The Art of Heroes

Your story needs a hero. A good guy. Almost every story has one, and that good guy is usually the protagonist. It isn't universal, but it is close enough for our purposes here. Even stories allegedly told from the villain's point of view exist mostly to garner sympathy for the villain and make them a hero in their own right. Nobody actually believes they're the bad guy, right? So let's talk a little bit about that hero.

I'll address anti-heroes before I really get into the meat of this because I don't want to pull my hair out later for omitting them. I feel that anti-heroes, by and large, are predictable characters. They're gunslinging badasses with cool one-liners and a moral code that's just a bit too recklessly violent to make them good guys. They don't care about the laws and the innocents and all that mumbo-jumbo. But they always have a soft spot. One thing that makes them relatable. Otherwise, well, they'd be the villain. It could be vengeance or children or whatever. Hell, even Boba Fett wouldn't kill women and children.

The point I want to make is that if you're character is an anti-hero, great, but the mold for that is pretty set. There isn't much I can say to help you along. You're going to spend most of your story illustrating how awesome your character is and then, somewhere toward the end of the second act, that vulnerability will have to show up. I think anti-heroes are too easy to get carried away with. Not that some writers can't do them well, but an anti-hero with real depth (I think anti-heroes themselves were created to combat complaints that the good guys had no depth), as in feeling and thoughts that conflict and all that? Well, I'd love to be shown a good one. Until then, stick with the good guys.

Anti-heroes aside, the good guys typically come in one of two styles. These are about as generalized as possible, so don't get all wound up if I'm not specific enough for your particular goblin-slaying dwarf paladin with a haunted, talking sword and a dark past who really just wants to give up adventuring for a life of cake-decorating in the South Hills, but can't because he swore a blood oath to a man he wrongly killed to find the true meaning of revenge. Hold on. Let me write that down in my notes. Uh, copyright 2012.

Anyway.

The hero of the story is very likely either The Paragon of Goodness or The Flawed Hero. Both of them are about equally cliche at this point, so really, your hero is sort of dependent on the story you want to tell. If you want a dark, complex story, well the Flawed Hero is probably your guy. If you want an epic battle of good against evil, pure unadulterated fun, the Paragon of Goodness might suit you better.

The Paragon of Goodness, as you might have imagined, is a character that always does the right thing. Not the right thing as they see it, or the right thing for the time, but the right thing period. Galad, from The Wheel of Time is a good example of this, although technically a secondary character. He consistently puts himself, and others, into danger because he can't lie, can't bend the law, can't ever do something that isn't right. But he isn't conflicted about it. See, the Paragon of Goodness knows they're doing the right thing, knows their actions have consequences, and reconciles the two by doing the right thing anyway. Typically people writing a hero like this don't give those actions dire consequences, but Robert Jordan's world isn't a soft one.

The distinguishing factor is that the hero doesn't have internal conflict, they don't (usually) have regrets from the past. The Paragon of Goodness is kind of a saint.

The Flawed Hero is, obviously, flawed. Perhaps not fatally flawed, as the heroes of Shakespeare's tragedies, but not the upright bastion of light that the Paragon embodies either. The Flawed Hero is typically more realistic because he's conflicted, he's emotional, he's got scars and issues like the rest of us. People want to see someone with the great weight of saving the world (or the girl, or the village, or the Cube of Plot Devices) thrust upon them, bow a little bit under that strain. I'd hazard a guess that the Flawed Hero is more common, at least now, because the Paragon is difficult to believe as real. We know people are good, but no one is that good.

David Bell is good at writing the Flawed Hero. His characters, whether a grief-stricken father or a conscience-laden mechanic or the genre-typical special detective are these fundamentally normal people. They've made bad decisions, made mistakes, seen and done things they regret. Those things haunt them. They're trying to stop something bad, trying to thwart some evil or find answers. They're on the Good Guys' Quest, but they aren't wholly good themselves. They're human, after all.

Either of these characters can make a fine protagonist, depending on what you do with them. The story must fit the hero, after all. You wouldn't send the Paragon of Goodness trekking through a world where he'd be forced to murder strangers to reach his goal. The character wouldn't be able to handle that. He'd crack under the guilt, or get killed trying to avoid doing what needed to be done. Likewise, you wouldn't send the Flawed Hero on a quest that would test the purity of his heart. He'd lose.

Perhaps it goes without saying, but the hero is one of the most important things to consider when you set out to write a story. Before you work on your outlines or your supporting cast, make sure you get to know the protagonist. Believe in them. See where and how they grow over the course of the story. You don't need to like them, honestly. I've written characters I'm not fond of for several reasons. Characters I would never share a drink with if we met. But you do need to know and believe them before they can come to life.

Try to highlight the subtle things about your hero. Bring out the new and exciting things. The Flawed Hero and the Paragon of Goodness have been done, show me what makes yours unique. Why should I care about his flaws or his journey? Why should I care about her struggle? The real art of creating heroes is taking something we've seen, that most basic mold, and making something extraordinary out of it. Do that, show me a hero I want to read about and put them in a story I can get lost in and you've hooked me.

There's no secret to it, there's not even one right way to do it. But when that character emerges, the one that just sinks its claws into your brain until you start spilling their life onto the page, you'd better run with it.

Characteristically Yours,
-S.R.

The Dreaditorial Process (Part 4)

If you ever get the chance, you should read through interviews with published writers. Particularly fiction writers, but I'll bet you find many of the same things elsewhere in the business. Barring that, read the introductions and Forewords that are fairly prevalent in newer editions. Making sure to account for King's idea that much of what writers say about their own work is bullshit (confidently referred to as King's Bullshit Rule), pay special attention to what they have to say about their process, both with writing and editing. The results, I think, are fascinating.

I've been reading interviews with fantasy giant Brandon Sanderson lately. On top of having a fair amount of success with his own work (which involves stand alone novels as well as the genre mandatory sprawling epics) he's finishing Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series, which is among my all-time favorites. I've noticed that he isn't shy about admitting his faults and limitations, but he does so in such a matter-of-fact way that it's almost endearing. He's also very open about his process, which I think is rather refreshing. So many writers surround themselves with this air of mystery and aloofness that it becomes tiresome to think of them as people. Which, I suppose, is the entire point.

