Pets and Tragedy

Yesterday, we had to put our 22-year-old cat to sleep. Although it was the right decision, it still feels very raw. KV was a companion and a comfort for most of my life, and I will miss him for a very long time.

Pets are, of course, more than just animals. They take care of us as much as we take care of them. They epitomize sweetness, honor, and devotion, and their loss is all the more poignant because of their innocence. In stories, the death of a trusted animal companion is often more tragic than that of a human character. Think of Artax drowning in the Swamp of Sadness as Atreyu tries in vain to rescue him. That scene (from The Neverending Story) destroyed me when I was a kid, and as a courtesy to you, gentle reader, I won’t link it here.

Ask people to name a book that made them cry, and many will say Where the Red Fern Grows. There is a long tradition of traumatizing children by forcing them to read this book. If you were lucky enough to have missed it, the story follows Billy, a boy from the Ozarks, and his two prize redbone coonhounds. It’s the most tragic fucking sobfest; I couldn’t even read the summary on Wikipedia without tearing up.

More recently, I read The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. The main character, Todd, who can hear the thoughts of both men and animals, becomes the somewhat-reluctant owner of a dog named Manchee. Although he pretends not to care about the dog, Manchee, with his constant chatter, grows to be his trusted friend. SPOILER ALERT: Late in the book, in order to escape and rescue the girl Viola, he must betray Manchee and leave him behind to be killed. Manchee’s confusion, his inability to understand the betrayal, is completely heartbreaking.

Although the death of a pet is an effective way to suckerpunch your readers, I believe that it should never, ever be done lightly. It can be a profound and moving event in your narrative, but it should always be necessary to the story. Killing off a beloved animal for the sake of pathos is both cruel and sloppy. Be responsible with your readers’ tender hearts, and remember to hug your dog/cat/ferret/llama today.

The Museless Blues

Sorry for the lack of posting. It’s been a rough couple of weeks. The short version is that some things fell through that I was counting on, my beloved cat is going to have to be put to sleep, and I just haven’t been up to blogging. Or writing. Or showering.

Last month, when I published Grey Magic, I crossed the line from amateur hobbyist to professional for-real writer. I may not have lit up the bestseller lists, but I’m a full-time writer. Even though I set them myself, I have deadlines. In fact, I’m supposed to be getting a new book out in a month’s time. I should be writing, blogging, networking, and researching for a minimum of eight hours a day, five days a week. What have I been doing instead? TV and craft projects.

Pretty nice though, right?

Creativity seems to go together with mental illness. They’re like peanut butter and chocolate, except replace the peanut butter with despair and eat all the chocolate in a dark room while crying. I’ve struggled with depression since I was a teenager. If you’ve never experienced it, depression robs you of the ability to do the things that would help you feel better. While you know, academically, that exercise, healthy food, and socialization would improve your mood, depression makes even getting out of bed a herculean task. The awful paradox, of course, is that the longer you stay in bed, the worse everything gets.

I don’t have the luxury of wallowing in self-pity. Even though I’d much rather be curled up in bed with a stack of comic books and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, I have to get back to work. If, like me, you struggle with depression, here are some steps that have helped me.

1. Get some sunshine. Fresh air is good for you, and so is vitamin D. Your body can’t produce it without some exposure to UVB rays.

2. Take a walk. While you’re outside, you might as well take a walk around the block. Endorphins produced by exercise will elevate your mood, and the increased oxygen to your brain may help lift the fog.

3. Read. Even if you don’t feel up to writing, read a book. One of two things may happen: either the book is so good that you’re inspired, or else it’s so bad that you get angry because you could do so much better than the no-talent hack.

4. Write it out. In college, my creative writing teacher told me that sometimes you just need to write it out. Drain all the darkness and pain onto the page. Working out your issues in the safety of a fictional setting can be very therapeutic.

