It’s a rare–and highly interesting–phenomenon when the success of a character overwhelms even its creator.

A. A. Milne found Winnie the Pooh’s popularity a source of profound annoyance. Despite his credentials as an established author and playwright, few took his “adult” work seriously after the success of Pooh.

J. M. Barrie had the same troubles with Peter Pan, who entirely overshadowed Barrie’s other works, past and future.

Better-known are the woes of Arthur Conan Doyle. The writer absolutely hated Sherlock Holmes, whom Conan Doyle believed was distracting him from his more important literary pursuits. So plagued by the stature of his own creation, Conan Doyle resorted to throwing Holmes off a cliff in 1893. Public demand and financial need prompted Conan Doyle to revive the famous detective a decade later. The detective has not died since.

And I’m sure that J. K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyer, purveyors of this generation’s literary superstars, will forevermore be known as the Harry Potter and Sparkly Vampire Ladies, respectfully.

I’m tempted to think of these authors as similar to Dr. Frankenstein surveying his monster for the first time: “It’s alive! It’s ALIVE!” And then: “Oh, good God, what have I done?” (It’s worth mentioning here that while the Frankenstein monster is ubiquitous, comparatively few know who Mary Shelley–the original author–is.)

Though I wonder: what is it that gives these characters that appeal, that spark of life that leads them to rampage across the cultural sphere, leaving a jumble of book sequels, film adaptations, and merchandise in their wake? Is there some unnamed quality they all possess–some personality quirk or some such–that makes these characters so successful?

Charles McGrath of The New York Times reasons that Sherlock Holmes, specifically, works because he is not a character. Rather, he’s a mishmash of random facts: drug addiction, fondness for deerstalker hats, bored, extraordinarily logical (and keen to show off his abilities). These facts are interesting enough for readers to grab on to, yet not so numerous that we can’t feel free to complete Conan Doyle’s character sketch ourselves, with an end result that uniquely pleases each of us.

For this same reason, Sherlock Holmes is the most filmed character of all time. Filmmakers love the creative liberties they can take with the character (a smack-talking-martial-arts-style-Holmes, for example) while still staying faithful to Doyle’s original vision. And the countless film and television adaptations have only further fueled the popularity of the character.

As for what makes Pooh, Peter Pan, Harry Potter, and Edward/Bella so appealing, I have no idea. I imagine there’s some magic formula out there: character traits plus author’s writing ability plus public taste at the time, multiplied by the number of years the book series lasts.

I feel for these authors. Really I do. But, in comparison with the long list of obstacles writers must deal with, being overwhelmed by your own success doesn’t seem quite so bad. Though I’d love to be in the position to eat my words.