Sanderson, though, comes off as a very genuine man who loves what he does for a living. He's also experienced and and confident, which is good to see in a younger writer.

What I found most interesting (indeed, what I want this whole piece to be about) is the idea of changing things in drafts. I've always heard of writers moving scenes around, changing, adding and eliminating whole chapters or storylines or characters. It frightened me, because it seemed to at odds with that air of mystery I mentioned earlier. That idea that a story is a natural thing, a living, organic thing that the writer pulls from the ether fully formed.

I always envisioned the editing process as fixing minor mistakes and typos caused by the fingers being unable to move as quickly as the mind works. The reality is much more mundane.

Writing, like any craft, takes time. Time to hone and practice, to sharpen the necessary skills. Someday, perhaps, your first draft will be nearly perfect. You won't be so concerned with what works and what doesn't because you'll be practiced enough to decide that in the initial writing. Maybe you already are, but I doubt it. I thought I was, honestly, and I was wrong.

In editing Eve I've found that entire sections need to be expanded to fit the story, others need to be set aside because, frankly, they don't work. I've got a solid idea that four or five chapters need to be moved around, swapped out, and tweaked until the story flows coherently. I'm doing all of those things I once found so terrifying, and it feels natural.

See, the story does come from the ether. The muse. The Jesus. Wherever. You are unearthing it, coalescing it, unraveling it. And sometimes, the fingers work faster than the mind. When you're so excited about something you just need to let it spill out, sometimes you forget details. You misinterpret things. You leave out the bits that come to mind later and focus on the raw creation.

That's what I did, and it felt great. Now, as I'm going back to fill in those things, I find that the parts I left out are as wonderful to explore as the ones that poured out of me the first time around. I've always loved the story of Rythe and his friends fighting to keep Khilanth from succumbing to darkness. Now, as I delve even deeper into that world and see where things can be changed, I'm even more enamored with it.

I think that's the key to revision. If you're doing it right, it can be frustrating and aggravating, sure. All work can be that. But if you're doing it right, you'll fall in love with the story all over again and this time, it won't be some passing affection. This is real love.

And if you don't love your creations, what's the point?

Yours,
-S.R.

The Dreaditorial Process (Part 3)

Second drafts are a lot like torture. There are periods of unenviable agony, broken up by periods of wonder at the absence of pain. In my case, the agony comes in the form of utter frustration. As I've said before, I am editing two projects concurrent with the new one I'm writing. Work has been a bit slow the last week or two, between looking for more gainful employment and getting distracted by other things but I've thought about it a great deal (the Procrastinator's Creed, I think, is "I haven't done anything, but I've sure thought about it.") and over the last two days I've gotten back into the proverbial swing of things.

I'm taking some advice I was given about how to approach editing Eve of the Dragonspeaker, and putting a bit of a spin on it. I opened up a brand new composition book and started reading my novel. I haven't made any changes yet, but each time I find something, and I've found a good bit, I note it by chapter in my notebook. For now, I'm looking at major issues. Does the dialogue sound right? Why is this happening? Are these decisions in-character? That sort of thing. I'm also making sure to sort of bolster my glossary with information, to keep the narrative (and the world) clear, concise, and continuous.

Unfortunately, I'm coming across the same issues time and again, and that's frustrating. Fortunately, the time that's passed since I last looked at this work has made it much, much easier to know when I'm being stupid. A surprising amount of the writing is solid, even the dialogue is, for the most part, right where it should be (barring some horrible, horrible lines). The majority of the issues I've found are related to characters. The things I discussed yesterday.

Those are easy enough to fix. Most of the issue just involves cutting down some bits of action or dialogue. A few of them, most notably Rythe's tendency to suddenly start talking and acting like the White Knight of Heroville, will require a little more effort on my part. I've noticed too, that I'm adding internal monologue in more places, because the narrative feels sort of empty without it.

I managed to read through five chapters yesterday (they're long chapters, get off my back) and I've got about three pages worth of jotted notes. I'm happy about it. I think this second draft will be much easier to work with than the first. I'm excited about it again, and I'm almost impatient to get to it this afternoon.

As is so often the case, I haven't done anything with Star Rider. No action, anyway. I've thought about it, remember. I opened it up this morning. I think my first idea was a bit ambitious. Just getting it all translated into type will be sufficient progress, before breaking it down into chapters and sections and getting into the meat of the editing. Luckily, I've taken about ten years worth of notes on this thing, and the changes I need to make aren't terribly difficult or even all that extensive.

Those are the updates I have thus far. No real advice, except that the advice I've always received about editing was right on the money. If you finish a project, set it aside for a while. A few days, a few weeks, a few years, whatever it takes, so that when you come back to re-write, you find yourself with a fresh perspective. It's a simple idea, really, but it works wonders.

Constructively Yours,
-S.R.

Character Development

One of the most important and, in my opinion difficult and rewarding, parts of writing is creating characters to populate your world. The way you go about this will vary from writer to writer and genre to genre, but as with all aspects of writing, some things will be universal. To do it well, you'll need to use every bit of your ability. Everything in Stephen King's toolbox, so to speak.

Characters are, let's face it, real people. If you don't feel that way, you're in the wrong business. You don't need to be friends with them, hell you don't even need to like them for all I care (I certainly have a few I'm no fan of, for various reasons) but you have to know them. How they think, how they feel, how they act. You need to know their deepest secrets and the ways they go about hiding those secrets. Know them as intimately as you know yourself (more intimately for those of you plagued with self-amnesia).

I think drafts come in very handy with characters. I know I'm guilty of, in the first draft, writing things that are just awesome in my head just because they're fucking awesome in my head. Unfortunately, something awesome may also be completely out of the question for my characters. In fact, I've had this problem about ten thousand times in my revision of Eve of the Dragonspeaker with just about all of my characters. Know what I found? If I cut that shit out, or change it so that the scene works with the characters, the story improves. Seriously.

