Paintings on The Ceiling (Why Your World Building Needs Immediacy)

Picture your story as a grand cathedral. There are gleaming tiles, niches filled with statues, and candles that shed light and provide ambiance. Subtle signs are left out, and ushers direct your readers to their proper places, ensuring they can follow along with the ritual of your tale. The acoustics lets your narration reach everyone, drawing them along in the wake of your story.

Your world building, in this case, is all around your audience. It's the smell of the wood polish, the quality of the light, the murals on the walls. However, most people who show up are there for the sermon, the grand tour, and the story you're telling. They don't show up to admire the walls, because they're just there to set the scene.

Sure, this is fun... but is this what matters right now?

That is not to say that all those details are not important to your story. But the question you need to ask is whether those are the things you should be focusing on?

Because if the elements you're pointing your readers' attention at don't matter to the story, then they have no immediacy. There is almost no faster way to lose someone's attention than that.

Paintings on The Ceiling

Give you an example of what I'm talking about with a conversation I had with a fellow creator a while back. Names shan't be mentioned, nor details given, as they aren't necessary to understand the point being made.

This person had their world all figured out. They'd laid out the ages of history, which parts were known and which parts were unknown, and what sorts of relics had been left behind. They understood the world's magic system, as well as what level of technological development was in which part of the setting. It made for a fun mixed bag of sci-fantasy, which was fun and engaging, giving the reader a lovely world to romp around in.

And if they'd just stopped there, they would have been fine. But the ball wanted to keep rolling.

No, really... you can stop building now...

Because, you see, there was not just a world but an entire cosmos at play here! There was space travel, and alien empires, and extraterrestrial organizations of cybernetic peace keepers, and all sorts of other cosmic craziness. And there was nothing wrong with any of that. It was fun, it was engaging, and it was interesting.

But it did not enhance the story that was being told. All it did was drag the focus off the primary setting (this fun little rock with it's odd nations that were one part post-apocalyptic badlands and one part nouveau medieval kingdoms with wizards and shotguns in them), and add a bunch of additional stuff that was just going to be a distraction.

All that other stuff was the fresco on the ceiling of the church. Sure it might be beautiful, eye-catching, fun, and filled with all sorts of amazing details, but if it isn't actually a part of the sermon you're there to listen to, all it's doing is making you tune out, lose focus, and miss big swaths of what's being said.

The Need To Know Basis

When you're writing a story, you only give out information on a need-to-know basis. You, as the creator, need to know all the little nooks and crannies of your world. If it's pertinent to you to know that the sword your protagonist found in a tomb was forged in fires heated with the bones of dead warriors, and the carbon that introduced into the process is where the steel developed such unusual properties for an iron age style setting, then by all means put that in your notes. But don't take time out of your book to have someone explain the intricacies of chemical changes during the forging of a blade if it is in no way relevant to your story, and it does not move your plot forward in any way.

I love this documentary, too, but don't waste the reader's attention.

This applies to basically all your world building; it needs immediacy in order for it to be relevant, rather than a distraction.

Now, that doesn't mean you should just ignore things that aren't on the straight path of your plot. If a major city is the headquarters of the Wyvern Knights, mention that. Have them flying around, or put one of two of them in the background. But don't step away from the story you're actually telling to give us a history lesson on that order, and on wyverns in the region if it's not germane to the story you're telling. If your setting has two moons, you should probably mention that during a night time scene, but don't go on for an entire paragraph about what those moons' affects on the planet are, or the mythology surrounding them if it doesn't affect your main cast and what they're doing. If there's a wizard in your scene, and they're doing wizard shit, describe what we see rather than giving us a big damn aside about how magic works in this world, unless you have a novice character receiving a lecture about it, and that lecture somehow fits into the journey that character is taking.

Everything, and I do mean everything should be in the service of immersing your reader into the story you're telling. Let them drink in the details, but remember that those details are not your story. They're stage dressing. They're atmosphere. Let them be that, instead of putting them in center stage so you can talk about them. Because unless these facts are important for the readers to know to understand what's happening, all you're doing is distracting them.

And if you do need to explain to your readers what's happening, don't just have your narrator do it. Work it into dialogue, build scenes around the learning process, or provide enough clues to pick up context. We don't need to know the intricate process of becoming the Sanctum Dominatus of the library, but we can probably figure out by the way other people react to the title that this person is serious business, and that if they are displeased with you then you're in a lot of trouble.

Like, Follow, and Come Back Again!

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!

