J is for Journey

The end of every journey brings with it the start of a new one. After one goal is achieved, there is often another to replace it. Our lives and stories are an unending cycle of starts and endings. Once we stop, we stagnate and lose ourselves.

All to often we become focused on the goal and stop caring how we get there. The same can happen in writing. In the rush to reach the end, we forget to go back and take the time to properly re-write and edit. What we forget is how much the journey itself matters. How we reach the end can matter as much as what end we reach, or even whether we reach it at all.

When writing, or doing anything, for that matter, take some time to just experience the process. Learn from the act of doing, and remember that there are many routes you can take to you end goal. Sometimes that means going back and finding a different way, while sometimes it's a nice straight road with no stops along the way. Just remember that every step is important, and by the end, all of those steps will have made you the person you are.

I is for Inspirational

Dark forces are gathering. The odds are stacked against our heroes and the situation is grim. Backs are pressed against the wall and the barricades won’t hold any longer.

It is the moment of truth, action, and the most truly inspirational moments in a story.

This is the moment when we cheer our heroes, when we feel the rising fire from deep in our stomachs threatening to scream out of our throats. Inspirational moments, when the hero rises to the challenge, delivers a rousing speech, or realises he has the strength he needs to succeed, are some of the most defining moments of fiction. Whether it’s the moment Luke Skywalker turns off his targeting computer, or Rocky Balboa gets back up for just one more round, it’s the swell of music, the gritted teeth, and the moving words that bring us back from the brink of despair.

As writers, this is our most glorious moment, when we’ve trapped the reader’s attention and pull off the big finish. As the audience, it’s our reward for suffering alongside the hero all this time.

These are the moments when children become brave and the monsters cower back under the bed.

And if you ever need a bit of a kick, here’s something I like to watch every now and again for a boost.

H is for Heroes

The lone gunslinger walking into town. The idealistic farmboy thrust into a world he doesn’t understand. The boy who swears vengeance after seeing his parents gunned down in a dark alley. The last survivor of a doomed world sent to protect Earth.

Heroes.

It’s all too easy to make the villain the more interesting character in a piece. After all, they are seen as more exciting and compelling than the “goody good” hero.

But a good hero is a work of art. A masterpiece of storytelling so compelling that we cannot turn away, no matter what. A skilled storyteller can create a hero so memorable that it defines the story and leaves a long-lasting mark on the audience.

So, what makes a great hero?

1: Humanity. A great hero has flaws and desires that we can relate to. It’s very easy to create a flawless protagonist who never suffers from doubt or makes mistakes, but that character gets boring very quickly. I don’t want to just see a hero who is flawed. I want to see a hero who can rise above those base elements of himself and triumph over not only the adversity inflicted upon him by others, but the adversity he brings upon himself.

2: Something to lose. I find protagonists who have no stake in the story the most boring of all. I quickly lose interest in such characters. Whether it be a loved one, a valued position at work, or a particular circle of friends, I want to know that the hero stands to lose something from his involvement in the story. A smart reader knows that the hero won’t die halfway through the story, because if the hero dies, the story ends. There needs to be something else, something greater, than the hero risks losing, in order for the story to have drama.

3: Loss. Going further, the hero needs to actually lose something in the course of the story. There needs to be some measure of sacrifice before the final victory. A loved one is killed. A relationship ends. A job is lost. If a hero escapes the final conflict unscathed, their victory is lessened by the last of sacrifice needed to achieve it.

4: Inspiration. The true mark of a hero is that they can lay bare their weaknesses and failings, and yet still stand tall and fight the good fight. They inspire us to be better people that those we are. Through them, we believe that a better way is possible, that we too can rise above our base desires and make a difference. Heroes make us want to better ourselves.

5: Victory. When it comes down to it, I’m a child who never grew up. When the hero’s made his sacrifices, watched the things he loves be threatened or lost, and stood against the tide because, dammit, that’s what heroes do, I want him to damn well win. Not some cheap trick where the villain is undercut at the last minute, but a proper throw-down, mentally, socially or physically, where the hero embraces his destiny, the music rises, and we know that this is the one person to can defeat the villain and bring victory for the greater good. It’s the Luke Skywalker moment, when only the hero can save the day. This is our reward, as readers or audience members, for suffering alongside the hero in his trials. This is the moment when our faith is rewarded.

So I leave you with this, and the question. What, to you, makes a hero?

G is for Ghost Stories

Okay, both Jen and myself are doing better today. We've been hearing a lot of stories about how this sort of thing happens quite often and frequently results in perfectly healthy babies.

So, on with the challenge. It's still Friday somewhere, right?

I love a good ghost story. Proper horror is amazing, but unfortunately rare.

Good ghost stories, good horror, are defined by two key elements. The fear of, and the obsession with, the unknown. True horror needs to be unknowable, but disturbingly compelling and even seductive.

This is why, despite the myriad of terrifying creatures, The Lord of the Rings is an epic fantasy and not a horror. The threat is a known force, and the method of its destruction is known by the heroes. Further, aside from the draw of the One Ring, there is no sense that the heroes are in danger of losing themselves to their quest.