Here's an example:

Rythe Halences (which some of you may remember from my college days, having read some parts of this story) is the central protagonist in a cast of roughly a quarter of a billion characters (it is Fantasy, after all). He's young, he's reckless, he's cocky. He's a mercenary. But he's also the good guy. There's supposed to be this sort of sense of honor in him that gradually forces him, over the course of the novel, to face what he's destined to become and save the world or whatever. The problem is that I wrote him as this sort of boyish knight, all honor and glory and all that trite, boring shit. Rythe isn't those things. It's why I love him so much. He's an asshole. He's a thief and a sell-sword. He was raised that way, that's all he knows. So while he can have some soft spots (gruff, grunting protagonists aren't my thing) and be compassionate he can fucking not be a knight in gleaming silver. No way.

The other characters in the story, at least in this first draft, seem equally paper thin. Lanir Bladeslinger (I like the cliche name, and you can piss off) is the required muscle-bound warrior-type, Cerana is the pretty elf love-interest, Syncra Vyrminaard is the spindly mage, Kiara Hethiam is the twat of a princess that's more burden than blessing, Kain Talinseth is an asshole, and so-on.

But they aren't those things at all. Not really. Syncra is a womanizer. He isn't spindly at all, he's one of the most capable characters I've ever met. He's young, he's no Gandalf. He's not even Raistlin Majere. He's exactly what you or I would be as an attractive twenty-something with magical powers. He uses it to get laid. And he's got a hell of a temper. Like, slaps cops around for giving him a parking ticket temper.

Lanir is a half-god monster of a man who cares frighteningly little for human life. He's fond of his friends, but that's about the limit of his empathy for other people. He's like two steps from being a sociopath.

Kain Talinseth is, of course, an asshole.

My job as a writer is to communicate these things to you. To open up these characters and let you, as the reader, get to know them as I have. All the Worldbuilding I've done, all these fabulous places I've created and these engaging stories I've spun aren't worth a shit in a sewer if I can't make you want to know these characters.

So how, in the name of the gods, do we do that?

Well, that's the challenge. I think the most important way we can get to know characters in through their actions. One of the cardinal rules I've learned, through classes and reading and my own writing, is that a story is way more fun to read if the writer shows you what you're meant to know, rather than telling. So, I could tell you that Rythe is a man that has no real qualms about killing someone in a fight, but I'd rather craft a scene where he runs into some guards and, rather than running or talking or surrendering, elects to seize the opportunity and kill them in the street. There's no enjoyment in it. He isn't a murderer or a sadist or a psychopath, but he solves his problems by fighting them. He's reckless that way. It may make him less savory (although thirty years of Stallone-Van Damme-Schwarzenegger films seem to indicate otherwise) but it is honest. And he does grow.

By the end of Rythe's story he's older, wiser, and more mature. While he still doesn't shy away from fighting, it isn't his first impulse. This happens over a long period of time, and it happens very gradually. The key isn't to write a character's actions in such a way that you like him, as a writer. The key is to write them honestly.

Then there's dialogue. Dialogue is one of the most fun (and occasionally frustrating) parts of writing good fiction. Weak narration can (but should not) be carried by great dialogue. Hemingway is my favorite example of this, because reading things like For Whom the Bell Tolls require a great deal of imagination on the reader's part because Hemingway excels at dialogue and leaves the rest up to us. He writes it so magnificently that when he doesn't attribute the words to a character (and he frequently does not) you can tell who is speaking just by their tone, their phrasing, their dialogue. It's pure fun, for me.

Varth Elaron, one of Skyborn's major protagonists is the sort of lovable dick that makes writing dialogue so great. He's a lecherous bard (so, me). He loves to drink and sing and tell stories (so, me) and he's always commenting on the things people say. He's this sort of meta-character in a way because he says these things about writing and story-telling and speech that are both a comment on what another character has said and a comment on these things in our world. He's great fun, and most of it is dialogue. It's my story, so there's all sorts of fighting and sex and mysteries and horrible things happening, but Varth is there through all of it cracking jokes and spinning yarns and making sly (and overt) passes at the women he meets.

Varth, I think, also came about because I want to challenge myself. As I've related before, my dialogue was once very poor and while I think I was successful in other parts of my writing, I wanted to strengthen that weak spot. So Varth is a big mouth bard (he's also based loosely on a Dungeons and Dragons character I created several years ago, because I'm a geek).

Lastly there's internal monologue. I may actually write something in the future about this topic, simply because I've only recently started playing with it. Internal monologue is, essentially, things the character thinks in the privacy of his or her own mind. It allows the writer to communicate things about the character that don't fit into dialogue or action. These things are usually smaller aspects of the personality. At least, that's my ideal.

I don't trust internal monologue because it's a balancing act. Too much of it and the writer seems lazy and the story suffers. Too little and the story seems incomplete. It's a difficult feat to do well (and there are writers who do it very well and those who do it spectacularly bad).

The only real example from my own work I can give you, without much explanation, is from Varth. Varth remarks on multiple occasions that "Sarcasm is a fool's art." However, in his own head, he's constantly making sarcastic remarks about other characters, about the gods, about the situation he finds himself in, about the world. So, as a benefit, internal monologue can work with dialogue to give a real idea of a character and make them come to life. Varth, for instance, frequently says things he doesn't mean whether as a means of keeping the attention on himself or for comedic effect or because it sprang to mind and he has no filter (so, me).

Use your skills. Your characters are crucial to your story and your story is crucial to your characters. For your readers to be interested, both of those things need to be important. Otherwise, your story is just a big, fat, boring paperweight. I can't tell you what kind of characters to create, because trying would only stifle your creativity, but then I probably don't have to. They're already there, aren't they? Get to know them and you'll be surprised at how readily they tell you everything you need to know.

Adverbially Yours,
-S.R.

