Wheels within wheels

Part of looking at the big picture means not only making plans for further installments, but making sure that those further installments also involve good plotting and storytelling.*  The series has to work, as well as the individual books.

Because, let's face it, we use the term 'series' to describe two very different things.  One type, like Lord of the Rings of The Belgariad, is actually a single story, which happens to be broken down into several separate books, for one reason or another.**  The other type, like Harry Potter, tells an overarching story, but each books stands on its own as an individual unit.  The latter is the type I prefer, and that's what I intend to write. But the overarching story needs to pay off, as well as the individual books.

This is where I go back to the Twelve-Part Structure.  It can apply to whatever grand arc-plot the series has, as well as each individual book.  How much of the twelve-part structure goes into each book, that depends on how many books you plan for your series.*** Trilogies are easy to break down.  Tetrologies work, but come out a bit odd in the twelve-part structure.  Pent- and Heptologies, which seem to be the very popular****, don't necessarily break cleanly, but that isn't a big deal.  But personally, I like the Hexology.  Possibly because it breaks down so cleanly with my twelve-part structure.  So this is how it works for the Hexology, though it's pretty easy to re-work it as you see fit for however many books you think your series should have.

  

Book 1: Establishment and Incitement. This is pretty clear, as any first book in a series need to set establish the players of the larger arc-plot, and lay the hints for the bigger things to come.  On the whole, this story needs to stand on its own the most, for obvious reasons. 

Book 2: Challenge and Altercation.  The plot of this story needs to turn the screws tighter on the larger plot.  Here, really, is where your main characters realize that something bigger is looming, and they will have to deal with it.   More important is, though, is that in Book 2 your main characters need to be challenged far beyond whatever Book 1 did to them, they need to push themselves further than they thought they were capable of, and they should prevail. 

Book 3: Payback and Regrouping.  On some level, Book 3 should be a dark mirror of Book 1.  In the grand scheme of things, Book 1 is a romp (even if it leaves plenty of bodies on the floor).  Book 3 should make the problems of Book 1 look like fun and games.  But even with that, it can feel like conclusion, in terms of the arc.  It can feel like, despite the things your heroes go through, everything is going to be all right.

Book 4: Collapse and Retreat.  Everything isn't going to be all right.  This is where the hammer drops. On whatever sliding scale you use, Books One through Three were walks in the park.  Book 4 doesn't leave scars, it leaves walking wounded.  This phase of your arc needs to be about despair.  Even if the individual plot of Book Four can be considered a "victory" for your heroes, it's a Pyrrhic one at best.  Things will not be the same after this.

Book 5: Recovery and Investment.  The arc is in a dark place in the beginning of Book 5.  The dark place is the "new normal" that the characters need to believe they live in, and the plot of Book 5 needs to be their fight back to the light.  This is where they consider quitting. This is where they decide they can't do that.

Book 6: Confrontation and Resolution.  The last book is, of course, about wrapping up the arc plot. 

That's how I break it into six books, but like I said, it's easy to shift and shuffle that for however many books your series is.  Take, for example, a classic example of seven: Harry Potter.

Sorcerer's Stone (Establishment and Incitement): Harry learns about the magical world and his history (Establishment) and makes the decision that he stands against Voldemort and what he represents (Incitement).

Chamber of Secrets (Challenge and Altercation): Harry learns that the legacy of Voldemort has deeper roots than he expected, and it's still effecting his life (Challenge), and in facing Tom Riddle and the basilisk, he steps up to actively fight that legacy (Altercation).

Prisoner of Azkhaban (Payback and Regrouping): Harry faces uncomfortable truths about his parents, having to confront his own fears directly (Payback).  He stands up to those fears, masters the Patronus, is able to fight off the Dementors, and gains some apparent stability through his relationship with Sirius (Regrouping).

Goblet of Fire (Collapse): Voldemort is back and Cedric is dead.  Things just got serious.

Order of the Phoenix (Retreat and Recovery): Harry is devastated, ridiculed and tormented over the events of Goblet, and through Umbridge, the system itself is against him (Retreat).  Despite that, he pulls it together and creates Dumbledore's Army, and refuses to go along with the lies of the Ministry (Recovery).

Half-Blood Prince (Investment): In learning the full scope of what it will take to stop Voldemort, and losing Dumbledore, Harry decides it is his responsibility to defeat Voldemort.

Deathly Hallows (Confrontation and Resolution): Harry goes after the horcruxes (Confrontation), and then faces Voldemort in the Battle of Hogwarts. (Resolution).

See?  The structure of the arc is there, yet each of those seven books also have their own story structure.  I haven't gone through to figure out if each of the seven books individually match the twelve-part structure, but I bet they come close.

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*- This is, of course, getting ahead of myself, but I always like to keep looking at the map while I'm on the road.

