Chantal Boudreau's Blog, page 40

My To-Do Bucket Is too Full

I’m kind of surprised I’m writing a blog post because this is the time of year that I’m so busy my brain turns to goo and I stumble around bleary-eyed with a dazed look on my face. One might even mistake me for a zombie. In my mundane life, over-time hours and summertime family demands stretch me a little farther than I normally have to go. I have a garden to tend to and kids who want to go to the lake or to the beach. We also just adopted a new pet, and I’m adapting to adding him, a beagle named Sparky, into my regular schedule

And that’s just the ordinary stuff.

I hate turning down opportunities associated with my writing, and lately they just seem to be multiplying. Aside from working (very slowly) on my latest Fervor novel, Providence, several short story projects and my blog (which includes book reviews), I now have obligations from joining a fantasy writer’s collective, commitments to narrate for a podcast, illustrations I ought to be working on for Transcendence and a variety of promotional efforts. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel – with vacation time coming up in a week. I will have several home maintenance projects to deal with, and probably a few family day trips, but otherwise my time will be freed up to clean up loose ends and get some rest.

I suppose I could say “no” more often, but “yes” had brought me quite a bit of satisfaction, including an anthology acceptance I was really hoping for (they had more than 200 submissions,) and the opportunity to narrate for one of Star Ship Sofa’s affiliates, something that thrills me to bits. I even got to discuss the promotion of this year’s Wicked Women’s Writers podcast competition with one of my podcast idols, the FDO himself, Scott Sigler.

Speaking of which, I’m going to take this opportunity to plug that competition myself. The chance to listen to the wonderful tales written and narrated by some very talented wicked women is almost upon us. The competition goes live at horroraddicts.net on August 11 – be sure to drop in, listen and vote.

Anyway – I’ll cut this short and go back to wallowing in my fog. See you in a week, when I’ll likely be even more like a zombie, and my bucket will be overflowing.

The Necessity of Personal Investment

I hope nobody reads the title of this and thinks this post is about socking away cash for a rainy day. What I will be talking about has little to do with money, unless you are thinking of a potential story sale. Instead, I’m referring to finding a way of putting something of myself and my own experiences into the tale, rather than just writing a beginning, a denouement and an end, with some element of conflict and resolution.

This is another challenge to writing a good story, and not one I’ve always managed to achieve. I usually find when I get struck by some internal inspiration and write to it, the resulting story is better than one where I’m writing in response to a particular request for submissions. I feel it is much harder to create in response to a particular demand rather than one that plays off of my own whims. I think this is because those from inspiration are already seeded with something personal, whereas I have to find some way of integrating that element into the stories on demand, and it doesn’t always work.

Just to give you an example, several of the last few stories I wrote were on demand, and I just received a rejection back for one of them, from a publisher who usually loves my work (the wonderful folk at MDP). The story was intended for their Spiders anthology and I wrote to the theme, but I don’t think it was some of my best work, which explains the rejection.

The biggest problem is that I just don’t find spiders scary – never have. I don’t find snakes scary either, even though I know there are venomous snakes and spiders out there. There aren’t any in Nova Scotia (not native to the province, anyway) which likely explains part of the lack of fear. I was also raised by a woman who happily handled spiders and snakes in front of me (thanks, Mom), and I think that supported the idea that they weren’t to be feared.

I was all too aware that I couldn’t create a convincing scary spider tale with the main character fearing spiders. It would have come across as campy and insincere. Instead, I tried to approach the horror of the story from a more clinical perceptive, laced with some research into interesting phobia and arachnid facts, the main character experimenting with someone else’s fears. The tale comes across as kind of cruel and cold, I guess, versus scary and while it was somewhat effective, it was missing that touch of personal investment I try to build into my stories. I’m sure that’s why it missed the mark.

Some people may notice that a fair number of my horror stories have some common themes, like bullying and isolation, and that’s likely because they play off of my own personal fears. It’s a great way of seizing on something I can relate to properly, and establishing that sense of catharsis. The more I have to move away from them to match a theme, the less successful the results.