The Plot Thickens

I'm going to talk about plot here (GET IT?!). Plots are hard, man. 300,000 words without getting off topic  is no easy task. There has to be a beginning, some other stuff, an ending and it all has to be coherent and not self-contradictory (there's a better word for that, I'm sure). So how do we make that happen? Hire a good editor? Sell our souls to Satan? A movie montage?

Eh. Yeah, sure.

I've stressed before the importance of notes, particularly using them early in the process to create your world and keep track of the rules and people therein in a way that's fairly easy. If a bit time-consuming. For Skyborn I spent the first two full weeks writing notes for the story, everything from a creation story to the lay of the land, but it all served a purpose and, by and large, that purpose was keeping me from contradicting myself. When you're writing, just about every aspect of your world is going to affect the plot in some way. It can be as minor as your characters being tired at the beginning of a fight because they had to climb over rocky foothills to reach it, or the disposition of a supporting character (or even a minor, background character that the protagonist has to deal with) causing further trouble for your plucky hero. Everything will affect your story, and your story needs to flow properly.

Now, that said, I do not believe in the use of outlines. I don't think a writer can, if they're being honest, sit down and actually plot an entire novel before they write it. An honest novelist will realize that much of the magic of writing comes from letting it flow organically. Some errors are par for the course, and that's the purpose of re-writes and editing. That process exists for a reason. However, there's a difference between sitting down and hammering out a story without any forethought and letting the story come out of you naturally. The latter requires a great deal of work. I think that's where many would-be writers lose their drive.

Every writer comes to a story differently. Many of them get a scene or a character stuck in their head and the story forms from there. Others see the end of a story and unravel it from there. Still others will have other methods. There is no accepted way to begin the process. But putting the work in, the forethought, is the best way to make sure you have a story to work with, instead of series of disjointed scenes.

Likewise, I'm sure we've all had this experience where we're sitting down to write and an idea for a scene or a plot point from a different part of the story comes to us. What do you do in that situation? I used to set aside what I was doing and write the scene, in its entirety, in a separate document. The problem, I found, with doing that, was that I then felt like I had to move the story toward that scene. Then the story no longer flows naturally. It feels forced and stunted. Maneuvering the story to fit the scene doesn't work. The scenes need to fit the story. The plot has to flow, in other words.

So now, when I have an idea like this, I jot it down in my notes. No actual exposition, no dialogue, just a brief note or a very simple outline of my idea. If it doesn't work for this story, then it doesn't work, but the idea might be a good one down the line. I do the same thing with my poetry. If I find myself with a great line, rather than working my current piece around it, I jot it down somewhere else for later use. But I never, under any circumstances, leave what I'm doing in favor of skipping ahead.

One other suggestion before I wrap this up, and I like placing it here because it ties things neatly together. Remember how I talked about self-discipline? If you keep to your regimen of writing every day, it will help keep the story fresh in your mind. This has the added bonuses of making it less likely that you'll have those nasty errors I talked about and keeping those creative juices flowing. You won't even need to think about plotting because it will come to you naturally.

So, plot is great but only honest plot. Natural story-telling. Anything else, and you're just wasting your time. The challenges involved are some of the most difficult parts of writing a coherent narrative, but also the most rewarding. Keep at it, but don't forget to let the story come to you as it will.

Yours,
-S.R.

Talent vs. Teaching

 (Note: While I typically avoid using names without express permission, aside from those of established writers I'm referencing, I have done so in this piece because I feel that no one I mention will have any qualms about being praised.)

I'm a big fan of Stephen King. Not an "every single thing he's ever written in signed, first-edition hardcover" big fan, but a big enough fan that I'll defend the merits of his writing to anyone at anytime. I think he's brilliant as a storyteller and he has a real, enduring, and obvious love of the language. That's why I'm a fan. Personally, I don't even like some of the things he's written. His style can be a little bit long-winded sometimes, but I respect that its because of his attention to detail, not because he likes to waste words. So although I don't dig every story he writes, I do respect them and I do think he's a great writer.

I think he also understands what goes into being a great writer.

So this morning I picked up On Writing and started reading through it again, just to spend some idle time doing something halfway productive. It got me thinking about talent. And what can be done with talent. See, there doesn't seem to be any real equation for becoming a successful writer. There's no steps to follow, no well-worn path to tread that will take you from starting out in this field to popular success. Or literary success, for that matter. They are, after all, different things. In some cases, as with Mr. King and dozens of others, this is silly. In other cases, as with that broad who wrote Twilight, this makes perfect sense. Those Twilight novels are popular fiction, fodder for the masses. They reach a large audience, but really have no literary substance. They're bland, boring, bullshit. That may be solely my opinion but, let's face it, I'm right.

So I'm pondering this odd sort of juxtaposition of writers in our culture and I think it comes down to talent and teaching. To be a great writer, in any sense, or hell even a good writer, you need a bit of both.

King says, and I agree, that plenty of people have some degree of talent, however large or small. My friend Russ can tell a story that will have you pissing yourself laughing. He's not a writer (he's told me this on several occasions) but he's got the talent for telling stories. He can move you with them in the ways that all great storytellers can, and that's something to be admired. Its the talent, to some degree. That, I think, is the part that has to be natural. You can't teach someone talent or creativity. Those things aren't made they're born into us. The love of words is, I think, equally gifted to us, but it exists in more people than most of us realize, again to some lesser or greater degree. Not everyone can be a writer, not even a large minority of people, but there are many, many people that have some talent.

The rest, I think, is taught. The little devices we use to make our stories more poignant, the syntax, the structure, the style. We're taught these things and, especially with style, we adapt them to our own, but everyone needs that base.

