In his book The Seven Beauties of Science Fiction, Istvan Csicery-Ronay Jr. explains some of the most common themes of science fiction. He did this in order to examine how these themes could apply and impact our lives as we navigate a world that relies increasingly on technology and information. However, they also make great guidelines for examining science fiction and for writing your own stories that take place somewhere far off in time and space.
We went over these seven beauties early in the semester in my SF/Fantasy literature course, but today we went over them again. It was an optional class today that focused more on fantasy than science-fiction, and we came up with our own seven beauties of fantasy because the two genres overlap and are entwined in so many way. After class, I came up with my own list the horror, but could only come up with five beauties. Oh well.
Anyway, I thought I’d do a trilogy of posts that focused on the different beauties for each genre, because they are related genres and because they overlap in so many ways, so it’s interesting to examine some of the mores and common themes of these three genres. First, I’d like to start with the seven beauties of science fiction, because that’s what I learned first and it’s from these that my class created the seven beauties of fantasy, and I created the five beauties of horror.
With each beauty, I give a definition and an example, some from books and movies I’ve read/watched, some from my own work, and some that I’ve just heard about. If you have any examples, please let me know. I may just add them into the list.
1. Neologisms–new words or phrases that are exclusive to the world of the story. Every term that refers to something that only exists in that world, that’s a neologism. Consider the term twanking from the short story Mr. Boy, or warp in Star Trek. Those terms are a part of the story, and outside the story don’t have any relevance (unless, for the latter term, you’re a theoretical physicist trying to figure out how to warp something from one end of the room to the other).
2. Novums–technology or inventions that exist only in the story of the world. Take the ansible from Ender’s Game, or the lightsaber, or the TARDIS. These are technologies years ahead of us, only existing in stories and as imitations we see sometimes at comic book conventions. One can consider the flying saucer a novum, because as far as we know, real flying saucers don’t exist.
3. Historical extrapolation–referring to events that happened in the past in order to explain the world as it is now. You know how in Episode IV of Star Wars Obi-Wan explains how the Empire rose and the Jedi Order was destroyed thanks to Darth Vader? That’s historical extrapolation. It’s referring to events not always seen in the actual story to explain how the world we are in came to be. Other examples include how the first invasion of the Buggers in Ender’s Game creates Ender’s world and the aliens coming to Japan during the Meiji era in GinTama.
4. Oxymoron–implausibility or absurdities that only work in the story. An example of this would be crossing a human with a housefly to get a man-fly or radiation causing the dead to rise, like in the original Night of the Living Dead. Another way to look at this would be the idea that the human species develops in other regions of the universe at the same time, and when all the species come together, they find out they are all similar. It’s not likely, is it? Yet we see it in science-fiction and we don’t question it.
5. Scientific Impertinence–when laws that are deemed “unbreakable” by science are broken. Travelling at light-speed without expanding your mass to incredible sizes or traveling through time and space all in the course of a second without any aftershocks or side-effects might count as this. Scientifically, they can’t happen, but they do in these stories.
6. Sublime chronotopes– the space/time of the story. A science-fiction story is our world with added elements of scientific nature. Therefore, Star Trek and everything in its franchise are technically taking place in this world, but in the future and on other planets or in the void of space. Therefore, defining the sublime chronotopes of a story is defining its time and space relative to yours.
7. Parable–what’s the story about? Most sci-fi stories, we will find, is a parable that explores a certain issue. District 9 is about apartheid and racism. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? explores what it means to be human. 2001: A Space Odyssey is about mankind’s dependence on technology. And A.I. Artificial Intelligence explores what could happen if robots and humans learned to bond with each other.
Whether you agree or disagree with these 7 Beauties of Science Fiction, they are useful in exploring the genre. And sometimes you can even use them as a tool in the endless debates that seem to come from popular franchises and stories.
