Saturday, 25 July 2020

Dead Mothers and How to Avoid Them

It’s especially notable for Disney movies, but also happens in many other forms of media: mothers of main characters, especially teens or young adults, tend to turn up dead either before or during the story. That’s a tired trope by now and there are ways to avoid that and still have the main character have their adventure.

 

First of all, why do authors kill off the mother? In some old fairy tales, the mothers are replaced with the ‘evil stepmother’ - which mostly was a move by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, who didn’t like the idea that the birth mother would try to kill their own children, so they made the mothers in stories like Hansel and Gretel or Snow White stepmothers instead. In other stories, the mothers are just dead and thus can’t help their children - or only through supernatural means.

Parents are a liability, especially to characters in stories for teens or in young adult novels - they may keep the main character from doing something stupid, but necessary for the plot. The easy solution to this would, of course, be ‘not to do something stupid, even for the plot’, but that’s rarely feasible. Besides, people (young and old alike) do stupid things all the time, so it’s not as if those protagonists are alone in that.

While the fathers often show little interest in their children, it would be weird for most people to write a mother like that. Mothers care, that’s one of their regular traits (although not necessary always true in reality), they keep an eye out for their children and that means they wouldn’t let their child go off on a quest or decide to travel with a suspicious stranger. For that to happen, the mother needs to be removed.

 

As mentioned, though, there are quite some ways around that. The “Don’t tell my parents…” series doesn’t remove Penny’s parents most of the time, unless it’s short-time for a few days when they’re travelling to meetings or suchlike. Instead, Penny is forced to work around her parents to do what is necessary. Since she’s a genius-type character, that’s a fitting solution - she has the brains to do it and this is part of ‘showing, not telling’, too. In the same series, one of Penny’s friends has uncaring parents who neglect him, anyway, so he doesn’t have to find solutions to disappear on them - they don’t care where he is or what he does.

The first Artemis Fowl novel, unlike the movie supposedly based on it, removes his mother from the equitation through sickness, which means she doesn’t have an eye on his actions, but which also motivates one of his actions later in the story. Later on, he carefully works around his parents, something his genius trait makes possible - very much like Penny’s, too.

If you’re working in a fantasy or sci-fi setting, sending a teenager or young adult on a quest alone might even be a regular thing and their mother wouldn’t mind them going on it. That’s the advantage of speculative fiction - it just depends on what kind of world and what kind of family you are showing.

 

Especially today, with many working mothers, it’s not that hard to give teens and young adults the necessary freedom to make stupid decisions for plot reasons. Teens and above aren’t exactly the kind of people everyone would want to watch around the clock, so they can do what they need while they’re not watched. Teens are also traditionally good at sneaking out of the house at night and doing stuff they’re not supposed to do. It’s an extra challenge, but will also provide the story with extra tension - will our protagonist manage to keep their parents in the dark about their midnight trip to the suspicious carnival or will they be caught?

There are many reasons why the mother doesn’t stop her child from doing something stupid (or at least unwise). She might be otherwise occupied (see the working mum) and thus not around while her child is planning. The child may be keeping the knowledge from her, claiming to stay with a good friend for the night when really going to that suspicious carnival. The mother might not care about the child - which isn’t nice, but quite realistic. There’s also always the option (with older teens and above) that the parents go on a short trip, leaving the child behind to look after themselves - which then opens the door for going to that suspicious carnival.

There’s also the ‘boarding school’ route: the teen or young adult in question isn’t at home to begin with, but at a boarding school, college, or another place where teens or young adults would stay. That opens the door for nominal guardians, but they might want the protagonist to do the stupid thing or might simply be otherwise occupied (since they have more than one, two, or three children to keep an eye on).

 

In young adult fiction it is especially unnecessary to kill off the mother - the protagonist is nominally adult, so they are supposed to make their own decisions and their parents or other guardians can’t stop them from going to that carnival, anyway.

In those cases, I think, mothers might serve as mentors or have their children’s back in another way. They are another part of the social network a protagonist has and can be very useful that way.

