it's not about whether I like a character, male or female, but whether I can care about what happens to them

Exactly, but that highlights what I think is the subtle confusion in the post/thread. It’s conflating “likeable” with “sympathetic”. One can be one, and not the other. It’s not that common, granted; most stories I can think of off the top of my head, much of the character’s sympathetic traits are related to, and/or draw power from, the fact that I genuinely like the character. That is, if you like a character, you tend to go a bit easier on them, or at least give them more time before ditching them for their unsympathetic actions.

Actually, the first time I can recall reading a story with my thinking-cap on and really seeing the contrast was in a fantasy novel, The Cipher (Diana Francis) — it’s fantasy, with undertone/side-plot of romance, but what made it stand out is that the heroine is sympathetic but not very likeable, while the hero is charming and definitely likeable… and (until he atones) not sympathetic at all. It makes for a strange if wonderful and rare tension in the storyline, but I recall Francis mentioning on her blog the number of reviews she got where readers either loved or hated one (or both) lead protags. Reading those reviews myself, it seemed as though readers were doing the same there, as here: confusing “empathizing” with “sympathizing”, to some degree.

Me, I don’t mind if a character is unlikeable. Being pretty much unlikeable myself, I appreciate a story where the heroine (or hero) is unlikeable and yet still ends up happy. What I can’t stand is when a character is unsympathetic; if I can’t empathize with his/her motivations, then it doesn’t matter how charming the character is, the story’s still headed for a DNF.

Louisa said:

…because I think perfection is boring and intimidating enough that it's really hard, for me, to like and relate to characters with no flaws.

I so agree! And extrapolating, what about the physical perfection or not of a character? Is the odd physical ‘flaw’ not acceptable? Is it wrong for a heroine to be attractive rather than drop-dead gorgeous?

In fact, I liked Lucy better than either Sophia (oh, I’m so beautiful and so very rich! Woe is me! ugh) or Bel, neither of whom I found very appealing or relatable. But I enjoy Tessa Dare’s writing and she made me like the books anyway.

Sometimes I enjoy the story even when I don’t particularly like or relate to the characters, and that includes both heroines and heroes (although I loved Gray, and that helped). In fact, some of my favorite romance novels have characters I really don’t like at all — To Have and to Hold by Patricia Gaffney comes to mind. Absolutely appalling “hero,” but that is still one fabulous book. Give me an “unlikable” character who is interesting over one who is “likable” but bland and boring any day.

I enjoy flawed heroines. Flaws make characters realistic, so I don't believe that flaws in-and-of-themselves make characters unlikable. As Jane said, “unlikable” is very subjective. It has more to do with the reader's personal hot-buttons.

I think Claire from the Outlander series is unlikable, but to many she's one of the best heroines ever. I love the way Eve Dallas is so contrary in the In Death series, but I know others think she is too brash. One reader's trash is another's treasure.

And just because I find a heroine unlikable doesn't mean I won't enjoy her book. For example, I dislike Zoe from Nora Roberts' Key of Valor a lot, but I am partial to Brad and like the book overall. My keeper shelf has many books where the heroines would never make my personal favorites list. And like Meljean said, I don't want to be the heroine, and I don't want to be her friend. I have never understood the attraction to the whole “Mary Sue” heroine thing.

My keeper shelf also has books where I like the heroine and not the hero. And books where I start off not liking the heroine, but by the end of the book I have changed my mind.

The one thing that consistently makes a heroine unlikable to me is when she is TSTL. I read a lot of romantic suspense and a big pet peeve of mine is when the author has the otherwise intelligent heroine do something stupid just to move the story along. Unfortunately, it is almost always the heroine and rarely the hero.

The bottom line is that I want the same thing from a heroine as I do a hero: a multi-layered character who will keep me turning the page to discover more about them and follow on their journey.

I’m not sure what it says about me, but I tend to identify with flawed heroines (my own and other writers) more than sweet, virtuous ones. When I started writing traditional Regencies with my mom years ago, a lot of friends said I was like Philippa, the quiet, novelist heroine of our second book, The Courting of Philippa. But actually I identified a lot more with the sharp-tongued Nicola in our fourth book, The Counterfeit Heart. I’m always fascinated by readers’ reactions to Mélanie in my current series. I had some friends tell me I had to soften her when I was writing Secrets of a Lady/Daughter of the Game (I didn’t). Some readers have written to me that they find it hard to forgive her, even though they enjoy the books. Others get frustrated with the hero, Charles, for not forgiving her sooner. To me, that’s what makes her interesting to write about.

But I also avoid immature, selfish women in my social circle because there is really only so much eye-rolling I can do before the headache sets in. I don’t want to read about heroines like that, either. I can’t root for them in real life, and I can’t root for them in a book. It’s subjective, though. One woman’s immaturity is another woman’s naivety.

Some of my favorite prickly heroines are Min from Bet Me, Lilith from Demon Angel, and Miki from Go Fetch. I wouldn’t define any of them as traditionally “likeable” characters. Big personalities, big issues, and big mouths; I rooted for them all the way to their happy endings. My absolute favorite thing about those books and those heroines is that they didn’t have to become “likeable” to get their happy endings. Their heroes love them because of their flaws, not despite them.

