Project Flaw: Conceit of arrogance

Arrogance is believing you're good. No. Better. 

It's a type of confidence that can be inherent - a trait carried down the family line or acquired from an age of people fluffing up your feathers. 

It is the belief that you're special, and let's face it: Everyone is special. 

There are few stories out there that don't have "special" protagonists: Enviable skills. Royalty. The one that inherits. The war hero. The face of a rebellion. The one whose destiny has been fated.   The intelligent one. The unique one. The youngest. The oldest. The kindest. The forgotten one. The outcast. The chosen.

We're all a bunch of special snowflakes really. The difference?

Being arrogant, you know that you're special.

You don't need anyone's help.
You're certain you've made it to where you are completely on your own.
You know you're amazing.
You think everyone's running on your time.
You think your word is law.
You're painfully smug when proven right.
Everyone lives for stories about you.
You feel that it is everyone's duty to be outraged when you are (especially in regards to the bad reviews you get).
You don't believe you have anything to learn - and if you do, you don't think anyone should teach it to you because you know better.
You're almost never wrong.
Anyone who says otherwise is the one that's wrong.

The thing with arrogant people is that they're probably the most insecure people you'll ever meet.

They fixate on people's issues with them, usually spinning it into a personal attack on themselves even if it's a purely work/story related. They'll be offended, defensive and downright annoying when they "decide" they don't want to fight anymore (mainly because they can see that no one is supporting their argument). In the end, they want validation just like everyone else, and the only reason they act the way they do is because they've pushed their "fake it until you make it" mindset too far and might actually believe that they're above everyone else - experience and knowledge be damned.

Sometimes, however, they don't realize they're being arrogant, they just come off that way.

I know when I was younger all I wanted was for people to notice and acknowledge me (see the previous post), and following the "fake it until you make it" mindset, I came off more confident than I felt. The fact that I might have been arrogant as a child didn't occur to me, I just felt like a counterfeit and it pushed me more and more to pretend that I could do everything on my own to compensate.

Hermione Granger from Harry Potter is an example as well. Though she's clearly the brightest witch of her generation, at the beginning of the series as well as during, she came off as a serious smart ass. She was difficult to like for some people, and was a downright pain to everyone else in her year.

Unintentional of course.

She was very conscious of her position as a muggleborn wizard which I think was her reason for wanting to do so well (and show it by constantly raising her hand in class) - she wanted to prove that she deserved to be where she was, and that she wasn't just lucky to have magic to spirit her away from her muggle life.

Whatever her reasoning, she still came off as arrogant which of course meant people didn't warm up to her quickly.

Arrogance is a flaw that an individual has difficulty to recognize in themselves, and even in their characters.

It adds a layer of complexity that we as writers, don't have to think too much of (that's how Super Strong Mary Sues are made you know) and provides a reasonable flaw for a character. Plus, it's an added growth point for the character to try and rectify in the story so technically it's a pretty great flaw.

What's interesting is that arrogance isn't borne from being a horrible person who doesn't bathe, it's from trying too hard to make it seem like you're okay; it is the outcome of being in denial.

Project Flaw: Why perfection isn't healthy

Everyone has flaws. Real people and fictional characters alike. Flaws are present in every aspect of our lives if we pay close enough attention.

Flaws have that effect of building character in something. If something were perfect, it wouldn't be particularly interesting, would it?

In stories, character flaws are important.

They make readers able to relate, understand and see things through the eyes of the character in charge of the tale.

But can the same be said for normal, every day, real life people?

I like to think I'm honest with myself. I mean, if I can't be honest with me, who can I be honest with?

Following the vein of the pilot episode of Mind Games (even though the show was cancelled, but that has nothing to do with this mm'kay?) I am going to be admitting just a few of my flaws as a person and more importantly as a writer:

I'm a weenie.
I hate making characters suffer.
I'm an idealist.
I'll only take a happily-ever-after.
I'm a romantic.
I'm afraid of 'breaking' characters, and not liking them if they have certain flaws or realizations I don't agree with even though I came up with it.
There's a part of my brain that comes up with stuff even I'm afraid to acknowledge and that I can't seem to accept as my own.
I'm selfish.
I'm arrogant.
I like to think I know best.
I'm easily offended.
I'm sensitive.
I can't compartmentalize.
I'm inconsistent.
I'm easily overwhelmed.
I'm easy to diagnose myself with depression.
I'm easily influenced when its the right person or the right words said.
I'm stubborn.
I lack confidence.
I feel overwhelmingly insecure.
Seeks validation.
I procrastinate.
I'm indecisive about practically everything.
I like to dream about a life rather than actually having one.
I'm afraid, terrified of moving out of my comfort zone.
I hate feeling lonely.
I don't like the ugly truth.

The point of all this, as it was mentioned in the Mind Games pilot, is to be able to open myself up and show that I have nothing to hide. The dangerous side of this is that I am also open to either ridicule or acceptance by others, and the question of me being "perfect" has been shattered long before anyone has even gotten to know me.

Not only from a writing perspective, but from real life situations I've always been told to "fake it until you make it". Confidence goes a long way especially when a tough skin is required to brave the trolls, negative responses and the like. Pretending that you've got it handled (via Olivia Pope) is a way of getting people to trust in you and your abilities and becomes a point from where you try to prove that you deserve this trust, or rather, expectation you have inadvertently put on yourself.

"Faking it", however, is problematic.

We get arrogant. We get closed minded. We get negative about other people. We only do things that make us feel good. All in an attempt to be our version of perfect.

And perfect is all a load a bull.

The more someone pretends to be perfect, the more they forget who they actually are.
The more someone closes themselves off to feeling things that make them uncomfortable in order to maintain that perfection, the more they limit themselves from experiences they can actually grow from.
The more someone craves perfection the more unhappy they are with everything they do and everything around them.

Until one day when that person decides they can't retain it, can't achieve it, can't emulate it, can't do it.
And then their whole world falls down.

This is different from wanting to do your best. This is about growth, and what it takes to get there.