I will admit that I try and write catch phrases, although they are more of a secondary to me.  Truth is, people in real life have sayings they live by, be it Murphy’s Law for most engineers, or The Golden Rule for elementary school teachers (which I must admit, I still am not 100% sure what that is).  Heck, even I have a few one-liners I like to throw out from time to time.  So why shouldn’t a character have a credo or zinger they like.

The trick I’ve found when trying to write these is to let them come naturally.  If it is one thing that will kill the phrase fast, it is being thrown out because of a contrived situation.  Characters need to find themselves as you write them, in my opinion, and to decide when doing the initially pre-writing brainstorming that Character X is going to say Y a lot is a good way to make Y a pain.  Cause then you are thinking of how to make Y useable, and it breaks the other characters around Character X as authorial fait takes over to force the catch phrase.

But did the best phrases come that way?  Well, without interviewing a buttload of authors, I can’t say one way or the other, but I’m going to be almost all of the “super-memorable” kickers were accidents or natural growths out of the characters (that they didn’t get looked at by a doc? *rimshot!*).

So, if you are writing, my advise to you: don’t worry about the catch phrases.  They will come on their own, but do look for them.   If a character says something quotable in the natural creation of a dialogue, don’t be afraid to have them repeat it later.  I have found that trying to make characters say things in new ways all the time actually loses their voices.  A little repetition is actually very natural, so run with it.  And that is about all I have to say about that.

There are instants where it actually isn’t all that bad, but in those cases, it typically isn’t called by this term either.  Things such as random dumb luck, a single coincidence (authors are usually allowed one before they get called on being too convenient), or the laws of physics bending but being explained on the why of it.  But, those aren’t what I’m here to talk about.

No, I’m here to talk about the bad.  About the Terry Goodkind lobotomizing his characters so he can write his “philosophical treatise with fantastical elements” or even Tolkien completely ignoring the Eagles as a means of getting the Ring to Mordor.

The typical worst instance of A.F. is when a character forgets who and what they are and makes a decision that is a really sucky decision for no reason at all.  Sometimes these are supposed to be covered up by “gut feelings” and “hunches”, but really, they are thinly veiled attempts of the author writing themselves out of a corner.  And it usually comes down to a bad effort at plotting.  Either the characters are to smart and need to be occasionally dumbed down for the badies to even pose a threat (such as the characters forgetting things they saw or heard only moments before), or the good guys are just out matched and out gunned and need to have dumb luck or random strokes of Idiot Savant-hood.  Yeah, really kills the story for me.

Slightly less horrible is when a random unrelated event conveniently changes the course of the plot.  A person was thrown off their horse and died (looking at you GRR Martin), or a meteor crashes and kills someone, or the peasants who had been off screen and apparently unreliable did manage to show up and save the day.  It is just about as bad as when a Dungeon Master gets angry at their players and has them all be eaten by a dragon.  Not that I play AD&D or anything . . . nope.  Not me. (really, not me.)

So . . . oh heck.  I don’t even know where I was going with this.  Authorial Fait bad! Fire good!  Plotting and character balancing good!  Random meteors bad!  That is all.

So, spoilers.  OK, in season two of Lost, which I just now finished, they kill three, count them, three romantic interests.  One was a major character, one was a semi-major character, and one had the promise in the episode before she died that she would be a major character.

First death, I appreciated the drama.  It made sense; it built to the tension and the plot, and was on the whole a good thing.  Second and Third deaths happen in the same episodes, and by the gods, it made me hate the character who killed them, and not as a “person” but as a “bad character.”  I can’t fully mesh the back-story of the character to the way he is acting presently.  Of course, I guess the beauty of lost is they can kinda retcon things as needed with a new flashback.

But, furthermore, the second and third slayings were very foreseeable.  Not foreshadowed mind, no, you can tell from the way the scene plays out that it is supposed to be a complete and utter surprise to the audience.  The only surprise I had was “really, actually did that?”  In a show that has so far been good about making you think one thing might happen then throw a curveball the other way, well, it was odd.  I’m guessing that some people will disagree with me, but it thing about it in retrospect.  Two super major characters get romantically involved in a show that has thus far killed off the only girl to have sex on the island on screen.  Granted, the third slaying didn’t, but it was just as miraculous considering who she was falling for.  You then kill them again as a cliff hanger to the episode, just like you did not even half a season earlier.  Overplayed, and the result was not me being freaked out, but instead let down.

Now, I grouse, but I’ll still finish Lost.  Although, more and more, it is becoming a quest of “literary analysis” than a question of being drawn in.  More thoughts as I get to them (with a big one on authorial fait coming soon to a Fife-mart near you.)