I didn’t think it would happen so soon, but it did. Within a week of Reborn City coming out, the first review has appeared on Amazon. This comes Matthew Williams, Canadian science-fiction author and dear friend (I did a review for his zombie thriller Whiskey Delta). Matt also is the author of the blog Stories by Williams and is an authority on all subjects related to science and science fiction. And I’m proud to say, he’s also the guy I asked to edit RC before I got it ready to publish.
And it’s because of all of those that I was really excited to see his review on Amazon today, in which he gave RC four stars. Here’s what he had to say:
“Gangland violence, superhero-like enhancements, a futuristic setting, and social commentary that stems from a semi-post-apocalyptic theme. And then there’s a story where people come together as a family to deal with mutual loss and tragedy. What’s not to like?”
I’m glad you thought so highly of it, Matt! What do you say to taking to a look at Video Rage when I’m ready to show it to someone else?
Well, I’m glad Matt likes it. I’ve had a couple of sales so far, and from what I’m hearing, people are liking RC so far. I had a friend message me over Facebook the other day to let me know that she thought the first couple pages of RC were scary due to the violence. I was like, “I wasn’t intending to scare anyone with the violence, but I’m glad you’re reading it and I hope you enjoy the rest of the novel.” Or something to that effect.
If you wish to read Reborn City, you can find it on Amazon, CreateSpace, and Smashwords. And if you do decide to read it, please let me know what you think. I love feedback, whether positive or negative.
Also, you should check out my friend Matt’s blog. Whether it’s drones threatening to become intelligent, the latest in medical science, changes in climate, or the latest superhero movie news, he’s your guy. And if you like what you see, check out his published work, including Whiskey Delta. It’s worth the read.
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post about the scariest scene I’d ever written in my career. It was a pretty intense sexual assault scene, so bad that I had to go out shopping in the middle of a downpour just to find my center and write about it in a blog post (it was that bad). Two of the concerns I had with the scene was if it would deliver the emotional effect I was looking for, and was it well written?
Well, I can’t really testify as to the former question. Only readers of the story could tell me, and that novel is still in its first draft. But for the latter, I might have an answer.
The book I’m reading for class right now.
I’ve mentioned before that I’m taking a literature class that covers science-fiction literature (and a couple movies). One of the books we’re reading is called The Windup Girl by Paolo Baciagalupi, and early on it has a pretty terrifying rape scene. I found myself reading it on my couch, putting a hand over my mouth as it ended. I was thinking about it the whole rest of the day and well into the evening, trying to wrap my head around it.
And then I realized something. I felt these same emotions writing my own rape scene. Not at the same intensity, but close to it. And it was written in a similar way to my own scene as well. In fact, I thought to myself, “There are many similarities between the scene in Baciagalupi’s novel and my own draft for Laura Horn.” Now I’m not saying I’m on par with a novelist who’s won the Hugo and Nebula Awards (and besides, his scene had some sci-fi twists, making it very different from mine), but the similarities really sprung out at me, especially the emotional similarities. It made me realize that wondering whether it’s well-written–whether I included the right words, whether I was describing anything right–was the wrong thing to worry about.
Instead, I should be worrying about delivering the emotional impact that you’d expect from a rape scene. The terror, the humiliation, the pain, the anger, the crushing despair. I should be more focused on those aspects of the writing when I write those sort of scenes. If I do that, the well-written part will somehow weave itself into the scene.
So now that I’ve figured that out, I think I’ll approach those scenes very differently in the future, should I decide to do one again. In the meantime though, I think I’ll go to bed, as it’s getting quite late. Goodnight, my dear Followers of Fear (that’s what I’ve started calling people who read this blog regularly, along with those on my Facebook page and Twitter feed. Do you like the nickname?).
Oh, and for those of you who are wondering when I’m going to end this self-imposed hiatus on my writing (if anyone’s wondering that at all. I’m sure most of my readers have more important things to think about, but you never know), I promise you it’ll be as soon as my workload clears up a bit. That might not be till after final exams, when all I have is work at my job and whatever’s on TV or whatever I’m reading at the moment, but on the plus side, exams are in four or five weeks, so it’ll be soon. And then I plan on writing up a mean storm of fiction! It’ll make up for all I’ve missed during NaNoWriMo!