I'm not shy about talent. Whether I have it in some vast, brilliant pool or not is subject to debate but I'll admit freely that I have some natural ability (and affinity) for wordsmithing. I've pursued it most of my life. I think it comes heavily from my parents. Both of them are writers (or the amateur sort, neither of them really had the opportunity to really pursue it as I have). My mother is a poet in many ways, who has such a grasp of language (I think without even realizing it sometimes) that it will occasionally startle me. I've even managed to (in my younger, more daring days) read some things she's written in the years since I was born, things I'm not sure she ever meant anyone to see, and they are breathtaking. My father is a prose man, a novelist at heart, who grew up reading Asimov and Sagan and their ilk (among others, of course). I've read his opus and, actually, its one of the projects I'm currently working on. Its a brilliant piece of fiction for a man with very little teaching. There are rough places, things that need a great deal of polishing, but the talent is obvious. The teaching is what he lacks.

Both of my parents have been very supportive. Even when I was a child I would sit and tell them outrageous stories (things I don't even recall now) and they would listen raptly. I learned from them the kind of support I'd need to grow into the writer I'm, admittedly, still striving to become. But that isn't the kind of teaching I'm referring to, not exactly.

I've had a number of teachers, as we all do, through school and college. I've loved more than I've loathed, but two of those teachers really stand out. Between them, I think they've taught me just about everything I know in one way or another, and they've given me the kind of extra-familial encouragement that is so vital to pursuing any artistic endeavor. Joy Daniels (I believe she's married now and using a different last name, but I'm not certain) was my English teacher in 8th grade. I'd moved to a new town, a new school, halfway through that year and the transition was a bit rough, although I had no real friends to speak of at my old school and no real connections there. Ms. Daniels was the first teacher that ever saw something I'd written for pleasure and said "Yes, keep doing this. You need to keep doing this."

That was one of the most important days of my entire life. She'd only had me in class for about a week. I don't even know now what possessed me to show her what I was writing, but from then on she took an actual interest in my education and, on many occasions, sought me out and encouraged me to pursue writing. She transferred to the high school, and I had her again my Junior year for English and a Creative Writing/Journalism elective and, although she wasn't into the kind of editing I learned in college, she gave me innumerable bits of advice and, more importantly, confidence. She helped me learn things about grammar and structure that I would go on to refine and work into my own style. She was the first teacher that ever told me, "You need to know the Rules when you're writing, so you know which ones you can bend and break".

When I went to college I knew I was going to the right place when I chose St. Andrews. Everything about that place, even the things we all bitched about while we were enrolled there, is perfect to me. No other place I have ever been has so cultivated both the desire and the ability and the absolute love for every aspect of writing as that school.

More importantly, I met the rest of my teachers there.

Dr. David Bell (which I think I'll always call him when we're talking in person no matter how many years I spend out of his classes) is a novelist and creative writing professor and, frankly, the man who has taught me the most about writing. Some of it was direct, things I learned through his classes or his criticisms, and other times it was indirect. A few months ago something he said during my freshman year (this is almost six years ago, now) finally clicked in my head and the difference it has made is tremendous. I've told the story about how he said if I could just get the dialogue right I'd have a career in this and the impact it made on me, but I think the real reason I was able to learn so much from him (aside from reading his actual novels) is that his mannerisms, his personality, made it easy to learn.

David Bell isn't the kind of professor who lectures. He's too conversational, too sarcastic. He's got this odd sort of acerbic conviviality that makes you want to pay attention to what he's saying because it isn't a dry lecture about proper comma placement and stale texts on writing theories. More importantly, he's one of those rare professors (in fact, every professor I had at that school is of this breed to me) that actually gives a shit about what he's teaching. He didn't get a degree and a teaching job because it pays (I like to think) but because he enjoys writing. That, to me, is the mark of both an accomplished and capable writer and an even better mentor. Also, sometimes I kiss his ass so I feel better about all those times I skipped class to drink before dinner.

Those things aside, I'm not saying that every writer needs to get a degree to be good. Some writers have the capacity to learn without that setting, no matter how informal. Reading, as King says, is the second most important thing a writer can do to improve (second to actually sitting down and writing). Flexing and strengthening that creative muscle is the same as any other muscle. You need to use it. But learning the way I did helped me to find things while I was reading that were useful. For instance, one of the first honest criticisms I ever got was in Dr. Bell's Writing the Novel class and the most common bit of feedback I received on my submissions (aside from "Why the fuck is this freshman in our class?") was that I needed more internal monologue. I needed to be inside my characters' heads more. I needed to show rather than tell. Now when I read, even for pleasure, I keep an eye out for that. How do other writers work the thoughts of their characters into the story and, more critically, how does that add both to the character and the story?

That isn't a natural ability. Its something we learn. I learned other things from my fellow students, my friends, and other writers. From Chantal, who remains my dearest friend, I learned that simply because the genre of story I tell (in this case, fantasy) is something a potential reader isn't interested in, the actual story can draw them in. She does not, ever, read fantasy. It isn't what interests her, but a really compelling story will draw her in regardless of the setting. For a fantasy writer, that's crucial. So many people are turned off immediately by the genre or the funny-sounding names or the nerd-gasm inducing titles like Bones of the Dragon (by Margaret Weiss and Tracy Hickman). We don't have to cater to those people, but we should endeavor to tell stories that will turn them into fans, stories that transcend silly genres. Stories that are, at their heart, great stories.

Ed taught me to be myself when I write, regardless of the strange, bizarre twists that might include. Tell stories that are important to me, in such a way that they become compelling to other people. Mason taught me that having confidence in my ability is every bit as important as the ability itself. They need to go hand-in-hand, and it doesn't hurt to have a sense of humor about it. In fact, being able to laugh about it, despite how deeply important it is to us, is something that requires both tremendous heart and brass balls. Emily taught me that writing will always be the most important thing in my life, regardless of all the other important things in my life. Whether I dedicate hours and hours every day to it or I get side-tracked by work and obligation and drinking (which happens more often than I like to admit), everything we do is part of the molding process.

Cate taught me to learn from my mistakes. In addition to being a very, very talented writer she's also a ferocious editor. She has the ability to take something and see the potential in it in ways I still don't understand (and she is also one of the people who may kill me for all of this, which is alright). Regardless of any circumstance, she has never gone easy on something I asked for her help with, but she has never been derogatory either. Her criticism has always been more than helpful and, at times, even complimentary. When she finds something weak, something that needs work, she also finds ten ways to improve it and whether I follow that guidance or go another direction with it, the fact that she highlighted those mistakes makes all the difference.

