I recently found myself explaining to my son the difference between superheroes (the fictitious Superman-types with which he is obsessed) and heroes (real people doing great things.) But it had never occurred to me that the women in my books, while fictitious, are in fact heroines: ordinary women who find greatness helping themselves and others. And since I've got two young girls who will soon need to know about strong women doing great things, I'm so pleased to reflect here on how to create the perfect heroine in a book:

Pam Jenoff

Pam Jenoff

Make her timeless . Although I write historical fiction, my female lead is always the everywoman. Just like women today, she is smart, flawed, filled with self-doubt. Readers will see themselves in her.

Dislike her intensely . I find characters that are easily liked to be dull. My heroine is her own person, with a good number of quirks. She makes mistakes. She makes choices that are true to herself, and which are not always popular. Deep down she's got the good stuff (loyalty, fairness, etc.) and I hope that readers will grow to understand and root for my heroine. But I can't promise that she will make it easy from the start.

Give her scars. We all have heartbreak in our past: a lost love, family trauma. These events shape who we are as women. So my heroine always comes to the table with a good deal of baggage she must carry with her on the journey.

Make her dissatisfied . A woman who has it all? Boring! A woman who wants more, who knows that there is something more than the role into which she's been born? She is a heroine waiting to happen.

Rock her world. One of my favorite things about writing books set during the war is that the tumultuousness of the era took women out of the conventional roles they otherwise occupied and threw them into new circumstances. Think housewife turned Rose the Riveter, secretary turned correspondent or spy.

Give her a man - but not the man of her dreams. All of my stories have some romantic element. But the man is seldom Prince Charming at first. My heroine may not notice him. He may be the farthest thing from what she imagined for herself. She may even dislike him. Perhaps in other circumstances they might not have met. Only through her own journey of growth and self-discovery does allow herself to open to him.

Throw her a curveball - or ten. A heroine is not born, she is made, forged in the fire of her struggles just like her epic male counterpart. Disaster, betrayal and beyond: my heroine has more than her share of crises. Internal and external struggles abound, mutually in tension and seemingly unresolvable.

Let her be pushed, but only so far. I want my heroine to fail and get up again, over and over, until she has the skills and knowledge to finally conquer her goal. I want her to find the strengths in herself she had no idea she possessed. Greatness through adversity is the hallmark of a true heroine.

Let her save him - and herself. My heroine can love fully. But no man is ever going to be the sun. She can learn from a man how to open up and may be transformed. But I'm reminded of a poster in my daughters' room of a woman in knight's armor on a horse. "I can save myself," it reads. My heroine can do this - and she can save her man too.

Let her surprise you. Although most of these elements are true for the heroine in each of my books, rules like these are made to be broken. If a heroine takes me on a journey that is different or new, I am more than happy to learn from her!

The Last Embrace is published on 6th August (Mira Books, £7.99)