Chantal Boudreau's Blog - Posts Tagged "characters"

I’m not one normally for choosing names for characters based on meaning. I usually just go with a gut feeling of what sounds like an appropriate name for the individual. With Sleep Escapes Us, however, I wanted legitimate Thracian names and my research also provided name meanings along with culturally-specific names. The majority of the names I used were sourced from Ivan Duridanov’s “The Language of the Thracians,” specifically from the section on Thracian onomastics - personal names, with a couple of exceptions. Since I had the definitions before me while I was making my selection, they did influence my choice. Here are the characters in order of appearance and the meanings for the names:

Zelmis – Diminutive form of Diazelmis, “god’s descendant”. I thought it ironic since he would actually be a god’s ancestor.

Hecate, & Zalmoxis – along with Bendis and Zagreus, these were deities of the Thracian mythos. Zagreus was actually the Thracian name for Dionysus, who was reportedly born of a mortal mother.

Iulia – "Young". Considering she died young and there is not much known about her other than a fleeting glimpse during Zelmis’s memories, I thought it appropriate.

Alina – I found this listed as both “light” and “noble”. I thought this defined her well.

Dentysyskos - "Daughter of the clan"

Mukaburis - "Man (son) of the clan." I felt he and his wife were good examples of the standard Gataen settlement members, so the names suited them.

King Rhemoxos – I went with history on this one, even though this was fantasy. This was an actual Thracian king.

Cezula – “Black and white”, the colours of her hair and skin

Kerza - from the Thracian adjective kerasa, “black”, an offshoot from her mother

Suratralis – “Strong, brave”, an apt description. I also wanted a name that distinguished him from the rest of his family.

Brinkazis – “fat, stout, a boor”, an understatement, but still appropriate

Pytros – “bawler, squaller, babbler”. I wanted derogatory names for the generals, since they were the villains.

Dentupes – “a boy, a son of the clan”. Fitting the theme of the family.

Mukakenthos – “child, descendant of the clan”. Also fitting the theme of the family.

Prince Tarutinos (Tinos) – “holding a spear, lancer”. Considering his role in the story, I couldn’t resist this one...

Skaris – “quick”, although apparently not quick enough.

Sleep Escapes Us is posted on Scribd.com can be read in its entirety in first draft format until December 31, 2011. You can find the first chapter at:
http://www.scribd.com/doc/71346987/Sl...

I’ve seen a lot of talk recently about inequality in the publishing industry, how male writers get more coverage, percentage-wise, in top review publications and how this is an unfair representation of writers in general. I’ve also read backlash where men counter this with the argument “women don’t write serious fiction” – i.e. women writers mostly write “chick-lit”.

Honestly, I’m not sure if any of this is something I should be concerned about. As far as I am aware, I haven’t been discriminated against for being a woman. Then again, I don’t know if any of the rejections I have received have been in part because of my gender. I don’t go out of my way to hide who I am. I don’t use a pseudonym when submitting (with one genre exception, and I use a feminine pseudonym), and I don’t hide my gender by presenting only my first initial. Some women writers have chosen to do that – there are examples throughout history – but I’ve never been inclined that way.

Where I have encountered discrimination is actually when I have chosen to use a male PoV character in my stories, and I have done that on many occasion. In fact, at the moment I am writing an alternate history zombie horror story set in the Southern US with an African-American, male PoV. I’m sure I’ll face criticism for this choice, but I don’t write things the way other people dictate. I write what the story calls for.

I’ve actually had a man approach me and berate me for having a male PoV in Fervor (criticism based on the back of the book blurb – he had never read the book.) I’ve also seen complaints from other women suggesting that it is a woman writer’s responsibility to write all of their stories with a strong female PoV. Is it? Really?

What you’ll find in my stories are a wide range of characters with a broad variety of strengths and flaws. Some of my heroes are men and others women. My villains come in all shapes and sizes too. Many of my characters walk a very blurred line in the grey, and sometimes you can’t tell if they are meant to be hero or villain. I have female characters who are a little dim and helpless, and some who have been soldiers for most of their lives, hardened veterans. I have male characters who are pacifists and some who are serial killers. As I mentioned, I write what the story needs. What gives someone else the right to tell me who I should cast in the role of PoV?