Lastly, Courtney has taught me just about everything I know about inspiration. The most common question writers are asked is where the ideas come from and, quite frankly, there is no real answer to that question. They come from everywhere. Random things spark in your mind, things that may not bring ideas hurtling into another person's head. Even individual writers get their ideas from different places. It isn't something you can explain in simple terms, but inspiration, that creative drive, that insatiable desire to write is something a little more conceivable. At least, for me. The things that inspire me to write, that really get me going, are mostly tangible things. People, music, books, the sorts of things that get me thinking about my own work and, in doing so, inspire me to write. The way that she, herself, inspires me in conversation or by reading something she writes, has taught me a great deal about what it means to be inspired and how those things come to be inspirational.

So I want to leave you with the big idea (because I learned MLA structure, damn it) and that is to learn from the people around you. I've been blessedly surrounded by creative people my entire life, and most of them are writers but, personally, I think most of us are surrounded by creative people in some way or another and, if you have the talent, they will have a lot to teach you.

Gratefully,
-S.R.

Literary Merit

Shakespeare was the greatest writer in the history of the written word.

Let that sink in for a second. Really ponder it. Some people, people who have never even read Shakespeare's work outside of a classroom, will accept this as fact because an English teacher told them it was true once in tenth grade. Others will agree because they're intimately familiar with the Bard and the influence his work has had on our language and the way we use it to tell stories. Still others will disagree for reasons of their own and a debate will rage until the fire I just started dies down into embers in a comments section somewhere on Youtube, with the last two combatants devolving from the initial quarrel into a discussion about who can and can't spell "fag".

The argument isn't the point. The fact that there is an argument, is the point. Why do those people, those that think of Shakespeare (for example, you could substitute any of the classic writers in there) as the greatest writer or, indeed, even a great writer after 400 years think that way? What makes them feel so strongly? I'm not talking about what you'd consider a personal opinion. My favorite novel is Ender's Game but I wouldn't get into a fight over it. I wouldn't try to provide facts or examples for it being a great novel, although it certainly is that. No, I'm talking about a real idea here.

In high school (or middle school, if you're exceptional) you learn about Literary Devices. Things like Theme and Imagery, things that are capitalized because your teachers want you to know they're important. You learn, through essays and exercises, to seek out and comment upon these things in the "Great Literary Works" you read.

That, I think, is what makes the difference for most people. Scholars look for things like the Devices, and decide a work's (be it a play or novel or otherwise) Literary Merit, based on their inclusion. For instance, when you finish your work and start looking into publishing, you'll find a number of publishing houses seeking what they call "Literary fiction".

I don't pretend I know what the fuck that means, quite frankly, because its nonsense.

I believe its nonsense, because looking for Theme doesn't make a story better. Or more interesting. Or more fun to get lost in. The Great Gatsby is a great story because Fitzgerald wrote compelling characters and put them in situations that draw in his readers, not because he included subtexts of classism or social commentary. Those things exist in the story, sure. But they exist as natural byproducts of the story.

I've already pointed out that writing isn't a lucrative career for most people. Its exceedingly rare to find a millionaire writer. Hell, its uncommon to find a hundredaire writer. Its a difficult market to break into even  if you're not just looking to make money. And literary acclaim doesn't come with popular fame and fortune. Some of the most beloved writers (retrospectively, at least), the most acclaimed, were penniless. Or hated by critics in their own time. If fame and fortune is your aim, well, keep in mind that many of history's greatest are only rich and famous now that they're dead. Likewise, some of the most prominent writers, in terms of financial gain and popularity, are derided by the literary elite.

My point here, is that every piece of writing will, to some extent, be literary. Its unavoidable. They may be overt or subtle, they may be outlandish or conservative, and they may be vital to the story or simply accidental side-effects. The important thing isn't literary merit. Never set out consciously to write something that will appease scholars. Write a story, the rest will follow.

Yours,
-S.R.

World Building

So you're writing this novel, see, and you've decided ahead of time that you're going to have some characters and some dialogue and you have all these crazy plots and scenes floating around in your head. You've chosen how much sex you want to include. Basically, you've listened to what some ranting lunatic on the Internet has said about writing a novel (or a short story or a poem or death threats or anything). Great. So where is it set?

I've talked about my experience with notes before, and how important I think it is to prepare for the work to come when you decide to start a novel. In fact, the more I do this blog and work on my own writing (not to mention the editing) the more I think that the notes will give you a much better idea of the time and effort the novel will ultimately require. Once you begin your notes, however many or few they may be for your taste and style, you'll find a plethora of information just waiting to flow out of your brain like someone blew up the Hoover Dam. Its good to get it all out, written down where you can see and evaluate it. Everything you come up with is important, in one way or another. It may take the story in an exciting new direction or it may end up in the scrap pile of insane ideas. Either way, it is worth the time.

Most important, though, at least at this stage, is not the who or the what but when and where. World building is a popular subject for fantasy and science fiction writers, but I think its important regardless of genre. A lot of suspense writers will include, either in their acknowledgements or their forewards, a bit of thanks for someone that helped them with locations or geography or history or law enforcement procedure. I say suspense writers because that's where I've seen it most from people like Linwood Barclay, who writes some fairly disturbing stories set in this world and roughly this time period. When that's the setting, modern Earth, typically you'd just call it extensive research. World building, for that setting, seems a little over the top to some people. I disagree.

The setting of any work, regardless of genre or style or planet or time, is a world all its own. It has its own rules and laws, its own physics and phenomena, its own geography. If your story is set in, say New York City in 2012 or in the Third Age of Middle Earth, there is no difference. You still need to create that world and, more crucially, stick to that creation.

I'll talk about this from a fantasy perspective because that's most of what I write, but I'll try to relate it to other things as well.