Four years ago, I sat down in front of my computer and began outlining a novel about a girl named Zahara Bakur and her experiences with the Hydras. Over two years, taking many breaks for homework and an after school job and reading and a five week trip to Israel in summer 2010, I finished the novel that I named Reborn City. Then, over the next two years, I refined, edited, and polished up the novel, and finally I had my good friend Matt Williams at Stories by Williams take a look at RC before going ahead with the publishing process.
Now, after nearly four years, Reborn City is available for everyone to read. Sure, the print version is a bit more expensive than promised because Amazon said the price had to be so-and-so dollars, which I think is a little dickish, but whatever, it’s still out.
I can’t believe after so long it’s finally out, but I’m very happy and I am so glad I can finally share this novel with the world. If you are interested in reading Reborn City, you can check it out on Amazon and Smashwords. And if you want to read a preview before you commit to buying or downloading a copy, you can read an excerpt here.
Once again, thank you so very much for all your support and I hope you have an enjoyable read. If you feel like it, after you finish reading it please write a review on Amazon or Smashwords. Good or bad, I really don’t care. I’m always happy for feedback. Oh, and if you can’t find the print version on the Amazon page, most likely that’s because it’s still being processed by Amazon. Come back later today and it should be there.
Have a nice weekend everybody! Here’s the book trailer for RC, if you haven’t seen it yet.
This morning when I posted on my Facebook page and Twitter feed about Reborn City coming out three days from now, I joked that I couldn’t tell if I was shivering from excitement or from the cold (this year autumn seems to have passed Ohio by and let winter take over early). Later today when I logged onto the Internet after back-to-back classes and quite a bit of homework, I noticed that my sister Adi had posted about RC on Facebook and Twitter as well. It made me very happy and I was glad that she was my sister. It also made me wonder if she’d been replaced by an alien of some sort, which is always a possibility.
But you know, I’ve received a lot of support these past couple of days. My mother told me last night when we went out to dinner she might buy more than one copy of RC, and I’ve had friends, family, and classmates telling me to let them know when it comes out just so they can buy it.
This makes me very hopeful. I’m looking forward to seeing how RC does when it comes out, and I can’t wait to hear what everyone thinks of it, seeing as it’s my first published novel. I guess with the first one you always feel the most trepidation and excitement, because it’s your first time putting a full-length work out on the stands. And when it goes out, you wonder to yourself, will this be my big break? Will people love it or hate it? Will I have an excellent movie made out of it starring the actor from one of my favorite shows?
Okay, that last one was a bit much for a self-published writer with only one other book to his name, but you get the idea,
Anyway, thanks for the all the support, everyone. I can’t do any of this without you constantly reading, liking, commenting, and cheering me on. I hope that when RC comes out you like it and that you’re not afraid to tell me what you think of it, whether it be positive or negative thoughts.
I didn’t get to do this with The Quiet Game (I forget why), so I’m doing it with Reborn City. Guess what:
Yes, seven days! Reborn City will be coming out November 1st in both print paperback and e-book formats. It’s been a long process, but it’s finally almost time! And I could not be more excited. Well I could be but I’m pretty sure it would involve illegal drugs, so I’ll stay at my normal levels of excitement.
You know, it’s been over four years since I first sat down and started writing Reborn City. I had an idea for a novel–possibly one with a sequel or two–on the way home from the library while listening to a CD with a lot of rap and rock music. I stopped by a Dairy Queen for a treat and started thinking about how to develop this idea, which had street gangs at the center of it and a sci-fi twist. Then at my sister’s birthday, after the cake and presents had been put away, I started writing some notes down in a journal. Then I started researching, and typing a manuscript, and then after many breaks and a lot of painstaking work over the course of two years, I finished the manuscript. Another year and a third of editing, eight months spent emailing chapters to my dear friend Matt Williams and making more adjustment based on his suggestions and the final copy was done. Finally I created a cover on CreateSpace (which you can see above) and I sent it all off to the copyright office.