Writing a Bestseller is Like Winning The Lottery (How Facing Facts Can Help You Beat The Odds)

Have you ever stopped to consider what the odds of writing a New York Times bestseller actually are? Well, in case you haven't looked it up yourself, both Forbes and Free Money Finance say that your odds are about 1 in 200. On the one hand, those odds are significantly better than winning the Powerball (about 1 in 238,000,000 in case you're thinking about buying a ticket), but those odds still aren't great. Especially if you've got to put in sweat, blood, creative juices, and years of hellish effort just to get that one ticket ready.

Come on, baby, papa needs a new laptop!

It's pretty easy to find that discouraging. However, if you can face the facts, and accept that you probably won't beat the odds, you'll actually find the game is a lot easier to play.

Ancient Greece, Acceptance, and Spinning The Wheel

In case you're not an etymology geek, the word happen comes from the Greek hap, which referred to chance and fortune. While today we think of happiness as something we have, as a commodity generated from inside ourselves, in the ancient Western world happiness was something that literally happened to you. It came and it went much like luck, ebbing and flowing with fate and favor. And while people still had bad times, the philosophy of the language was basically that you accepted what the gods and chance gave you, because there was nothing you could do about it one way or the other.

And you would be amazed at how freeing that can be in a professional sense.

Let me give you an example.

As a quick for instance, not long after I released my pulp fantasy novel Crier's Knife, I held an ebook giveaway for it. As promotional devices go, these giveaways are a smart bet. People like free stuff, it increases the traffic to your page, and you see a lot more action than you otherwise might. I moved 700 copies over a weekend, which at the level I work at was a pretty decent success. My previous giveaway, which was for my steampunk noir collection New Avalon: Love and Loss in The City of Steam barely hit 500 copies, so I was making clear progress.

Was I involved in that process? Absolutely. I was the one who decided when to host the giveaway, I was the one who made the social media posts, and I was the one who made sure the book was ready for prime time, so to speak. I kept the comments going on the forums, and I was the one who drew as much attention to it as I possibly could. At the end of the day, though, the downloads were only partially determined by my efforts; mostly, they were determined by raw chance.

Every part of this process was affected by so many factors that were outside of my control. Facebook and Reddit's group algorithms decided who saw my posts, and more importantly who didn't see them. I also had no control over the reaction people had to my post. If they were in a good mood, or a bad one. If they decided to download my book since they liked free stuff, or if they down-voted my post because they didn't like something about my description. I had no control over who shared the link with other people, who actually read the book once they downloaded it, and of the people that did read it who left a review.

I was tossing a message in a bottle out into the ocean, and hoping against hope that a YouTube influencer with millions of fans found it, then told all their followers to go buy a copy. That didn't happen, but at the same time there was no guarantee that it would. No magic assurance that my book would become a success if I just tweaked these words in the description, or posted it on this platform as opposed to another one. There is no magic formula to bring a stampede of people with their dollars held out for more of your story.

And the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be to keep trying to make that very thing happen.

You've Got Enough of The Burden as It Is

Don't misunderstand me, here; this is your job, and you are a big part of what goes into it. You're the one who writes the book, helps with the promotion, and who is the face of your brand. You're the one turning up at shows, making your pitch, and getting people interesting. You are, in other words, the one who is buying the ticket.

You simply have no guarantee that the ticket you buy is going to be a winner.

You can, however, stack the odds in your favor.

I said this back in If You Write One Story It May Be Bad. Write A Hundred, And The Odds Are In Your Favor, but it bears repeating. The more you create, the more your put out, and the louder your signal gets, the better the odds you have of people actually discovering you. Much like how buying one ticket might only have a small chance of winning big, but if you buy a few hundred, or a few thousand, well, the odds are looking better all the time.

Because if you put out one book, one article, one YouTube video, etc., your odds of going viral overnight are pretty slim unless you already have a massive fan base of people interested in your work, or you have a gigantic budget to pay for the advertising machine it would take to acquire all those eyes. However, little successes add up over time, and every person you win over as a fan is one more snowflake to stack on your mountain. You pile them up slowly, and eventually there are enough of them to cause an honest-to-goodness avalanche.

Sure, there are some people who buy one lottery ticket as a goof, and win millions of dollars by sheer happenstance. Just like there are people whose books just happened to be in the right genre, or who told just the right story at the right time to get everyone's attention. There's no rhyme or reason to it, because it happens to good books and bad, to books that are heavily promoted, and indie darlings no one has ever heard of.

