Fantasy Fiction as Metaphor

Once upon a time, I wrote fantasy novels.  I mentioned this in my first blog post on this blog.  I have two fantasy novels and plotlines that will never be completed because they ceased to be part of my identity after my baby died.  I moved on to LDS fiction because I can deal explicitly with topics meaningful to me such as mourning and healing.  

However, fantasy is my home base.  One day, I would like to go back.  But like mine was, so much of fantasy literature is simply about story and sometimes characters.  Its charm for so many, as it was for me, is in its escapist quality.  It takes one away from regular life.  But since my life has been altered so drastically, I don't see the point in spending the kinds of hours it takes to write a novel simply to tell a story that doesn't mean anything or change lives.  For me, genre fiction of any sort, particularly fantasy, science fiction, or adapted fairy tale, ought to be a metaphor for the human condition.  

For instance, if a character's struggles with his super or magical powers aren't a metaphor for disability or strange gifts or even simply differences from others, it doesn't mean much to the reader or audience.  In "Frozen," Elsa's ice power seems to me to be a metaphor for disability, which causes her isolation as well as her family's.  When one reads the movie like that, it can have so much more universal meaning.  Until I can tell a fantasy/science fiction/superhero/fairy tale story that brings in genre as a mode to share meaning and make a statement or tell an allegory, I don't see the point in going there.  

Oral tales told by generations from one generation to the next were all about reflecting the human condition.  Yet so many of our modern stories just don't.  They tell a story for the story's sake.  A lot of people like that kind of story, but I find I can't bring myself to write them anymore.  I don't want a fan to come up to me and rave about my story and what a great writer I am.  I want someone to come up to me and tell me how my words changed their life, helped them feel understood, etc.  If I'm going to go the route of these genres again, it will be because I have something meaningful to say through these vehicles.  Until then, I will stick with this foreign language [to me] of realistic fiction.  

What can we learn from "Captain America: Civil War"?

I think my preteen boy gets what some movie makers don't yet get.  I showed him two superhero movies this week, and he saw something I didn't notice until he pointed it out: X-Men, the first one, fell a little flat.  Why?  The characters were pretty well-developed.  The storyline was coherent.  The action scenes were good.  Remember when I posted on humor and its importance to writing a compelling piece a few weeks back?  There was maybe one humorous line in the entire show.  Even a superhero show that is just a little too straight-faced fails to hold my boy's interest, and he's part of the target audience.  For some people, action scenes are enough.  For others, great characterization is plenty.  For others, as long as the plot is good, they will follow you all the way.  Humor adds the humanization and enjoyment that pull the rest of it together and keeps the audience coming back for more.  I haven't seen it, but I understand "Deadpool" brought people out in droves.  Why?  Because it was snarky, sarcastic, humorous.

Most recent Marvel superhero movies seem to get that.  DC seems to be lagging behind a little.  Joss Whedon breathed humor into almost every scene, not enough to make it cheesy but enough to keep the characters lovable and interesting.  In "Captain America:Civil War," the movie makers follow suit.  It has everything that keeps an audience entertained.  The characters have clear motivation, which leads to a compelling plot.  Rather than melding together in a messy, action-packed phone directory like the critically and audience-panned X-Men 3, each character stands out as the hero in his/her own piece of the tale.  The characters are more-or-less fully realized, all of them.  We get a some origins/introduction of characters from Black Panther to Spider-Man, and several continuations of characters, with the title character, Captain America, and his adventures in the foreground.  I believe each of those characters.  Furthermore, I like most of them, whether I like them in comic book version or not.  Having all of that work in a movie simultaneously is quite a feat.

But what my boy noticed that I really didn't was that the story didn't come alive until Spider-Man and the attending humor enter the picture.  My boy has never been a huge Spider-Man fan, but he is now because his enjoyment in the movie only started when he could laugh.  And characters only started wisecracking when Spider-Man showed up and got the humor ball rolling.