A few months pass by, a book trailer comes out, and now we’re finally at the end of this long journey. I’m hoping for wonderful things to happen with this book. I’ve poured a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into RC, and I hope people really like reading it. It’s not as scary as some of my other work, so that may appeal to less fear-loving readers. And it’s sci-fi dystopian fiction, so considering today’s market that’s good to have.
But there’s more to it than that. The novel tackles some powerful themes, like racism and Islamaphobia, drugs and gang violence, and a number of other issues. And I’m hoping its those themes that will resonate with readers and help them fall in love with characters, rather than some dashing heroine and a couple of good-looking guys rebelling against a government that’s pure evil (how many franchises did I just describe there? I think I got Twilight in there too).
So without further ado, I’m going to give you guys a treat in honor of RC coming out. The first treat is the RC book trailer, which is right underneath the next paragraph. Immediately following the video is an excerpt from Chapter One of RC, for all your reading pleasure. I hope you like the video and the excerpt and that you’ll be interested in reading the actual book afterwards.
Also, if you haven’t already read them, please see my interviews with Zahara Bakur, Rip, and Jason Price, three very important characters from Reborn City. They’re very amazing people…though two of them did threaten to kill me for various reasons.
Reborn City, former Nevada
28 Anno Bombus (2056 CE)
June 28
Zahara and her family had decided to eat out at a restaurant in North Reborn that served kosher meat, the closest they could get to halāl. “I know it’s for Jews mostly, but it’s a very nice place and the Jews were very nice to us in New York.” Zahara’s father, Emir Bakur had said when he’d suggested it. “They know they don’t have to fear Muslims anymore. And the Chaplinsky family in 4F was nice enough, right?”
However Emir had taken a wrong turn on the still-unfamiliar streets and highways and they had somehow ended up in West Reborn. The sight of the place gave Zahara chills, and it just wasn’t the reports of gang violence: the area had a grittiness that Zahara didn’t like. The cold brown houses, the rusty lamp poles, the cracked, light-grey concrete. West Reborn looked unkempt, uncared for, like the city had kept up the other areas of the city but had forgotten about this one. The only buildings that looked in any good condition were casinos, bars, and strip clubs, displaying three-dimensional holograms of cash prizes and sexy women drinking beer while looking at passerby with bedroom eyes. The sight of them disgusted Zahara.
In the front of the car Emir and Aaliyah were arguing, trying to figure out how to get back to where they were going. Zahara closed her eyes and tried to let the music from her filepiece filter into her right ear. Surrendering to the small device, she wondered if she’d ever get out of this city and get back to New York where she belonged. Somehow, Zahara had a feeling she would never come to like Reborn City, no matter how much she lived here.
After a few more minutes of her parents arguing about which direction, Zahara opened her eyes again, prepared to tell them they should just check their phones for the directions. Her eyes widened as she saw an arm swing up from the sidewalk and throw a rock at the windshield. The glass cracked as the rock rebounded off the windshield and into the road. Aaliyah and Zahara screamed as Emir braked the car and jerked at the steering wheel. The car skidded to a screeching halt, the nose pointing towards the middle of the road.
Zahara saw her father unbuckle his seatbelt and before she could stop him, stepping out to inspect the damage. “What in the name of Allah—?” he said, but stopped as he heard the click of a jackknife being opened. He turned around and saw two men, one of whom was holding a long, deadly-looking blade. Leaning forward in her seat, Zahara could make out the details of the two men: both of the men had a ruddy tan complexion, were wearing green clothes, and had looks on their faces that said they did not like making new friends. On the neck of one Zahara could make out what looked like a tattoo of a pitchfork with a sombrero hung over the right prong.
One of them, who was large and muscular, spoke to Zahara’s father. “Hand over yo’ fuckin’ money an’ yo fuckin’ car.” he said with a Spanish accent. “Ya got that?”