**- I've heard that, in the case of LotR, it had to do with binding machines at the time wouldn't be able to handle the full text.  For the Belgariad, it was pure business- Lester del Ray could make more money selling five books instead of three, as Eddings had originally planned.

***- I will not go on a rant about series that have indeterminate lengths.

****- Why is that?  Is it the prime numbers?

The Revolving Door of Death

This video hit the internet this weekend, as a sort of side-door promo for "Chronicle", but it's pretty entertaining stuff in its own right.

Now, I've always said it's pretty easy to take any story, book, TV show, movie, or whatever else and talk about it in a reductive, distainful manner.  You can rant about anything, and be accurate (and this rant is, for the most part, accurate), but not actually be honest about what really happened in the story.

I do think this one is pretty accurate and entertaining, and relatively honest.  Let's face it, there's been plenty of craziness over the past however-many-years in comic books.  (Comics, everybody!)  Death of Superman is hardly the craziest story out there. 

But one bit in which this recap is a bit dishonest is the idea that Superman coming back to life killed "death" in comics, and hurt sales in a way which Action Comics never recovered from.  The revolving door of death had always been a common trope in comics.  No one stays dead except Uncle Ben and Thomas & Martha Wayne.  Death is not a permanent condition in that world.  No one was upset that Superman came back; him coming back was pretty much assumed from the get-go.  If anything, they were mad about how it was done, with a bit of handwaving that essentially said he didn't REALLY die, he just went into a "healing coma", while still claiming that he DID really die.  It's classic having-cake-and-eating-it situation.  Superman coming back wasn't earned.  He just woke up when he needed to. 

Is that dramatically interesting?  No, it's lame.  That's what made people mad. 

If anything was killed by the Death of Superman, it was the idea of manufacturing a Collector's Item out of whole cloth.  Tons of people bought the Death of Superman issue and vacuum-sealed it, forgetting that the thing that makes a collector's item worth something is its rarity.  The bubble finally burst on the collector boom of the late 80s and early 90s, and sales of EVERYTHING dropped.  People weren't buying anymore with the hopes that they were squirreling away a fortune to be cashed in 30 years later. 

Still the video is fun, and it reminds one that if you want your stories to matter, then the consequences have to pay off.  Death can't be the same thing as a bit of a nap.

Worldbuilding and Language: Idioms and Slang

As I've said before, I'm not too keen on doing the nuts and bolts of a constructed language as part of my worldbuilding.  Well, more correctly, I think it's a great thing to do, I just don't have the skill or patience to do it. 

However, playing with idioms and slang?  That's always fun.  And, I think, an important thing to do.  It seems like it was the underlying structure behind Douglas Hulick's Among Thieves, even to the point of bringing up the details of his Thieves Cant in the foreword.  (I especially like how he admits that he combined historically accurate slang with stuff he just plain made up.  I approve.)

I made up plenty of slang for Thorn of Dentonhill and the other books set in Maradaine.  I even made a point of tweaking it a bit so that slang from the gangs in the Aventil neighborhood would be different from the slang of street kids over in Seleth and Keller Cove (in Holver Alley Crew).  Some of the things came from wanting a slang word for something, and wanting to avoid our own word.  Street kids and gang members would have a term for constabulary officers, and I didn't want "cop".  I tried to think of what they might call them.  Since patrol officers are all armed with handsticks (and might use them a little too freely on some street kids), the term "sticks" made perfect sense to me.

That, I think, is the key to doing this sort of thing: does it feel like a term or phrase that evolved naturally?  Can someone reading it parse it a figure out the term from context?  If so, then you've got a winner.

Idioms are a bit different.  I wanted Druthal to have idioms that didn't necessarily apply in English, or meant something that the idiom in our language was too modern or culturally specific.  Sometimes I look to idioms in other languages (though usually Spanish, for obvious reasons) and translate them literally into English.  Case in point, one of my favorites in Spanish is one common response to ¿Cómo te va? ("How's it going?", or more literally, "How to you does it go?"), which is Va a la patada.  Idiomatically, you're saying, "It's going badly", but literally you're saying, "It goes of the kick."  In other words, "Life is kicking my ass."  Thus, "the kick" could become slang for any kind of ill fortune.

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A brief political aside, for those interested: I'm all for donating to Planned Parenthood, and if I had something I could offer as an incentive to get others to do it as well, I'd do it.  But I don't.  (At least, I don't think I do.  Open to suggestions.) Thus, I'll just point you toward some writers who are.  Buy John Scalzi's eBooks this week, and his profits go to Planned Parenthood.  Also, Amanda Downum is offering signed copies of her highly-anticipated (by me, anyway) Kingdoms of Dust to the first 15 qualifying PP donators.  Have at either one, if you are so inclined.

