Perils of the Writer: Who is the Protagonist?

So, this past week I went and saw Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them, which was largely an "OK" movie with good performances.  But it's got some fundamental flaws, that largely tie to its storytelling structure, and that it doesn't actually have a protagonist.

Needless to say, Spoilers follow

Now, I imagine you must be saying to yourself, "But surely Eddie Redmayne's character is the protagonist.  He's on all the posters."  Well, here's the thing: the movie believes he's the protagonist, and all the filmic language throughout signals him as the protagonist.

Problem is, he's not.  He's the Mysterious Stranger.  

See, Newt Scamander arrives in New York City with a box of secrets and he acts secretively, and we spent much of the first half of the movie not knowing anything about who he is or what he wants.  We don't know anything, really, until he brings Jacob down inside his case to his transportable menagerie.  And that's when we finally know why he's in the United States (to release a creature in its native Arizona), and that his own goals involve the care and protection of magical creatures.  He's made a bit of a mess, which he cleans up, and then he helps clean up the larger mess that happens incidentally around him.  The movie constantly keeps Newt at arms length from the audience.  He doesn't give us viewpoint, nor are we invited to sympathize with him.

So, then, obviously, the protagonist is Jacob.  He, after all, is a clear viewpoint character with a clearly defined goal.  He wants to get out of the cannery job and start a bakery.  He's a no-maj, so through his eyes we see wonder and magic and experience everything new the story shows us.  He has almost the classic Campbellian journey where he gets the call to something fantastic, to then return to the normal world changed.

Except, he isn't changed.  He is forced to forget it all.  And, on top of that, he doesn't DO anything that requires active choice and affects the plot.  His most active moment is punching a goblin, but that doesn't have any impact on events-- things would have proceeded more or less the same without that goblin being punched.  He basically floats through the movie being awed, and ends with a reward, but he doesn't affect the story.

Who does make choices?  Tina.  Tina has all the markings of the protagonist-- she's got an arc of needing to redeem herself, she makes active choices, and she's the one whose life the Mysterious Stranger impacts.  But the movie doesn't want her to be the protagonist-- it wants her to be the (other) plucky sidekick to Newt, and thus consistently minimizes or sidelines her.  It places her in the position to be rescued from the execution*, it tries to establish her bond with Credence, but then does nothing with that in favor of having Newt connect to him.  

So this gives us a thing to look at in your own writing: figuring out who your protagonist is, and WHY they are the protagonist, and the key things are ACTIVE CHOICES and CLEAR MOTIVATIONS.  You need to know, and you need to show clearly to your reader, what the protagonist wants and what they are choosing to do to get it.

Don't do that, and you've got a muddled mess.

Speaking of, I've got a group of protagonists who need to pull their collective fat out of the fryer, so to work I go.  See you in the word mines.

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*- I think nothing highlights how screwed up the wizarding world in this movie is more than the two scenes where Tina tries to talk to the authorities about Newt.  The first time, she's basically told "We don't want to hear anything you have to say" and the second time she's told "Why didn't you mention this sooner, you clearly need to be put to death."  

My Biggest Early Influence, aka Navigating the Hurricane

This week's topic is talking about someone who was a good influence on you early in your writing career (aka, someone you're thankful for).  I'm going to cheat slightly here, and pull out a piece I wrote when I was asked to do a bio for one the guests of honor at ArmadilloCon, who coincidentally, is exactly that person in my life.  (Plus, it's the holidays, and I've got plenty on my plate, so I'm allowed a bit of a blog-cheat.)

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I’m in a car in the middle of nowhere on a deep, deep back-country road. Flash floods and washed out roads have forced my journey home off the main highway, and then off the side road. I’m literally in a moment one plot-point away from being a horror movie cliché. But it’s cool, because I’m riding shotgun with Stina Leicht.

