#GiveThanks Day Three

(30) My wife posted today that she’s grateful for Tillamook Mudslide ice cream. So am I!

(31) I’m grateful for the original Star Wars series for cultivating within me a deep and lifelong love for science fiction.

(32) I’m grateful for Michael Ende and his magnificent book The Neverending Story, which remains my favorite novel of all time, and showed me as a child just how powerful and moving a book can be.

(33) I’m grateful for Madeline L’Engle and A Wrinkle in Time for helping me to realize that one day, I would be a writer.

(34) I’m grateful for Ursula K. Le Guin and her masterful book The Dispossessed for showing me how the written word can make you feel you understand a fictional character from a completely alien culture better than you understand yourself.

(35) I’m grateful for Orson Scott Card and Ender’s Game for keeping me up until 4am and giving me one of the most incredible reading experiences of my life.

(36) I’m grateful for David Gemmell and his Drenai Series for moving me to tears with the inspiring heroism of his characters.

(37) I’m grateful for my childhood teachers who encouraged me to read and instilled in me a love of reading.

(38) I’m grateful for Terry Pratchett and his wonderfully entertaining Discworld books, which definitely helped me to become a funnier person.

(39) I’m grateful for Paperback Swap, which has been a wonderful tool for swapping books and building my personal library.

(40) I’m grateful for all of the wonderful books I have yet to discover.

(41) I’m grateful for Goodreads for helping me to organize and keep track of the books that I read, and to set reading goals.

(42) I’m grateful for the ability that I have to blog about my writing and my reading, something that didn’t really exist until just a couple of decades ago.

(43) I’m grateful for NaNoWriMo and the encouragement that it gives all of us to write things we didn’t think that we could.

(44) I’m grateful for Brandon Sanderson, his wonderful books, the positive influence that he is on the fantasy genre, and for the class he taught at BYU that both I and my wife were privileged to be able to take (though we didn’t know each other at the time).

Trope Tuesday: Fridge Logic, Fridge Horror, and Fridge Brilliance

It's amazing how many existential story questions arise from this view.
It’s amazing how many stories suddenly stop making sense from this point of view.

You know that moment after the end of the show, when the credits are rolling and the glory of that crowning moment of awesome is just beginning to fade?  When you go to the fridge to get something to eat, and all of a sudden that gaping plot hole or internal consistency problem with the story hits you?  Yeah, that’s fridge logic.

The key, though, is that it’s not something you normally question while you’re reading the book or watching the show.  While you’re in the story itself, the narrative is so compelling that you just don’t question it–that, or rule of cool is in play.  It’s only after the story is over that those questions start to arise.

It doesn’t have to come from bad writing.  Sometimes, it’s a result of values dissonance, especially for stories written in a different time or culture (although by no means is this phenomenon immune to bad writing).  Sometimes, it’s a result of a tomato surprise, where a reveal of something the characters have known all along completely changes the audience’s understanding of the story (though certainly, this isn’t immune to bad writing either).

Not all fridge logic is bad.  Fridge horror happens when a story becomes even more terrifying the more you think about it.  Some of the scariest horror stories have done this to me, as well as some that weren’t really intended to finish on downer endings but kinda sorta did.  Cracked.com did an interesting article on six movies that went that way.

But the best is when a story turns around and gives you fridge brilliance–that moment when you realize that that thing that bothered you actually changes the nature of the story in a way that suddenly makes it your favorite.

My favorite novel of all time, The Neverending Story, totally did this to me.  When I first read it in fourth grade, there were so many things that made the story awesome: the Temple of a Thousand Doors, the test of the three gates, the old man who is the exact opposite of the Childlike Empress in every way, and of course the signature phrase “but that is another story and shall be told another time.” But when I reread it in college, I realized that the real story–the underlying story that brings everything together–isn’t about a loser kid having all sorts of adventures in a fantastic world, but about the power of storytelling itself, and how it can fill the world with love.