But don't you worry about that. Because whether the odds are with you, or against you, doesn't matter. Because sometimes your luck will be good, and sometimes it will be bad. But if you focus on telling good stories, on spreading the word, and on cultivating your little crop of readers, you'll get there eventually. Even better, you'll get there without "what-iffing" yourself inside out, wondering why other books got more attention, sold more copies, or got more likes than yours did.

Are there factors you can quantify? Sure there are. But they're only a tiny slice of the pie, and the sooner you learn to accept that luck is a huge part of whether you succeed or fail, the sooner you can get back to work without that huge weight of worry on your shoulders. Do your best, and let the rest take care of itself, because you cannot force fortune to turn your way.

Like, Follow, and Stay Tuned!

That's all for this week's Business of Writing! If you'd like to see more of my work, take a look at 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!

An Examination of The Chivalric Hero

I've been on something of a character archetype bender of late round these parts. I started with an examination of classic anti-heroes, and then moved onto the barbarian hero, but there's one more archetype that I think is worth examining. One that I think we're all familiar with, even if we know them by other names.

The Chivalric Hero.

My strength is as the strength of ten, for my heart is pure.

While we often ignore or ridicule Chivalric Heroes in the modern-day, there's a lot we could learn from them by reading between the lines. Both in terms of understanding what makes their stories work, and what makes these heroes appealing in their own, unique ways.

Classic Heroes, and The Age of Chivalry

I've talked about this in the previous installments of my explorations into heroes, but just so no one has to backtrack and we're all on the same page, a Classic Hero is not just the story's protagonist. The term refers to certain traits that were shared by characters who fulfilled the role of hero within the story in antiquity.

These traits include, but are not limited to:

- Unique Birth: The children of kings and gods, Classic Heroes are special from day one.

- Surety of Action: Classic Heroes did not doubt themselves, and they acted quickly.

- Lack of Flaws: Classic Heroes often lacked flaws, or simply had a single, Tragic flaw.

- Were Attractive: Whether charmers or not, Classic Heroes exterior beauty reflected their power.

And so on, and so forth.

So where does chivalry come into this?

As time went on, and we entered the Romantic period (that is to say, stories written in common language, which also happened to feature knights, ladies, courtly love, and other hallmarks that grew into today's idea of the romance genre), we developed the Chivalric Hero. Characters like Lancelot and Arthur, Gawain and Galahad, as well as historical figures like Charlemagne and Alexander the Great were fitted into this mold when their stories were written around the heyday of John Milton.

While there is a lot of overlap between the Chivalric Hero and the Classic Hero, there is one notable difference right off the bat. The Classic Hero (characters like Achilles or Cu Chulainn, for example) fought almost exclusively for themselves. While they could be claimed by their nation or their people after death, in life their deeds and struggles belonged only to them. Chivalric Heroes, by contrast, fought for something higher than themselves. They fought for a lord, they fought for a code, and in many cases they fought for the idea of a nation, or for a god.

That difference in cause is, in some ways, one of the most significant things about the Chivalric Hero. It also explains where they draw their power from, and why the challenges in their stories are often of a baser, and more inner-directed variety.

You Need To Build Up Your Power (And You Can Lose It)

One of the most obvious aspects of many Classic Heroes, as well as the Barbarian Hero archetype, is their raw physicality. From Conan, to Tarzan, to Enkidu, these characters draw their strength from within. Their bodies and their skills are the wellspring of their ability to affect the story, and it is through them that they triumph over those who stand in their way.

For Chivalric Heroes, though, that often isn't the case.

A vow, inside a steel shell, is strength eternal.

Chivalric Heroes are often powered by external forces that are dependent on them performing certain tasks, or avoiding certain temptations. Dedication to a code, subservience to a king, or a willingness to keep oneself pure even through great hardship, are all common themes of these characters. And it is their actions that builds layers of strength around them that helps turn them into heroes.

Heroism is not something that most Chivalric Heroes have simply by virtue of existing; it has to be prompted by something. The character has to dedicate themselves to the service of god, to their lord, or to the code. They draw symbols and protections to themselves as well, layering them on in order to gain strength from those things. And when those symbols break, it is as if a part of the Chivalric Hero has also broken.

As an example, a Chivalric Hero's sword snapping in a duel would be devastating to them, if that sword was part of the layers that built up their strength. In many cases it isn't just a tool, but rather an extension of the character. Whereas someone like Kull or Conan, infamous barbarian heroes that they are, would simply toss the broken weapon aside, and snatch up another from a fallen foe. For a Chivalric Hero, that moment of their steel breaking is often symbolic of failing a test of some sort, and of being rocked to their core.

