Beware of Ambiguous Antecedents in Your Writing

While they appear to be a term a lot of folks are railing against these days, any writer can tell you that pronouns are one of the best pieces of language ever invented. After all, even if it would be an accurate recounting of a scene, nothing that feels more stilted or unnatural than saying a character's name over and over again. However, pronouns come with their own set of risks, one of which always seems to catch writers off-guard...

The ambiguous antecedent.

He squeezed blood from the stone! Wait... which he again?

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Nouns, Pronouns, and Antecedents

As Writers points out, there are some basic grammatical rules we're all aware of, even if we may not know the official terms for them. Generally speaking, when you're writing a story, you will have a noun, and then once that noun has been stated, you'll use a pronoun for it later. The original noun is the antecedent, meaning that the pronoun is connected to it.

Jeff stared at the read out on the monitor, sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The "his" in this case clearly refers to Jeff, making Jeff the antecedent. Pretty basic stuff, right?

The problem you'll run into when you're a writer is that you'll often have multiple characters with the same pronouns in a given scene. This means that, rather than having direct lines between the pronoun and its antecedent, you might have readers scratching their heads wondering which he, she, or they you're referring to, and that can quickly cause them to lose track of the narrative. Whether it's a rapid back-and-forth between a cop and a criminal in an interrogation room, or an action scene with a squad of black ops soldiers, too much confusion between the noun and the pronoun referring to it can end up with chaos on the page.

The Cimmerian slew them all.

A tip I would recommend is something that a lot of us do without even thinking about it, but I usually refer to it as the Conan solution to this issue of ambiguity. In short, whenever you run into a situation where there might be confusion as to who a pronoun is referring to, replace it with some defining description of the character in question so that the audience can follow a clear through line of what is happening in a scene. Whether it's referring to a specific aspect of a character like a notable physical feature, or even referring to them by their job, the idea is that whenever there could be confusion, you clear that up as quickly and efficiently as you can.

"Hey, come look at this," Jeff said to Crawford. The federal agent grunted, and walked over to the terminal. The computer tech pointed at the image on the screen, and grinned.

Here we have two characters interacting as part of the narrative. Rather than simply relying on readers to figure out a pronoun, though, we ensure that we use something descriptive to refer to each of the two men separately, making sure that the reader has a clear image of who is doing what in the situation.

It's a fairly simple thing, but it's an area I've seen my share of writers develop a confusion with. So I thought I'd do my part this week to offer a bit of my own technique, and hope that it helps!

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That's all for this week's Craft of Writing! For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, or at My Amazon Author Page where you can find books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, or my most recent short story collection The Rejects!

 

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What Makes A Barbarian Hero?

A few weeks back I talked about what makes an anti-hero in Getting Back to Basics When it Comes to Anti-Heroes. So I thought I'd continue examining the archetypes and styles of our stories this week, and delve into one of my personal favorites... the Barbarian Hero!

Things are about the get ripped in here.

Classic Heroes (Through The Lens of The Barbarian)

As I said when we were talking about anti-heroes, the first thing you need to do is to establish the traits and qualities of your Classic Hero. Not to beat a dead horse, but some of the traits you run into included:

- Prowess: Classical heroes were good at things (typically fighting, but other stuff, too).

- Surety: Classical heroes knew what to do, and usually wasted no time doing it.

- Looks: Classical heroes were usually handsome, and were prone to being admired.

- Cause: Heroes of antiquity fought for themselves, while heroes in the middle ages tended to fight for king, god, and other rulers. The difference between Hector and Lancelot, in this one.

- Flawless: Classical heroes had either no flaws, or their single, Tragic Flaw. Sometimes physical, sometimes more metaphorical.

- Special Bloodline: Whether it was from gods or kings, heroes were born special more often than not.

While there was some variation from story to story and culture to culture, this was the typical mold for where heroic characters fit. And from Achilles to Aragorn, this mold is very much a part of our modern storytelling toolbox.