5. Get help. Mental illness is serious business. If you had a broken bone, no one would tell you to just get over it, and yet too many people in our lives can’t understand why we don’t just cheer ourselves up if we’re sad. If you can’t take it anymore, please talk to a friend or family member, visit a therapist, or join an online support group.

Believe me, I know how hard it is. But once you take the first step, the second becomes easier. If you need me, I’ll be working on The Ghosts of Evergreen.

The Most Overused Word in the English Language?

Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/lynnylu/5422985405/

Writers, I want you to do an experiment. Open up your latest manuscript, grab a chunk of it (say, 1000 words), and paste it into a new document. Now, do a find/replace for the word “that.” Replace it with something ridiculous like “Snuffleupagus.” Read the passage out loud. If you’re like me, you’ll be amazed and horrified by how many times you’ve used it.

One of the most common mistakes is using “that” when you really need “which.” The former is for restrictive clauses–clauses that provide essential information, without which the sentence would lose its meaning. The latter is for non-restrictive clauses, which provide additional information or nuance but don’t alter the meaning of the sentence. Let’s take a look at the poem “This Is Just to Say” by William Carlos Williams.

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

 

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

 

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

In the first stanza, the words “that were in the icebox” specify which plums Williams ate. In the second stanza, the clause “which you were probably saving for breakfast” adds information, but it doesn’t help the reader of the note identify the plums with any more accuracy.

Once you’ve corrected any that/which mix-ups, it’s time to see how many instances of “that” can be omitted. While extraneous “thats” aren’t grammatically incorrect, they do clutter your writing, creating obstacles to trip up your readers. The last thing you want is a reader with a stubbed toe.

Example: She said that I was a going to lose.

The sentence can lose the “that” and still make sense: She said I was going to lose.

According to Neal Whitman’s guest post on Grammar Girl, verbs that function well without “that” are called bridge verbs.  It’s difficult to pin down a complete list of bridge verbs; in this paper by Sam Featherston examining the nature of bridge verbs, he writes “if a verb is sufficiently frequent it becomes more transparent to movement.” In other words, common verbs, such as “say,” “think,” “tell,” and “claim,” start to become invisible the more we use them. They transport the reader seamlessly from point A to point B in your writing. This is why “say” is often the best choice for dialogue tags; it’s so common that it doesn’t interfere with your characters’ speech. (See this post for more tips on writing dialogue.)

Like so much about English grammar, it’s difficult to outline a rule that’s true 100% of the time. There are always exceptions. Beyond the that/which rule, everything else is up to the writer. Consider ease of reading, potential ambiguity, and elegance of syntax. Pay attention to the rhythm of your writing. If you’re unsure, read the sentence out loud with and without the “that” and choose the one that sounds the best.

 






How to Write a Solid Protagonist

Warning: The links in this post lead to tvtropes.com. Do not click on them unless you have several hours to spare.

1. Your Character Should Have a Good Name.

I wrote about this already, but it bears repeating. Pick a good name for your character; you’ll be typing it often. When tempted to give your character an Awesome McCoolname, remember the advice from TV Tropes: “Try to imagine this person as a baby or as a toddler and everyone calling them this. Try to imagine the parents who would name them this.”

I would also caution you to avoid falling into the “the name must mean something” trap. I’ve spent more time than I’d like to admit on babynames.com, looking up names that mean “dark” or “crow.” The most important thing is that the name belongs to the world you’ve created, not that it’s actually Welsh for “raven-haired.”

2. Your Character Should Have Flaws.

Consider Harry Potter. While he does sometimes suffer from Chosen One Syndrome, over the course of the series, Harry evolves from a poor wee cupboard-dwelling moppet to a stroppy teenager and, finally, into a strong, selfless adult. His flaws are never more evident than in The Order of the Phoenix, where he’s frankly kind of a dick to everyone. He can’t get past his hatred of Snape, and his rash decisions lead to disaster.

