What Kitchen?

                Something has been annoying me about fiction recently – in films as well as books or comics – and it’s something that I feel should have annoyed me for a longer time than it has. It’s grown from a niggle at the back of my mind whenever I see it into a full-fledged eye-roll with a ‘forget that’ wiping across my mind. Part of what annoys me about it is that I get annoyed by it at all; more on this later. The other part is that it should, based on certain arguments, be something that affects approximately 50% of main characters and an equal percentage of supporting characters, including villains.

                What is this, you ask? It’s female characters.

                Not that they exist; I firmly believe they should – in fact, that they almost need to. Not that they do – or even don’t – conform to a stereotype. No, my problem is that I over analyse exactly how they have been used and look into how it could have been done better. This in turn takes me out of the story, usually through no fault of the writing, editing, acting or direction (as appropriate), preventing me from receiving fully immersed enjoyment of the fiction I’m reading or watching.

                This obviously stems from a lot of things going on at the moment. The biggest factor in making me address how I look at this element of writing is the public response. I have been utterly disappointed with critics, the public, some friends and even myself with my response to these events and so I had to address it. Now, because I am not (yet) the most important person in the world, or close to that position, I can’t go out and change things without risking my job and a couple of other things quite important to me. How I can make a change is looking at how I write female characters. Small, but something affected by how I think and approach the subject.

                I like to think that my female characters, for the most part, have been strong and ‘progressive’ (read: able to escape most, if not all, stereotypes of females in fiction). For NaNoWriMo (National November Writing Month) I am writing a fantasy piece in which the lead character is female but does not fall into a role of character traditionally represented by her character. What are these roles? Unfortunately I do not have a complete list BUT I do have a few of the negative examples given in a video by a woman who reviews games quite critically. I have noticed she doesn’t talk about the positive roles women have in games or the strong female characters in games but that’s not the point of her vlog, so I guess I can forgive that.

                First up is the damsel-in-distress. Princess Peach is my primary example but there are countless others which I’m sure you could name if you tried. This is also the case in fiction; brave knight saves terrified princess about to be sacrificed to giant sea beastie, for example. The entire role of this character is to give the male protagonist a reason to go on their adventure – to kick-start the plot as it were. Why is this bad? Analyzing it in summary; woman can’t fend for herself, overpowered by evil male character, only men can be heroes. The defining characteristic of the damsel is ‘weak’ and/or ‘helpless’. This is a very difficult basis for a strong character, especially if they make no attempt to escape of help themselves.  

                The second example I’ll name here is the Eve with an Apple. This character is there to tempt the protagonist – usually male – into doing something wrong, evil or questionable which causes the plot to proceed. The seductress, the succubus, the one who has already turned to evil. She looks to convert the main character to the bad side to excuse her own failure, to prove she wasn’t weak. The main character refusing her only proves that she was.

                Third and final role is woman-in-the-refrigerator. This is a new term for me and originates from a Green Lantern issue in which the (male) protagonist finds, you guessed it, his wife in his refrigerator! This gives the comic plot and is the only thing this ‘character’ provides. Now, when this or the damsel character appear the issue is not really that they’re female is the problem (although this can and probably will be argued); it is that they are the only female character, or their character is only constituted by this element, defined by weakness or failure and related strongly to their femininity.

                These are traditional or conventional roles for women in fiction – not the only ones by a long way, but as far as gender stereotyping goes they are the easiest ones to name. They’re also going to be the ones I advise you never, ever use in your fiction unless you flesh out the character a lot more. Of course you can have a damsel-in-distress, but think about why she is in distress. Ideally, give them something else they are good at. If she’s a princess, make her more than a beautiful object to be saved; make her good at running her country or have other abilities that make her worth abducting or threatening. She should be more than a title and female; this is a weak character.

                The same is true for the other two roles – if the woman-in-the-refrigerator has no back story beyond the protagonist’s lover or family member then they are effectively reduced to bait. The same is true for Eves-with-Apples; if all they do is try to coerce the protagonist into betraying something or someone and then they are thin characters at best. Again this is easily solved by fleshing out the characters.

                How can you do that? Well, back story is your finest weapon here. If they have a reason for doing what they’re doing and how they got there then the reader can get on board with their motives. Maybe they were born into it, maybe they had a religious epiphany, or maybe there were several factors that lead them to where they are in your story. Make it clear and make it understandable, or at least intelligible. An author’s ability to make their characters believable is roughly proportionate to how well the reader understands said character.

                So apart from fleshing out the character what else can you do to make your fictional females seem realistic and strong? Try juxtaposing them against weak male characters – this is definitely allowed. Part of the problem with women in fiction is that they seem to be required to portray weakness rather than strength; they are the comparable character for the hero’s positive elements. So have a weak male character – Sherlock Holmes and Watson are a good example. If you find a problem with having a weak male character, I suggest you reconsider whether or not you bring culturally pre-defined and possibly sexist views into your writing.

                The other thing you can do is not make gender define your character. Try writing a short story with a male protagonist and then changing all of their pronouns. Congratulations; you’ve just written a female character exactly as you would a male one. Men and women are both equally able to display the same behaviours and perform the same actions. Therefore the gender of a character should only influence their actions if there is a very good reason in your story for it doing so. A lot of writers I talk to say they have issues writing female characters. I cannot understand how this can be the case unless they bring pre-conceived ideas to their writing about ‘how women should behave’.

                And there’s the problem with women in fiction; their writers. Some are a product of their time or culture – it is a fact that societies and cultures influence their people – and some are a product of sexist writers. It might be an active opinion they hold, or something ingrained that they aren’t even aware of. If you’re worried about it take a step back and think about whether you wrote the character the way you wanted, or the way you thought they should be written. If you answer with option B, you may want to have another look at your ‘female character’, just in case she turns out to actually be a regurgitation of out-dated and negative imagery.