Another moment of fridge brilliance came to me when I learned the story behind the writing of Legend, my favorite novel by David Gemmell, my favorite fantasy writer.  The book is about a hopeless battle that everyone knows cannot be won, and the people who decide to go and fight it anyway.  That’s all well and good, except that David Gemmell wrote it immediately after he was diagnosed with terminal cancer.  The story of the battle itself was a metaphor for his own life, and his struggle with his own impending death.  Lucky for all of us, after he finished writing it the doctor came back and told him that the first test was a false positive–that he was going to live after all.  He then went on to write almost thirty more books, all of them off-the-charts awesome.

So yeah, there you have it.  These are more reader tropes than writer tropes, but as a writer it’s good to keep them in mind.  Don’t be lazy, otherwise your fans will pick your stories apart (or if you have to leave a hole, be sure to hang a lampshade on it).  And if you find yourself smacking your forehead over something you’ve already written and published, see if you can’t revisit it in later books in the series and turn it into fridge brilliance.

Trope Tuesday: True Neutral

The True Neutral is something of an enigma.  They generally take no side, either because they have moved beyond good and evil, or because they simply don’t see good and evil the way we do.  Or because this isn’t their war and they just want to be left alone.  Or…well, let’s get to it.

From the easydamus character alignment page:

A neutral character does what seems to be a good idea. She doesn’t feel strongly one way or the other when it comes to good vs. evil or law vs. chaos. Most neutral characters exhibit a lack of conviction or bias rather than a commitment to neutrality.

Some neutral characters, on the other hand, commit themselves philosophically to neutrality. They see good, evil, law, and chaos as prejudices and dangerous extremes. They advocate the middle way of neutrality as the best, most balanced road in the long run.

As you might expect, this alignment doesn’t describe just one type of character.  In fact, there are many different archetypes that fall under True Neutral.  They include:

That’s quite a spread, isn’t it?  The main thing to keep in mind is that these are the characters who refuse to take sides–not just in whatever overworld conflict is driving the story, but in the ethical questions that the story raises (unless neutrality itself is their answer).

My favorite example of this trope is the Childlike Empress from The Neverending Story.  As the very embodiment of Fantasia, she transcends good and evil so completely that her power, the Auryn, cannot be used to forbid a monster from acting on its own evil nature.  Truth from Fullmetal Alchemist is another good example of a transcendent True Neutral.

With everyday, down-to-earth characters, though, this alignment tends to tick me off.  The Ents, for example, very much fall under this trope (as does Tom Bombadil…unless you subscribe to this theory).  Most others examples either come across as weak, selfish, or cowardly to me, so I don’t really care much for this alignment–unless it’s the starting point of a well-constructed character arc.

For that reason, in my own work, most True Neutrals are either straight-up antagonists or gradually shift in alignment as the story progresses.  In Genesis Earth, Michael Anderson starts out as one of the weaker True Neutral types, but changes as events in the story make him grow.  In Desert Stars, Sathi probably falls into this type, though I’m not so sure; either way, he’s very easily manipulated by his Neutral Evil wife.  In Bringing Stella Home, Ilya falls under this alignment due to his moral cowardice, and Anya might as well, though more as a Selfish Good than anything else.  Roman probably does too, but more because he’s old and wants to give up the fight; that’s something I’m currently working on in Stars of Blood and Glory.

I haven’t done a transcendent True Neutral yet, but if I ever write a heroic fantasy tale with gods and demons, I probably will.  After all, if Michael Ende did it in my favorite novel of all time, how can I resist?

The interior designer’s approach to story

I recently read a fascinating post on John Brown’s blog with an interesting exercise for analyzing the kinds of stories you most like to read.  By finding out what really turns you on in a story, you can have a much better idea what to write, and how to make your own stories better.

He prefaced the exercise with a story about the interior designer who helped them to decorate their house.  The designer spread out a number of home magazines in front of them, and told them to go through and tear out the pictures that most turned them on.  After doing this, they analyzed the pictures to see what they had in common, and thus discovered how to best decorate their house.

The exercise works much the same way.  First, pick out five books you really like that immediately come to mind.  Mine are:

As many of you know, these are some of my favorite books of all time.  I’ve reread three of them, and I intend to reread the other two at some point.

Next, pick out the elements that these books have in common.  Here’s what I came up with:

1) Set in a different time and place.