So where do the barbarians come in?

The Barbarian Hero has always been a part of our stories, our legends, and our tales; he didn't just show up a century or so ago under the pen of Robert E. Howard. From ancient myths that described characters like Enkidu the beast man, to Cu Chulainn and his legendary riastrad, and into the modern day with characters like Kull the Conqueror, Tarzan, and the Forgotten Realms' own Wulfgar, the barbarian hero has always been with us.

But what makes the Barbarian Hero different from classical heroes?

The first thing a Barbarian Hero requires is an uncivilized aspect. Whether it's someone from civilization being raised in the wilds like the Earl of Greystoke, or a character who was born and bred in the wilds of the world like Conan, that lack of a civilization is essential to these characters. It should be noted, also, that some characters are merely treated as throwbacks; uncivilized people born into civilized times. Often it's this inherent lack of civilization that acts as the source of the character's power in some way, shape, or form (the savage furies of the north, the rippling thews of the southern jungles, etc.).

Beyond that uncivilized aspect, though, the Barbarian Hero is a creature of both raw physicality, and unstoppable willpower. Many of them are great in stature, as it represents they are different than most men, and even those who are of an average size have a strength far greater than those around them (you see this in The Jungle Book 2, when Mowgli is far stronger than average men because he was raised by wild beasts). Barbarian Heroes also tend to be stronger-willed than average characters, and despite being seen as uncivilized brutes by many, they usually possess a wide variety of skills and experiences, as well as a firm grasp of logic and reason.

One of the final aspects of the Barbarian Hero is that they are often (but not always) positioned opposite their nemesis of the Sorcerer. For while a Barbarian Hero is a rampantly physical character, their greatest opponents are those who use trickery and magic to confound or challenge that strength. In many of these matches it is the Barbarian Hero's sheer force of will, as well as their cat-like reflexes, that allow them to win the day.

This mixing of the heroic with the savage, and keeping many aspects we recognize while mixing them with ones we do not, tends to create interesting characters. And while it is a mold that has waxed and waned over the years, it is not one that has ever really gone away.

Truth is Stranger Than Fiction?

One of the odder things about the barbarian hero, as an idea, is that there's some truth to it. According to TV Tropes, older societies often dealt with a slew of problems that could be directly attributed to the problems of civilization. From disease running rampant, to difficulties with inbreeding, to the issue of feeding a large number of people in one location, you often saw weakness that wasn't present in more nomadic, less-developed societies.

That was probably part of where this archetype came from in the first place... because sometimes our actual history influences the stories we tell in some truly bizarre ways.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing! For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, or at My Amazon Author Page where you can find books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife!

If you'd like to help support my work, then consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page! Lastly, to keep up with my latest, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now on Pinterest as well!

The Uncomfortable Sexism in Robert Jordan's Work

When most people think of Robert Jordan, they think of his Wheel of Time series. While I read the first ten books of that series (I drew the line at a character whinging for a third of an entire novel about how his wife had been kidnapped by a relatively small number of desert warriors, rather than sending a messenger to the demigod that was his childhood friend and summoning every wolf on the continent to go get her back), my first exposure to Robert Jordan as an author was actually his contribution to the Conan mythos.

This was the book, in case you were wondering.

I found The Conan Chronicles at my local library when I was in 7th or 8th grade, and when I was done chewing through that volume I grabbed the sequel, The Further Chronicles of Conan. Each of these tomes had several novels in them, all of them penned by Robert Jordan. From slaying bandits and outwitting sorcerers, to toppling thrones and splitting skulls, these books hit all the high points I was looking for as someone who was already a fan of the character, and who had read several of the classic pulp stories by other authors. I even remember thinking at the time that Jordan's stories managed to deal much more even-handedly on the very problematic depictions of race that was endemic to the era when Conan first raged onto the pulp fiction scene.