Making Magic

     I have finally found time to get another blogpost up! It only took about a month…so much for my bold and optimistic plans, right? This has been due to looking into finding a new job and, more importantly, writing a lot more fiction! <Cue fanfare> If everything I’ve submitted over the last month weeks gets published then I’m making myself about $650 – or approximate four hundred and fifty Great British pounds! This is approximately a third to a quarter of my actual pay check so even if I keep it up every month (unlikely at this stage, sadly) it will hardly do anything as helpful as paying the bills. It will, however, be immensely welcome in my bank account nonetheless.

It will also mean I’m a published author! Why is this exciting? I’ll explain: ‘published’ also means ‘professional’, and that’s a title I’ve been chasing for over ten years – that’s right, readers; I’ve spent two thirds of my life pursuing, with a greater or lesser amount of effort, that goal and this month is the best chance I have of achieving it! Which means if I don’t I will be extremely upset BUT will just have to try harder – or submit my work elsewhere.

    This increased drive towards publication has been caused, as well as supported, by my writing group. This is the first week I won’t be attending so thought I would write a bit of a tribute to them here. I can only be thankful for the support, advice and criticism they have provided – if you are looking at writing seriously I would highly recommend finding a group of like-minded individuals to meet with on a regular basis. It’s surprising what gems of wisdom your friends have already discovered and, in my experience, are only too happy to trade and share.

     My group has semi-officially been entitled, ‘Mightier Than The Sword’, and all references to the other members here will be done using cleverly-devised pseudonyms which, unlike my normal method that claims a person’s real name is a false one, come from the first main character I encountered (and can remember). While the group is also a semi-official entity we have got a structure to our meetings that really helps order our thoughts and the feedback we get or give. More detail on this will be in a future post, but for now I’m moving on to something we have discussed in depth during our general discussion period – which usually happens while we eat/order food.

One of the most common themes of this discussion time – possibly the element of writing we have spent the most time on – is magic. We are all big geeks, something which may be of little surprise considering we are a group who meet to discuss escapism on a regular basis, and so magic is something we are very interested in as an element of writing. And the one thing we all agreed on, without any discussion, was that a writer has to be extremely careful how it is used.

     The problem with magic, or a magic system, is that it represents a vast challenge for the writer in that they have to make a reader believe it is real, or could be real. A wizard clicking his fingers and producing a fireball to engulf his foes is definitely cool, but if the wizard has that kind of power why are there any other characters? Is magic limited in anyway? If it is limited, how are those limits displayed? And, importantly, how can the writer convey this information in a compelling and interesting way? If a reader cannot reasonably explain a magic system to an interested non-reader then the author has failed in that endeavor themselves.

     If someone buys a fantasy novel, they expect plot, character development, a couple of twists and, if they’re an experienced reader, the potential for important character tragedy or loss. No one really wants to read a text book about a make-believe magic system. Some readers might enjoy it, but I think that if they found it hidden in the middle of an epic adventure they may be somewhat jolted out of the main story.

     So how can writers weave this information into plot and character development? To answer this I will throw out the first of two authors who are named at nearly every Mightier Than The Sword meeting, and this is Brandon Sanderson.  I name him as the most relevant, rather the most prestigious – to forestall any debate this may cause, notably among our group – as he is well known for his innovative and creative magic systems. He has three rules of making a magic system and rather than waste time/look like I’m claiming credit for them, you can instead find them here. By following these rules, perhaps with a little bending involved, I can confidently say you will be on your way to creating a magic system your reader will understand, appreciate and also have expectations of. So when the wizard throws a fireball, it has meaning beyond immolation – you will have a greater idea of how the action impacts the wizard, the other characters, and you will also be able to understand the theory of how it was done which will go some  way towards preventing deus ex machima uses of magic.

     Limiting magic can be said to remove some of its mystery; if a reader has been given all of the rules for a system then they will know exactly how and when magic can be used, right? Harking back to text-book avoidance, I don’t mean you have to give a description so detailed it’s painful. For starters, even the discovery of the system can be mysterious – in Sanderson’s Elantris the discovery of the magic system forms one of the major story arcs and the entire book hinges upon it. By simply telling the reader what the limits and mechanical elements of the system are, Sanderson does not remove the mystery of it. I promise you I found it the most interesting story element and I was looking for ways to pull it apart.

     Most of Mightier Than The Sword are currently devising/using magic systems created with the above rule set and so far we are all having meeting with success in doing so. Korvé is writing one based on particles and close-to scientific process; Torgan is using something similar to super-powers which are monitored or policed by the beings that grant them; Kappa is playing with an alchemical system; and I am running with something that’s quasi-spiritual. This should demonstrate the variety of system you can create using the rules Sanderson has made, if nothing else.

     

     I am certainly not saying you must use these rules; I’m strongly suggesting you consider them. It helps readers understand your world on a level they might not otherwise get an insight to. Korvé raised the good example of Harry Potter; while you are always told Voldemort is one of the most powerful wizards that ever lived, it is never explained why or how this is the case, or came to be. Also, since Potter-wizards use a set of generic spells it’s difficult to judge comparable strength or ability between wizards.

     That wraps up my post. I will revisit magic and its place in stories at a later date; that, I can guarantee. This is an important starting point though, and some of the lesson can be applied to other elements of your story which, again, I will discuss in the future. For now I hope this gives you pause for thought and something to consider. Read long and write well, readers!