To sum up, what I want to say is that I would hope nobody judges my work as a writer from the perspective of my gender, be it refusing to take my work seriously or demanding a certain type of PoV character. I like to consider myself a person, not defined by my gender at all. I hope others will grant me the same respect.

I noticed on a friend’s blog that archeologists have uncovered proof of another female gladiator in the Roman arenas. It brought me back to a discussion I had with a writer friend regarding strong female characters. When I suggested I like to see strong female characters, she automatically jumped to the idea that I was implying the stereotypical fantasy swordswoman, battling alongside the men with her rippling muscles, bronze brassiere and Xena-like war-cries.

Far from it.

All I meant was: “please don’t give me another story where every woman significant to the plot is either a doormat, an ornament or a victim.”

I admit - I do have warrior women in some of my tales. I have female Templars, soldiers like my Dee Aaronsod or Brianna, and my apprentice mercenary character, Carlisle. In fact the head of my Red-Sun mercenary guild is a villainous woman named Minerva. But a lot of my strong female characters are miles from the stereotypical Amazonian fighter. They range from a stout little middle-aged, ex-school teacher who is willing to brave a mountain full of dangers for the sake of helping others, my Reeree in the soon to be released “Casualties of War”, to my super-mom, Margot, who works as a financial administrative assistant and takes on some exceptional responsibilities, in “Just Another Day”. I even have a primary female character in my unpublished Snowy Barrens trilogy, the shamaness Fawn, who is extremely strong, despite being a healer, a social outcast because of some disturbing facial scarring, and a pacifist. I consider Sarah one of my strongest characters in Fervor, but she is not physically strong, wilful, contrary or bold. She is loving and understanding and offers as much of herself as she can possibly give, even though it might put her in danger.

Strong doesn’t just mean emotionally fierce and physically powerful. Strong can mean taking action, not bending when others oppose you, offering commitment to follow through on the things you’ve started and showing resolve when things get tough. It can mean not turning away and leaving things for others to fix, if they go bad. It can mean staying true to yourself, and helping those you love, or even helping complete strangers who need you, for that matter. Strength comes in various shades and designs, not just a single stereotype.

I’m not playing the feminist card and saying every woman in the story should be strong, for the sake of serving as a positive role model for any girls/young women who might be reading it. Fiction should reflect life, and there are a range of people out there, including doormats, ornaments and victims, so these personality types will play a part in stories – what I’m saying is there are an awful lot of women out there who make a very positive impact on others’ lives, and that should be reflected too, especially if you want me, as a reader, to be able to relate properly to your story.

So please, give me something other than just damsels in distress or women who can’t go on without their man. Give me something strong.

It’s funny how sometimes we can draw inspiration from characters. I’ve seen articles lately about how readers can be influenced by the characters in the books they read, carrying over elements of the characters into real life – a method of transforming theory into practice, I guess. If that works for readers, I suspect it also works for writers. I’m not sure if this is a common experience for all writers, but I often feel a profound connection with my characters, more so than the ones in the books I read – even those that have touched me in a very strong way.

I find myself identifying with the strangest of characters, like my gnomish ex-schoolteacher wizard’s apprentice, Reeree, who appears in my Masters and Renegades series, both in Magic University and my soon-to-be-released Casualties of War. Now I’m not a fan of the colour pink, and I’m often one of the taller people in a crowd, so on a physical level, I can’t relate to her very well. But what I do understand is playing it safe for the better part your life and then suddenly reaching a place where you realize a risk is necessary or your life will prove quite pointless. While nobody would ever accuse me of being normal, I certainly let things play out in an “ordinary” way, until I found it just wasn’t enough. Like Reeree, I came to the conclusion that I wanted my life to be something more than ordinary. I want to do something significant and meaningful. I want to serve some higher purpose.

At the point in my life where that notion truly hit home, I started taking chances. It would have been nice to make as drastic a change as Reeree – to make that leap without looking back...no regrets, but I’m afraid I wasn’t as bold. My chosen path has been slower going, a gradual transformation, but I’ve done a lot in the last few years, much of which I might have considered impossible before now. I’m hoping it will eventually lead me to that opportunity to make a real difference in the world, be it writing a book that moves people to better their lives, or even just helps one person to overcome some sort of adversity, or perhaps, make some sizable contribution to a charitable cause.

