Good morning, Readers!

Often you'll hear writers advice other writers about the best way to write, and even what and how to write.

Let me be clear, their advice is great... for them.  It might not work for you.  Bear that in mind when listening to writers offer you their insights into writing.

There are as many ways to write as there are writers.  My unsolicited advice?  Find the way that works for you.  Take the time to explore your own processes, and don't let anyone convince you that it's wrong.  If it works for you, then it's right.

One of the more noxious pieces of advice I see flung around frequently is "write what you know."  I'm going to go ahead and call bullshit on that - for the broad strokes.  It's very true for the details.  Sometimes.  Let me explain.

If everyone only wrote what they knew, in the broad strokes of their stories, the only thing being produced would be memoirs.  I mean, there's nothing wrong with memoirs, but I love my fiction.  Just because you're not an expert in dragons, doesn't mean you can't write about dragons.  One of the best things about fiction is that you get to just make shit up.  Come up with a design, classification, and culture of dragons for yourself, and use that to write your story.  It's going to be different from someone else's ideas about dragons, but the wonderful thing is, no one can fact check you.  It's all made up.

When using the "write what you know" advice while building the bones of your story will guarantee that your story will be nothing but derivative and therefore dull.  We've seen this in fantasy, where writers try to be the next Tolkien... by taking all their ideas from Tolkien.  The elves, the dwarves, the race of men, blah blah blah blah.  It's so boring.  That's one of the reasons why I loved Erikson so much.  It was new, fresh, fantasy without all the stuff we've read ten thousand times before.

I was terrified of it when writing Human.  There's literally only so much new stuff you can do with vampire stories.  Luckily, the reviews have all been pretty positive thus far.

So, in the broad strokes of story-telling, don't worry about writing what you know.  Write what you don't know.  Explore something new and unknown.  That's what SFF writing is for.

That said, it is probably wise to use what you know in your writing.  Erikson, for example, is an archaeologist and anthropologist.  That shines through in his work The Malazan Book of the Fallen, wen he describes the appearance, clothing and weapons of the T'lan Imass.  They are drawn straight from Homo Neanderthalensis.  It was obvious to me when reading (prehistoric anthropology is an interest of mine).  I had the opportunity to ask Mr. Erikson about it at Can-Con this year, and he confirmed it for me.  I high-fived myself for guessing correctly... once he was out of sight.

The point I'm trying to make here, is that Erikson drew on what he knew in order to write something fresh and interesting.  While actual Neanderthals did not participate in a communal ritual that turned them all into undead warriors capable of travelling great distances as dust on the wind, their appearance, clothing and weapons were all pulled from real life.

When writing Daughters of Britain, there was a perfect mix of what I knew and what I didn't.  There was a lot of research that went into the book to make sure that I got the events and locations more or less correct.  However, other than the names of some of the people involved, everything else was utterly made up.  I drew on what I knew about "barbaric" and insular Europe following the Boudiccan Revolt.  However, the people involved, who they really were, what they really thought, did and said, well, that was all made up.  Do I know the names of Boudicca's two daughters?  Nope.  I made that up.  Everything that Mederei goes through in trying to get back home... yeah, made all of that up.  Civillis' son Adalbern... he's entirely fictitious.  I don't even know if Civillis had any children.  I mean, it's likely, but still.

I based the social structure of the Ragnar in Skylark on what I knew about communal insects and feudal societies, and also on speculations about gene-altering viruses.  True story.

I used what I knew.  I didn't write what I know.  That's an important distinction, I think.

So, absorb everything you can.  Read a tonne of reference books, academic papers, and first-hand accounts.  Watch documentaries.  Absorb it.  And then use it touchstones in the unknown that you are exploring in your writing.

But don't feel like you have to limit yourself to only writing what you know.  There is too much to explore for that nonsense.

Good morning, Readers!

It holds true that not all protagonists need to be heroes.  Some stories are about awful people doing awful things, and if they're done well, you find yourself not merely enjoying the story, but actively rooting for the terrible people.

But in stories where a hero is necessary, is it necessary for those heroes to be good.

I would argue that the answer is no.  That paragons of goodness, the paladin type, is utterly dull (unless you're making fun of it as they do in The Gamers, or use it as a source of conflict).  Hear me out on this one.

Certainly, in some instances, it absolutely works.  Superman and Captain America were both written as utterly upstanding  people.  They are the paladin-type of hero; do no evil no matter what.  For them, it absolutely works, and can make for a brilliant foil for the shadier characters trying to do the right thing.  Problems often arise when people try and re-imagine these characters as darker and grittier than they are (looking at you, DC movies).  Marvel has managed to find the balance with Captain America, making him principled to a fault, and I mean a fault, to the point where it ruins friendships.