 

I have a few characters who are orphans myself (Jane most of all, while Inez is actually having her adventures with her adopted father), but then, I’m not dealing in teen or young adult literature and all of my regulars are well above eighteen and thus adults by the law. My reason for Jane being an orphan (like everyone else in her department) wasn’t to keep parents out of the equitation, but as an explanation how she could start training at the age of ten and how her colleagues can easily change identity when necessary - they all have no family outside the agency who might worry or whom they might miss. On the other hand, I also have mothers in my stories. Alex Dorsey is very close with her mother, who provides emotional support and always has. John Stanton’s mother is regularly mentioned together with the rest of his family. Isadora Goode is estranged from her mother as much as from the rest of her family, while Lisabet Lewis’ mother still worries for her, even after she’s changed sides.

 

Mothers can be very useful. They’re another source of information for your cosy detective (since mothers often know all and sundry and can easily fish for information). They can provide useful objects (from an old piece of jewellery that has been in the family for generations to just a hamper with food for the nightly stakeout). They can simply be sounding boards for the main character, listening to them and providing another insight. They don’t deserve death, they’re far too useful alive.

Saturday, 18 July 2020

Review: Vinnie De Soth, Jobbing Occultist

I bought “Vinnie De Soth, Jobbing Occultist” during a shopping spree for books by I.A. Watson who is one of my favourite pulp writers. Didn’t get around to reading it - as happens often with my shopping sprees - and picked it up just a few weeks ago to check it out. I finished it in less than a day, just couldn’t put it down.

 

Vinnie is introduced to us through the eyes of a young legal secretary sent to hire him for her company - which was ordered to hire him by another company, as you do in the business world. The first inkling that there was a connection to other I.A. Watson stories I’d read was when Sir Mumphrey turned up as a character Vinnie’s next door neighbour should send a letter to should he not be back in two weeks’ time. Another character in the first story was taken from the Transdimensional Transport Company, where he’s usually a villain. In the afterword, author I.A. Watson admits that he has created some sort of ‘cinematic universe’ for himself, where Sir Mumphrey can work on all that derring-do, the TTC can fit in any kind of weird science, and Vinnie can handle the horror stuff. As Vinnie definitely can.

 

Vinnie himself is a very nice guy - well, most of the time. He’s always down on his luck, clearly hardly makes money in his job as occultist, yet is always ready to help people without asking for money. There are, however, also suggestions right from the beginning that there’s more to him. He’s a member of one of the Nine Houses, the nine magical bloodlines of the western hemisphere - and he’s a pretty strong mage, too. Yet, Vinnie has turned his back on the family and on his past, rather living from day to day, meeting his possible clients in his ‘office’ under the stairs in the backroom of an occult bookstore, than being a member of the powerful De Soth clan. Penny, the legal secretary in question, finds him a nice, but a little awkward guy who usually says more than he should, but knows what he’s doing.

I.A. Watson wouldn’t be himself, though, if Vinnie were the only weird or interesting character in the series of shorter stories. He introduces characters like Tanner (a powerful elder werewolf who hates seers, although he works with one), Ursula (a ghoul who can pass for a regular young woman, also one of Vinnie’s exes), or Flapjack of the Carpathians (a professional, if freelancing minion with a hump and, when on the job, a proper lisp).

 

Vinnie himself is built up very well, very slowly. We see him do more and more magic, show more and more knowledge, but in the end, it usually isn’t that supernatural power which saves the day - it’s his intelligence. He frees himself and three others from hell by using four of his packaged exorcism on them - they are meant to put a being back home, which for humans is earth, not hell. He stops a megalomaniac with a group of overpowered ghosts by telling the ghosts that the megalomaniac will devour them in a bit, which turns them against their erstwhile master. He defeats the minotaur not by slaying it, but by having its intended victim forgive it and set it free that way - saving both of them, in essence.

As a mage, Vinnie clearly plays in the league of a Gandalf or a Dumbledore - extremely powerful, yet also aware that it’s not the fireball that will win the day, but the intelligent use of all resources. That is what makes him so interesting. In the final story, we see him banish two angels (whom he describes as the magical equivalent to a five megaton atomic bomb each in power) with the help of toilet paper and a toilet. Later on, he brings them back from the sewers he banished them to when he knows he’s not the most evil being around and they’ll go for someone else.

Again and again, he shows that he’s putting the needs of others above his own needs - working for no money, sacrificing his happiness to keep his girlfriend safe, risking his own life for people he hardly knows.