Oh, one last thing.  Another thing that irks me about this trope, such as it is, is the cheapness of it.  Need to send your hero on a killing spree?  Kill his beloved, chop her up, and leave her in the freezer for him to find.  And why—WHY!?—is it always the girl that dies?  I’ll tell you why.  Because those goram stereotypical gender roles say the woman is weaker and her death will make the hero feel not only enraged, but a failure.  A failure for his inability to protect what he loves.  It’s like using swearing in Improv.  Sure, you might be able to get a quick laugh out of it, but in the end, it is just bad humor.  Killing a romantic interest makes sense if it makes sense in the story.  If it is just to spice up the drama, well, you failed.

I’m going to stop ranting now.  See ya Tuesday.

I think a large part of it is truly antagonism.  The man had a special hatred in his heart of the secessionist states, not that he really liked much of anyone.  On the same note, he did not really or honestly hold a grudge, even against South Carolina, which he did the most harm to during his campaigns.  In his writing, he even would say that he would gladly fight and die for the South, so long as it was in the name of the unified United States.  This was a man who saw no incongruence with yesterday’s vile enemy being tomorrow’s dear ally.

Not that a generational resident of Atlanta would say that, let alone Georgia or South Carolina.  While honestly, a good part of Northerner’s would be hit or miss on who Sherman was (and perhaps even lucky to recognize Grant), these names are immortalized in the South.  The antagonism of Sherman has survived generations, and in honest truth, his actions probably helped to ferment the Southern-Northern hatred (even though the carpetbagging and other “reconstructionist” doctrines decidedly helped as well.)  Never mind that Sherman actually did what he did to try and end the war quickly, much like when Truman dropped the bombs in Japan.  Never mind that he then offered very generous conditions of surrender to enemy forces that were only later refuted by Andrew Johnson (perhaps for good reason, perhaps not).  Never mind that the most gregarious of his “war crimes”, namely the burning of Atlanta and Columbia, were likely accidents or caused by the general confusion of war.  Some primary sources even note that Sherman himself was helping to fight the fires that burned in Columbia (although in another source one of Sherman’s officers more or less admitted that Union forces started the fires).

So, what the heck am I getting at?  Honestly, it isn’t a defense of Sherman, although I think he gets a wee bit of a bad wrap (not that he doesn’t deserve some of it).  No, it is writing, always.  Antagonism.  It is an awesome motivator.  I used to think that the hatred caused by a societal memory could not actually be good motivator, but since moving to the South, I can see how it could be.  Maybe not in a “level-headed” person, but added to some other traits such as upbringing and a strong sense of society, well, yeah.  A general hatred of a person just because of where they are from and what that represents is indeed a very strong motivation.  But, my former ignorance is also an enlightenment.

Many people don’t actually suffer this preconception, or if they do, it isn’t in a fashion that they can understand and relate to the page.  If you wish to use this as a motivator for a main character, you had best be sure to explain it in understandable terms.  Although, can I truly feel and understand the ire the South has for Sherman, even with it being a real thing that I can live in?  No, not really.  I have a historical bias that I am from the Midwest, and we don’t really have any inbred animosity like that.  What will tomorrow’s animosity be, though?  I am worried that my children will grow up to despise all Arabs simply because what one radical sect of Jihadists did, but I do have hope for them on the racism and sexism front, at least.  But, I wonder, do a people always have to have an enemy?  Must there always be a them for there to be an us?  Hmm . . . .  I’ll write on that later.

So, short of the skivvy.  Don’t assume your readers can understand a bone-deep non-personal antagonism easily.  Play it up too much, and it honestly comes off as being one-dimensional.  But, small mannerisms, offhand comments, and even straws that break camels’ backs are a perfect use for it.  And as long as there is something else to a character besides that, perhaps a small bit of depth where they can see humanity in their blood-enemy, but are still distrustful, well, it helps.

But . . . the need for enemies.  I think that will be Friday.

I’ll focus on Avatar, which is funny ‘cause I haven’t seen it.  I almost want to just to look for all the messages within, but it can be boiled down to a quick summary.  Hero’s world wants to invade Native’s world.  Hero becomes a native as a spy, ends up turning completely native, fights off uncompassionate home world.  This story has been done so much that it’s even a Disney movie.  Now, what was the creator of this particular story trying to say?  I’ve heard no less than three explanations.