However, the me who had such a fondness for those books was a teenager who wasn't old enough to drive yet. I recently found a copy of The Further Chronicles of Conan at a convention, and out of nostalgia bought it. The more I re-read those old tales, the more I realized something... as a writer, Jordan's depictions of female characters is really problematic.

And, since I have you here, I figured I'd do an autopsy on it so we can see what we can learn.

Welcome to the Party (Better Late Than Never)

I'm aware that I'm far from the first person to have this revelation about Jordan's works. In fact, one could argue that a basic reading of the gendered magic system in the Wheel of Time setting should have been the first gigantic red flag. However, I'm willing to go a step further on this.

I often found Jordan's depictions of female characters more sexist than Robert E. Howard's were.

Damn bold thing of you to say.

Now, to be clear, Howard is still extremely problematic when it comes to many of his female characters, especially those who exist in stories alongside his most famous barbarian. His stories are replete with heaving bosoms, great sighs, and women being slaughtered for no reason other than to drive Conan into a killing frenzy. The body of work's got bugs. However, Howard's female characters often have drives, goals, motivations, and at the very least gave their consent before being ravished by the titular Cimmerian.

I can't say the same for Jordan's stories.

Jordan makes a big deal in practically every one of the six novels in those two collections that Conan will never take a woman against her will. That's spelled out to the audience repeatedly in the text in his own dialogue or inner thoughts... but immediately following that sentence we have our hulking protagonist crushing some woman to his obscenely muscled chest, and kissing her as she tries to push him away, or strike at his head.

This phrase, I do not think it means what you think it means.

That's bad enough, however, Jordan's works also take the "traditional" fantasy outfits worn by many female characters (that is to say fetishized fantasy gear for the male gaze that sold magazines back in the day), and cranked it up to 11. Howard's stories often had the serving women in diaphanous garments, or made it a point to mention the temple's maids wore revealing robes, but Jordan's stories repeatedly draw the reader's gaze back to it. Not only that, but it goes into greater, and at times almost obscene details about how tight a certain noblewoman's breeches are, or about how a certain robe clings to a character's body. Points for absurdity goes to the character of Karela the Red Hawk for dressing in what amounts to a literal chainmail bikini, while supposedly being one of the deadliest and most feared bandit leaders in this part of Turan.

Speaking of The Red Hawk...

While absurd and overly sexualized, Karela as a character (since she recurs in more than half the novels in these collections) is also ground zero for another of Jordan's bizarre habits when it comes to female characters. In short, they get instantly (and occasionally violently) wishy-washy as soon as they're in the presence of a man.

You're already thinking of character names, aren't you?

The most obvious example in his own series was the character of Nynaeve, and how whenever she was in the presence of the dark-haired warrior Lan she was immediately torn between being a strong independent woman who don't need no man, and wanting to simper and pout at him to get his attention. We also see it with the character of Min, who is a street-running, knife-throwing punk rock tomboy, but as soon as she's in a dress near a boy she likes starts arguing with herself about whether or not she should be more feminine to catch his eye.

And so on, and so forth.

It's also one of the defining features of the character of Karela, the Red Hawk. For those who haven't come across these books, The Red Hawk is the most feared bandit leader in all of Turan. There's a huge purse of gold on her head, and her men are brutal, savage, and they follow her like a pack of dogs. Also, since this is a Conan story, she is of course a beautiful red-headed woman in literal boob plate (held in place by fine chains constantly strained to their limits by the fullness of her chest, Jordan points out several times). That's par for the course in the Hyborean setting. However, as soon as Karela is manhandled by Conan (grabbed and kissed against her will as she tries to stab him, which then somehow turns into passionate sex in a gorge) she instantly becomes two different characters. One is the hard-edged, in-control, Powerful Woman... and the other is a moony-eyed wench who just wants to let go of who she is, and submit herself entirely to this Powerful Man.

This is not a momentary crisis of character; this is Karela's constant state over multiple books. The same state of attempting to be sexless and aggressive (while often still being beautiful to observers), versus being completely submissive to the will of a strong man that so many of Jordan's female characters struggle with.