Vinnie clearly is not a regular De Soth, but he knows how to play his cards right, calling in favours when he needs them, or warning others off when it’s necessary. He employs agencies without them knowing he employs them (like getting an anti-terror unit to strike the lair where Penny is kept). Despite being a sweet guy most of the time, he also has a very dark side. In one story, he uses the principle of sympathy (that parts of the whole are still aligned with all other parts when separated) to explode a café and a flower shop. He has powerful allies, too, but he doesn’t need their support to survive - he’s equally powerful.

 

In the afterword I already mentioned, the author pointed out how the mages of old, in the legends and fairy tales, usually didn’t win their fights by slinging fireballs around, but by thinking ahead, outsmarting their enemies, and using their resources wisely. This is actually on the same level as the way Sir Mumphrey uses the powers of his watch - thoughtful and intelligent. This is also what I like very much about the stories.

It’s not hard for a good writer, and I.A. Watson is a good writer, to write decent action scenes. There are lots of them in the stories of his I’ve read and they’re all good. Vinnie slinging fireballs, however, isn’t as interesting as seeing him set a long chain in motion to defeat his enemies in the last story - calling in favours from people we’ve met in the book, telling people to do something seemingly unrelated, working against what his enemies will expect he’ll do. Understanding the story’s MacGuffin (the Enigma Box) much better than them and giving it what it wants: a very good story. Hero going dark for his love is a good story. Hero tricking the powers of darkness to save his love, though, is an even better one, so he gives the Enigma Box this one instead.

That’s actually what kept me reading: clever stories with twists I didn’t see coming from a mile off. Stories with fully realized characters who acted like people. Stories which were fun to read, not too long, yet long enough to carry their plots well.

 

Is “Vinnie De Soth, Jobbing Occultist” the best book ever written? Probably not. Is it worth your time? If you like horror stories with high stakes, yet also with humour, definitely. Especially now, while many people have their holidays coming up, it’s a good book to pack (digitally or otherwise). No matter where you’re on vacation, I can guarantee that you will enjoy sitting down with this one and reading it.

Wednesday, 15 July 2020

Release Plans

It is time, I think, for another update on my release plans. So far, the remainder of this year is covered and plans for next year are made. All stories mentioned here are either already written or fully plotted, so that the writing is only a matter of time.

 

  • August 2020: Theoretical Necromancy Volume 1 - a collection of the following stories: Stray, The Tower, and The Death Mark
  • November 2020:  The Eye Volume 1 - a collection of the following stories: The Mind-Control Beam, The Hunter, and The Missing Professor
  • February 2021: The Lives and Times of Isadora Goode Volume 1 - a collection of the following stories: Birth of a Necromancer, Dracula’s Tomb, and Damsel Disaster

 

- so far, the stories are written, awaiting editing -

 

  • May 2021: Grey Eminence - the third Black Knight Agency Novel
  • August 2021: Ignition Rites - the eighth Knight Agency Novel
  • November 2021: Flatmates and Spies Volume 1 - a collection of the following stories (as planned): The Cannon Plans, The Chess Master, and The Scarlet Madam

 

- so far, the stories are plotted down to the scenes, but not written -

 

Other plotted stories include the first one for Colin Rook, the first for the second volume of Theoretical Necromancy, and the first for the third volume of John Stanton - Agent of the Crown. There are more projects which are in an early planning stage and which I will have a lot of time to work on while also working on the fully plotted stories. Among those in early stages are a second Magpies novel and a pulp novel with an alternate reality in which the Nazis tried again and won.

 

These are my future release plans. Updates will be made as they are necessary.

Saturday, 11 July 2020

Neutral Character Generation

It’s always easier to write a character of the same gender as yourself - at least that is the theory. It’s actually also easier for women to write men than it is for men to write women - simply because there’s a lot of media from a male point of view which women can consume whereas a lot of media from a female point of view is something men don’t dare or wish to consume.

 

One big thing about being a writer is to be able to imagine things. That’s the first step to writing something - having it in your head. The huge second step is to put it from your head on paper (or file), which comes with a lot of problems on its own.

Creating a character is a long process which usually, at least for me, starts with a vague idea - a trait, a skill, a background - and ends with a character which, hopefully, is three-dimensional and can stand on its own. During the generation process, the character gets sculpted, parts are taken away, parts are added, until it feels complete and like a person.

One big danger during this process is that you end up with a stereotype. That’s more likely when you create a character very much unlike yourself. So if, as a man, you create a woman and vice versa. It’s easy to pick some character you’ve seen or read about somewhere and just model your character on that one, making them a two-dimensional paper cut-out and not a three-dimensional character. This is less likely to happen with a character of your own gender, because you know how your gender acts, at least in general terms.

