and reacts. The proactivity discussion is where the show coins a memorable verb, “protag,” meaning the protagonist chooses, plans, acts, and spends effort to push forward.
This matters because low proactivity creates a common failure mode, which the show calls the “villain problem.” If the hero only acts because the villain is ruining things, the villain becomes the true driver of the plot. The fix is not that the hero must always be in control. The fix is that the hero must have agency that shows up as decisions and attempts, even when plans fail.
Here are several ways the episode suggests raising proactivity in a practical, scene level way.
Give the protagonist a want early
A protagonist who wants something creates direction before the external plot forces motion. Want can be small and still work, as long as it creates choice and effort. The episode emphasizes that wanting something at the start gives you a baseline of agency you can build on.
Let them make plans, even when plans collapse
Planning is a form of agency because it shows a mind trying to shape the future. The show encourages letting protagonists plan, then letting the world disrupt those plans, because the attempt still reads as proactive.
Make stakes personal and costly
If the protagonist can walk away emotionally, proactivity stays low. When stakes become personal, leaving becomes its own choice with consequences, and choosing to stay increases proactivity. The episode frames this as one of the fastest ways to move the slider.
Remove resources and force decisions
When a character loses allies, tools, or safety nets, they often must step forward and decide. That forced decision making can raise proactivity quickly, which helps if your story has many strong side characters who risk doing the protagonist’s job for them.
The homework drill is beautifully specific. Tie your protagonist up so they cannot move, then make them protag their way forward using only dialogue. That drill trains you to create agency through mind, voice, persuasion, and choice, even in a physically constrained scene.
A simple revision workflow that uses the sliders
The real payoff of this model is revision. When a scene feels flat, you can diagnose it with three questions.
Is the reader rooting for this character right now
Does the character feel capable in the domain the scene demands
Is the character making choices that move the situation forward
Pick the slider that is lowest for the scene’s goal, raise it using one technique, then reread while watching for tradeoffs. Sometimes raising competence makes the character feel less vulnerable, which means you may need to raise sympathy through weakness or humor. Sometimes raising proactivity makes the character feel abrasive, which means you may need a moment of self awareness or relational warmth. The mixing board mindset keeps you in control because it turns “the character is not working” into “this slider is too low for this scene.”
The best part: these are adjustable on purpose
The reason this set of discussions sticks is that it gives you a language for intentional design. Instead of chasing likability as a single goal, you can build characters with a chosen mix, then revise with precision when the story slows. Sympathy helps readers bond. Competence helps readers respect. Proactivity makes the character feel like the engine. When you can tune those three elements deliberately, you can write protagonists who keep pages turning even when they are flawed, difficult, or in over their heads.