All right, here’s the sitch: We were both on panels at ComicPalooza in Houston, scheduled for a last-panel-of-the-con slot at 5pm on a Monday. My wife had to drive home early, so I asked Stina for a ride back to Austin, and she was happy to oblige. So we get into Locksley—her blue Miata—and hit the road. Problem: there’s been serious flooding in Austin, and the heavy storms are making their way to us. Our respective spouses are texting us, “You might want to stay in Houston” messages. But we’re both thinking A. the storm is coming to Houston, so that’s not a better choice and B. no, we want to get home. And this is Stina Leicht I’m with. She’s navigated the choppy waters of the publishing industry, including the implosion of her first publisher, and came through with two Campbell nods and brand new flintlock fantasy series hitting the shelves. Rain ain’t gonna stop her.

The first time I saw Stina was ten years ago at the ArmadilloCon Writers Workshop, my first time attending it. I was sitting in the room, surrounded by strangers and feeling a bit intimidated, especially with that panel of professional and experts at the front of the room. And then this woman walks—nay, strides—into the room like a gothic warrior intent on conquering. But, you know, cheerfully. She walked right up to that panel of experts and said hello. And I thought, “I don’t know who this woman is, but she’s clearly the champion of this workshop.” I was right about that—she finished up the con weekend getting a manuscript request from the Editor Guest of Honor. That’s not something that happens very often. Actually, having been involved in the workshop in varying capacities for the last decade, I don’t think it’s happened since.

Stina took over coordinating the ArmadilloCon Writers’ Workshop shortly after that, which is how I got to know her. In running the workshop, she repeatedly showed her dedication and commitment to learning as much as she could about her craft, and then turning right around and sharing what she learned.

So, back to riding through that storm (spoiler: WE LIVED)—we just about made it to LaGrange when our phones lit up with TORNADO WARNING SEEK SHELTER. Stina pulls us into a gas station for a few minutes while we check the radar. The worst of it is just ahead of us, and past that? Clear sailing. If we just get through it.

Stina’s car, Stina’s call: “Let’s wait for the rain to be less… horizontal.”

Fifteen minutes later, gravity starts behaving again. We push through the downpour and past the other side. The sun is setting ahead of us, filtered through a heavy blanket of orange clouds and lightning across the sky. It’s a gorgeous alien horizon, and we talk about Ray Bradbury’s All Summer In A Day.

Then everything stops dead. The highway is flooded, and the troopers tell us to turn around. When asked for the best route to Austin, we get a shrug. I go into navigation mode and find us an alternate path that, near as I can tell, is clear. Rural country highway, but it’ll get us there. There’s already been hell and highwater, so we press on.

See, that’s the thing about Stina. She charges full-tilt. She’s not fearless, but rather looks the fear in the eye and beats it. She stood at the Gates of Mordor—or rather, the gates of traditional publishing— and proved her worth. But then she turned around to those behind her and said, “Hey, look, it can be done. Come on!” That’s what she did running the Workshop for seven years. And after a couple years of reading my stuff, she said, “You don’t need to be taking this workshop anymore. You should help me run it.”

She knows that the real secret—the honest to goodness this-is-how-you-do-it secret to succeeding in this business—has nothing to do with special clubs or handshakes or having the right cousin. It’s about doing the best damn work you can do.

Take her first two books—Of Blood and Honey and And Blue Skies from Pain. She didn’t just say, “I’m going to write about Ireland in the Troubles, so I’ll watch In The Name of the Father and get to it.” No way. She did the work. She read primary sources. She emailed people who lived through it. She took classes in the Irish language. She did everything in her power to make those books right. That’s how she works. They don’t give two Campbell nods to just anyone.

So, our country highway was also washed out. I figure out a new route to get us around that, but we are going deep into Nowheresville with this detour. Now it is totally dark, and the cell reception is spotty. We’re a breakdown and castle away from Rocky Horror territory, which we comment on. Then we miss a turn, leading us to a dead end where we see a sign that makes us both burst out laughing.

GRAVEYARD

We turn back around at get back on track, eventually getting to a clear part of the main highway and back to Austin. Three hours later than we originally had hoped, but no worse for wear. We had gone through the gallows humor phase of our trip by that time.

“I mean,” I said once we were in the clear, “If we had died together, it would have boosted our careers. Well, at least mine. I’d have been the Ritchie Valens to your Buddy Holly.”

Fortunately, you’ll have Stina Leicht around for some time to come. Even still, you might want to pick up Cold Iron and pre-order Blackthorne now. 

