How To Avoid Writing “Plot Dumb” Characters

Stories come alive through the mistakes characters make—but only when they feel earned.

Welcome to Craft Corner! I’m very excited about this new section of Once Upon A Draft, where I’ll dig into the craft of storytelling, exploring techniques and challenges that make stories work (or fall apart).

Sometimes, these are lessons I’m actively navigating in my own fiction writing. Other times, they come from what I see as a book ghostwriter and developmental editor—those behind-the-scenes roles where I get to study what makes a character compelling, a scene tense, or a plot sing.

Today, I’m tackling a common question: How do you let your main character make mistakes (because mistakes drive great drama) without making them seem dumb?

Because here’s the thing: readers get frustrated when a character feels too stupid to live. But they’ll gladly follow a flawed, smart, and deeply human character who messes up for all the right reasons.

When mistakes make characters memorable—not maddening

Have you ever read a book where the main character does something so boneheaded you want to throw the book across the room?

Yet, in real life, smart people make bad decisions all the time. Stress, fear, pride, love, ego, impatience can all lead to spectacularly poor choices. The key isn’t to avoid mistakes, but to make sure those mistakes are believable and character-driven, not lazy plot devices.

Here are 7 ways to write mistakes that make characters more memorable, without making them feel plain ol’ dumb.

1. Give their mistakes emotional logic

People don’t always make rational choices, especially when their hearts are involved. Your character might ignore obvious warning signs not because they’re clueless, but because they want something so badly—love, safety, revenge, redemption—that they’ll risk it all.

Example: Instead of, “She didn’t check if the door was locked,” try, “Her hands were shaking too hard, and all she could think about was getting to her friend before it was too late.” The second version shows urgency and emotion, not stupidity.

2. Show competence elsewhere

Readers forgive mistakes when they’ve already seen the character be clever, skilled, or insightful. A single bad decision stands out as human rather than defining the character as dim-witted.

Tip: After a mistake, give them a moment of triumph or a quick-thinking save to balance the scales.

3. Let circumstances cloud judgment

Even the smartest people make terrible calls under pressure. High stakes, bad information, or fatigue can justify an error.

Example: A detective overlooks a key clue not because they’re incompetent, but because they’re trying to keep a witness alive amid chaos.

4. Tie mistakes to their personal traits and history

A mistake feels authentic when it stems from who the character is—their backstory, values, or deep-seated fears. Show how their past experiences, personality quirks, or coping mechanisms shape the way they trip up.

Example: A character who grew up having to rely on themselves might turn down help even when it’s offered—not out of obliviousness or pride, but because accepting help feels like weakness to them.

5. Make mistakes costly and transformative

A good mistake hurts. It creates consequences that the character must face and, ideally, learn from. Watching them grow after failure is far more satisfying than watching them succeed without struggle.

6. Show their thought process

Readers will accept a flawed decision if they understand the character’s reasoning. Let us into their head for a moment: show the conflict, the rationale, the gut instinct that leads them astray.

7. Avoid “plot dumb” behaviour

Nothing breaks immersion faster than a character who makes an obviously stupid choice just to keep the plot going. If you need them to do something reckless, make sure the why is clear.

Even a line like, “I know this is a bad idea, but if I wait for backup, he’ll die,” is enough to turn a dumb move into a noble risk.

On the page: When a great premise meets “plot dumb” moments

I’m reading a sci-fi mystery/romance with a stellar premise: a talented hacker—let’s call her Sara—must pretend to be in a romantic relationship with a stranger to qualify for residency on a space station after Earth becomes uninhabitable.

Sara is likable, resourceful, and clearly intelligent, except when the romance plot kicks in. Suddenly, she makes careless mistakes (like failing to prepare relationship answers with her fake boyfriend before a critical dinner) that feel out of step with her established competence.

The problem isn’t that Sara makes mistakes. It’s that the mistakes don’t believably come from anything human and relatable, like fear, pride, or panic. Instead, they read like convenient plot devices, inserted to create tension and drama without anchoring in her personality or backstory.

Because Sara is otherwise so capable, these moments stand out even more. And with little shown of her thought process or emotional stakes, the missteps lack weight, growth, or meaning.

This underscores a key point: mistakes are only compelling when they grow out of character and emotion. Without that grounding, they frustrate rather than intrigue—and lose your reader’s trust.

Smart characters do dumb things all the time

Think about your own life.

How many mistakes have you made, not from lack of intelligence, but because you were scared, exhausted, misinformed, or desperate? Those moments make us human—and they’ll make your characters human too.

When characters stumble for believable reasons, readers connect with them. A flawed character who fights through mistakes feels authentic and resilient. A character who’s simply “plot dumb” risks alienating the reader and pulling them out of the story because their choices feel unearned or nonsensical.

The best stories hinge on characters doing the wrong thing for the right-to-them reason. These choices create tension, reveal personality, and drive growth.

Don’t shy away from letting your protagonist screw up. Mistakes bring both your characters and plot to life, but only when they reveal heart or flaws. That’s when you make the magic of storytelling come alive.