“Sure!” said Zahara’s father, holding his hands up defensively, looking so unlike the corporate lawyer he was. “Just take it easy, okay? Just take it easy—!”
“Hurry the fuck up!” said the other man. “Who ya think yo messin’ with, estupido?” This man was thin and gangly and had a strange leer on his face, like he would rather punch Emir than talk to him.
“Okay, okay!” said Emir, backing back up to the door and turning off the engine. Zahara’s mother Aaliyah saw this and as her husband stood back up out of the car, unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door.
“Mother!” said Zahara in English. Aaliyah looked behind her to where her daughter was sitting on the edge of her seat, fists balled in her lap, chewing her lower lip. “Don’t go out there!” Zahara hissed; Zahara rarely used English with her parents and she was only using it now because she didn’t know if these two men in green were fans of Muslims or not. Either way, it was not a good time to find out.
Zahara’s mother looked at her daughter as if she’d gone mad. “I don’t have a choice, Zahara.” she said in Arabic, pushing a loose lock of hair back under her hijab. “Our car is being stolen.” She opened her door and slid out of the seat. Zahara watched with disbelief as her mother closed the car door. Did her mother think things would go peacefully?
Suddenly the skinny gangster stared at Zahara’s mother and pointed at her hijab. “Hey Manny!” said the skinny gangster. “Check out the headscarf. Musulmàns!”
The fat gangster, Manny, stared at Zahara’s mother, then turned back to Emir, his expression livid. “So, you thought you’d get the jump on us, huh?” he said, thrusting the knife at Zahara’s father. “Fuckin’ terrorist! Let us jack ya car an’ explode us too?”
Zahara winced. Fuckin’ terrorist. She had been right, these two men hated Muslims.
“No, that’s not it at all!” said Emir, looking terrified as the skinny gangster pulled out a gun. “Please, you have to believe me—!”
“Shaddup!” yelled Manny, stabbing Emir in the belly. Emir went rigid as the knife plunged into his belly, then collapsed as Manny pulled the blade out. Blood poured out of Zahara’s father, pooling around him in a big red circle.
Aaliyah screamed in horror, staring at her husband as tears flooded down her cheeks. “Emir!” she cried. “Emir—!”
The skinny gangster pulled out his gun and shot Aaliyah in the forehead; her eyes rolled into the back of her head as Zahara’s mother fell lifeless to the ground. Zahara gasped, trying to keep her tears and screams inside herself. If the gangsters saw her they’d kill her too. And maybe…just because she was a teenager and a girl…they’d do other stuff to her, too. Zahara shuddered to think of what they’d do to her if they did that too.
Manny was kicking Emir’s lifeless body casually, making sure he was dead. “Think they’d play us, did they?” he said to his companion. “Fuckin’ terrorists.”
“Yeah, well they’re shittin’ in hell now.” said the skinny gangster. “Shows what happens when ya mess with Diablos.”
“Yeah.” said Manny, looking up from Emir’s body. “Come on, let’s go—wait a minute.” Manny’s piggy little eyes fixed on Zahara in the backseat of her parent’s car. Zahara squeaked as Manny took two steps towards her. “Yo, Che. Come check this out.” Manny called to his friend, followed by something in Spanish. Zahara nearly froze up as she realized she’d been discovered.
Quickly Zahara unbuckled her seatbelt, threw open the car door and ran, throwing her filepiece as a distraction. Manny and Che jumped back as the filepiece hit the ground, probably thinking it was a grenade or something. By the time they realized their mistake, Zahara already had a head start on them. They set off after her, angrily yelling in Spanish at her. Zahara turned around, saw them catching up, and ran faster, determined to get away.