Similarly, Interview With The Vampire is not a true horror, as the deep mysteries of the vampire are laid bare for both the reader and the characters. By presenting the supernatural in a knowable and tangible way, the writer removes the sense of uncertainty and fear that would normally be present.

Real fear is based on the threat of the unknown. Not cheap startle tricks.

The recent Keifer Sutherland movie, Mirrors, is a fantastic example of truly excellent horror. There is mystery, danger, and the protagonist's growing obsession with the puzzle before him. In a good horror, the hero should actually be very much responsible for the destruction in his personal life, rather than simply being a victim. They should almost be accidentally destroying themselves because they underestimate the real danger.

If you want to read a really amazing story, one that put real chills up my spine, I heartily recommend The Dionaea House. Read everything there. It's truly enthralling.

F is for Fatherhood... and Faith

This is not a happy post.

My wife, Jen, is a week away from entering her third trimester. We decided last summer that we would start trying to have a baby and within a month or so she was pregnant.

Today we had our fourth ultrasound scan. The doctors told us there wasn't as much amniotic fluid around the baby as they would like. For someone with little medical knowledge this language is pretty scary. I know amniotic fluid is important, I just don't know why.

We were told that a reduction in amniotic fluid can result in the lungs not forming properly. This means that there is a very small chance, a worst-case scenario, that if this doesn't sort itself out, the baby will not be able to breathe on its own when its born, and will not survive more than about 48 hours, at best.

There isn't anything that can be done. We just have to wait. And hope.

Up to this, everything has been fine. The baby's size is good and its heartbeat is strong. Its been kicking all shades of crap out of Jen for weeks now. Right up to our last scan, everything looked perfect. We've been told that there have been cases where a mother has even had no amniotic fluid around the baby, been told the baby won't survive, and still prove the doctors wrong. Our doctors have been wonderful, making sure we're both okay and assuring us that there is still a very good chance our baby will be fine, that at this stage it's all guesswork and they simply have a responsibility to tell us about all of the possibilities.

When I stated the A to Z Challenge, hell, when I started this blog, I hadn't intended that anything really personal would be posted on it. But this is just too big for me to shove aside for some random "F" post. As it happens, fatherhood and faith are foremost in my mind.

Both Jen and I are trying to keep positive. We've been told that nothing can be done. I don't believe that. I believe in the power of the human spirit. I believe in faith. I am not a religious man, but I am very spiritual. I want to believe that our baby is a fighter, like us. I want to believe that, whether through chance, faith, Reiki, positive thoughts, or prayer, our baby will be fine.

But faith isn't about knowing.

I'll be keeping things updated here and on Facebook and Twitter.

E is for Evolution

Characters are not static constructs, they need to adapt and grow throughout the story in order for them to feel real.

But changes to a character need to feel natural and organic. They must flow with the story, caused by the events the character experiences. No-one would have enjoyed watching Luke Skywalker start swinging a lightsaber and taking on Darth Vader the first time he set foot on the Death Star. We needed to see Luke develop from a frustrated and idealistic farm boy, to an eager and aggressive student of the Force, and finally to a powerful and controlled Jedi Knight, capable of forming effective plans and making hard decisions for the greater good, rather than his own desires.

When I'm creating a character, especially a protagonist, I usually create two versions in my mind. The first is the final result, the hero he is meant to be. The second is who the protagonist is at the beginning. Then I chart out the evolution of the character through various significant events and turning points, always looking for ways I can show the reader how the hero is changing without having it seem stilted and abrupt.

D is for Do Not Disturb

I'm reading, writing, or playing a computer game. I'm in the middle of a really good, high-emotion, climactic scene and my entire world has become the artificial creation that commands my attention.

Then someone calls me and takes me away from the fantasy.

Argh!

This drives me to distraction. Of course, it's not the person's fault for calling. They have no way of knowing that I'm right in the middle of finding out how Harry Dresden gets out of his latest dilemma, or that my protagonist is about to realise what's really going on behind the scenes. And most of the time it's my heavily pregnant wife calling, who I'm all too happy to help out, whether she needs me to make a cup of tea or scratch part of her back she can't reach. But still, it's a tragic moment when the illusion is shattered.

Wouldn't it be great if we could broadcast an all-points "do not disturb" bulletin?

Of course, my husandly duties require that I do whatever my wife needs, because I'll be dammed if I let her hurt herself doing somthing that I could do for her easily.

C is for Consequences

The simplest plot involves a hero progressing from one situation to the next in a linear progression. Like a detective moving on from the crime scene to one suspect and on to another, the hero's decisions may have no real bearing on how the story unfolds, until the climax when the villain is revealed.

Not that there's anything at all wrong with this kind of story. I'm a great lover of detective stories and crime procedurals.

Some heroes, though, push things a little too far. They're not happy to let the world move around them. Instead, they move the world. They kick in doors and get in people's faces. They make mistakes, win surprising victories, and the results of that can change the course of a story or even reverberate throughout the remainder of a series.

