Writing Jewish Characters: Identity, Authenticity, and Avoiding Stereotypes

 Writing Jewish Characters: Identity, Authenticity, and Avoiding Stereotypes

by Gila Green

After I posted about the difference between Jewish fiction and Jewish-themed fiction, and later shared the journey of taking a Jewish-themed novel from raw draft to publication, I was heartened by the responses. Readers reached out with thoughtful comments and questions. It became clear that there's a strong interest in exploring Jewish stories from different angles.

So it felt natural to continue the conversation, this time by focusing on Jewish characters. Not the setting, not the history, not the metaphor. The people. Characters with jobs, flaws, memories, regrets. Characters who happen to be Jewish. And sometimes, characters whose Jewish identity shapes the very core of who they are.

What does it mean to write a Jewish character today, when Jewish identity is being examined, politicized, and often misunderstood? Here are some things I've learned through writing, revising, and a fair amount of trial and error.

Who Gets to Write Jewish Characters?

This question often comes up in writing circles. My take is simple: anyone can write Jewish characters. But that doesn't mean every portrayal will work.

Even Jewish writers don't automatically write "authentic" Jewish characters. There is no single Jewish experience. Jews come from every race, class, and corner of the world. Some are religious, others are secular. Some speak Hebrew or Yiddish or Arabic. Some convert, some leave religion behind entirely. There is no template.

If you're not Jewish, you're not barred from writing Jewish characters. But it's important to move beyond media stereotypes or surface-level knowledge. Characters should come from curiosity and research, not assumptions.

What Makes a Character Jewish?

Jewish identity can be quiet. Sometimes it's a candle tucked into the back of a drawer. Sometimes it's a sense of humor or a tone in a family argument. It might show up as inherited trauma, or a subtle discomfort in unfamiliar places. It might be the rhythm of a prayer, even if it's only remembered in fragments.

In my novel With A Good Eye, the main character Luna Levi is working-class, the daughter of a former Israeli combat soldier from a Yemenite family who immigrated to Ottoman Palestine. Her mother is Ashkenazi, a third generation Canadian. Between them her parents have barely finished high school. Luna has been raised on the outskirts of a variety of middle class neighborhoods in Ottawa because the family is forced to move every time the money runs dry. When I sent a draft to a non-Jewish American beta reader, she emailed me:
"I didn't realize not all Jews were rich."

That sentence stayed with me. It was a moment of honesty. She wasn't trying to offend. But it reminded me how powerful stereotypes can be, even for thoughtful readers. It also reminded me that if we don't push back with more complex stories, those stereotypes remain unchallenged.

Recognizing Stereotypes

You probably know the ones:

• The wise grandmother with a strong accent and endless advice
• The anxious, over-intellectual son
• The smothering mother
• The unethical businessman

These characters appear again and again, sometimes even in books written by Jewish authors. Stereotypes stick because they're easy and familiar. But they're also shallow.

If you find yourself writing a character who fits too neatly into a pattern, pause and ask yourself: What does this person truly want? What shaped their past? What relationships matter most to them? Don't stop at Jewish symbols or jokes. Keep going.

Let Jewish Characters Be Real

Jewish characters can be selfish, lost, spiritual, detached, curious, or completely uninterested in religion. They don't need to explain their culture to others unless the story calls for it. They don't need to act like spokespeople.

In my early drafts, I sometimes felt pressure to make the Jewishness of a character clear right away. I was afraid readers might miss it. Now I let characters be who they are. Sometimes their Jewishness is loud, sometimes it's quiet. Sometimes it's central to the story, and other times it's just one thread in a much larger fabric.

What matters most is that the character feels fully human. Real people are full of contradictions, and so are good characters.

When Readers Push Back

That email I received about not realizing Jews could be poor wasn't meant as criticism. But it reminded me how readers carry expectations, whether they know it or not. Sometimes they expect a certain kind of Jewishness—the kind they've seen on screen or in bestsellers. Anything that falls outside that can seem unfamiliar or even "not Jewish enough."

As writers, we don't have to cater to these expectations. But we do have to be aware of them. Sometimes we clarify. Sometimes we let readers sit with the discomfort. Either way, we keep writing the characters who feel true to the world we're building.

Closing Thoughts

We need more Jewish characters in fiction who are real and specific, not symbolic. We need characters who aren't reduced to a punchline, a lesson, or a checklist of traits. We need stories where Jewish identity is treated with the same care and complexity we give to any other part of a character's life.

If you're writing Jewish characters, keep going. If you're worried about doing it well, you're already asking the right questions. The best stories often start there.