Some people suggest to beat this problem by writing the character in your own gender and then just flip them. That usually works, unless you have a very personal plot which demands a deep understanding of some aspect of the opposite gender - in this case, only research can help.

 

I suggest going one step further: do not write your character as any gender. Write them as a character, as a collection of traits, skills, and background. Give them what they need to further the plot and to survive until the end - if they are supposed to survive that long. Give them traits which fit, no matter what gender they’re usually related to. If you need a character who is a fighter, but also caring, that’s fine, no matter whether they end up male or female in the story. Ignore gender for as long as possible. In a lot of cases, you might not have to decide on it until the last step - naming the character and putting them into your story.

The neutral approach might help you make a rounded character, because it removes the seduction to work of stereotyped templates, no matter whether for male or for female characters. You’re not making a warrior, a damsel, or a mentor, you’re making a character who will be in the middle of the action (thus you give them a fighting skill, good reflexes, a past which taught them the necessary survival skills), a character who gets kidnapped (perhaps they know several languages and can listen in to the talks around them or they know how to crack locks and sneak around), and a character who has a lot of experience and knows how to share it (a former teacher, someone who travelled a lot, or someone who was what the character who needs guidance wants or needs to be).

There’s a lot of different characters you can make, especially this way. As with real life, where people are no stereotypes, but personalities who have been shaped by their lives so far, you will find them more interesting and, perhaps, more fitting for your stories as well.

Even if you start out with a stereotype, though, you can make it better by removing the gender and thinking about what you really need or want of your character. Does your warrior need to be stoic and silent or can they also be the life of the party? Does your damsel have to be a woman? Why is it that mentors are always old, not middle-aged or just a few years older than the person they’re supposed to mentor? Once you go neutral in character generation, you can pull stereotypes apart without too much worry and experiment on them.

 

While we’re at it, does a character have to be a gender, the way most people define it? Gender is a spectrum, it’s fluid, from the manly man to the very feminine woman there’s a lot happening there. With my two necromancers, Gabrielle Munson and Isadora Goode, I toed the line, but for different reasons.

Gabrielle lives in a late-Victorian-Steampunk setting where women don’t have as many rights and possibilities as men. Being tall for a woman and lean, so with small breasts and narrow hips, she can easily pose as a man, which gives her more freedom. In addition, Gabrielle likes women a lot more ‘that way’ than men, which means she could even court a lover without raising any brows.

In Isadora’s case, there’s more intention to it. Isadora comes from a long line of heroes, most of whom married ‘their’ damsel at some point - as it was with her parents, too. Isadora refused to follow her mother’s example and be a pretty, feminine damsel who gets kidnapped and rescued whenever it is suitable for her hero and his nemesis. Given the chance to keep her body androgynous through a potion her father’s nemesis (who became her mentor) taught her, she grabbed it with both hands, staying physically in-between man and woman. Without a cycle and in male clothing, she can very well appear as a man. Also against her family’s strict ‘black and white’ thinking is Isadora’s own sexuality: she’s pansexual, not bound to any gender when it comes to love and lust.

I feel that both of these characters have won a lot by not having been created as ‘average’ women, but by dipping into neutral character generation and giving them the skill sets, backgrounds, and traits I felt went best with them.

On the other hand, John Stanton, another of my characters, pretends very well not to be your average noble (which he also isn’t, but in a different way). He doesn’t use weapons around his family, he doesn’t ride out with them, he acts like the silent, bookish boy he was before his trip to Italy - and the events which turned him into a seasoned hunter of other humans who did whatever was necessary to get around. John is too comfortable in his own masculinity to need society’s approval for who he is - also a thing which I could work out by not trying to make a male character, but a character who happened to be male.

With Jane (in both her identities), admittedly, I went a different way: here I tried to turn the average, suave spy around, make them a woman instead of a man. For about half an hour, Jane Browne was Jane Bond, then I decided differently. Since I’m a woman myself, though, it wasn’t hard to transform the character from male to female, since female is my natural perspective.

 

Here’s a suggestion: try it out. Try making a character without thinking of a gender and see what it gives you. You might be positively surprised. If it doesn’t work for you, then it doesn’t, but at least you tried it. Well-rounded, three-dimensional characters are important for a story, so whatever helps you create them is good.