Now, let's contrast Karela with another character from one of Howard's later short stories; the pirate captain Belit.

Appearing in the short story Queen of The Black Coast back in 1934, Belit is described as a beautiful woman dressed in rather revealing garments, but who is nonetheless a feared Black Coast pirate. Her crew attacks a ship Conan is a passenger on, and he kills many of the pirates rather than surrender. Conan is about to die when Belit demands her crew stop. She struts right up to him, looks him up and down, and the two of them instantly recognize the savage and barbaric instincts in the other. More importantly, Belit demands, in words, that Conan come to her, take her as his queen and lover, and the two of them will make the Black Coast tremble at their feet.

While that's a little melodramatic, and more than a little camp, at no point in time does Belit put up resistance that Conan (or any other strong male character) needs to overcome through force. She says what she wants, and becoming Conan's lover doesn't change her essential nature in any meaningful way. She is still fierce, proud, dangerous, and one night she grabs Conan by the back of his neck, looks him right in his blue, northern eyes, and tells him in no uncertain terms that if she were dead and he still fighting that hell itself would not keep her from his side.

If that sounds familiar to the speech given in the film Conan the Barbarian, that's because it was essentially lifted from this short story.

Belit is far from the only lover Conan has throughout Howard's works, and they've come in all shapes, sizes, and nationalities. From blushing maids who asked him to be their first, to jaded mercenaries, to witch women with uncertain motives, these characters were all unique in their own way. More importantly, none of them suddenly had a crisis of self when they admit they are attracted to Conan, or when they go further and are intimate with him. There were plenty of other problems in the text (especially when they came from non-Caucasian ethnicities), but this specific pitfall was one the older stories managed to avoid.

Hot Take: Make Your Characters Individuals With Agency

I've been turning this over in my head for months trying to figure out what lesson I would suggest other writers take away from this. In comparing and contrasting the two sources, my advice to anyone is to make your characters individuals, who have their own wants, goals, and agency. Because while their relationships with other characters should be important, even intimate relationships shouldn't completely define who an individual character is. And if a night of rough sex had after questionable consent turns someone into an obsessive, violent stalker, that shouldn't be written of as, "Women, am I right?"

Also, since this might still need to be said, if you want your audience to know your protagonist respects people's consent, have them use their words. If you don't, it's sort of sending the exact opposite message you're trying for.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing! For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, or at My Amazon Author Page where you can find books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife!

If you'd like to help support my work, then consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page! Lastly, to keep up with my latest, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now on Pinterest as well!

Understanding The Flat Arc (Because Sometimes Your Characters Don't HAVE To Change)

I'd like to start this entry off with a bit of good news. I recently put out my first novel! Crier's Knife is a sword and sorcery tale, with all the flashing blades and fell magic you'd expect from something in the genre. Our protagonist is Dirk Crier, a mountain boy from a witchbred clan, and one day his grandmother sets him the task of fetching his cousin Teller. Teller has a knack for getting into trouble, but this time he's up to his neck in real darkness; the kind you don't walk out of without leaving a little blood behind you. So Dirk rides out to either bring Teller home, or to make sure his kin has plenty of company on the long road to hell.

Seriously, the first few chapters are free, go read them!

One of the questions people keep asking me about this book is who is my protagonist, and what's his arc? Well, Dirk is a member of the Crier clan who, left to his own devices, would be happy building himself a cabin on the slopes of Ben Morgh to live a fairly quiet life. But when trouble rears its head, it's his job to put it back down again. In short, he's the family's enforcer, and the nasty work tends to end up in his lap.

As to his arc, that got me wondering. Because, you see, most folks only know about the two major types of character arcs; positive character arcs (where a character confronts and overcomes a flaw or fear to succeed and become better) and negative arcs (where a character fails to overcome a flaw or fear, and hurts themselves or others in the process).

