Damn! My evil overlord talents are more limited than I knew.
1. Question: do people on my flist (you) read these links/watch the videos that I post? Whether you do or simply skip over them, please take the time to comment to this post with a 'Yes' or 'No' -- I won't be annoyed or judge you if you don't; I'll simply assume you're here for some other purpose like reading my fanfiction or socializing or etc. I'll continue posting as I do since I find having a record of these links and essays to refer back to (with tags) to be quite useful for myself, but I am occasionally seized by curiosity. You can even comment anonymously if you'd prefer.
2. Some really good videos on why theater/performance/acting are important, but I think the message can be applied to most arts. A quote from someone on the TED page: Theatre: it is, in fact, all about truth-- using the vehicle of illusion. Much the same technique is used by a novelist, who pursues truth in a fictional setting. In fact, one might posit that the best theatrical performances, as the best novels, are those that uncover and reveal the most (powerful, poignant) truth. It's indeed a paradox, this use of illusion to access and express truth; but truth is the goal.
3. Meta: Pet Peeves on Parade, part XXVII: plausibility, realism, and the wildly variable potentials of plot
Excerpt: Just because something has occurred in real life does not necessarily mean it will be plausible written as fiction. Nor does the fact that a human being might actually have uttered a particular phrase render it automatically effective dialogue. For that reason, it’s the writer’s responsibility not simply to provide snapshots and transcripts of real life on the page, but to write about it in such a way to make it seem plausible to the reader. Let’s face it, plenty of real-life shenanigans are completely absurd; plenty of what tumbles out of people’s mouths is at least equally so. The world as we know it does not labor under the novelist’s imperative to render actions dramatically satisfying, or even interesting.
And a bit on preventing your protagonist from feeling sorry from him or herself: One of the great truisms of the American novel is don’t let your protagonist feel sorry for himself for too long - at least, not if his problems rise to the level of requiring action to fix. Simply put, most readers would rather see a protagonist at least make an attempt to solve his problems than spend 50 pages resenting them.
Feel free to heap your protagonist (and love interest, and villain) with knotty, real-life problems - provided, of course, that none of these hardships actually prevent the protagonist from achieving his or her ultimate goal. Interesting delay creates dramatic conflict; resignation in the face of an insuperable barrier, however, is hard to make entertaining for very long. Make sure that the protagonist fights the good fight with as much vim and resources as someone who did not have those problems - or show her coming up with clever ways to make those liabilities work for her.
Again, this is not the way we typically notice people with severe problems acting in real life, but we’re talking writing that people read for pleasure here. We’re talking drama. Fictional characters who feel sorry for themselves (or who even possess the rational skills to think at length over the practical ramifications of obstacles in their paths) tend to be passive, from the reader’s point of view. They don’t do much, and while they’re not doing much, the plot grinds to a screaming halt. Yawn.
2. Some really good videos on why theater/performance/acting are important, but I think the message can be applied to most arts. A quote from someone on the TED page: Theatre: it is, in fact, all about truth-- using the vehicle of illusion. Much the same technique is used by a novelist, who pursues truth in a fictional setting. In fact, one might posit that the best theatrical performances, as the best novels, are those that uncover and reveal the most (powerful, poignant) truth. It's indeed a paradox, this use of illusion to access and express truth; but truth is the goal.
Click to view3. Meta: Pet Peeves on Parade, part XXVII: plausibility, realism, and the wildly variable potentials of plot
Excerpt: Just because something has occurred in real life does not necessarily mean it will be plausible written as fiction. Nor does the fact that a human being might actually have uttered a particular phrase render it automatically effective dialogue. For that reason, it’s the writer’s responsibility not simply to provide snapshots and transcripts of real life on the page, but to write about it in such a way to make it seem plausible to the reader. Let’s face it, plenty of real-life shenanigans are completely absurd; plenty of what tumbles out of people’s mouths is at least equally so. The world as we know it does not labor under the novelist’s imperative to render actions dramatically satisfying, or even interesting.
And a bit on preventing your protagonist from feeling sorry from him or herself: One of the great truisms of the American novel is don’t let your protagonist feel sorry for himself for too long - at least, not if his problems rise to the level of requiring action to fix. Simply put, most readers would rather see a protagonist at least make an attempt to solve his problems than spend 50 pages resenting them.
Feel free to heap your protagonist (and love interest, and villain) with knotty, real-life problems - provided, of course, that none of these hardships actually prevent the protagonist from achieving his or her ultimate goal. Interesting delay creates dramatic conflict; resignation in the face of an insuperable barrier, however, is hard to make entertaining for very long. Make sure that the protagonist fights the good fight with as much vim and resources as someone who did not have those problems - or show her coming up with clever ways to make those liabilities work for her.
Again, this is not the way we typically notice people with severe problems acting in real life, but we’re talking writing that people read for pleasure here. We’re talking drama. Fictional characters who feel sorry for themselves (or who even possess the rational skills to think at length over the practical ramifications of obstacles in their paths) tend to be passive, from the reader’s point of view. They don’t do much, and while they’re not doing much, the plot grinds to a screaming halt. Yawn.