#pointless rambles

I read a critique of a book that compared the characters to the relative popularity/interest level in Loki and Thor, saying that Loki is more interesting because he has conflicts and changing/growing motivations and desires he pursues that come from within, whereas Thor is basically content with his life of drinking, fighting and sex, and only reacts to external threats. I can see their point. At the same time, point one is that there’s nothing wrong with external threats driving an adventure narrative. That’s a valid and often interesting story structure. In fact, it’s arguably necessary for a serialized adventure story. Point two is that basically happy and well-adjusted people can have growth and interesting motivations and reactions… they just happen differently, or more subtly and slowly perhaps.

From what I can tell, the problem with that book’s main character was that she was ultimately not used in an interesting way by the narrative, and nothing super interesting happened for her to react to or grow from. Thor is different ‘cause you can do almost anything with a comic superhero character in general and Thor in particular, as we can see even in the range of tone and subject matter in current Marvel Thor movies. I mean, most stories that care about plot basically need a main character constructed like Thor, while antagonists and secondary characters are more free to have overarching agendas. At the same time, putting that kind of hero into a smaller, more character-driven story is also possible, as a lot of fanfic demonstrates.

Anyway, this makes me wonder what the 'secret’ of making a naturally well-adjusted character like Thor interesting in a smaller story would be. Basically, what if the stuff the main character has to react to is just… not that gripping, or kind of predictable, or even not the point? Does the character have to be dramatic in and of themselves then?

The main 'secret’ is the relationship/relationships developed between the characters, as far as I can tell. The 'main character’ is not the point; the dynamic is the point of interest. That’s not to say I actually think only striving, conflicted characters like Loki are truly interesting. Thor is interesting! You can’t really be 'too boring’ or 'too normal’ for a story to be great; that’s actually ridiculous. Being conflicted and intense as a person is essentially just easier. It’s a shortcut, basically. As a writer, that story writes itself. It’s just… with someone like Thor and without an external source of conflict, I think suddenly you have to have some subtlety and attention to detail, noticing all the tiny things in life that actually matter and make it feel 'real’ and important as you’re living it. You can reveal hidden depths and subtleties in any character, even if they’re just going out to a bar with friends. It’s just… easy to fail, and hard to keep the reader’s attention.

I think a lot of writers also write 'normal’ and well-adjusted characters without being very intentional about it, unlike good fanfic writers, who generally are fixated and obsessed with every tiny detail about Thor. Like, the writer may use broad strokes too much with such a character, or not be good enough at capturing small, mundane moments in an elegant, vivid manner. They may even believe their smaller stakes plot may fool readers into thinking it’s super important. Essentially, the problem is generally the writer not respecting their readers’ intelligence and not being interested enough in their own main character.

Heya, didja miss me? haha *taps mic* Testing, testing. Is anyone even here?

I’m not in fandom, but I did miss rambling about stories enough that I did it in an Amazon review for a sci-fi romance on Kindle Unlimited. Enough factors combined that I was both alarmed and curious, so I skimmed to the end and it appears the alien hero murders the human heroine within a few paragraphs of the end, during what should be their wedding, because she refuses to have sex in public, in front of her daughter. They go straight from ‘no this is culturally inappropriate’ to 'sure okay I’ll die for my cultural norms’ and the hero just goes with it no problem, though he declares his love as he does it. Well then.

I don’t generally write Amazon reviews, and this isn’t a review, per se. I was curious about the ending and so I read the very end (instead of the very beginning). Things that stood out as bad, more so than the big shocking twist:

- Internal motivations aren’t clear, or even mentioned, even at a pivotal moment.

- Further, internal conflict (where obviously expected) is missing and not shown or told. This makes the big event– the hero murders the heroine– fall flat.

- It has no emotional leverage because of the way it comes out of nowhere (even within a page’s length) and has no apparent build-up or space for denouement. This sort of reliance on a shocking end twist and a surfacey and disconnected narrative is a sign of very, very amateur writing.

- You should not be able to follow the action in the ending from a quick glance. That is a sign, in and of itself, that the ending is apparently disconnected from the story and may even be considered random, just an end because the author needed something to happen and likes pointless drama. Lack of denouement makes the drama pointless in and of itself.