As Zahara ran, bumping into people and flying past holograms, she began to cry; her parents were dead, she was miles away from any familiar place and with no familiar people to help her. The heartache she was feeling was so intense that she could just keel over and die, but she wouldn’t die here, and she would not let herself be caught by the gangsters chasing after her. She’d get out of West Reborn, find the house (she still hadn’t thought of it as “home” yet), and then she’d call New York and get help. Or maybe kill herself. Either way, she had to get out.
The gangsters were only a few feet behind her. But a few blocks ahead there was a police station. Maybe, if she was able to get there, she’d be safe. She could tell the police what was going on, they’d arrest her parents’ murderers, and then she could go back to New York—
Suddenly Zahara tripped on a shifted slab of concrete and fell. Thrusting her hands out in front of her, Zahara cried out as she scraped her hands and knees. She tried to stand up again but then someone grabbed her shirt from behind and yanked her up. Zahara stared into the faces of Manny and Che, the Hispanic gangsters who had murdered her parents. Che grabbed Zahara’s arms and twisted them into a painful armlock.
“Hello, Little Miss Terrorist.” said Manny. “Thought ya could get away so easily. Thought the po-po would help ya out. Wrong!”
Both of them laughed cruelly, and Manny brought out his knife, holding it close to Zahara’s jugular. The blade gleamed with the blood of Zahara’s father still fresh on it. Che and Manny laughed harder at the expression on Zahara’s face. “The po-po are just pussies.” said Che. “Fuckin’ pussies. They couldn’t catch us an’ throw us in the clink, an’ they would never help a fuckin’ Musalmàn. Besides, even if they would, them assholes can’t see us. It’s dark out, ya know.”
Manny pressed his face close to Zahara’s, grinning wickedly. The foul smell of his breath wafted over Zahara’s face, making her want to puke. “And the nearest streetlamp is right ovuh there.” he added, cocking his head in the direction of the lonely streetlamp.
With a great effort Zahara twisted her head away from the knife. “Somebody help me!” she screamed.
“No one’s gonna fuckin’ come to your rescue, Little Miss Terrorist.” said Manny, pressing the blade to Zahara’s neck; a little bit of Zahara’s blood trickled onto the knife, mixing with Emir’s. Zahara whimpered as Manny pressed his face even closer than before, so close she could see the pupils in his beady eyes. Behind her Zahara could feel Che’s hot breath on the nape of her neck.
Suddenly Manny’s free hand swooped down and grabbed the button on Zahara’s pants, undoing it in an instant. His hand reached into her pants and began feeling around.
“No, please.” said Zahara, tears spilling from the corner of her eyes. “Please don’t do this—!”
“Shaddup!” said Manny, looking up from what he was doing; Zahara felt the blade of the knife dig a little deeper into her neck. “Ya shaddup an’ try ta enjoy it. Maybe aftowards we’ll let ya kill yoself, got it? But no bombs; ya might hurt someone.”
Che giggled as Manny worked Zahara’s pants off, exposing her white underwear. As he did Zahara felt the fight go out of her. She was going to die and painfully too and at the hands of her parents’ murderers. She’d never see her friends again, she’d never see her parents again, and like the two men had said, no one was going to help her—
“What ya mothas doin’?” said a voice. Zahara looked away from Manny as a figure dressed in a black hoodie and jeans stepped into the lamplight. Manny paused and then stood up, pulling the knife away from Zahara’s neck.
As he did Zahara felt her energy disappear. Black edged into her field of vision as Zahara strained to discern the face of the newcomer. But the darkness took her and Zahara couldn’t see his face. The last thing Zahara thought before she fainted was that she would’ve liked to see the face of her potential rescuer.
That, and how embarrassed she was that her pants were lying uselessly around her ankles.
I was very curious about the film when I saw the trailer when I went to see Elysium. So when I finally got the chance to see it, I hoped it was as good as they were trying to make the film seem, which was a documentary/found-footage film that marries Paranormal Activity to modern astrobiology theories and science fiction.