To start creating a world, you need an idea. A simple idea will do, and it doesn't matter much what that idea is about. It could be a plot point, a theme, a character, whatever. That's your starting point. It will be different with everyone. For Skyborn, I had this idea that warriors from a distant northern land would be bound in honorable service to an emperor from the south. The idea was, admittedly, lifted from an Amon Amarth song (Varyags of Miklagaard) which was in turn based on a group of viking warriors (the varyags of varangians) who served as an elite guard for some of the Byzantine Emperors. With this idea in mind, I set out building my world.

I think that the first, and possibly largest, step in world building, is the geography. Where is this going to be set, in the most general of terms. So your story might take place entirely in an apartment building on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, but first you need to know where Manhattan is in relation to the rest of the world. So I built what became the Kirnan Empire, sprawled across a massive continent, across the sea from a body of land that the southerners call Northrealm. I created mountains and seas and rivers. A bit of research went into this, because knowing how these things are formed is helpful in placing them on a world.

Then I created borders between realms. Empires, in every world I've ever seen, are built of nations conquered either by force or by diplomacy. Some writers have come up with some outlandish things, but I like to make my worlds easy to explore (at least, as easy as fantasy can be) so I take ideas from our world. Kirnan is composed of roughly seven provinces or varying sizes, races, and beliefs. I had to come up with a general attitude, to know how this empire came to be (mostly because the empire itself plays such a crucial role in the story that was, by now, starting to take form in my head). So I stole ideas from the Romans, the Byzantines, the Ottomans, the Mongols, and the British. How did the empire react to different cultures? With oppression or with acceptance? Did they assimilate these things into their own society or utterly destroy them? I enjoy diversity in my worlds, it may not be the same in yours.

Creating a nation or a province or an empire requires a great deal of work and that work can be lessened or increased depending on the level of detail you choose to pursue. Brian Ruckley's Godless World books are set in a world that is somewhat hopeless. There are different races and nations, but they all blend together in one gray, melancholy world. That is part of the charm of the series. It works. On the other hand, Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time novels are set in this enormous world that is just exploding with diverse cultures all clashing with one another. The level of detail is simply staggering, and masterfully done.

For Skyborn, indeed for most of my novels, I like to get into some fair amount of detail. I build different governments based on the people, different cultures for each province often based on geography and religion and their standing in the world. I like to set-up different militaries based on those cultures. Individuals will always exist, but it helps to have a general idea of how one province views another, because it will realistically influence how your characters interact. For instance, if your novel set in that apartment building on the Upper East Side, is a romance between a  privileged Japanese woman and an inner city kid from Harlem (somehow), you need to know how those two cultures might blend and how they might clash. If its a horror story, you need to know your characters' backgrounds to know how they'll react to the situation and each other.

Nevermind the language barrier.

Fantasy is perhaps most famous for its foreign words. Bizarre names and strange, exotic tongues. I'm not Tolkien. I'm not a linguist and I don't have any intention of writing my own language. For one thing, it requires a grasp of syntax and structure and etymology I don't have and lack the patience to pursue. I don't feel that it would add to my style of storytelling. I know enough to get by, to create names and places and occasional phrases that work with my worlds, but that's less about the language and more about the world.

For instance, I created naming conventions for the provinces in Kirnan, different for each place, and the reasons for their existence. Then again, I also bastardized some Finnish words and crammed them together to form the central protagonists name. I do this with most of them, adding little bits of Earth to my worlds. I like to keep it different, occasionally using vaguely Scandinavian ideas, or Slovakian (because my family hails from those two regions). I like Finnish because it doesn't conform to any of the other languages in its region. I use French from time to time because I have a fair grasp of the language. never overtly, of course. Those bits and pieces have to fit effectively into the world without giving away their inspiration.

Once that's all done, you can get more specific or more ethereal, depending on your story. Fantasy is known for its inclusion of magic, sometimes heavily and sometimes sparsely. A growing batch of modern fantasy writers prefer to make magic a vague and mysterious thing, to turn away from genre stereotypes. It hardly appears in work by guys like John Marco. Another camp uses magic less sparingly, but still manages to avoid stereotypes. Robert Jordan, for instance, uses a magic system all his own that is fully fleshed out with its own strengths and limitations. Most importantly, he sticks to them throughout and never uses his magic as plot hole cement. He never turns on God Mode and then goes "Its cool, guys. Magic!" Brandon Sanderson is famous for creating these insane, bizarre, totally feasible systems of magic that are fully thought out, important to the story, and help to give a deeper understanding of his worlds.

I like that style, and that's what I strive for. Not the outlandish way Sanderson does it, because he's an absolute master and I'm just not that creative, but my magic works along a set of clearly defined rules that limit its ability to wave a wand and fix everything.

Likewise, I enjoy including the divine in my fiction. I've always loved creation myths, and writing them is absolutely delightful.  Your story may have no room for gods or magic, but that's silly. Even paranormal stories set on Earth have to have rules governing their supernatural ideas or those things are worthless. For an example, look at Neil Gaiman's American Gods or David Wong's John Dies at the End. Both are incredible instances of creative world building right in this country, in this time. Both include things that aren't, strictly speaking, normal, but these otherworldly things all have rules that the author sticks to because they are critical to the story.

My gods are always different, as are the creation myths associated with them. Sometimes they become individual characters as in the Egyptian, Greek and Norse myths, and other times they remain aloof and vague. That all depends on the story. The important thing, is that they exist as a natural part of the world, and are created as part of the building process.

So now you have your gods, magic, geography, cultures, governments, militaries, religions, and races. If you're organized and take your notes the way I do, these things are all separated into neat categories for easy viewing. If your world is very large or diverse, you might also include details about the different appearances of these people, generalized unless you need to be individual with them. Or, if you want to be very involved, their different styles of hair or clothing, different fashions and symbols. Different, but very specific customs. Like I said, the sheer level of detail your story (and your style) requires will vary and the work involved (be it research or brainstorming or both) will vary based on those things. Skyborn is the most detailed world I've explored so far, but plumbing those depths has given me ideas for my other worlds that will give them more depth.