Not all these books are science fiction, but the all take place in a world far removed from our own.  Only Spin takes place largely on Earth, but the events of the story transform the world as we know it so much that by the end of the novel, it’s completely different. SPOILER (highlight to see) Besides, at the very end, the two main characters leave Earth by going through the giant portal to another planet, so the novel is arguably about escaping the world as we know it.

2) Stakes that are much more personal than global.

This was interesting, and highlights something I realized when I compared Merchanter’s Luck with Downbelow Station.  In all of these stories, the central driving conflicts are extremely intimate and personal.

To be sure, many of these stories also have an epic backdrop; Mistborn certainly does.  However, I was much more interested in Vin’s growth and development than I was in how the Ska would overthrow the Lord Ruler–in fact, Mistborn is my favorite book in the trilogy for that very reason.

3) Encourages deep introspection.

This shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise if you’ve followed this blog for a while, but I love love LOVE stories that make me see the world in a new way.  Thrillers and adventures are all fun and good, but if it doesn’t make me think, I’m usually like “meh” at the end.

4) Female characters who aren’t weak or passive.

This one might be a bit more controversial, but in all of these stories, I’ve noticed that the female characters are pretty strong, even if they aren’t all kick-butt Katniss wannabes (ugh…I hate Katniss).  Even in Legend, which is largely dominated by men, you still have the earl’s daughter, who is one heck of a spirited woman.

5) Life and death conflicts.

This is interesting: in all of these books, the threat of death is immanently real.  Some of them, such as Legend and On My Way to Paradise, are among the most violent books I’ve ever read.  I’m not sure what it is, but there’s something about life and death struggles that really draws me.

6) Romantic in a broad sense.

I’m using Tracy Hickman’s definition here, in which romance is all about teaching us to feel and bringing us in touch with our deepest feelings.  That’s the central theme of On My Way to Paradise: learning how to be a man of passion after witnessing some of the worst atrocities of war.

All of these books not only make me feel, they are about the feelings that they inspire.  In other words, the emotional elements of the story are both a part of and deeply embedded in the story’s central theme.

The exercises isn’t complete after this, though.  For the last part, take another five books and analyze them to see how they compare.  My second list includes:

So how does the list stack up?  Let’s see…

  1. Definitely true.  NONE of these stories take place in the world as we know it–and that’s awesome.
  2. A Canticle for Leibowitz might seem like an exception, since it follows the broad rise and fall of human civilization after the nuclear apocalypse.  But the things that really drew me to the story were the more personal elements: the novice who makes the illuminated manuscript of the electrical diagram, for example, or the abbot at the very end who SPOILER tries desperately to convince the single mother not to take her baby to the mercy killing station after the bomb fatally irradiates them.  In any case, it’s telling that A Canticle for Leibowitz made this list, whereas none of Arthur. C. Clarke’s books even came to my mind.
  3. Definitely true.  Even Citizen of the Galaxy, which is more adventure fiction than high concept sf, features a fascinating society of interstellar traders that really made me sit back and think about the way we structure our society.  Heinlein has a really awesome way of doing that with everything he writes.
  4. The only possible exception here might again be Heinlein, who had some very extremist views of women (putting it lightly).  However, if I recall, Citizen of the Galaxy has a female character at the end who helps pull out the main character from his indigent circumstances and helps him to come into his own.  Again, they might not all be kick-butt tramp-stamp vampire slayers, but they certainly aren’t weak.
  5. Less true of The Neverending Story and The Dispossessed, but while the central conflicts might not be about life and death, the threat of death (or a total loss of identity) certainly comes into play.
  6. Definitely true.  Few books have taught me to feel more deeply than The Neverending Story.  An absolutely magnificent piece of literature.

So there you have it.  According to this exercise, I should write books set in another time and place, where strong female characters face life and death decisions that personally impact the people in their lives and make the readers think and feel.  Interestingly enough, that is a PERFECT description of Bringing Stella Home, as well as Desert Stars and Into the Nebulous Deep.

Cool stuff.  Makes me want to write.  So on that note, I think I will.