- There’s a reason big things happen in the middle of the book (the big crisis point) and not the end. That’s because readers feel cheated when it happens at the end, and emotionally satisfying plot or character arcs are made impossible, unless the whole work is a tragedy. Note, tragedies are the opposite of sudden. The whole point of Romeo and Juliet is the ending, and it’s built up from the first word Shakespeare wrote in the play. A tragedy is not a love story; they’re two different genres using human romantic relationships as a theme.

- Basically, these few pages at the end are enough to prove to me reading the book would be a pointless waste of my time. I do like analyzing why not, though, so here you go.

So I was thinking, broadly, about romance/attraction and the idea of insta-love and how that gets parsed for m/f vs m/m. I see a lot of it. I see so much of it that I don’t think it even registers unless it’s *love*. Like, for ex instant attraction and sudden/fast physicality in m/m stories and fic is pretty much the default. It may even be less overtly prevalent in straight romance. In gay romance, if you’re not having sexual thoughts at first sight, you’re probably a closeted and/or repressed character. The standard really depends on characters being modern and out, though. Not modern or not out are accepted reasons to have slow-burn and/or denial.

In m/f romance, often enough sex is deferred, but generally only because it’s seen as the ‘prize’ where the hero is having some emotional experience rather than merely physical. Generally, many authors even go to extreme (and silly) extents to defer het sex just so it wouldn’t be meaningless at first. Though of course sometimes you have a lot of sex and that’s the path to a lasting relationship and the reason for angst/development. This is common in m/m stuff, less so in contemporary m/f, which clearly seems unfortunate, or at least retrograde somehow. The women definitely feel fast attraction too, but excuses are made, obstacles arise and sex remains a reward.

Anyway, it’s rare when sex isn’t had and kisses aren’t either, *but* it’s just because that’s the natural progression and not 1) the author is very clearly not into writing smut and so sex feels like it isn’t really real anyway, so kisses may substitute for the timing sex would have; 2) there’s the the reward dynamic where it’s used as a motivation for change or a reward at the end, like I mentioned.

Alternatively, of course, there’s the insta-love phenomenon. It almost never happens in m/m romance, though it does in fic 'cause of the desire to skip to the good part we all know is real from fanon. In m/f romance, I suspect it’s a get-out-of-jail-free card so you can have sex as early as desired 'cause the emotions are in the bag. This sort of manipulation gets old, though it can be done better or worse. You start seeing gradations after enough exposure. I like mating bonds. At least it’s an excuse.

What happens in male-written m/f action/plot driven stuff is something else again. Kisses from the woman are sort of used as currency or a reward, which is bullshit, but a similar dynamic exists in female-written stuff, except the reward is held back longer. It’s hard to be incensed since the whole thing is stupid. There’s always more and less annoying ways to go about it, though.

WithGood Omens, I could tell the witch and the witch hunter were set up structurally. That’s more of a connection than you can expect, like the guy in the Battle Angel Alita movie– he was just the first her age to pay attention to her. Here, the exchange (so far) is more straightforward in that it’s sex/kissing (attraction under extreme circumstances) and not a shoehorned “love” of convenience. The two things are pretty different. If anything, I support random pairings based on physical attraction. That’s realistic, 100%. There don’t need to be Deep Thoughts or Feelings involved. That’s where it all goes wrong: romanticizing sex for spurious reasons. Possibly to placate women or moralistic people. I dunno.

Slow-burns that feel real and earned and not like people who fight their attraction for invented reasons are rare like hen’s teeth. Honestly it also works better when you have characters who are asexual or closeted. Normally, people don’t need deep or meaningful reasons to have sex or even have a relationship, unless there are outside factors. Especially het people. Like, I dunno, this applies to average guys in bars but even a guy like the one in Good Omens (the schmuck) ultimately is just a guy who never wanted to be a schmuck and will take the first opportunity to stop, definitely.

I was reading through Stiefvater’s blog post about her health struggles, specifically thinking about the mentions of the rather predictable fandom response to the resulting errors in The Raven King, her absences from touring, etc. I was thinking about how fandom– and online culture in general– tends to catastrophize, assume the worst of people but specifically creators. Naturally, that’s if we’re not idolizing our faves. Maybe you can’t have one without the other, I’m not sure.