In the meantime, I’ll keep working towards that objective of being anything but ordinary, like Reeree, but with smaller steadier steps. I’ve managed to get this far in a very short amount of time and ... hey ... it doesn’t hurt to dream.

…in my stories, that is. What did you think I meant?

There was an interesting conversation thread amongst some writer friends today about killing off characters, and whether any of us regretted killing one off in a particular story, or if we ever rewrote a story to restore a character to life. Truth is that while I do sometimes find it difficult to kill off a favourite character, I won’t hesitate to do so for the sake of a plot. In fact, I have killed off entire villages and races out of necessity to further a storyline.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one for gratuitous violence (funny coming from a horror writer, eh?) and I don’t make a practice of killing characters I dislike out of spite, but if you are writing a story where people are at risk of grievous bodily harm on a regular basis, or are in the midst of a war, and nobody ever dies, how realistic is that? I can think of several books I wanted to throw across the room because the only characters who die are bad guys or people who show up just in time to be slaughtered. I refuse to limit the deaths in my own stories to villains and to “red-shirts.” A death has a much greater impact if the character is one the reader actually cares about.

I’m also not saying that there aren’t meaningless deaths that will occur in a tale, especially one that involves war, disease or other hardships, but if you are going to bump off a preferred primary character, it helps if there is a reason for it. Perhaps that character’s death will serve as a catalyst for uniting people who are at odds with one another, or as a sacrifice to launch into motion a significant event that will help others. Perhaps they are willing to martyr themselves for a just cause or to exact revenge. Suicides, accidents, murder, or death by old age – it doesn’t matter the method since it is going to happen to everyone eventually. The death of a main character can add plenty of flavour and meaning to a story, even if their loss might make the reader cringe or cry. After all, isn’t part of the reason we write to move people in some way?

I’ve had my beta reader call me “murderer” for weeks at a time, but I would never go back and change one of those unhappy occurrences merely to appease her. That being said, on one occasion, and only one, I changed my mind about killing a character because of something she told me while reading the earlier chapters prior to a planned death. I don’t know if she even realized that she had spared that character’s life, but I don’t regret letting him live either.

And death is not necessarily the end of a character, especially not in a horror or fantasy setting. They can reappear in your tale, be it via dreams, time travel, rising as one of the undead, magical resurrection or even just the reminiscing of other characters. It’s up to the writer whether or not the character will die completely or be revisited in some other way, shape or form.

Just to let you know, if a death of a character in one of my stories makes you cry, there’s a good chance it made me cry too. When I know I’m about to have someone important breathe their last breath, I find a dark corner with my netbook and my box of tissues, and warn everyone else to leave me alone.

After all, just because I like to kill people, it doesn’t mean I’m heartless.

How often are writers asked why they write, and better yet, why do they write a particular genre? It can be a difficult question to answer, especially without seeming trite or clichéd.

I write multiple genres, mostly leaning towards the darker side of the spectrum, but I actually began with fantasy. I had an interesting five-star review that described my fantasy work as “fantasy for non-fantasy readers” and I guess the reviewer is right. I started writing fantasy because I’m a huge fan of the genre, and I was following the “write what you want to read” doctrine. But I have to clarify this point - while I love fantasy, I also hate it.

There are fantasy writers I find enchanting and exhilarating, writers like Jack L. Chalker, Tad Williams, Lawrence Watt-Evans, and Tanith Lee, but mostly because their work is not what I consider typical of the genre. That’s exactly why I love their kind of fantasy.

Apparently, I’m not a true fantasy fan, however, because the norm for fantasy, the epic high fantasy novels with lofty ideals and super-human flawless heroes, over-descriptive by my taste, bore me to tears. I can’t stand encyclopaedic segments inserted in amongst the story to demonstrate the author’s world-building talents, or pages and pages of imagery-riddled description of the landscape or the characters’ clothing, accessories or hair-dos. I think the ardent escapists demand these things, reading fantasy to completely free themselves from their world and their troubles. If it comes into play as a legitimate part of the story, that’s great, but in most cases, I find those kinds of things superfluous at best, and often poorly integrated into the tale.