It's always great to be able to see how one character's decisions alter the course of the narrative. It makes the setting seem vibrant and alive, like there's more to it that just our POV character(s). Of course, the most immediately obvious form of consequence is when the hero screws up. They lose a lover, a friend dies, they get arrested. These are awesome. Heroes should never glide through the story unscathed. I want to see what they stand to lose if their fail, and I want to know that there's a very real chance of that loss happening. Even more, I want to see the consequences of the sacrifices the hero is willing to make. Does he break the law to catch the bad guy? Does he have to go to jail or start hiding from the police as a result?

But there's another kind of consequence that's just as important, and often even more fun to experience. It's when the hero takes charge of his environment and starts changing it with his very presence, hopefully for the better. No longer is the hero reacting to events and struggling to persevere. Now he is becoming a force of nature in and of himself. He kills the villain, and when we next meet the hero in the series, he is loved by the authorities and reviled by his enemies. Maybe he's being targeted by vengeful hitmen, or been given new responsibilities by the authorities that help him do more good, but mean that he has to sacrifice more of his personal life.

Consequences give life to a story. They are raw material writers can use to let their world grow from the seed of an idea into a breathing, emergent creature that has to be fed and nurtured.

B is for Best

Who doesn't want to be the best? I know I do. I want to walk through a book shop and see my name over a big display of my novels. I want to be top of the New York Times Bestseller List. I want to sit in a cinema watching the opening credits roll on a movie adaptation of one of my books.

To quote Freddie Mercury, I want it all.

Not asking for much, right? ;-p

But I'm not the best. I may never be the best.

But I still keep trying. I keep working, keep learning, keep improving. I've always believed that a writer is only as good as his next book, so if you don't give 110% every time, you'll fall behind. It's a lot of hard work. Even when reading for pleasure or sitting back to watch a movie, I'm studying the narrative techniques, learning from those who've made it ahead of me. These people are my mentors and my guides, because they've had the skill and the determination to be a success.

Unfortunately there's no easy way to get better. It's a slow process and if I'm honest, I never feel like I'm learning enough. I'm always afraid I'm still writing like that innocent 12 year-old I was when I first decided I wanted to be a writer. But I want to feel that way. I never want to feel like I've learned it all, because I never will. There'll always be someone better, something to learn from. And I take joy in that.

But, to get me through my learning journey, I do allow myself some guilty pleasures, and sometimes you just need to tell yourself that you kick ass. So for tonight, I'm doing that with the help of Mr. Joe Esposito:

A is for Antagonist

I've managed to bruise the inside of my eyelid with a stray tortilla chip crumb, so focusing my eyesight on anything within a 75 degree angle of my left field of vision hurts. This will not make blogging any easier.

This is my first ever post for the A to Z Blogging Challenge, so here goes!

A is for Antagonist.

A hero is only as good as the villain he has to fight. It's no fun watching Batman foil insurance fraud, so we get to see him go up against the Joker instead. So what makes a good antagonist?

As a reader, I want several things from a strong antagonist:

1: I want the hero to be truly challenged. This one is easy enough to satisfy as a writer. I don't want the villain to be defeated in his first confrontation with the hero. I want to see the hero beaten down and forced to struggle to overcome his adversary.

2: I want the antagonist and the protagonist to be connected somehow. The Joker is Batman's perfect foil because where Batman stands for justice and order, with a strong purpose behind his actions, the Joker is driven by chaos and whimsy. The Clown Prince of Crime is unpredictable and dangerous, madness personified. But his genius matches that of his arch nemesis. His plans, while seemingly without reason, put the city of Gotham in a state of terror. A true antagonist is a dark perversion of the protagonist, not quite the same, but not quite the opposite. They are a vague suggestion of a symbiotic relationship, two partners in a macabre dance for dominance.

3: I want the antagonist to revel in his role. This doesn't mean I want a mustache-twiddling stereotype. Far from it. The best villains don't see themselves as villains. The very best villains are the ones whose motivations we can understand. The hero should be able to look at the villain and think "there but for the grace of God go I." But the antagonist can still love his own mission and actions. Gene Hackman's "Little Bill" in Unforgiven is a town marshal, he's the law. But he gets a perverse satisfaction from his corrupt brand of justice. He'll happily see a man whipped to death or beat a man in the street just for telling tall tales, yet still think it fair and right that he has a strong position in town.

4: I want to be sorry when the antagonist is gone. The relationship between an antagonist and a protagonist should help define both characters. They should need each other for direction and meaning in their lives. Once the antagonist is overcome, whether through defeat or redemption, the protagonist should be lessened because of it. Not that the writer should have the hero sad that their enemy is no more, but rather that the conflict should have been so engrossing that, though we know it must end, we almost wish their ongoing battle could never end, as it would mean we no longer get to see these two powerful personalities clash.

5: When it comes to the end, I want a good fight. Whether it be a physical confrontation, mental outwitting, or social destruction, I want to see the antagonist truly defeated by the protagonist. Not through some cheap trick or deus ex machina, but by the hero using his strengths and rising to the challenge, thoroughly overcoming his foe and proving that he's the better man (or woman).

What do you look for in an antagonist?