Even when I agree in principle– for ex, about queerbaiting issues– in the end I disagree when the discussion frequently turns to intent. Some people do talk about queerbaiting regardless of creator intent, but that’s a touchy topic and a difficult balance to strike, isn’t it? If you’re upset, you want to blame someone. And if you see something wrong, the default assumption (even if it’s a reasoning error) is that it’s intentional. No one thinks to imagine the thing that irritates or hurts them is just a largely meaningless accident, let alone a result of totally unrelated personal issues like with Stiefvater. Surely it’s got to be related, people reason. Surely it’s about you.

However, the fact is, 95% of the time, I’m guessing it’s not, in fact, about you, or me, or us (or even them). It’s about the creator(s) and whatever their needs, desires and personal issues are. So yeah, I’m guessing most creators don’t do anything either for or against fandom, most of the time. Is that an ugly truth, or just boring?

Sometimes creators want to keep you in suspense. That does happen. JK Rowling and Moffat, for example, are both fans of playing with fans’ minds in that way. But it’s not personal. It’s a part of the performance, rather. In the case of shocking plot reveals, your shock as the audience is part of the theater of it all. Actually, this kind of audience manipulation is probably as old as stories. I’d imagine Shakespeare must have been a fan of the shocking reveal/reversal where possible. Romeo and Juliet is full of that sort of thing. And that play really plays with the audience, too. I only imagine it was limited by the fact that it wasn’t a long-term serial. Alas.

Anyway, back to the point. Anytime someone assumes the creator(s) are out to get you (or us) just for kicks and/or for some even more nefarious reason, I’d take a step back and indulge in some healthy skepticism. Not that I expect this to happen anytime soon, alas.

If you look up fanart for Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comic, you’re going to see something weird, but consistent. In fact, it’s weird *because* it’s so consistent. Even when the art is done by clearly pro-level artists, the depiction of Despair– a fat woman– is almost always amazingly bad. Like, we’re talking she barely looks female, and often enough barely looks like a human (even though, of course, technically she’s not). Or, alternatively, she barely looks comfortably plump. We’re talking either man-shoulders and a rugged jaw (to go with the man-belly, I guess?), or looking like an average middle-aged soccer mom. That’s if she looks human, particularly in extra cartoony styles where every other character is super idealized. Despair is just like a weird vaguely person-shaped blob in those styles. I almost feel bad for them, ‘cause I suppose it’s hard to imagine ugly fat women could be cute. And yet, you know, fat babies are cute, so…. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, why am I posting about this, you might ask. Well, I remember being at a con one time, where another Harry Potter fan suggested I draw her some overweight women. I realized my plentiful female doodles were all too similar and their bodies were definitely idealized, but I wasn’t super motivated to draw people who looked more like me. I say that, even though it actually meant a lot to me to read about a character like Despair when I was a teenager. I may have liked literally every other member of the Endless more and found them cooler and more interesting, but I identified with Despair. I liked seeing her unapologetically fat body, defying the audience– and the world– to look at it. She wasn’t pretty but she felt real to me. She was too depressed to be too self-conscious about being naked in public, and dammit, I liked that. I loved how real Despair was.

So the main thing that offends and bothers me is that to all these people– let’s say 8 out of ten artists– Despair isn’t real at all. We’re mainly talking about pro artists who can clearly render human bodies well, but I’ve also noticed that beginner fanartists whose poses and perspective all need work also have the most trouble portraying a grossly fat, naked woman believably. No matter what, Despair always looks the worst. It’s really like they’re not trying, and sometimes she’s in fact left out of Endless fanart entirely.

It’s not like it’s a shocker that people have issues with fat or that it’s often ignored of idealized away even in photos these days. I know how it is. It’s just surprising to see this obvious of a skill gap. As an artist, I like to think I want to portray everything I attempt with skill. I certainly wouldn’t want to just leave an obvious blooper on a finished, otherwise well-rendered work. Not purposely, at least. Not after attaining a level of some excellence in overall performance. And yet, these bloopers are common. People just really don’t want to try to 'draw what you see’ if what you see is a naked, grossly fat woman.