Unfortunately, the filmmakers fail to do this. The film, which is about a manned mission to Europa, one of Jupiter’s moons and the one that scientists believe cold possibly harbor life underneath its icy surface, chronicles from a number of placed cameras the trials and travails of the crew, especially when they finally get to Europa and find they’re not alone (obviously). The events aren’t always in chronological order, and there are a lot of interviews with representatives and scientists working for the company that funded the mission.
Is it a novel idea? Yes, to a certain degree. Is it a good thriller? Not really. The film takes too long to actually get to Europa, reveals who’s going to die too early to make the story very thrilling, and when we finally get to Europa’s surface, there’s more fascination with the scientific experiments than there is of the monster menacing the crew. By the time the focus of the film is to get away from the monster, who has not been revealed except for some deep-pink bio-luminescence underneath the ice, we are more annoyed with curiosity for what the creature is than what is happening to the crew, whose fate we basically have figured out and are bored with.
And when they finally reveal the monster…well, not so scary. In fact, it’s kind of stereotypical for alien movies where the alien is more monstrous than humanoid. It’d be scarier if it were modeled after Godzilla. Even the deep pink bio-luminescence couldn’t make that less terrifying.
All in all, Europa Report is so high on the science and documentary-style footage that its filmmakers forgot to make the film actually entertaining for the people going to see it. I give it a 2.6 out of 5. Don’t even bother to wait for it to come out on DVD. Trust me, it’s a waste of time.
Today we had a rather interesting discussion in my Science Fiction and Fantasy class (for those of you new to the blog, yes there’s such a thing. Apparently Ohio State’s English Department has been studying the foundations of nerd culture since 2007. And possibly there’s a grad student in the Sociology Department who’s studying the actual people of nerd culture, but that’s an investigation for another time). Anyway, we were talking about the differences between heroes in science fiction stories from pre-WWII and the stories written after WWII.
In the pre-WWII stories, the heroes were always larger than life, able to overcome evil and fight off any villain with ease. In a sense, they were Supermen without superpowers, and they still won every battle, got the girl, saved the world, and were home in time for tea. Some great examples were John Carter of Mars from the Barsoom novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs and Freder from the movie Metropolis.
But then you have World War II. There you see death camps, POW marches, bombings, jungle warfare, beaches that run red with blood, mortars and claymores and bullets, racism and nationalism, beheadings, and several other bits of Hell made incarnate. Those who came back from the war were given a darker outlook on the world, and those whose talents were more geared to the written word and who in turn enjoyed a little space travel incorporated that new world view into their work. The best examples I can give you of the sort of hero that became popular after WWII are Barton from the short story The Cold Equations and Han Solo from Star Wars. They are not Supermen. They are simply men. They have problems, conflicts, flaws. Barton is haunted by what his job requires him to do when he finds a stowaway on his ship. Solo is looking out for himself and his ship and nobody else, though the Expanded Universe of Star Wars says that he’s like that because his lover died leaving him cynical and jaded. And then he met Jabba the Hutt.
The point is people liked these characters. A lot. They’ve been around since then in some way or another. Look around at science fiction and fantasy stories today. Harry Potter admits he’d be lost without his friends, and as Hermione is fond of pointing out, he’s useless with girls. Katniss Everdeen is troubled by her feelings for both Peeta and Gale and her memories of the Hunger Games, and is only in the situations she’s in so that she can protect her sister and stay alive, in that order…though she does love a little revenge every now and then. Max de Costa from Elysium is trying to be a better man, but with his life on the line he becomes the definition of a survivalist, willing to do anything to live. And Buffy Summers from Buffy the Vampire Slayer has a host of issues that inhibit her life, especially in season six of the series. Jeez, that season was psychologically dark!
And it’s not just science fiction. Other genres of speculative fiction have these sorts of character. My own fiction has these sort of flawed characters:
Zahara Bakur (Reborn City): low self-esteem and a sometimes overwhelming timidity and fear of violence.
Rip (Reborn City): recovering drug addict with image issues.
Snake (Snake): highly disturbed serial killer due to abusive childhood.