There is a third kind of character arc, though, according to Well-Storied; the flat arc. In a flat arc a character's morals and beliefs are challenged, but they hold true to who they are and overcome.

That is a perfect description of Dirk, and the arc he has in Crier's Knife.

"Flat" Is Not Synonymous With "Bad"

Now, there's a big difference between a character being flat, and that character having a flat arc. Because flat characters are dull, boring, and one-dimensional. Characters with flat arcs, on the other hand, are some of the most famous and lauded personas in literature.

Like this guy, for example.

At his core, Batman is a character with hundreds (if not thousands) of flat arc stories. Sherlock Holmes is another character with a lot of flat arcs (this condition is particularly common among detectives and serialized characters, if you keep track). The same can be said of characters like Conan, or Solomon Kane. Sam Spade, Hawk, and even Captain America find themselves with a lot of flat arcs, as well.

Because, you see, these characters already have The Truth figured out, when it comes to their worlds and stories. They don't need to climb a mountain to talk to a sensei, to uncover their inner strength, or to learn lessons to overcome a challenge. They know what to do, and they do it. So, as readers, we get the satisfaction of fast-forwarding to what many consider the "good part" of a positive story arc. The part when the protagonist has learned their lesson, overcome their flaw, and is ready to rock and roll.

(Also, to head off any quibbles here, characters who are serialized will have different arcs in different stories. It's true that character like Batman have had positive arcs and negative arcs throughout their runs, and those story lines tend to be the memorable ones. By and large, though, the bulk of their story lines are flat arcs, with the exceptions sort of proving the rule.)

There's Nothing Wrong With Holding Steady

I will admit that flat arcs tend to be some of my favorite stories. While I understand the appeal of a positive arc (because personal growth and change to overcome obstacles is motivating and engaging) as well as a negative arc (because, as I've stated in the past, I'm a great lover of the "fuck you" ending), I find that a flat arc is often the most useful for when you already want your character to know who they are, and to have their world figured out. And since flat arc stories tend to create conflicts that fall into the No, You Move category, they can be fun and compelling without the need to do a lot of navel gazing that may not be necessary for your story.

This quote is basically a summation of the flat arc conflict.

So the next time you're writing, remember that it isn't either self-discovery and success, or crashing and burning because you didn't overcome. Sometimes your character just looks at the world, plants their feet, and says, "Bring it on."

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing post! Hopefully it engaged some folks out there, and if you're curious what an engaging flat arc would look like stop on in and read the first few chapters of Crier's Knife for free!

If you want to stay on top of all my releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. If you'd like to see more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, as well as my Amazon Author Page. Lastly, if you'd like to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi as a tip, or going to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron!

Ethnicity, Gender, and Language in Your Novel

I was up at Gamehole Con earlier this month helping out TPK Games at their booth. I found some time to wander the dealer room, and at a second-hand book booth I found an old copy of Conan The Avenger. This is one of the first books "discovered" by L. Sprague de Camp (the claim is that he found incomplete and unfinished Conan manuscripts left behind by the original author Robert E. Howard, and there are some who think de Camp just wrote his own stories and passed them off as found work), and it takes place during the infamous barbarian's middle age. He's king of Aquilonia, and a sorcerer steals his wife. So he must trek across Hyborea to save her.

Classic Conan stuff right there.

Enemies crushed, and driven before me. Cue the lamentations of the women.

The book reads more like a collection of short stories chronicling the journey than it did a novel, but that's par for the course during the pulp era. Unfortunately, what was also par for the course was that characters who weren't classically European in appearance tended to be given some seriously racist (and sexist, if we're honest) descriptions. In some stories this wasn't that big a deal, because Conan was constantly surrounded by fantasy Greeks, Britons, and generic townsfolk. In this book, though, Conan had to travel across the map to reach his enemy. That meant he was going through Turan (fantasy Middle East), Koth (generic fantasy African kingdom), Vendhya (fantasy India), and finally Khitai (generic Asian fantasy realm composed of Vietnamese, Chinese, and Japanese cultures and symbolism).