HOLVER ALLEY CREW: The Streets of Maradaine

It's time for us to take good look at my third series-- The Streets of Maradaine-- launching in March with The Holver Alley Crew.  This is a new series with new characters, and can be your first book-- your entry into Maradaine-- without having read anything else. 

The Holver Alley Crew is a story of the desperate and impoverished of Maradaine, on the west side of the city, specifically the neighborhood of North Seleth.  North Seleth is a sort of non-neighborhood neighborhood-- and the folks that live there are an odd mix.  The sort that are "too Druth for the Little East, not Druth enough for the rest of the city".  

Asti and Verci Rynax are exactly that.  Born and raised in Maradaine, with a Kieran father and Kieran names, they've spent most their lives on the wrong side of the law.  Born into that thieving life, they know each other's plans, they know the people in the life, they know how to get jobs done.

But they tried to go straight.  Life continued to beat them down, but they pooled what little they had together to create a shop, be honest businessmen in an honest trade.

And then the fire came, and destroyed all that.

So they have to start again, with only what they know.

The Holver Alley Crew is available for pro-order at Amazon and Barnes & Noble, and you can follow it at Goodreads.

What Fuels The Words

I've been talking the past few weeks about driving forward, about the endurance, doing the hard work. That's really the only way books get written.  So then when the next question comes and it's, "So what drives you to do it?", I have a hard time answering.  Because, to me, it's almost like "why are you breathing oxygen?"

In the latest episode of Westworld-- without giving serious spoilers, when confronted with why he's done the things he's done, he answers, "I just wanted to tell my stories".  I feel very much the same way.  I know the stories I want to tell, I'm never plagued by writers' block, at least on a macro level.  (On a micro level, I sometimes don't know how a scene is supposed to work, and that's frustrating.  Sometimes a project isn't quite coming together and gets put to the side... but there's always more projects in the works.)   

Of course, right now I'm in a position of privilege.  I'm writing books that are already under contract-- doing work that I know where it's going to go.  Back when I was writing books without an agent or a publisher?  There I was fueled just by the fire in my gut-- that I had to tell the stories of Maradaine, and get it out there in the world.  Someone once told me that writing novels was a thing you only did if you can't imagine not doing it. I think that's about right.  And I'm still not satisfied.  Each novel, I'm hungry for.  

And I bet you are as well.  So get down to those word mines, and get to work.  No one else is going to do it for you.

Keeping the Wheel Turning

While I don't get very political here, I've not made a secret that my lean is liberal.  So it's no surprise that I've been none too thrilled with things over the past few days.

But that doesn't change the fact that I've got work to do.  I can't let any sort of, "things are horrible" stop me.  Because, when you come down to it, writing novels is an act of endurance.  I'm not saying you have to do words every day or you're a failure (and I loathe that sort of purity test thinking) but the work doesn't get done unless you keep coming back to it.

And the work needs to get done.  If I'd ascribe any sort of "this is what makes you a writer" test, it's that for you, the work needs to get done.  That you feel it deep in your marrow.  You feel that you have to do it or you just won't live.

That doesn't mean you don't get stuck, that you don't let the work simmer and percolate.  That doesn't mean it doesn't take a long time. The work takes what it takes.  But you have to keep coming back to it.  You keep the wheel turning.

So, I feel like I've been rather heavy this whole entry, so some levity.  If you've read some of the interviews I've done for Import of Intrigue, you've probably seen that I answer the "how do you keep in all straight?" question with "spreadsheets and timelines".  Re-reading one of those made me think about the timing of events in my grander scheme, so I went to check it in the timeline, to see when it needed to happen.   And I realized it had to happen in the middle of Lady Henterman's Wardrobe.  So, I needed to integrate it into the plot of that book.  As I looked over how I needed to do that, I realized, "If I put it here, amid this major sequence, it actually makes that main plot aspect work better."

So I'm glad I double-checked that.

Right now the wheel turning means Import of Intrigue is out there and on top.  I've been pretty pleased with the reception it's gotten, especially this review from Bibliotropic, which I feel really nails what I was going for with this book.  

All right, all of you: back in the word mines.  You've got work to do.