For the record, I had always found Superman boring, and the only Captain America I know is movie Cap (and I enjoy that character a lot), so that's what I'm going from.

Anyway, that was a side-track.

Of course, it's hard to argue that heroes must be such paragons of goodness, given the popularity of the anti-hero archetype.  There's a reason why Wolverine is one of the enduring favourites of the X-Men franchise, and it's not because he's Canadian.  It' because he's rough, and willing to do play pretty dirty tricks to get the job done.  That's why I won't stop ranting about Joel from The Last of Us.

I tend to gravitate towards the anti-hero type; the person trying to do good things but tends to resort to awful things to get them done (like Joel torturing men in order to rescue Ellie).  The dichotomy of good and evil existing in a single character at the same time is fascinating to me.  The struggle to do good where good is in short supply is far more interesting to me than other kinds of stories.

Perhaps it's because it feels more real to me.

There isn't a single person alive who is goodness personified.  We all have our flaws.  Our weaknesses are not external to ourselves (*cough**cough* Kryptonite).  Sacrifice and loss are painful.  Decisions are difficult.  It gets dull to watch a hero without flaws and weaknesses, who isn't afraid of loss and doesn't agonise over the difficult decisions that have to be made when faced with overwhelming odds.

Heroes, I think, are all the more heroic if being a hero doesn't come easily.

Now speaking of heroes, have you seen the Avengers: Infinity trailer?  'Cause damn!

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So, is a sympathetic villain necessary in your story?  There is a trend of trying to make the audience feel sorry for the villain, or see shades of themselves in the villain.

It's not a bad trend, I would say.  Highlighting the humanity (so to speak) of the person on the other side of a heroic tale can be, and often is, incredibly effective.  It certainly makes a pleasant change from the unbelievable villain who is evil for evil's sake.

You know, the one who plainly knows what they're doing is wrong or evil, but will do it anyway because they're evil, damn it!

But I don't think that making your villains sympathetic is necessary.

What you must do is make them believable.

A believable villain is someone who doesn't believe they are the villain.  I feel that a believable villain is someone who genuinely thinks they're doing the right thing; even if their philosophy of what is right and wrong is horribly twisted.  Neo-Nazis believe they're valiantly defending the "white race" from the threat of the...uh... other races... or something equally as inane.  And they're willing to resort to violence, and genocide, to do it... because heroes slay the enemy, right?

Look, I said the philosophy could be wrong and twisted. That's about as wrong and twisted as it gets.  But the important thing is, they believe they're doing the right thing, at least by the people they think are the worthy.

Ugh.  I feel like vomiting.

Sometimes, believable villains are not in the least bit sympathetic.  They don't have a tragic backstory that made them this way.  Sometimes, they're wealthy, have all the advantages, and are just fucking arseholes, you know?

I tell you what, I don't have much sympathy for the real life villains.  Neo-Nazis can go fuck themselves.  They're awful, their philosophy indefensible.  But they believe they're in the right.

I'm not fond of the politicians who are literally fighting against human right from trans folk and other members of the LGBTQA+ community, those who are making life difficult for the poor for no reason, those who are happily destroying our planet.  I don't understand how they could possibly justify what they're doing.  It is abhorrent to me.  Still, they think (or have convinced themselves) they're doing the right thing.  Somehow.

In Skylark, my (as yet) unpublished science fiction, the villains are pulled from real life.  They're people who fundamentally believe that humanity's biggest threat is the alien species they're newly allied with, and so they work to undo that alliance and rid earth of the aliens.  They're wrong, but that is the worldview they're operating from.

So, you, as a writer, do not necessarily need to craft a sympathetic villain to make your villain work.  Make them believable.  Or rather, make them believe they're doing what's right, even if that belief is utterly unfounded, or based on some terrible, twisted philosophy.

You don't have to feel sorry for the villain.

Good morning, Readers.

This weekend was both terribly sad and rather joyful.

I learnt on Saturday of a death that really affected me (no one famous, don't fret), and I immediately cancelled all my socialising plans.  I had been hovering on whether or not I had the energy to socialise, but then I read that email, and, no.  No I did not.

So, Saturday after teaching martial arts, I went home and stayed home.  I sat with the kitties and the Amazing Flatmate and watched old episodes of Master Chef Canada.  That season, incidentally, had one of the most adorable contestants ever, and she won.  So I was pleased with that marathon.

Sunday proved much more productive.  The morning saw a beautiful if cold two-hour walk.  Most people stare blankly at me when I say stuff like that, but I just really like walking, and as long as you're dressed for the weather, it doesn't matter what it's like outside, the walk is still enjoyable.  As it happened, it was beautiful and sunny yesterday, with the only possibly complaint being that the wind was fairly biting.