I experience heroes differently. I’ll admit to loving a good alpha hero, but what I want from a hero is the best, most interesting compliment to my heroine. I love Kleypas’s St Vincent because he really pops against Evie as a heroine. I didn’t find him that interesting in Lilian’s book, but hubba hubba in Evie’s book. Ultimately the hero has to root for the heroine as much as I do, so in some ways I hold the hero to a higher standard.

@A:

I think you're supposed to loathe Cathy and Heathcliff. Their love is so selfish it destroys not only themselves but the people around them. The redemptive part of Wuthering Heights is in the second generation. Both Hareton and Catherine have a giving sort of love rather than a consuming love.

The reason I can enjoy Cathy and Heathcliff -’ even as I do not admire them -’ is because the author doesn't hold them out as being right or justified in their selfishness.

Likari, I agree with your perspective, but I have had knock-down arguments with C/H “groupies” about their love. Sorry, if Heathcliff were my husband, relative, or neighbor, he would not fascinate me; I’d be filing criminal charges against him and persuading his close kin to have him interdicted.

Point? I want to see how things turn out for everyone — and that’s my definition of good storytelling!

You're right! Miss Scarlett has nothing on Beatrice Lacey. I hated that witch, but found myself actually weeping by the end of the book. Maybe we all have an internal bad girl that we wish would be redeemed.

This is such an interesting comment. I loved “Wideacre.” Beatrice Lacey “reached” me because, though her actions were quite horrible, her motives and drives were understandable to me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m convinced she was absolutely antisocial. But I liked her story.

As for the ending…I liked it. It made sense.

Stupidity is something else. I hate stupid heroines. A little naive, okay. Makes mistakes, fine. Runs downstairs into the basement when she should be running out the front door … it depends on her reasons. But out-and-out stupid? See book hit wall.

ETA: @GrowlyCub:

As somebody else said, for me it's not about whether I like a character, male or female, but whether I can care about what happens to them. They do not need to be perfect, they can make mistakes, but the author must be able to make me care about what happens to them.

This is it for me, too. I don’t want to be the heroine, and I don’t want to be her friend. It’s not whether I like her as a person (although that doesn’t hurt) but whether I care about what happens to her.

I have liked many an “unlikable” heroine – Zenia, from The Dream Hunter, for instance. But I still feel bad when I don’t like a heroine. I think that I may be guilty of being harder on heroines in some situations, if only because as a romance reader I’ve been basically conditioned to expect a certain amount of jerkiness from a hero. Though I have seen a change in the past decade in the character of the “typical” hero, and I think it’s generally been a positive one. In the past, I sometimes felt that “alpha” (read “jerk”) heroes were so ubiquitous that I pretty much had to put up with them, or I wouldn’t have had anything to read.

I pretty much find that a good writer employing good characterization can make any character at least a little sympathetic to me, if they are so inclined. That’s one reason that I don’t have hot-button topic no-nos like adultery – it really all depends on how its presented.

The worst sin from my standpoint as a reader is to write a character that I find unbelievable. They have to be genuine. They have to behave in ways that seem true to who they are. They do not have to be nice, but there has to be something redeeming about them (some way I can identify with them)…otherwise I’m not that interested in finding out what happens to them.

For me, a perfect character is inherently unbelievable. Everyone has flaws. No one is perfect. Some are more flawed than others.

I agree with others who have said it's not about whether I like a character, but whether I can care about what happens. There have been numerous times when I like the hero of the book, but not the heroine (Nora Roberts' Key of Valor for example, I adored Brad but couldn't stand Zoe) and vice versa where I like the heroine, but not the hero. And there are books when I like both the hero and heroine, but their story just doesn't engage me for some reason.

And as Jane said, likable is so subjective. I did not like Claire in Outlander, but to others she's one of the best heroines ever. Whereas, I love Eve's contradictory nature in the In Death series, but others feel she's too brash.

I dislike heroines who act TSTL. I read a lot of romantic suspense and do not like it when the author has the heroine do something stupid just to move the plot along (and it's almost always the heroine who does, rarely the hero). I don't like it when characters spend the whole book dealing with a big misunderstanding which they could easily solve by having a two-minute conversation.

But it is difficult to say I don't like a book because of an “unlikable” heroine. There are plenty of books on my keeper shelf with heroines who wouldn't make my personal favorites list, but where I liked the hero and the story enough to make up for that fact. Just as there are plenty of books where I started off not liking the heroine, but change my mind about her by the end of the book. For me, I don't have to necessarily identify with the heroine or think I would make the same choices if I were in her shoes. I'm not a fan of “Mary Sue” heroines and don't read books trying to put myself in the heroine's place.

The bottom line is I want the same basic thing in a heroine as I do a hero: a character with some depth whom I will want to turn the page to keep reading about.

I think it’s difficult to have a universally liked heroine when she has an arc which doesn’t relate to her evolving sexuality. When she struggles against some internal obstacle that stops her loving the hero and repeatedly fails to make that leap, some readers (who hopefully are already in love with the hero) get frustrated. They want her to get over it, already and can’t she see what a great guy this hero is? I’d be interested to know what percentage of universally loved heroines realize their love for the hero long before the hero admits to his. I’d be willing to bet it’s pretty high.

My last heroine, Sarah, in Wicked Little Game, provoked strong reactions in readers. I heard a lot of “I wanted to slap her sometimes, but I understood how hard it was for her to trust again.” I don’t think it’s possible for me to write a heroine with a view to making her likeable. They just come out on the page as they live in my head.