Anyway, to sum it up, I’m not about to stop writing to themes, but what I have learned from this is that I should reconsider any story ideas I have that just don’t seem to offer any personal investment. If I can’t find the scary in it for me, it isn’t likely to do much for the reader, either.

A Weighty Issue

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.

Fate, Destiny or Coincidence

When I look back at my life, I have to wonder what made me turn out the way I am... weird and creative with a flair for numbers. You could say that it’s in my blood; I have some pretty impressive ancestors and I suppose that’s where nature would apply. There are spectacular works of art from the hands and visionary thinking of my great-great-great-grandfather. My grand-mother was a fabulous story-teller; as a child I would beg for her bedtime stories. She also loved numbers, solving the Rubic’s cube mathematically, with only a high school education. My grandfather was a talented wood sculptor and painter. My mother paints striking pictures and my father has oodles of musical skill as well as being a pretty good artist – nurture might also apply here as well, growing up with their influence. But I’m not just talking nature versus nurture. My own story is a little more interesting than that.

I chose this topic because today is Friday the 13th, and if I were superstitious, I would have considered myself doomed from the start, being born on that day of the week/month in August of 1971. I was 9 days late, and the nurses teased my mother because of the day. We also talk often about the strange time/date of my daughter’s birth, since she was born 9 hours and 9 minutes late, at 9:09 am on the 9th day of September, the 9th month. Just in time, I might add for me to be watching horrific scenes on the TVs we passed on the way out of the hospital two days later, September 11, 2001. Is all of this just freaky coincidence, or perhaps a cosmic joke? I often wonder if the author of my story threw in these things as symbolism, trying to communicate with me directly, like Vonnegut did with the characters in his books, or the novelist did with her protagonist in “Stranger than Fiction”.

To make matters worse, I seemed jinxed growing up, barely surviving a series of calamities that ranged from being hit by a car (I should be dead, or crippled, or brain damaged, but I’m not,) to falling down stairs on multiple occasions, to even getting stuck in a clay-based quicksand (okay, maybe more of a slow-sand...I was waist deep when I was rescued). I somehow made it to adulthood, mostly in one piece, which makes me wonder if all this was just part of my fate, to make sure I lived an exhaustingly interesting life. It definitely makes for more interesting stories.

I was also a weirdness magnet, and still am one today (ask my friends, family and co-workers – it’s true.) If something strange is going to happen to someone in my inner circles, and strange things do happen on a regular occasion, it’s going to happen to me. For example, the first call I received as a phone customer service rep, fresh off of training, was from a man stoned out of his gourd and barely coherent, and I actually dealt with a client once whose file was complicated by the fact that he had run off and joined a circus in his earlier years. I could tell you a million more like this – more than this blog posting could support. They are all the type of trials in life where you smack your forehead and lament “Why me?”

Add to that the fact that many events point to the notion that I have “karmic luck” – a term I coined in my short story “Weighing Fate,” where for every good luck occurrence, I seem to experience an equivalent bad luck one, and vise versa. It indubitably seems like there may be some truth to the Friday the 13th superstition. For example, my first foot in the door towards a real job came because I had slipped and split my knee open (in front of a church where a few days before I had given a bus ticket to an elderly woman who had lost her bus fare, even though I was really hurting for money at the time.) Because of that slip and fall, I missed a wedding I was scheduled to go to. And because I missed the wedding, I was home to get the call in to work on Monday. The temp agency would have skipped over me and called someone else if I hadn’t been home. My second big job break came on a day where my mother had called to tell me our family dog, 17 years-old, had just died. I shudder to think what would happen if I ever really strike it big.

So can all this weirdness be attributed to the fact that I was born on a Friday the 13th? Is it fate, destiny or just coincidence? I doubt I’ll ever know, but contemplating the concept has led to some pretty unusual stories, so I guess I can’t complain.