Still, it was a gorgeous walk, and I was going to see friends for the filming of Nights at the Round Table.  We had a full panel for both films, and the films were both light, funny and good fun.  It was a good morning.

Socialising, however, really does take a lot out of me.  I got home and had a really long nap (two hours or so).  Then, I headed downstairs and got to work editing footage from the episodes we were missing still.  There's quite a backlog as I haven't been in the best place to deal with all the work I've created for myself.

In any case, I knuckled down and got three episodes edited, uploaded and scheduled.  There will be three episodes this week.  If I can keep up this productivity streak, there will be three more episodes next week too.

As a reward for my productivity, I let myself play some Skyrim.  Have I mentioned how much I love that game?  Because I do. A lot.

So, this weekend was a mixed bag, but, thanks to good friends, great conversation, and some gaming, it was actually a pretty good one.

​How was yours?

Good morning, Readers!

Joel from The Last of Us, one of the most compelling video game protagonists in a while, and I'll explain why. Image courtesy of giphy.com

A few weeks ago, during my weekly (or, really whenever I can) writer's group meet, friend, publisher and awesome bloke, Nathan mentioned something that really took me by surprise.

He noted that I write a gentle masculinity into my male characters and that he really liked it.  It took me aback.  I was just writing a male character.  I've been thinking about the comment for a long while now, and I have some things to say.

This gentleness in my male characters is not really something that I consciously write.  I'm not trying to make a statement with it.  I'm just writing male characters.  It strikes me as odd that there'd be anything unusual about the way I write them, until I think about it.

A significant amount of writing featuring male protagonists are especially one dimensional - the heroic archetype; automatons of destiny.  They kill people by the score, feeling nothing for the lives cut short.  They do not doubt their actions as being anything other than true and righteous.  They are never affected by the horror of what they have experienced in their lives.  They never hurt.  Their losses are usually just treated as affronts to their masculinity, rather than deeply felt tragedies.

These one-dimensional portrayals of men in fiction are as damaging as the idiotic one-dimensional portrayals of women, the animated lampshade in the story.  It paints an untrue picture of when men are, and what masculinity means.

Perhaps I am indescribably fortunate with the men in my life.  They are kind, gentle, loving, sometimes weirdly awkward, people, and none of that impacts their masculinity.  I watch my friend with his new child, or my father with baby cousins, my uncle and his fantastic hugs and bright laughs... these are all men, engaging in soft, loving behaviours, and they're not any less manly for it.

In spite of what some people would want us to believe.

Many men are actually wonderful, whole humans, who love and laugh and cuddle.  They hug, they hurt, they weep, they feel, they yearn.  They're not archetypes.  They're people.

The more a writer treats they're characters - of whatever gender - as people, the more compelling they are.  For men, that includes acknowledging and representing their gentler side.  Trust me, most men have one.

I'm now going to gush about The Last of Us again, because they do this so, so well.

But Sonia! you object.  Joel from The Last of Us is the pinnacle of toxic masculine behaviours.  I mean, he tortures people, for God's sake!

I agree.  Joel is a walking poster-child for toxic masculinity most of the way through that game.  But that is part of the beauty of this game and his character.  When you see him, twenty years before the main game begins, he's a single father, whose interactions with his daughter melt the heart.  It's the loss of that, and the horrors of trying to survive in a zombie apocalypse that create a cold, hard monster; the horrific beast toxicus masculinus.  Throughout the game, you see Joel's hard shell slowly come apart to expose his gentler side.

There isn't much gentleness in dealing with the threats he faces, certainly.  But with Ellie?  By the end, uncaring Joel is gone, replaced by surrogate father Joel, and you bet he loves that sassy little girl he wound up travelling across the country with.  He loves her enough to destroy the entire Fireflies operation to save her life.

It's not that Joel is a kick-arse dude that has me gushing about his character.  It's his development from loving father, to (almost) heartless bastard, to loving father.  It's the loving father figure that has captured people's hearts.

It's also important to note that Joel becoming that horrific, violent man is itself a direct result of everything he had been through.  It was an emotional response, an armour he created for himself in an effort to protect his own heart from hurt.  He didn't start out that way.

Joel suffers for the shit he's been through.  He has nightmares.  Part of that, you learn later, is a direct result of the things he's had to do to survive.  It's affected him.  And that's important to developing real, compelling characters.

Masculinity isn't unfeeling destruction.  It isn't lust only, screw the mushy stuff.  Men are not automatons to destiny.