Stepping Back to look at the Big Picture

This weekend was spent, in part, organizing and purging.  This tied, in part, to deciding to rename the warrior orders in Druthal.  Going through documents, finding outdated info, changing the names of things, purging out needless duplicates of paperwork.  (It's amazing how many times I've, frankly, thoughtlessly re-printed the same info.)  But I'm working on putting together both clean working files to reference (in Scrivener format primarily, though exporting that to a text format as well, in case of disaster), as well as a single, easy hard copy to go to if I need it.  It also involves digging through random handwritten notes (as I will jot down ideas just about anywhere) and making sure I've transcribed them somewhere where they'll do some good.

Part of this, of course, involved taking a good, hard look at the bigger picture of things.  I've made no secret of the fact that I have four different "heroes of Maradaine" series mapped out, with Thorn of Dentonhill, Holver Alley Crew, Maradaine Constabulary and Way of the Shield each representing the first of their own respective series.  Each of these four books stands alone just fine, though I've made a point of including hints and connections that pay off for readers who read everything. 

Now, I have a big crazy plan for each and all of these series, which I've worked to some degree.  Part of this weekend's process involved finding more detail to fill in, which then filtered back into the final bits of the Maradaine Constabulry re-write. 

On some level, I know that it's completely crazy to even be contemplating the level of plan that I have.  But I think in terms of epic.  And hopefully, I'll be able to make that pay off.

It occurs to me that this particular blog is coming off just a hair short of a total box of crazy.  Which is how stepping back and looking at my whole big-picture plan makes me feel, sometimes.  The scope of what I want to do is so huge, it feels like a tidal wave that I have to hold back.  It's almost the opposite of writer's block: there's so MUCH you can't get out. If I just let it go, it would be an intelligible word-salad of madness.  An unsolved jigsaw puzzle, dumped out on the floor.

Thus: Plan.  Organize.  Focus.  Build the edges of the puzzle first.  I've got three sides almost done, and I'm starting to build the fourth. 

This whole thing will probably make no sense to you, or it makes perfect sense, in which case you should probably be scared for your sanity.  Mine's toast. 

Off to the word mines.

Using Structure to Best Effect

Like I've always said, I'm a planner and an outliner. I can't just wing my way through a novel.I need my big picture.

Part of having that big picture outlook is knowing what the meat and bones of the story are ahead of time.  The dressing, the sinew, the sauce (depending on which metaphor you feel like using), that always comes out in the writing itself.  Sometimes on the second draft.  (Case in point, in the currently-wrapping-up Maradaine Constabulary, I've found Minox's whole extended family, something that didn't exist before.  Taking him out of the standard 'loner' trope has had some interesting effects.) 

But a problem I've run into, almost every time, is that desire to write those "meat and bones" scenes, making it something of a challenge to write those "sinewy tissue" scenes, that are just as necessary.  Each time, on Thorn, on Holver Alley, and on Maradaine Constabulary, I reached a point where, in frustration, I would write a [SCENE ABOUT THIS] notation and move ahead. 

And that's fine.  I think every writer needs to learn their own particular process, and accept how they work it.  It took me a while to realize I had to be a planner.  I had many, many crash-and-burns romanticizing the "just write and see where it takes me" method.  It doesn't work for me. 

(If that works for you, excellent.  I'm not knocking on any one person's methods.  If your methods work for you, then continue with what works.  Though I think people should always analyze whether something REALLY works for them, or they just THINK it does.)

Anyhow, I've now accepted that simply writing straight through in a linear way doesn't work for me.  I need to satisfy those urges to write the big tentpole sequences that hold the story up, and then use the ropes and canvas to hold it all together.

(I'm just throwing all sorts of metaphors around, aren't I?)

So, this is the experiment with Way of the Shield.  It'll also be my first attempt at writing a novel entirely on Scrivener.  Scrivener, of course, it's quite useful in non-linear writing.  Scenes can be written individually, and then assembled in the desired order, new scenes stuck in-between, and so forth.  I believe that this will yield faster results, as my finish-by goal for the rough draft is May 15th.

Down to the word mines I go.

Fantasy Tropes: The Noble Warrior

Generally speaking, the classic Anglo/Francan/Germanic knight doesn't exist in Druthal or Maradaine.  It's a trope that doesn't fit with the worldbuilding I've done, despite it's longstanding place in the genre.  Don't get me wrong, I like a good full-plate clad knight thundering on his horse as much as the next guy.  But it's not something I'm interested in putting here.

That said, I do have two elite warrior orders in Druthal, neither of which fit the traditional "knight" model.  (There are also various elite orders in other cultures throughout the world-- it is a common trope for a reason.)  However, on some level, I'm dissatisfied with these two orders.

Conceptually, I still like them.  On a basic level, they represent two sides of the same coin.  One specializes in offensive combat; the other, defensive.  It's the defensive order that is the focus of Way of the Shield, with the main character a fledgling member of the order. 