The threat of losing their power if they make a false move is a central theme for many Chivalric Heroes. Even Marvel's Thor (at least in his early comic incarnations, and his first film), had to prove that he was worthy to wield his powers. If he became cruel, or ruthless, or gave into vanity, then his strength would desert him, and his hammer would refuse to be wielded. This is not dissimilar to how characters like Lancelot or Galahad were considered titans in battle as long as their hearts remained pure, and they upheld their vows and oaths. It's also why temptation tends to be a central theme to their stories, and how resisting it is the true act of a hero.

From Tristan and Isolde, to Lancelot and Guinevere, to one could argue Samson and Delilah, to Gawain and the Green Knight, the true test of a Chivalric Hero is rarely in how many foes they can fight, or how mighty their blows are. It's whether they can resist temptation to do what it is easy, what is pleasurable, or what is beneficial to themselves over what is right. And the point that those stories make is that it is your ability to endure these things without giving into them that underscores you as a hero.

Like, Follow, and Come Back Again!

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 Cascade Sales/Views, and Why More Products Means Steadier Earnings

One of the most common pieces of advice I see from writers is that you should always work on a series, because it's a guaranteed income. While I don't agree with that wording (nothing is guaranteed in the world of entertainment), the nugget of truth they're trying to get at is sound. In short, if you write a series of books then you are getting your readers invested in a bigger project, and making them feel like they're obligated to buy the next one in order to see what happens to their favorite characters. However, you don't have to write a series in order to net yourself more readers; just by virtue of writing a book that a reader liked, they're going to want more from you.

When they go looking for it, that is what I call a cascade.

Once the rapids get them, they're all yours.

In short, whenever you release a new piece of content (whether it's a book, a blog, a video, etc.), you're tossing a rock into a pool. Whether the initial splash is big or small, it causes ripples. Those ripples represent the way the impact flows outwards, and how even a modest initial splash can still have meaningful repercussions down the line.

I'll give you an example of what I'm talking about.

So, for those who don't know, I write a gaming blog called Improved Initiative. Not all that long ago I put up a post titled The Non-Problem of Making Monks Fit Your Setting. Short version is that there were some people out there who had cognitive dissonance about mixing "Eastern" martial artists with "Western" fantasy, and thus they just banned these kinds of characters. I wrote the piece pointing out how it's really not all that much of a stretch to include multiple kinds of fantasy in a single, collaborative project, and gave some examples of how you could make it work. As long as everyone follows the rules, you should be fine. I'd also written an older article, 5 Tips For Playing Better Monks, which I linked in that post, since I was talking about monks and such.

Apparently this was a sore spot in the gaming community, with a lot of people agreeing with my points, and an equal number of people vehemently disagreeing that you could ever have more than one strain of fantasy active in a given game. That led to some rather spirited debate in the comments, but it also led to a lot of people sharing the article around. While it snarfed up about 10,000 views in its original release run (not bad for one of my gaming articles), the advice article about playing better monks also got a thousand reads and change out of the deal. Which meant that, in addition to how well the actual post did, I got another couple of bucks to put in my pocket as a related but separate post of mine also caught some of those ripples.

That is, essentially, how a cascade works.

Keep The Cascade in Mind

Whether we're talking about book sales, article views, blog reads, you can get a cascade out of nearly anything. And often times it's the things you don't expect that yield some of the biggest results.

Which is why you need to always look at the impact something could have, and make sure you set up your marketing in such a way that you get the biggest possible splash onto your already existing content.

Or that the new fire re-ignites old ashes, if you like that metaphor better?

 

For example, when I wrote an article about Bartitsu, which is basically Victorian-era MMA, I made sure that I linked an article about Glima, which is Viking-style wrestling, just in case it got popular with the fight crowd. I always make sure to link back to my archives when I write new articles, making sure I can direct the flow of interested eyeballs to go read older pieces in a particular category. And when I come out with a new book, I make sure to mention My Amazon Author Page so that interested readers can see the whole spectrum, instead of just the latest installment.

Any given cascade might be a one-time runoff... but it might not be. There's always going to be a few readers out there who don't just read one article, watch one video, or buy one book. They're the ones who bookmark your site, who favorite your channel, and who add your work to their wish list. Those people were just curious readers when they clicked your initial link, but now they're budding fans.