Obviously, I mean, truly pro comics artists, such as the one(s) who actually worked on The Sandman, can and do draw Despair realistically. So this is specific to stuff they may *choose* or want to do, as opposed to stuff they’re paid for. And the fact is, they simply don’t want to spend any real effort on fat women. I fact, many artists (and possibly people in general) seem to have some sort of mental blind spot when it comes to fat women. To draw Despair so masculine in more than one case, it’s hard not to conclude these artists are men who implicitly categorize fat women as 'not really female’. This is not even subtle sometimes. In at least one case, everyone else looked great but Despair looked a lot like a smaller version of Thing, from the Fantastic Four. You know, the mutant stone guy with the huge shoulders. Then there’s the drawing where Despair’s skin is literally gray, and instead of curves and roundness, it looks simply like it’s a creature with no obvious anatomy whatsoever, aside from being vaguely humanoid (again, this weird look only applied to Despair, not the others). I’m trying not to project, but this seems really obvious to me from what I’ve seen. A part of me thinks it’s better when Despair looks well rendered, just not really fat. But that’s just a different kind of issue.

I’m sort of insulted, but mostly just bewildered, even though I’m not surprised. It’s not like I myself generally choose to draw fat women. It’s just I’d make an effort if that was what I was going for. I certainly wouldn’t pretend Despair didn’t really matter if everyone else looked great. Although I will say all this has certainly made me think I should probably practice drawing fat ladies after all. I guess my HP fandom friend was onto something.

There are certain things in a post or book review (usually on Amazon) that tell me that the fan in question is projecting rather than actually seeing the story or characters clearly. Today I saw pretty much all of these in reviews to Sapphire Flames by Ilona Andrews, which is a spin-off to a popular urban fantasy series:

• Why does the love interest like the protagonist (if I don’t like the protagonist and/or it’s not spelled out)
  
• Why is the protagonist overly like the former protagonist, who is her sister (or too unlike the protagonist, whose personality was better)
• Why would any ostensibly competent adult character behave irrationally with someone they don’t know that well but like? Clearly it’s bad writing
• Why would any ostensibly competent adult make mistakes or irrational choices we disagree with or find silly? The characters can only be likable or respected if they’re always sensible and mature, after all. Clearly it’s just more bad writing
• How could the old favorite, the former protagonist, possibly have failed to do X rational/logical thing? Clearly it’s out of character
• How could the main romantic relationship in an ongoing series not be resolved by the end of the first book? Clearly it’s a major plot hole
• How could a minor character’s motivation possibly be what the text suggests, if the subtext says it’s in fact something else? Clearly that too is a plot hole
• How could one pick up up on these seeming contradictions or subtext and not have it be unintentional? Clearly, only the reviewers are smart, not the authors.

Crazy stuff. It’s interesting because I actually have read another genre book by a usually decent author where the characters did do rational things and behaved reasonably even in their romantic relationship, at least 90% of the time. The only time I was remotely invested in the story was the brief period where the love interest was behaving irrationally, but that was resolved easily enough and without even overly hurt feelings. All these people can’t even imagine how mind-numbing it is to read about the rational behavior of reasonable people, and then somehow end up asking yourself why the love interest likes the female main character, too. So it’s not like I can’t relate, per se. In this case, at least it’s just that he never shows much impulsivity and it’s based on a magical mate bond, so the later declarations of love just feel really out of left field. It’s more like they’re glad they got all that angsty beginning relationship stuff all but skipped over and can now be reasonable and dependable together. Close enough to love, surely? Conversely, Andrews’ love interest may also be a competent adult who’s focused primarily on work and/or his mission,  but he’s portrayed as a passionate Italian man for all that. He’s human.

I should note, characters whose behavior is truly irrational are maddening to read. Here, I just mean it ‘doesn’t make sense in context’, though. Usually it either involves a dependence on a character’s overreactions to get the character to do dangerous but plot-needed things consistently, or the character simply doesn’t process some basic, logically apparent aspect of the plot until it’s conveniently too late. That’s very, very frustrating. But way too many people forget that while it’s bad writing to force irrational behavior to drive plot (known colloquially as a female protagonist being TSTL), the fact is that we are all TSTL sometimes. The trick to a character acting irrational and making it work, as Ilona Andrews demonstrates, is twofold: have the character (or others) be as aware of this failing as possible, and contrast the irrational behavior with some instances of competence and common sense. Note, I’m saying that a character being ‘rational’ enough is about stuff like not constantly running into danger with no weapons, or failing to follow up on misunderstandings. It’s not about thinking five steps ahead or not making emotionally driven decisions in general.