As well, I like realism to my fantasy - edgy, gritty and cruel. Things aren’t always pretty in real life, and I want that reflected in the fantasy I read. If you do something dangerous on a regular basis, someone eventually gets hurt very badly and/or dies. If people are subject to torture or more responsibility than a normal person can be expected to handle, they break down, they might snap and turn to something like alcoholism to cope, or they may even go insane. Magic doesn’t always work the way it is supposed to because spell-casters are regular people and therefore fallible. Like in Stephen King’s fantasy writing, royalty sitting unobserved alone in their throne rooms, with nothing to occupy themselves, might just pick their noses out of boredom. (Yeah – ewww – but that’s realism, folks.)

I’ve seen evidence that my kind of fantasy doesn’t appeal to the average fantasy fan, the ones who read fantasy explicitly for that extreme display of world-building and those flowery descriptions, and not for the story proper. One reviewer complained there was no world building to my Magic University (she gave me a one-star rating). There was no doubt some truth to that depending on what she was looking for in the way of world-building. The story is set in one location over a 24-hour period, which limits exposure to the world and anything outside of that setting. There is no well-defined good guy/bad guy, and all of the characters are flawed in some way. Not pretty, and not perfect.

There *are* subtle elements of world-building to the tale, carefully integrated in appropriate places, such as the differences between the Masters and the Renegades and the biases and conflicts that exist because of it, reptilian culture and what social restrictions led to Nia’s exile, Shetland’s struggle with being magically endowed when he is a member of a race that normally repels magic, just to name a few examples. If you are accustomed to preferring that “in-your-face” display of world-building, details like these that have been carefully interwoven into the plot will probably fly under your radar, and my stories aren’t for you.

On the other hand, if you want something different, story-focussed fantasy that feels like it could actually happen if magic and mythical creatures did exist, you might get a big kick out of my work.

Some readers do.

After reading the response an aspiring comic book artist was given during a critique of her artwork, I honestly took offense to some of what the critic had to say (you can find the response at this link: http://kxhara.deviantart.com/journal/... ).

Truth is, our society has a warped idea of what is acceptable in the way of female body image. It’s unrealistic and most often unhealthy. Genre fiction, sadly, has tended to support these unrealistic ideals in the past. “It’s necessary for the fantasy,” you’ll hear. “It’s what they fans want,” you’ll also hear. “Heroes are supposed to be more than human – they’re supposed to be perfect,” is a common quote.

That might be your perspective, but it definitely isn’t mine, and I know for a fact I’m not the only one who feels that way. There is a sizable market of people looking for diversity in genre heroes and those who insist on supporting the supermodel/playboy bunny stereotype for heroines are definitely losing out on that market.

I understand that there is a visual element to comic books, but not every man finds a beach-ball bosomed, wasp-waisted woman attractive, and many women find those unnatural forms and silly comic book poses somewhat repulsive. I think there should be more effort to counter these market standards and demand something truer to life. I have found that with written genre fiction, the more mature fiction and not the trendy paranormal romance that holds to societal ideals, there has been an increase in character realism and presentation of varying body images. Not, however, without a fight.

At Hal-Con 2011, I had a discussion with Kelley Armstrong where she described how she had to stand her ground to keep one of her lead male characters described the way he was, rather than converting him to the industry expected teenage-heart throb. He turned out to be one of her most beloved characters with her readers, but only because she trusted her gut instead of towing the industry line. Realism is endearing. It is actually difficult to properly connect with a character who doesn’t have flaws, because the rest of us have them. Imperfection allows for empathy, or sympathy – depending on the circumstances.

Kelley’s not alone in fighting to present realistic characters. According to my husband, the book "The Moon Maze Game" by Larry Niven and Steven Barnes (2011) features some very strong female characters, at least one of which is a "heavy" woman. And I have certainly read other well-written genre books with similar protagonists or supporting characters.

So changes are happening, at least on the written front, and I’m hoping to be part of that change. I have multiple characters who are described as overweight, several in my Masters & Renegades series, including Reeree, Burrell and at one point, Dee, and Mallory, a Fixer in my Fervor series, who makes her first appearance in Elevation.