Once you get those readers going deep down the rabbit hole, they're yours. But you need to make sure you gave them more than just one thing to look at. Because some readers will just walk away after satisfying their initial curiosity... but those who want more are going to happily dig through your archives, pick up older works, and just have a merry time spiking your views and sale counts.

As long as you left them a signpost for where to go next, that is.

That's all for this week's Business of Writing! If you'd like to see more of my work, take a look at 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!

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!

Use Storytelling in Your Marketing (Not Just in Your Product)

If you've ever been to a showing at an art gallery, then you probably know it isn't the art that people buy. Or not just the art, at any rate. It's the story behind the painting, the sculpture, the carvings that they take home with them. The tale of how the artist was inspired by an insane fever dream of a demon trying to devour them, or how the sculptor wanted to honor all of the men who set good examples for how he should comport himself. Those are the things that get people's attention, and which set fire to their imaginations. These stories lend importance to the art, and they act as a bridge between someone admiring it from afar, and becoming a part of its story.

And that is marketing at its finest.

A good story can put an extra zero or two on your price tag.

If you've been wondering how to get people to invest in your art, then you should remember that people don't just buy a product; they buy the story of that product.

What Story Are You Telling?

Every piece of art has a story behind it, and that includes your book. What inspired you to write it? What were some of the bizarre insights you gained while writing it? What is something that drove you to put this particular tale out there, and to add your voice to the world? Those are the things that can help you stand out, and which will get people's attention.

And since we're looking for examples, I'll start.

So, if you've seen my novel Crier's Knife, you probably know it's a fantasy novel based more in the pre-Tolkien era of Weird Tales, and similar fiction. When a member of the witch-bred Crier clan goes missing, the family matriarch summons Dirk Crier up the mountain and tasks him with bringing back his wayward cousin. Alive if he can, but with plenty of company on the dead man's cart if that isn't possible. Though a simple man with a simple, brutal skill, Dirk quickly finds himself surrounded by enemies on all sides, with a hinterlands cult led by a bizarre sorceress calling upon the forgotten magics of an ancient people.

And that's solid enough, as books go. But that's not the story of my book, if you see what I mean?

My book's story goes back to my grandfather. He was an avid reader himself, but his genres of choice were Westerns and detective stories. And because I would unfailingly read all the books I brought with on any family outing, he always had one or two laying around. So I developed a healthy appreciation for these stories, recognizing how they set the mold for other pieces that came later, and how many of the archetypes of the fiction still persist throughout other genres one would never associate with cowboys and outlaws.

When I got older, and told my grandfather I was going to be an author, he didn't laugh at the notion. And unlike a lot of other adults he didn't tell me to focus on college, a degree, and a career, because that sort of thing just isn't going to pay my bills. Instead, he took a sip of his coffee, nodded his head, and told me that I should write Westerns. There were a lot of older folks around who loved them, it was okay if the books were short, and the stories were never going to change with the times the way sci-fi or fantasy books tended to.

That always stuck with me, and when it came time to write a fantasy novel of my own I wanted to make it something he would recognize, and that he'd appreciate. So I drew on the setup of classic stories like The Sacketts, and made an unusual mountain clan to act as the backbone of the story. They had their Talents, and their strange ways, but at the end of the day I like to think my grandfather would have recognized Dirk Crier, and seen that in a little way he helped shape this story I'd made.

Even Being Story Adjacent is Sometimes Good Enough

I can hear a few folks out there right now protesting that they don't have a story like that backing their book. They just wrote it because they thought it was a cool story, and they wanted to make some money to pay their bills.

Nothing wrong with that. But if that's the case, then you need to at least put your work in a story adjacent position to get it some notice.

You're boring. Stand next to someone interesting, and catch the run-off.

Being story adjacent is, essentially, telling a related story in a way that draws attention to your work, but isn't directly promoting your work.

For example, I wrote a series of posts on gaming subreddits a while ago asking my fellow players who the worst paladins they'd ever played with were. I told a story about a terrible game of my own, and got the conversation started. While I was there, though, I worked in a mention that I had recently edited and re-homed my article 5 Tips For Playing Better Paladins, and that it got me thinking about some of the horrible examples out there in the gaming community.

Those posts led to a lot of upvotes, a lot of comments, and a lot of attention. And even though the link to my work was just sort of there in the text, unnecessary for those who were telling their own stories and leaving comments, it still received run-off attention because it was in proximity to the story I was telling. Not everyone clicked that link and read through it, but a lot of people did. Some people may have bookmarked the page, keeping it ready for when they need it. Others probably forwarded it to their friends, and shared it on social media. Point is, by telling a story that had only a tertiary connection to my artistic work, I drew attention to that work, and increased my earnings.