Laura Horn (Laura Horn): pathological shyness, social anxiety and general anxiety due to sexual assault.
Why are these characters so popular when they are so far from perfect? I think it has something to do with the fact that’s what they are: imperfect, They care deeply and try hard, but occasionally they fail and they fall and the consequences are terrible. To the readers, that makes them real. We don’t want to read about infallible heroes, because we know all too well that they don’t exist. We want heroes who are a little more like us. They depend on people, they hurt, they need a good smack occasionally to see that what they’re doing is hurting both themselves and their loved ones. We’ve all been in positions like that to some degree in our lives. And that makes these characters relatable to us, and our problems, even if they don’t involve magic or spaceships or fighting in an arena with other young kids.
Not only that, but these protagonists tend to grow in the story. They tend to become better than what they were before. And I don’t mean better warriors or fighters or healers or wizards or whatnot. I mean better people. They learn what’s really important in life, or how to express their love for others, or they come back as true leaders who put the lives and interests of those who depend on them first. In other words, the sort of people we want to be.
I personally prefer using these characters with their flaws and warts and troubles. I used to be more into characters that were impervious, Granted, I was a kid at the time, and all my favorite TV, movie, and book heroes seemed impervious to me. But I’m older now, smarter, wiser, and a bit more aware that the world doesn’t usually produce such heroes. So I like to use the heroes with problems, with something that’s keeping them back. Along with the conflict of the story, it gives me something to grapple with and for the characters to grapple with as they fight onwards. After all, a story is not just getting from Point A to Point B, it’s also about letting the characters grow and become better people.
“I’m not even perfect, and I’m bloody brilliant in all my forms.”
Now are these sorts of characters here to stay? I’m tempted to say yes, at least for the meantime. If you look at the latest movies, TV shows, novels, and comic books, the main characters all have problems of some sort that makes life difficult for them. Watching them grow, take on these problems, and overcome them is part of the appeal of the story. And I certainly plan to use these flawed characters in the future, as do other writers I know. So yes, it’s quite possible these flawed protagonists will be staying for quite a while.
How do you feel about flawed characters? And are there any that you particularly like above all others?
Yes, you read that title right. I’ve been using drones recently. I started using them sometime this past weekend, and I’ve been using them almost every night since. Mostly I fly them around certain sections of the state of Colorado, usually near Interstate 70. I’ve fired a few missile and several bullets. The drones were fun to pilot, but they had a bad habit of getting destroyed, and it’s not really my fault. Still, I might get blamed for it, so I won’t be piloting drones for a while.
This is actually the model of drone–or a variation of it–that I used.
Now you are probably wondering variations of “What the f**k is he talking about?” and “How the hell did he get his hands on drones?” Well the answer is simple: I wrote them into the second chapter of Video Rage as part of a fun little battle sequence. I thought it’d be interesting to use drones in this chapter, especially since drones are still relatively new to us now and many people, myself included, are at the very least a little wary of drones and their use by the military, if not downright scared of them. It ended up working out very well, because the drones showed how powerless my protagonists can be even with their powers, and how hard they have to work to stay alive.
Got you, didn’t I?
The drones also allowed me to do something I planned for this novel: cause friction. Something happens to one of the characters during the drone attack, and it causes some tension in the tight-knit group of people who star in this novel of mine. Later on there will be more tension between the Hydras, and we’ll see what happens when that tension hits a boiling point. Believe me, things will get ugly as a result.
I’ll be using drones again later in VR. The drones in Chapter 2 are very similar to drones used today by the US military, but in later chapters I plan on using new drones that the military probably hasn’t dreamt of yet (or if they have, my friend Matthew Williams will know of them). It’ll be interesting to see how the use of drones will work out, both for the story and for the characters.
At the very least, it’ll make for some interesting reading.
Now I’m going to take a break, shower, and then sit down for a movie. Tomorrow I’ll try to start the next chapter of Laura Horn. Things will heat up over in that storyline as well.
Rami Ungar The Writer 