In my yet to be published works, there is Kerza, my heroic witch from Sleep Escapes Us: “While Alina would not have necessarily described the girl as plain, she certainly wouldn’t have declared her beautiful either. She was fleshy in an unpleasant way, not voluptuous or zaftig. Her skin was so pale it almost glowed in the shadowy tunnels, her shaggy dark hair was a tangled mess that hung over her face, and she moved as lifelessly as one of the undead on the surface.” Far from the societal ideal, and while she cleans up a little as the story goes, she remains overweight for the duration of the tale.

There’s also my female protagonist in Intangible: “Silvana had tried. She had searched diligently for a job that would cover all of her expenses, but she was an unschooled teenager who looked strange, her auburn hair streaked with oranges and greens, her nose and brow pierced, overweight and wearing clothing that certainly didn’t match the latest trends.”

And don’t assume that because they are fat and not the “standard beauty” that these ladies exist simply as comic relief – “fat foils.” They are prominent active characters who are heroic and self-sacrificing. They also have romantic liaisons with men who are sincere, appreciative and respectful.

My point is, it is up to future writers and artists to demand such changes, by pushing boundaries and voicing our objections to ridiculous unrealistic standards. Wake up world. It’s time that genre fiction, comic books and graphic novels included, got real.

Okay, I admit it...I’m totally addicted to the show Breaking Bad. Truth is, I have a fascination with good guys who, as a result of extreme duress, do things that would have been otherwise unthinkable to them under normal circumstances. I also find myself revisiting the notion of bad guys, be they bullies, thieves or even murderers, proving to be not so bad after all, maybe even doing something altruistic or heroic despite a shady and/or despicable past. People rarely land on one end of the ethical/moral spectrum or the other. The good guy may have at one point cheated on a test, or fudged his taxes. He may be willing to lie or get violent for the right reasons. Just because he or she usually is well-behaved, doesn’t mean they always were, or always will be.

Bad guys can be equally gray. I’m reminded of an episode of Legend of the Seeker where Richard, in disguise, accompanies one of the enemy home to his family. The man, it turns out, is not evil to the core. He does things he doesn’t like doing for the sake of his job, his sense of duty and his need to provide for his family proving to be stronger than his sense of right and wrong. But he does have a family, and he loves that family. After seeing the soldier interact with his wife and children, Richard finds himself struggling with the fact that he then has to betray the man.

Furthermore, there is something essentially rewarding about a villain who has chosen to cast off bad for the sake of redemption. It suggests that all is not lost for those who have strayed from the proper path. Maybe they had been tainted by bad influences, but are willing to change once they realize the error of their ways. Maybe they were misunderstood, choosing an inappropriate way to express fear, pain or insecurities, and are uncovering a better way to cope. Granted, those characters usually end up dead, as other people are not likely to accept their new outlook on life and once the character has achieved redemption, there is no place left for them in the story. On the other hand, sometimes they manage to carve a new place for themselves despite the distrust and displeasure of others.

One of the most difficult bad-good characters I’ve ever tackled has been the character of Royce in my Fervor series. I’m working on the fourth book in the series, Providence, right now, and he is proving as trying as ever. He started off a bully in Fervor, gradually cast off by those who were supposed to be working with him, and after sinking as low as he thought possible, he set aside his pride and begged them for help. When he seemed to be mellowing and turning a new leaf, he reacted to a stressful situation with a shocking act of violence, destroying most of the new-found trust he had established. Eventually, he does end up an ally to the heroes of the series, after suffering for past wrong-doings as well as breaking a little in response to a cruel twist of fate, but their alliance remains a tenuous one. While he behaves heroically and has the odd occasion of self-sacrifice, he remains brash, impulsive and bitter. He exists as a constant dichotomy: both a bad guy you love to hate and a good guy you hate to love (but still do) at the same time.

As challenging as this type of character can be, having to weigh the rare good deed with reminders of the bad things he has done and still thinks about doing, they also add the most excitement to the writing experience for me. While other characters are more predictable, Royce will turn on a dime, shielding his cohorts from harm one moment and taunting or bad-mouthing them the next. With him, the negative aspect of his personality extends beyond just a response to environment, and is inherent to his genetic make-up. This means he’ll never completely change, nor will the others completely understand him.

While some good characters might “break bad” and some bad characters might have an instance of enlightenment and transformation, Royce has evolved to be bent both ways – and to me...that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I only hope he never bends so far that he actually does break.