What can we learn about storytelling, then?  Well, for one thing, when we write, we should make sure our target audience is entertained.  And the best way to do that includes character development, including clear motivation, which leads to compelling action, all spiced with humor to help us care.  And that, my friends, is my formula for good storytelling, whether it be in a movie or a novel.

Companions

I've been reading a book recently that bugs me because there is little dialogue.  Dialogue makes a story.  It gives the writer a chance to show the reader what's going on inside the character's head without endless paragraphs of explanation, which can get dull.  Another reason dialogue is so important is it creates bonds between characters, helps us see how much the character cares about someone else, which helps us care about him.  In this book I mentioned, this character cares about no one, so no one cares about him.  Therefore, I as the reader don't care about him.  I don't know what's going on inside except through paragraphs and paragraphs of explanation and narration, which gets dull.  Take for instance Star Wars: Episode 1.  A large part of the action passes without dialogue.  You set that back to back with Star Wars: Episode 4,5,6, or 7.  They all have meaningful dialogue between characters, and, therefore, a heart.  We all love Han because of his chats and heart-to-hearts with Chewie.  We love Rey, in part, because of her bond with BB-8.

So how can a reader include dialogue that means something?  Most people choose to include a companion, someone with whom the main character can converse.  Now this companion can be human, animal, or anything else.  In "Castaway," the companion was a volleyball.  Yet we truly feel the main character's heart through his dialogue with Wilson, the Volleyball.  We cry with him when Wilson is swept away because Wilson has come alive through their "conversations."  In my books, the companion is often a pet.  With an animal companion, the main character is more or less monologuing for the sake of the reader, but we can feel his heart.  We feel the love [or sometimes hate] between main character and his animal companion, which helps us care more about the character.  If you find large spans of your book dragging because of an excess of internal chatter, start asking yourself if he could use a companion.  Can you add a companion outside his head to whom he could talk about the issues important to him?  You would, thereby, show rather than tell the reader what those issues are.

Action like in a Movie

Think like a Movie:

I have heard it said that one of the best strategies for writing is to imagine your book as a movie.  Focus on the action.  What do characters do?  What can you show about what's going on inside by what they do?  Good writing prioritizes show, not tell.  Novice writers want to write, "George was really tired of his friends.  They always did the same thing every day."  Good writers understand that this would make for a terrible moment in a movie.  You'd get some kind of a cheesy and unnecessary voiceover.  However, you can instead show the same idea.  You could write, "George shuffled into the room where his friends slumped around the floor, playing with their ratty-edged cards.  He rolled his eyes and sighed, lowering himself to his corner of the floor where he'd worn the carpet thin."  We don't need to be told he's bored.  We see he's bored.  We don't even need to get inside his head if the reader can see boredom in everything he does.   If there's a spot where you catch yourself telling the reader anything, flip it and show the same thing.  Pretend you're the director in a movie.  How would you have an actor show what you're trying to convey?

Strong action and powerful moments are not to be built up by weak verbs, adjectives, and adverbs.  In fact, most professional writers say it's best to avoid adverbs and adjectives as much as possible.  Stephen King's biggest problem with the early Harry Potter books was that they were chock full of adjectives and adverbs.  The first time I read these books, I didn't notice this.  Then I read Stephen King's review, and the adjectives and particularly adverbs jumped right off the page.  It's best to eliminate the extra wordiness of modifiers and focus on what you're really trying to say.  Compare these two:  1. "Handsome, long-haired George quickly lifted his really sharp sword angrily into the air and screamed loudly at the very big group that was running right at him."  2. "George's hair whipped in the wind as he thrust his sword to the sky and shouted his defiance at the charging horde."  Choose your words, carefully, and none of the modifiers are necessary.