A well-rounded protagonist should have flaws. And not just quirky little flaws that make the character more endearing to others, but actual personality defects. While I like Grimoire, the heroine of Grey Magic, quite a bit, she does have her faults. She’s conceited, occasionally bratty, and so reliant on her own intelligence that she has trouble admitting when she’s wrong. Her flaws cause her to make mistakes and butt heads with authority figures.

3. Not Everyone Should Like Your Character.

Bella Swan is a crappy heroine, and not just because her only intentional “flaw” is a tendency towards clumsiness. She embodies the Mary Sue, the wish-fulfillment author avatar, where she serves a stand-in for the author’s own fantasies. Stephenie Meyer stated that she purposefully left off physical description of Bella so that readers could imagine themselves in her shoes more easily, so in a way, she’s kind of a meta-Mary Sue.

http://avalanchesoftware.blogspot.com/2009/11/then-buffy-staked-edward_25.htmlIf you haven’t read “An Imagined Girls Night with Katniss Everdeen, Hermione Granger, Bella Swan, and Buffy Summers,” you’re in a for a treat.

Every character thinks Bella is the bee’s knees, despite her bland personality and total lack of self-preservation instincts. She’s bratty, bitchy, and boring–seriously, her only interests are “Edward” and “Jumping off cliffs (to get Edward’s attention)”–and no one calls her on it. I had a similar issue with Sydney Sage, the main character in Richelle Mead’s Vampire Academy spin-off series. Even though Sydney is an insufferable prig, everyone loves her and tells her how great she is all the time. It got really irritating after a while. 

4. If Your Character Isn’t Likable, They Should at Least Be Interesting.

The protagonist of your story isn’t necessarily the hero. They may not even be particularly likable. But they should be compelling. Ignatius J. Reilly, the main character in A Confederacy of Dunces, isn’t someone that I’d like to share an egg salad sandwich with, but he’s interesting in the same way that Hoarders is interesting.

There are certain character archetypes that make for a bland hero. Luke Skywalker, for instance, isn’t much fun at parties. Not only does he natter on about bulls-eyeing womp rats, but he’s not nearly as charismatic as his comrades. If your main character suffers from Designated Protagonist Syndrome, at least make sure that you have a Han Solo in the mix. Otherwise, you end up with Eragon, and no one wants that.

More like Luke Skywhiner, amiright?

5. Your Character Should Want Something.

If your protagonist doesn’t want something, there is no story. Ideally, this something should be more than a Macguffin, but that’s not a deal breaker. Katniss Everdeen enters the Hunger Games to save her sister.  Alanna of Trebond wants to prove her worth as a knight, even though she’s a girl. Percy Jackson wants to rescue his mom from the underworld. Bella Swan wants…a boyfriend. Okay, okay–I promise that’s the last Twilight dig in this post.

“The Maltese MacGuffin” doesn’t have quite the same ring to it….

The motivation can, and perhaps should, change over the course of the story. In Neil Gaiman’s StardustTristran Thorn begins his journey across the wall in order to find a fallen star. His motivation is simple, if misguided: he wants to impress the beautiful Victoria Forester. Once he finds the star, however, a complication arises. The star is an injured woman named Yvaine. They journey back towards Tristran’s hometown, pursued by witches and assassins, and his original motivation evolves as he falls in love with Yvaine.

6. Your Character Should Change Over Time.

Artemis Fowl begins his literary existence as an anti-hero. In the first book, he kidnaps the character who is arguably the heroine, the elf Holly Short, and holds her for ransom, nearly plunging the world into a cross-species war over his own greed. Over the course of the series (note: I haven’t read the last one yet), he develops a conscience and learns to rely on others. His journey from villain to hero involves a lot of setbacks, and while the seeds of goodness and vulnerability were always part of his character, it took a long time for them to sprout.

Just as your character’s motivation drives the plot, the events of the plot should shape your character in some way. While you want to avoid altering their basic traits and personality, I think a dynamic character, who learns and grows over time, is more interesting than a static character.