"May you live in interesting times." (often referred to as the Chinese curse)

The Importance of Community

Writing is one of those endeavours that has oddly conflicting requirements. You need to be a reasonably solitary type or it will be difficult to spend hours poring over paper or computer screen, typically in isolation – in mind, anyway, if not in body. And it’s not just the writing that keeps you somewhat segregated from others. Research, editing, preparing submissions and prepping promotional materials are often things we do all alone. If you have a burning need to socialize regularly, it may not be the thing for you.

On the other hand, unless you are the type who can do “everything” without any input or feedback required from anyone else, you also have to seek out a community to support you in your efforts. Not such an easy thing to do for an introvert. Social networking has made this easier, with face-to-face meetings often not required, and providing a global means of assembling your community.

I’m very fortunate to have a great community where I work as an accountant. We work cooperatively, supporting one another’s efforts. We look out for one another when things aren’t going our way, in and outside the office. This allows us to keep our morale up and remain productive even in the face of some pretty serious obstacles. It’s rare to find a workplace with that kind of environment, where you are more than just someone to crunch numbers, meet deadlines and amass data, and are valued for your strengths beyond the basic requirements of the job.

A good writing community works the same way. For one, it helps to surround yourself with people who are receptive and encouraging. It can really help you open up and move beyond the solitary writer lifestyle. Secondly, sharing is extremely important. You have to look for like-minded individuals who are willing to allow for compromises if you encounter differences of opinion, but at the same time, having cohorts whose skills and talents complement your own is essential, so some diversity is important. This also means you have to be willing to give as well as receive; in a community, it is never all about you. Lastly, flexibility is a must. You have to be willing to take reasonable risks and try new things, with the understanding that some of them will fail. This requires a certain amount of trust and allowing yourself to be vulnerable – another thing introverts are often unwilling to do.

I’ve ventured into several writing communities, from Facebook writer groups, to working with certain publishers and the writers they’ve published, cover artists, editors, etc., to writer collectives outside of the social networking platforms, like The Guild of Dreams. Some have been delightfully successful, some abysmal failures, some were good at first but gradually changed to something that didn’t work for me and some I’m still testing, but the point is, I’ve gained useful experience from all of them, even the less successful ones, and grown in some way. There were definite benefits involved.

So remember, don’t let introversion get in the way when you are provided an opportunity to join a writer community. At least take the time to see what it may have to offer, what you could contribute and if you would find a good fit with the others involved. You may make some lifelong friends and find solutions to some of your most frustrating problems.

Breaking the Double Standard

Some friends and I were discussing the concept of writers writing characters of the opposite gender and how effective and realistic these attempts can be. I honestly think gender has nothing to do with your ability to create a believable character. I mentioned in our conversation that I thought a poor portrayal of characters of the opposite sex did not reflect on the writer’s abilities based on gender, but just on their skills as a writer in general. Part of being a good writer is observing other people and trying to look at things from their perspective as you develop your characters – otherwise every character you create would just be another version of you, or a very one-dimensional arch-type, and that doesn’t make for good story-telling. The best writers can move seamlessly from complex character to complex character, no matter what their differences.

Admittedly, some writers do present the other gender in their stories without trying to gain some understanding of what it means to be a man if you are a woman, or to be a woman if you are man. That’s why you’ll come across carbon copy heroes who are physically strong, dashing, stoic, and confident, and carbon copy female characters who are loving and sweet but always in need of a rescue. Either these writers don’t attempt to do the story justice and offer an original character with a complex personality, perhaps out of fear of getting it wrong and being critiqued for it, or they are too lazy to try. I personally feel that the books with these types of characters come across as trite and formulaic.

I’m a strong believer that the hero or heroine of a tale should demonstrate some form of flaw, not super-human perfection, and more complexity than the arch-type norm, or they just aren’t being portrayed realistically. When it comes to the development of male and female characters, I have noticed that there is one “flaw” that is usually deemed acceptable in a hero, but often shunned in a heroine, and that “flaw” is promiscuity (not everyone considers it a bad thing, but it is frowned upon socially). The double standard in life carries over into literature, and while a male character who is promiscuous will be viewed in a mostly positive light, despite the fact that the character is a “player”, a “womanizer” or a “horndog” – lightly negative terms - a female character with the same trait is rarely cast as a heroine. The “slut”, “temptress” or “man-eater”, much more negative connotations here, more often is positioned as a villain in the tale.