Also, since Druthal as of 1215 has a centralized government and a standing army, an organization of specialized warriors with no direct accountability to that government becomes problematic.  The orders still stand, mostly out of tradition, but their roles in society have become obsolete.  This obsolescence is a key factor in Way of the Shield as well.  Dayne believes in the order, but he sees that others around him are using it more as a political stepping stone.  Successfully joining the order offers a lot of social mobility.  Dayne is the son of a horsegroom, and now he can rub elbows with nobles and parliamentarians. 

So, what's my problem?  The names of the orders. 

See, originally (the initial worldbuilding, which I did in my early 20s), I had named them the Vanguard (the defensive order) and Warlords (the offensive order).  I still like the orders themselves as part of the worldbuilding, the culture.  But the names?  I'm less comfortable with them.  "Warlord" conjures up images of despotic rulers.  "Vanguard" means "the foremost division or the front part of an army; advance guard" or "the forefront in any movement, field, activity, or the like."  While it could be used for a warrior who stands in front, placing himself between others and harm, I'm not crazy about it.

But what to change them to?  That's my question.  I'd prefer not to simply have made-up names*.  Druthal does follow certain anglo-saxon models, so names that derive from the plain English would be ideal.  And ones that conjure up images of "defensive warrior" and "offensive warrior".  But I'm at a bit of a loss as what those would be.

Or am I overthinking this?  Are "Vanguard" and "Warlord" fine?

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*- I do have a certain fondness for Eddings's Pandion, Genidian, Alcione and Cyrinic knights in his Elenium, but I would feel a bit gross simply mimicking that kind of name.

A less binary look at Genre Fiction Quality

Earlier this week, Strange Horizons reviewed Michael J. Sullivan's Thief of Swords, in which the reviewer finds the book quite wanting.  Her review is pointed and barbed, though entertainingly so.  It's the kind of negative review that, I have to admit, I enjoy reading.  It is scathing, but it makes its points and backs them up with examples.  I've not read Sullivan's work yet, so I cannot comment on the review's accuracy (or, more accurately, how my opinion would differ from the reviewer's), but my gut tells me that I would probably agree with her.*  Especially with her point of incorrect usage of Shakespearian style English, where it appears the author had a character speak with  "thou", "methink" and "would'st" without much regard to how the grammar of Early Modern English actually works.  But that's neither here nor there.

What is here and there is the bit of online firestorm this review sparked.  The reviewer was accused of being "mean" and "unprofessional".  There was speculation of her motivation in writing a review, even to the point of wondering why Strange Horizons should even publish a review of this book.  (This puzzles me, since reviewing genre lit, movies and television is pretty much what Strange Horizons does.)  But one of the recurrent points that really jumped out at me was the accusation that the reviewer was too "literary minded", and thus she couldn't appreciate what Thief of Swords is supposed to be: a fun, pulpy romp.  The term "ivory tower" is even bandied about.

Now, I'll admit I have read some Strange Horizon reviews with an air of haughtiness to them, but on the whole, even when I don't agree, I find them intelligent and well-thought, showing me a perspective I hadn't considered.  But I won't get into that.  I won't even get into the personal attacks made on the reviewer and her motivations for writing it, which had some uncomfortable hints of misogyny to them.  Rather, I'd like to address the notion that a genre novel can be excused of being well-written if it's a fun, pulpy romp.

The underlying idea here is that there's only one axis to look at: at one end of the line, you have more literary genre novels (let's put, say, Michael Chabon's Cavalier and Clay as an example), and at the other hand you have the pulpy genre novels.  The false argument is that someone who likes books at one end of the line simply can't appreciate books at the other for what they are.  There's no looking at the perpendicular axis of skill and craft: how well-written or poorly-written the books are, be they literary or pulp.

To take my analogy to food, it's not just a choice of haute cuisine or burgers and fries.  Haute cuisine can be a truly well-crafted, elegant dish whose flavors you savor for years to come, or it can be a busy, over-dressed plate whose presentation is designed to cover the fact that the food itself is nothing special.  Burgers and fries can be McDonalds Value Meal, or it can a fresh-ground, fire-grilled grass-fed beef patty served with hand-cut fries.  Skill and craft matter, and I see no value in excusing sloppy writing and poor research under the banner of, "It's just supposed to be pulpy fun!"

In other news, since we're speaking of reviews, I found** this review of Hint Fiction which specifically mentions (and praises) my story.  So that's pretty cool.
 
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*- Strange Horizons, I discovered, also had a review of my current read, Douglas Hulick's Among Thieves, and while I haven't finished, I'm finding that I am so far agreeing with the negative points the reviewer raised.

**- Yes, I was Googling my own name.  Like you don't.