Knocked Down and Back Up

It seems almost inappropriate to me to talk about things like process and business of writing and writing careers right now.  It feels... well, describing how I feel would probably devolve into a rant of inarticulate swearing.  So when I look at the topic of the week to be "what does success mean to you and how do you define it?", I'm not even sure what I could say about that right now.

But then I also think that art and craft matter.  Especially when things seem bleakest.  Fundamentally my job is to help you, the audience, slip your brain to somewhere else for a little while.  That I can make someone's day a bit brighter, a bit easier... that means so much to me.  I recently heard from a fan who had to spend all day in a hospital waiting room while their daughter had a battery of tests, and they were grateful to have one of my books with them to get through the day.

I take those little scraps of joy every chance that I can, because at the core, that's what it's all about.  This business-- just like everything else in this world-- can grind you down so hard.  It will crack you across the face and not even have the decency to watch you fall down. 

Succeeding, to me, is finding the strength to stand up again, bloody and battered, and giving the world a tiny smirk and asking, "That all you got?"  

And that's what I'm gonna keep doing.

Four Books In, And I Am Still Learning

Folks, I'm not going to lie to you: I am far from figuring out this whole writers' life business.  Each book is a new mystery, and new experience, and each time you wonder, "Is this the book that I level up with?"  Do I even know what "leveling up" means in this context?  

The book comes out, and you make some of the various lists of "books to look for this month" (or words to that effect), and look: Lists!  Barnes & Noble!  Geekspeak! Nerdmuch! Tor.com!  And you realize how just getting on those curated lists are a huge victory. 

It's never instant success, and that's fine.  On some level, I relish that it isn't, because it keeps me hungry.  It's part of why I'm creating this beast of four different series in Maradaine, where all the storylines build to a greater whole.  It's part of why I'm going at this pace.  I mean: I just had a book come out, and a year from now, I'll have two more out.  

We just released An Import of Intrigue, and The Holver Alley Crew is just a few months away.  I feel very conflicted, in that it seems too soon to really be talking about it, with Import barely out of the shipping boxes, but also that I need to be talking it up as well.  I mean, we're going to have the cover reveal pretty soon.  It's pretty cool, I think you'll like it.  It really captures the...

See, I'm already ready to talk about it.

I'm constantly feeling like I could do more. Do I need to do more?  I don't just mean more books, I mean keep pushing beyond the pace I've set.  I have an agenda, I can tell you that.  At my current pace, if I'm able and permitted to maintain it, I'll have what I consider "Phase I" of the Maradaine books out by 2020.  But I've also got other stuff stewing in the crockpot.  I've got a few novella-length works planned beyond the city of Maradaine, and a novel set in another city of that world is starting to germinate in my brain.  Plus there's a space opera novel that I keep coming back to.  And I think my short story Jump the Black could be the seed of a novel. And...

I'm saying I'm not lacking for ideas to keep me busy.  I just need to figure out how to increase my volume without sacrificing quality or burning myself out.  Because, honestly, I am so damn happy that I get to do this.

All right, one more thing: a teasing banner for The Holver Alley Crew.  Because we will be talking more about it soon.

Perils of the Writer: Serving As A Warning

Happy November!  Some of you out there are doing NaNoWriMo things, and while I don't advocate it as a great way to write a novel, I do think it's an excellent way to learn about how you write a novel.  You learn your methods, and you make your mistakes.  

Here's the simple truth when it comes to a writing career: you're going to mess up.  You're going to point to the fences, swing with everything you've got, and knock yourself in the face.  And that's excellent.

 Make your mistakes.  Love them and learn from them.  And watch other people, because they will make mistakes you can learn from as well.

And that's a great thing.  It really is.  Mistakes are how we get better.  Mistakes come from taking chances.  

This includes the, "This might get me in trouble" or "This might upset some people" kind of mistakes.  Those are sometimes the best ones to make-- as long as when you look back you ask yourself, honestly, "Now, how can I do it better?"  Every book I've written is full of things I can do better, things my readers ping me with, and things I learn from.

This business WILL knock you down.  Get up, dust yourself off, and get back in it.  Hopefully smarter.

See you down in the word mines.