I’ve tried to break the double standard, by presenting a couple of different heroines in my stories who are promiscuous, but I do find I meet with critique from those who support the notion that a promiscuous heroine is not a real heroine. Nia, from Magic University, has met with a lot of adversity in her life, including what many would consider an unfair exile from her people, loss of family, struggles with poverty and choosing a suitable career in an alien culture, and finding love in a world where she is very different from the people around her. She doesn’t always cope with her troubles in the most appropriate way, choosing brief affairs with men to make her feel better about herself and to fill some of those gaps in her life temporarily, but that shouldn’t make her any less of a heroine. She has moments in the story where she takes a stand and shows her integrity, and in later books in the series, she goes on to place herself at risk and make sacrifices for the sake of others, the mark of a real hero.

I refuse to tone down her impulsive nature for the sake of appeasing some people’s sensibilities. I have heroines who are alcoholics, who are outlaws and who have fractured psyches, as well. It’s their flaws and how they manage despite them that make them interesting.

A second heroine, in my yet to be published Elements of Genocide, Andreyelle, is also promiscuous, but she comes from a culture where promiscuity is acceptable, if not encouraged. She does not, however, derive much satisfaction from her brief and shallow interactions, and is searching for something more fulfilling. That doesn’t change the fact that she doesn’t see that kind of behaviour as harmful in anyway, and one of the other characters who scorns her for her liberal ways eventually learns something from her that helps him to grow.

I even have examples where I’ve challenged the double standard in some of my shorter works, like my female pirate, Adrianna Perla, from “Cat and Mouse,” who has no qualms about following her libido.

I guess my point is that while you will find a variety of Don Juans and Casanovas in fiction, I think writers have been neglectful of the female equivalent, most likely because of the social double standard. But that doesn’t mean that can’t be changed. I encourage other writers, male and female alike, to break that double standard. It can make for a very interesting read.

Why I Do What I Do

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.

Hard-Knocks and Pep Talks

I often have my Friday blog posting planned ahead of time, but I’ve been over-run with answering interview questions and hunting out proofreaders this week, so I arrive at this point with nothing prepared. This, after a bit of a blow-out today. I was reporting to my husband about a nasty review that had more than just stung, when he suggested I write about reviews, unfair or otherwise, for my posting.

“I don’t want to write anything negative,” I said. And writing about reviews today would bring that out, even though my mood has improved since. I told him I wanted to write something positive. I try to write about positive things in my blog postings, and most of the time, it works.

So perhaps I’ll focus on all of the great support I was provided today, from writer friends, from reader friends, from older friends, and from family.

This isn’t an easy industry and none of us are without our flaws. I’m trying to learn what I can, but I make mistakes, and I always will even once I have practice and experience from years of effort. And I’ll always have doubts. Even well-established writers experience doubts, not every “professional” you meet along the road is nice or even civil, and there are more potential pitfalls than you can imagine, at least until you’re in neck deep. You have to research agents, publishers, editors, because there are sharks out there amongst the legitimate professionals, anticipating the chance to prey on unwary souls. Even just friendly networking can have its downside - other writers will bicker with you over petty little stylistic details, and try to assert that their method of doing things is the “only” right way.

Trying to find your way through this crazy mess can seem incredibly lonely, but sometimes a nasty jolt, or the realization that you can’t escape vulnerability to others’ whims, will make you see that you’re actually not alone at all.

I’ve had an absolutely amazing amount of support since I started writing – sometimes from people I could have never pictured believing in me, and other times from near strangers who have eventually become very good friends. My husband has always been a rock for me. My co-workers have rooted for me the entire way, even those that aren’t particularly inclined towards what I write. I’ve had test-readers offer me great testimonials, editors offer me constructive criticism and positive feedback in their thoughtful rejection letters, and fellow writers promote my work without any prompting on my part. The pep talk I got today from a writer I greatly admire definitely lifted me out of my funk. I hope everyone knows how much their kind words and encouragement matters.