This, of course, meant that Conan was surrounded by characters who weren't of European descent for most of the book. It also meant there was a lot of truly awful, teeth-grinding descriptions. Khitai was the worst (with phrases like, "the slant-eyed beauty" being used in what I assume was intended to be complementary), but there were problems all throughout the book.

Which brings me to today's point. This isn't just a problem with books from the pre-Tolkien age, when the world was backwards and ignorant. We still have them today. They're just a little more subtle now.

The Difficulties of Description in Today's Fiction

We've moved on from the barbaric era of pulp, and our goals are to keep the good things those storytellers brought to the table, while scraping off the dried ichor of xenophobia and ethnic prejudice. And, by and large, we've managed to get rid of the actual descriptions (and a few of the tropes) that defined that era of fiction. We no longer use phrases like, "a visage redolent with the savagery of the dark continent," or, "the delicacy of the female will," to describe characters. Or, if we do, we get called out on it by everyone from our editors to our betas.

But all we've done is put down the obvious problems for harder to spot ones. To paraphrase another social issue, sexism didn't mystically vanish just because women are in the workplace, and a few of them have become CEOs.

Goddamn, it's like these tropes just won't die!

One trope that's gained traction over the past several years is using food to artistically describe someone's skin tone. Chocolate, mocha, caramel, etc. have all been used to make it clear that a character has darker skin. Is that functional? Sure. But the problem is that it seems to be the only way many writers have of explaining to the audience that a certain character isn't white. So, if you find yourself walking into the kitchen to check a dessert's color, it might be time to try another metaphor.

There are other things that bear examination, too. One of my personal pet peeves is writing a character's accent. This happens a lot when someone has a brogue, but it happens when someone is French, Southern, Russian, or just speaks a particular dialect of English that's unique to a single area. This makes the text hard to read, often requiring putting the brakes on the pace for the reader to figure out what a character is saying, but it also enforces the, "my way of speaking is correct, and everything else is a deviation from that." A literary version of the, "why don't you people learn to speak proper English?"

Those are just common ones I've come across as a reader, and during my brief stint as an editor. Other problems include overuse of the word "exotic" to describe someone, the use of the word "gypsy" when we aren't talking about the Dom or Roma people and their culture, and generally not examining the word choices we use, the ideas we're presenting, or asking why characters who look and act differently get to remain cardboard cut-outs while the more relatable (and usually white) cast get to be fully fleshed-out.

Every Character Deserves a Full Treatment

One of the most common questions authors like George R. R. Martin, and creators like Joss Wheadon, continually get asked is how they write such great female characters. And the response is always something along the lines of, "they're characters, and people, who happen to be female. Why is this such a hard concept for people to grasp?"

Why indeed, George. Why indeed...

That same, zen-like logic can be applied to many of the problems authors face with gender and ethnicity as spectra. By rolling up your sleeves, fleshing out concepts fully, and making sure that every character has a story of their own to tell (even if that story never shows up on-screen) you will have a better novel. Not only that, but it's habit forming. If you get used to doing the heavy lifting of research, and you train yourself not to use certain phrases (and certain words) thoughtlessly, the end product is going to be better, overall.

Now, as always, this comes with the implied disclaimer that it's your book, and you can write it however you want. I am just some guy with a blog, and I can't tell you what to do. However, what I can say is that as a writer, as a reader, and as an editor, I want to see work where the author doesn't rely on language, or tropes, that feel like they came out of the roaring 20s.

Conan is a great character, and his books are still fun and engaging. But we should attempt to capture the spirit of adventure, and the richness of the world-building, instead of porting in all the damsels in distress, and backwater tribesman just looking for a big, white guy to lead them to victory.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing post. I hope it was helpful, and as always, that I manage to plant a seed. If you'd like to help support me and my work, why not go to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to toss some change in my jar? And, if you haven't done it yet, why not follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter to make sure you don't miss any of my updates?