Strong Verbs:

Part of showing is a focus on strong action verbs.  While writing the first draft, it's best not to focus on editing and catching all the to be verbs.  The writer's movie "Finding Forrester" advises that you write your first draft with your heart and the second with your head.  In other words, write the first draft just to get the words and the story on the page.  But for the second draft, each word needs to be carefully considered, each verb changed from passive tenses to a potent action word.  It's okay in the first draft to write, "George was under the tree, which was where he'd first fallen in love with Marilyn." However, by the second draft, a reader would find the following more compelling: "George stumbled through the forest and stopped under the looming branches of the gnarled oak.  He reached out to touch the carved heart grown into the trunk with his name just visible over Marilyn's."  The reader gets far more information and is far more intrigued by action and show than tell.  George stumbles, stops, and reaches.  The branches loom.  If the author saves "to be" for special occasions, even "am" or "was" can become significant.  For instance, "George stood with muscles tensed between Marilyn's limp body and the thugs snarling in front of him.  He thrust his sword toward his attackers and challenged them to try to get past him.  They charged ahead.  He deflected their jabs on every side.  None could get past where he was."  If the paragraph before is filled with strong action verbs, then "was" at the end feels stronger.

Just as a caveat, remember that strong, varied verbs are unnecessary in dialogue tags.  In fact, editors view the frequent use of anything but "said" or "answered" as a sign of a novice writer.  They may reject your manuscript simply for using other dialogue tags.  However, all other verbs should be carefully considered and chosen.

In short, it's best to write a novel as if you were composing a screenplay.  As much as possible, show emotion through action, and you'll be less likely to tell your audience everything you should be showing through strong verbs.

The McDonald's Test

My kids and I had a lot of fun with a test of characterization this week.  It's a simple test to see whether or not you have a real sense of your characters or not.  Take characters from any story and ask, "What would [insert character name here] order at McDonald's?"  You say your character is a fantasy/horror/science fiction/whatever character who has never and will never even SEE a McDonald's?  That's not the point.  The point is do you understand your characters enough to see through his/her eyes?  Do you know what they would do in any given situation?  My kids and I played a game in which we named kids' show after kids' show or kids' book after kids' book.  Some of them, such as the novel version of Percy Jackson or Harry Potter, we understood enough to say what they would do at McDonald's.  Some of them were such bland, indistinct/interchangeable characters that the question was impossible to answer.

As an example, we went through the list of "mane" characters of the popular kids' show "My Little Pony," using the McDonald's Test.  Pinkie Pie is the nutty one who loves parties.   She'd bound in and order some cake.  She loves cake.  They'd tell her they didn't have cake.  So she'd ask for cake.  And maybe some balloons.  Fluttershy is the sweet one who loves animals.  She'd order a large salad, so she could share it with her animal friends.  Rarity is vain and finery-obsessed.  She wouldn't want to step hoof in a McDonald's.  If she did, she'd do it to support her friends.  She'd order a cup of water and find the flavor off.  Then she'd wash up and go to a nice restaurant.  Twilight Sparkle is the practical, studious one.  She'd order grilled chicken on whole wheat but not eat it because she'd be too busy studying a scroll to notice or care.  Her assistant, Spike the dragon, is the child-like one.  He'd order a kids' meal with nuggets and fries then start a food fight with it.  Apple Jack, the country girl, would order the apple pie.  Rainbow Dash would order everything on the menu and challenge everyone to an eating contest.

The modern "My Little Pony" is a great example of clear characterization that leads to understandable motivation in episodes with enjoyable storytelling, hence its popularity among boys, girls, teenagers, younger kids, and even adults.  However, if you look back at episodes of "My Little Pony" from the some of the earlier generations, you may have a harder time figuring out what they would order because most characters were interchangeable.  They were all sweet and playful but not necessarily distinct.  It was very much a young girls' show.  I liked it when I was a kid, but I wouldn't waste my time on it now because it didn't have strong characterization like the newest generation does.  This is what makes the difference between a compelling story and one that is much less so.

You can take this game and play it with your characters.  What would your characters do?  Something above?  Protest the restaurant?  Buy it?  Take charge of it and change it into something else?  Conquer the city and knock all McDonald's to the ground?  How would your character respond to a McDonald's?  What other questions can you think of that would be telling of your characters?  You may learn something you didn't know before.