In short, world building is a crucial step in any endeavor. It should be taken seriously, before the meat of the story is written because the world and story will shape each other in turn. Take notes, compile a glossary if you need to, and stick to your world, with all its flaws and laws. It will make your work more compelling, both to you and your readers, and make your story both more believable and more fun.

Constructively Yours,
-S.R.

Let's Talk About Sex

Show of hands, who likes to bone? Bang? Go heels to Jesus? Intercourse? Everyone does. If you haven't raised your hand, you're either embarrassed to be reading this in a room full of people or you, yourself, are full of shit. Sex so thoroughly dominates our culture that I have, in the past, taken bets to see if someone could give me any aspect of society I couldn't resolve to sex. That isn't a bad thing. Biologically, we're programmed for sex. Tons of other things too, sure, but in a society where we no longer have to worry about hunting for food or building shelter or finding a watering hole where lions don't hang out, the only basic need that isn't, in essence, provided for us from the womb is the need to reproduce.

So sex is this natural thing, and its fantastic. Understandably there are people who refrain from the actual act for various reasons from religion to trauma, but sex has still impacted their lives in such a profound way that they abstain from it. I feel that novels are like that.

See, movies include sex. They, in fact, don't even usually make that big of a deal about it anymore. Paintings have depicted sexual acts for, oh, about a million years (citation needed). Poems can range from the unbelievably passionate to the unbelievably debaucherous (and that's just Walt Whitman). Hell, sculptures of people fucking have existed for centuries. So where's all the sex in novels? If they can film a sex scene for professional wrestling, why can't we have a little?

I know, Romance novels include tons of sex. And I've even seen the occasional thriller with a sex scene. You know who doesn't? Fantasy. Science fiction. Honestly, of all the books I've ever read, I recall two sex scenes (and both were very well done) in all of the annals of fantasy history. Both in the last fifteen years. The first was in Stephen King's Dark Tower series (there are actually a few clips in the entire series, but the scene that stands out is the Gunslinger giving it to a demon) and the second was in Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time.

I make no secret of my affinity for sex, both in life and in art. So my fiction tends to include quite a bit of it, but the difference between a well-written scene and a poorly written scene is the difference between tasteful nude photography and pictures of a girl getting gangbanged by a soccer team. Here's an example of sex:

The sprawling, four-posted bed boasted a canopy of black that gave it a sensuously dark appeal and the cherrywood furnishings were further testament to her richness of taste. The double doors clicked shut behind him and he watched as Kiena shrugged from her shoulders. The gown tumbled down the length of her body slowly, reluctantly leaving her skin and revealing the woman beneath. She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder at him and he reacted. He lunged for her like a caged thing, hungry with passion. His arms encircled her waist, turning her toward him and lifting her at the same time. His lips found hers and though the coiled tension in his body was sufficient to crush her in his grasp, his touch was gentle. His skin felt afire and the dull ache that had accompanied him through the long months of separation became a searing, unbearable need. She fumbled with his shirt and finally gave in and tore it off him. She cast the ruined cloth away and raked her fingernails down his broad chest. In the carnage his boots found their way free of his feet and he hardly heard them fall heavily to the floor while she worked on the rest of him.

She wrapped one hand, like hot silk, around him and tugged. She guided him toward her and he threw back his head when she enveloped him. They tensed together, soundless cries rising from their lips when he penetrated her. Hyleth toppled forward, bearing his lover down with him and they crashed onto the bed like two celestial dancers falling to earth. She panted, crying out his name as her fingers wound in his hair. He arched his back, the fine toned muscles conducting their own intricate dance beneath the thick cover of his flesh. Hyleth drove himself into her with an urgency like nothing he had felt before and she raised her hips to meet him. Snared, his eyes rolled back into his head for a moment and he was nearly overcome. The knight mastered himself and looked down into her fiery blue eyes. He brought his mouth to hers, silencing her outcries of pleasure with a single, gentle kiss. She shuddered and rode the violent, ecstatic wave of her climax. Kiena bit down on his lower lip, and Hyleth relinquished the last shred of control he had thus far maintained. His body tensed and relaxed spasmodically and he collapsed half beside her and half atop her.

This is a rough scene, from an early chapter of For Glory, but the point I want to make is that nowhere does this become what I'd call explicit. In fact, the word penis doesn't even appear (much less things like dong or spunk cannon). It remains descriptive without being gratuitous. On those merits alone, perhaps it shouldn't be included in a novel. Obviously superfluous words and scenes are things to be avoided. However, I think it does serve a purpose, which is why I'm inclined to leave it in the narration. This is a very descriptive, very physical way to show the reader that these two characters have feelings for one another. In this case, those feelings are translated through raw lust, and the scene needs some work to actually convey the emotion underneath, but it does exist.

Too often we're told two characters are attracted to one another. Or that they're in love. I want to see that for myself, I want my readers to see that for themselves. Dialogue is great, internal monologue is great. Action is better. Combining those three things, that is how a writer effectively conveys emotion.

Obviously, sex scenes aren't mandatory and they aren't a substitute for good storytelling. They are a tool, like anything else. There is absolutely a line between effective use and over saturation.  In fiction, they should be used sparingly but, if it fits in the context of the story, they should be used. That is up to your discretion as a writer. I'm just here to encourage. 

I've included two actual scenes in this novel, two scenes in hundreds of thousands of words. I've alluded to others, using the same tricks that fantasy writers have been using for decades, but I included two scenes written in all their glory. Both of them include different characters, different environments, and different circumstances. One is toward the beginning of the novel, in the first act (which is a trend I'm noticing in my writing) and the other is toward the end of the second act. One is meant to convey love, passion, a carelessness that introduces readers to the state of this world. The other is an act of lust, an infatuation, two people clinging to one another in a time of unimaginable darkness.

I've always felt that leaving sex out of a story, or intentionally stepping over it, somehow lessened the impact on those relationships. Maybe that's just me being a pervert, but I encourage you to try it. It may just be that it suits you, and  that, after all, is the whole point.

Deviantly Yours,

-S.R.