That is the power of storytelling.

That's all for this week's Business of Writing! If you'd like to see more of my work, take a look at 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!

Getting Back To Basics When It Comes To Anti-Heroes

When you hear the word anti-hero, what comes to your mind? Unshaven men with dirty knives stinking of cordite and blood? The hard-eyed look of a private eye as she pulls the trigger on someone, and walks away as their blood runs down the gutter? Maybe it's the vigilante, out on the streets, just waiting for somebody, anybody, to try him?

Ringing any bells?

However, what would you say if I told you the original characters who fell under this definition were more like Falstaff or Bilbo Baggins than they were Frank Castle? Because language is a funny thing, and sometimes getting back to the roots of a term or idea can give you some fresh perspective on it.

What Makes A Hero?

When you look at Classical heroes, you get a very particular set of attributes that you may not think of in terms of modern heroes. Classical heroes had to be of noble birth (or at least auspicious birth, since many were the children of gods), for example, and their struggles were always for themselves. Their deaths were always unusual or notable, and they typically had no flaws with the exception of their single, tragic flaw. This was the mold that we cast characters like Achilles, Odysseus, and other such O.G. heroes from, and it was the original standard.

Heard you were talking shit. Mind repeating that?

This mold changed over the years, and it was updated during the Medieval period. Heroes in these epics could be of common birth, though they were typically nobles in disguise, or without their knowledge as Reference points out. Their end goals, though, had to be noble ones. They often fought for their lord, or for a cause, rather than for themselves. Also, heroes during this period needed to suffer. The suffering was important, and it had to be physical in order to really fit the mold.

Tortured heroes were very much a literal thing during this period.

In both of these versions, heroes shared certain qualities. They were characters of purpose and action, they were capable, and they were typically dashing, clever, or both. They rarely had any real weaknesses to speak of, and they would typically boast the one, classic flaw that could lead to a tragic downfall (though even that wasn't present all the time). In many of the later cases, the heroes were possessed of powerful ideals, and they always did the right thing.

For modern touchstones, Superman is probably the best example of a character with capital-h Heroic qualities that most of us know.

So What's An Anti-Hero?

An anti-hero is, in essence, someone who is not a hero. That's literally it; someone who lacks the qualities of the hero, but who is still an important character in the narrative (and possibly the protagonist).

Kind of like that guy on the left, there.

Frodo is, in many ways, a Classical Anti-Hero. He's physically small, often doubts himself, has little to no capability in a fight, and struggles with himself at least as often as he does with the challenges of his journey. Which makes sense, after all, as his whole arc is an average guy in a big scary world that he can barely understand as an allegory for a WWI soldier's experience.

By contrast, though, Aragorn is a classical Hero, capital H. He's a noble in hiding, he's capable, he's handsome, he's sure of himself, and he takes decisive action when we follow him. He doesn't struggle with his decisions, by and large, and he inspires others to follow him.

To be clear, here, that doesn't make Aragorn a better character. It makes him a classical Hero. The two are not the same thing.

Changing Times and Language

While Classical Anti-Heroes have always been with us, it was shifts in literature that told the stories of more common (and more mortal) people that led to a strange shift in styles and tropes. Because when most people think of anti-heroes, they tend to think of their methods rather than their qualities as characters.

The idea that characters should be genuinely flawed, and that they should have to struggle, is commonplace in our fiction these days. In fact, if a Classical Hero shows up being effortlessly charming and sure of their actions, people often roll their eyes at them. Where's the struggle, we ask? Where is the grappling with who they are, and what they're doing?

Where is their lack of genuine, heroic quality that makes them more like the rest of us?

Look at them, all leaping tall buildings at a single bound, and shit...

It's interesting that the idea of something that is essentially antithetical to the nature of the hero has become a requirement of heroes in a lot of our modern fiction. That we have changed so much from our old stories that we are more interested in those who are weak, who are scared, or who are unsure than in those who are strong, brave, and certain.

More interested in those who are like regular people, than in the idealized figures who stand above them in many ways.

It's for this reason that I personally recommend referring to characters using specific terms like protagonist, rather than your hero, or getting bogged down in what kind of anti-hero your story is or isn't featuring. Because clarity of language (particularly in the design phase) can make for a much cleaner, clearer project.

Trust me on that one. After all, the character of my last novel is in many ways a classic Hero, though most would consider him an anti-hero by modern standards.

Seriously, go give it a read!

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!