​They're people.

Reading men as caricatures of (toxic) masculinity is dull.  It would behoove any writer to remember that men are people, humans, with human feelings, and capacity for empathy and affection.  To ignore the gentler side of men is a mistake.

Good morning, Readers!

I've been struggling a lot lately.  With all of my various projects and things that I love, I'm struggling to find a way to do it all.

What I really need is more time in the day, or a video editor who will put everything together for me, so I can concentrate on other stuff.

More time in the day is impossible, and I can't afford to pay a video editor.  So I'm stuck.

I love everything I do, but I don't know that I can keep doing it all.

And other things are suffering for it; relationships, me, and my work.

I haven't written much at all, and that concerns me.  I have a book that I've been trying to get finished for the past two years.  As someone who is used to writing at least one book a year, this slow down is frustrating and upsetting.

Here's the kicker, I know this book would've been done by now if I had just sat down and done the work.  But between everything else I'm doing, I'm finding it difficult to do the sitting down and doing the work.

There is also other baggage keeping my mind occupied, but that's something I can't share.

Personal problems, man.  They suck.

All of it is a horribly overwhelming, and I'm finding myself freezing on the things that matter most to me.  Namely my writing.  It's not that I don't want to be writing. It's that I find myself unable.

I'm angry with myself.  Self-discipline was something that I prided myself on.  And it seems to have vanished.

I think I need to escape for a little bit.  Actually get up and move somewhere for a couple of weeks where I have nothing by myself, some food and my laptop.  A quiet place, with nothing around except maybe some books.

The feeling of frustration doesn't help, either.  It just piles onto the overwhelm; the top boar in a pig pile.

I'm saving up for a trip somewhere where I can bring my laptop and just write for a couple of weeks.  I'm thinking Wales, but I doubt I can gather the funds for that.  And that will be next year in any case.  Right now, I have to come up with a plan to get myself back into writing.

My laptop is new-to-me, and I will be doing all my writing on that.  The change of writing tool will probably help; I won't be writing on a work computer.  I also have to start scheduling my writing.  Word count targets are out of the picture at the moment.  I just need to put in the hours.

Honestly, that's the trick to getting a book written.  It's putting in the hours.

Now, if only I could find the hours to put in!

Hah!

Please excuse me while I stare at my reflection with the same disappointed expression my teachers used to have when I didn't achieve what I could have.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

Let's talk about the non-humanoids in your stories.  When I say non-humaniods, I mean the creatures in your stories that don't have a human appearance, or human thoughts or social structures.  Essentially, I'm not talking about the sentient glowing plants that live in the subterranean caves of planet FR-035-952.  I'm talking about the mount of your knight-paladin Greta.  Or the corvid familiar of the young witch Martin.  Or just the house cat that joins that rag-tag of space salvagers as they fly through the universe.

That's what I'm talking about.

Disney does something in the extreme something that a lot of writers simply don't.  It's a small thing, and in the narrative of the broader story, probably worth dropping.  But it's inclusion adds an indescribable element in stories that is, quite genuinely, a delight.

That is, of course, highlighting a non-human character's personality.  Anyone who spends any time around animals know that each animal has its own personality.  Even solitary animals will vary significantly from one another.  Taking note of these small quirks of personality in your non-human characters can elevate your story significantly.  It can be an opportunity for levity in an otherwise bleak tale.  Or the source of heartache for a character.  It might even be the whole inciting incident à la Jon Wick.

No word of a lie, the animals are often my favourite part of a Disney film.  They also happen to be some of my favourite memories from books.  I still remember, more than many of the actual characters from the books, Sparhawk's grumpy roan warhorse Faran.  Mentions of the horse's personality were one or two lines here and there, but they provided some much needed smiles, and a long-lasting impression.

Also, I dare you to tell me that Maximus wasn't the best part of Tangled.

Personalities of non-human characters and how they interact with the world and the rest of the cast can also impart important information about the people in your story.  That cat on the space salvager's ship?  It's ornery as fuck, hisses and spits at the crew, despises being touched and will scratch anyone who tries.  But the mechanic, well, he loves that scraggly arsehole anyway, and tolerates her temper with affectionate good humour.  That tells you a lot about who the mechanic is.

It's a small thing, writers, but including a non-human character in your cast can really help flesh out your characters and the world in which they live.  And, like Faran did for me, they can paint a smile on a reader's face.

Ignoring this will not break a story and make it bad.  Not in the least.  It's really just a small thing.  But this little, tiny, non-essential thing has the potential to elevate a story immensely.

Do you notice the non-human characters in the books you read?  What is your favourite, and why?  Let me know below.  I'm interested.

Ciao!