The fact that some people don’t get this only suggests they’re projecting, or their own decisions are probably generally not emotionally driven, in the case of this particular issue.  Of course, this doesn’t bother me as much as times where people point out basic subtext as if it’s a critique to notice those things, rather than an observation of an intentional aspect of the book. Sometimes it’s literally like some readers (or worse, writers) have never heard of subtext before. This leads both to bad writing and bad reading.

I skimmed an introduction to Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card, where he says a bunch of cool things about the often very personal and diverse responses to the themes and characters in his book. He talks about the much discussed truth in fandom that the reason stories stick with us is ultimately because they’re *about* us, and the story is only truly created in the interplay or with the collaboration of the writer and the reader. That’s such a big truth, and it was cool to see an official writer’s perspective rather than a reader’s response, for once. He was so warmly insightful on the subject that I was strongly tempted to actually read the book(s), enough to put it on my to-read list, even though I’ve heard lots of things that make me think I’ll be disappointed eventually, especially reading as an adult who’s seen the stuff he’d said about queer people. But that’s neither here nor there. My point is, stories are always most meaningful when they’re *your* story.

Consequently, the simple truth is, I don’t need to have a ‘good enough’ excuse for why I can’t get myself to give things like reverse harem romance or threesomes in fanfic a chance. And conversely, I should stop beating my head against the wall of other people’s inevitably diverse reactions, even if they share some broad opinion (such as generally rejecting any reverse harem storylines). Their lives are different. They are different. Their book experience is never going to be the same, no matter how many starting point opinions we share.

This is, of course, the opposite of fannishness, so maybe that’s why it’s so hard for me to accept. Fandom says the things we like in stories can be shared, not just among friends, but broad swathes of people. Orson Scott Card wasn’t talking about anything so large-scale, though. At most, he was saying a group of people with a shared real life experience– specifically, being a military rescue pilot– has a common approach to and interest in his book. That’s not the same as simply happening to share an interest or framework, is it? It’s not simply that there are these fans, all of whom like to focus on the military aspect of Ender’s Game. It’s not about reading preference. Hell, I’d bet many of these people don’t even like reading, particularly. It’s about identity: their identity, Ender’s identity, and the places they intersect.

It’s funny, because while I can easily take Ender’s Game itself seriously, a part of me has a hard time treating something as pulpy as reverse harem romance sci-fi the same way. Plenty of people treat all science fiction as not being 'real’ literature. But from all accounts, it’s simply written better than your average pulpy sci-fi romance. This difference in quality is distracting. It’s also hard to talk about identity and deeper meaning with stuff that’s much, much more escapist and unrealistic than even something like Ender’s Game. But the fact is, who you are as the reader is the constant. It applies to every single piece of fiction, no matter how badly written or ridiculous. Someone who’s pragmatic by nature and focused on their job as their source of identity would need books that reflect something of their real life experiences to be truly meaningful. And then there are people (like me and maybe even many reverse harem fans) that can relate to all sorts of things that have nothing to do with their real life experience, because their identity isn’t necessarily tied into their work or everyday environment. Maybe it’s their gender/orientation or their creative interest or hobby that provides their identity. Those things can get pretty far transformed and still retain their basic nature.

Anyway, the fact is that I relate most strongly to my ideals and values as the source of identity. It’s a no-brainer that anything that goes against my central values in the romantic sphere would be dead on arrival as far as romantic fiction goes. It would mean a story that says nothing to me. Other people may share my values (as in, one is more than enough in relationships), but their source of identity and connection may lie elsewhere in a given story. That’s all that would take for a potentially significantly altered personal reaction to the storyline. For me, of course, the value question would instinctively overrule any other concern, but that’s me. There are as many possibilities for readings as there are readers, and sometimes we just aren’t ready or it’s too late for a particular book to matter. Every story has its place and time, as well as its ideal reader. It’s really amazing, actually, that I still enjoy and relate to as many characters and stories as I do. That’s definitely something I count as a blessing.