I try to give back, and I really want to do my share of supporting the writers around me. I write reviews, primarily positive ones, and I do what I can to help. I’ve test-read, edited, proofread, interviewed and just made sure people were well aware of the books I really enjoyed, so that hopefully word of mouth would boost others interest. I recently poured everything I truly felt into a testimonial for a writer friend, and based on his response, it really touched him.

The bickering? I try to just steer clear of it, because on the odd day I get sucked in I tend to get irked and with that comes the likelihood that I will tread on someone’s toes. I tend to be fairly opinionated about some of the hot topics too, and honestly, as much as I want to debate and share with others for growth’s sake, there are some areas where I’m better off keeping my mouth shut, and just knowing I agree to disagree. This shouldn’t be a war – it should be a celebration of our differences.

So the next time you’re impressed with something a writer has produced – let them, and others, know. Maybe your support just might help get them past the next pitfall.

I Like to Kill People...

…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.

Where Did the Hope Go?

Or… Why I Embrace the Dystopian Novel

I’ve had the good fortune this week of being presented with a special opportunity – I volunteered to proofread a dystopian novel by Frank Herbert, called High-Opp, from Wordfire Press: http://www.amazon.com/High-Opp-ebook/... . So far, 40+ pages into the proofread, I’m really enjoying the story. It revolves around class warfare, an attempt to standardize lifestyles and ways of thinking, stamping out individualism, and the notion of governing society on the basis of surveying public opinion. As is typical with most dystopian societies, it’s the result of an attempted utopia gone wrong; the idealism didn’t translate into reality. In this case, there are too many ways the baser nature of humankind, the desire for status and wealth and the transferral of these things to our children, corrupt the processes involved in putting theory into practice. That, and the idea that an “average” is preferable, that general opinion knows best, is flawed to begin with.

Considering when the story was written, I was surprised how relevant it is to modern day circumstances, and how the Separatists in the novel are reminiscent of the current Occupy protestors. This is a notably disturbing story, with very grim undertones and oodles of social commentary, both common traits of dystopian novels. These characteristics are also partially why I love dystopian tales as much as I do, and the reason why I started my own dystopian series, beginning with Fervor (http://www.amazon.com/Fervor-ebook/dp... ).
But there was a brief time in my life where I preferred happier tales and looked for utopian books instead. I wanted to read stories that supported my optimism.

If I had to approximate, I’d say that this “head-in-the-clouds” period lasted from the time just before I turned 15 to about the time I started university, newly turned 18. I was a proper dreamer then, an extreme idealist, believing in promise for my own future and greater hope for the world as a whole. I was aware that there was strife, war, injustices, cruelty – but trusted that these things could conceivably be rectified. I loved the optimism of Roddenberry and lived for books like The Kin of Ata Are Waiting for You by Dorothy Bryant. I lost that somewhere along the way, when life hit me like a sledgehammer. Once I made my way into the unsheltered real world, it slammed me with cold hard reality, beating me down and tamping down my dreams. Suddenly dystopian novels made a lot more sense. They appealed to me then because I trusted their message more than I did those of the more optimistic books. Life had let me down…hard. And perhaps I was to blame, for being so hopeful in the first place.

I stopped reading utopian books at that time, and I haven’t read them since. They seem too fragile and unrealistic to me now, based on the concept that everyone would give over to whatever ideal is at the centre of that society. I know by now that this just doesn’t happen.

And where did the hope go? It’s not dead. It is still there, but it is hidden beneath disappointment, despair and other forms of negativity – sort of like Pandora’s Box. I still believe in heroes, in struggling for the greater good, in striving for your dreams even if the likelihood of reaching them isn’t all that great. I’m just wary now about the darker side of things, the inescapable darker side that will always make that struggle necessary. That buried hope? – It’s why, while I embrace dystopian novels, I keep looking for the ones that despite their grim outlook, still have a glimmer of hope suggested to the very end, a hint of the bittersweet that says “all is not lost.”