1) It is a direct re-creation of the Last of the Mohicans/Dances with Wolves story, where the aliens are native Americans and the humans are the “The White Man.”
2) It is an anti-technology piece about the price of expansionist industrialism and the loss simpler, more holistic morality.  Of course nature wins of the industrialists because is more pure.
3) It is a war between Sci-Fi and Fantasy, and Fantasy wins because it is more appealing and hopeful where Sci-Fi is typically grim and pessimistic.

So, what did James Cameron want?  Honestly, I think he just wanted an awesome looking movie.  So how did all these other levels and messages get in?  Because he didn’t even think about them.  It is kind of like my earlier comments on racist stereotypes.  To make an Asian use a katana just because they are Asian is imbedding meanings you never meant to put there.  And just because you didn’t “mean it” doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Now, I’m going to go right and say that this irks me on two levels.  The first is that people can’t just accept that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, the second is that apparently I can’t either.  Why do authors (until recently because of super-awareness of the issue) typically write heroes of the same race, religion (or level of conviction), and gender as themselves?  Are we trying to say that white agnostic men (in my case) are the superior hero and neener-neener to anyone else?  No, not really.  We are just following the pre-coded paths in our thought process where we don’t even think about “what would the effect be if the protagonist was a woman, or a minority, or a different religion, etc.”  Again, this is changing, even in myself.  I have written a minority hero (at least in his world), and I have written religious heroes and heroines.  But I always have to think about it.  The default settings are what they are, just like in a video game, and if I’m lazy, I will use them.  And that, unfortunately, can be an endorsement of them.

A friend of mine commented that race is a myth, an imaginary thing made up for various reasons.  He may be right, but racism is hardly a myth, even if what it focuses on is, and it extends into everything.  I’m not going to say writing a “minority” piece is going to make something instantly good fiction, or something that is riddled with “lazy stereotypes” is instantly bad, but I do think in general at least a little thought needs to be put into realizing exactly what trope you are using, and if you really want (or care) if that message is carried through along with anything else.  A neglect to can make your entire story completely off base.  As a closing example, The Jungle by Upton Sinclair, which created a public outcry over the quality of meat and food in processing plants, was supposed to make people angry over the treatment of immigrants.  It caused the FDA to be made, but immigrants were still treated like mud.  Funny, ne?

Wednesday, on the day before Christmas Eve, I attended a Festivus party (for the rest of us!).  For those unfamiliar with Festivus, it was an invention of the father of a writer for Seinfeld and made itself into an episode of the show.  The traditions are simple, with the entire explanation fitting on side of a piece of paper.  That aside, it was a fun excuse for a party.  Of course, a keg of beer and winter in general are good reasons for parties, but, well, yeah.

Other traditions have jumped off pages.  From the wonderful charity work of TarValon.net, with their Novices, Accepted, and Aes Sedai, to fictional swears and catechisms.  Heavens know that I say Gorram a lot since watching Firefly, and a goodly number of people use Frack of BSG fame.  There are people out there that will even have weddings themed on a book’s traditions.  Wowza!

But, what makes the tradition jump off the page like that?  Some of the great stories have very little off-page life, while some middling but still known stories have far more popularity.  Well, honestly, I have no clue cause I’m not a Humanities-type scientist, but I will say that I think it more has to do with the symbolism of the tradition or the ease of employing it.  For swearing, Gorram and Frack roll off the tongue easy.  For a Wheel of Time wedding, well, the costuming described is actually pretty awesome and the deeper meaning that was implied in the few marriage ceremonies we saw in the book were extremely heartfelt.

And to Festivus?  Well, it was simple, and the meaning was, while silly, strong.  It was a “secular holiday” (a wonderful oxymoron, in truth).  An acknowledgement that you don’t have to believe in invisible sky-people to still want to have some cheer in the dreary cold of winter, which, in my opinion, is what the midwinter celebrations are all about.  So, put up an aluminum pole and air some grievances!

And to the rest of you, a Merry holiday season.

Now, granted, a work of fiction is, in and of itself, just one big fib.  But sometimes it works to have the characters lie to each other, or even themselves.  But, just as in real life, where lies add extra levels of complexity to what is almost always already a complex situation, so is it in writing.  Before you know it, you will have the plot depending on internal lies more than anything else, and then it is going to be a painful, tangled mess when, at the end, you have to explain “whodunit” without being boring and more or less retelling the entire story again.

There is also the issue of plot simplicity.  Yes, a lie here or a lie there can add a nice twist, but in real life, people have a habit of lying through their teeth once they get started, and if you do that in a story, well, see the first point I made above.  It can also be annoying to the reader, depending on how much the character lives the lie, without an adequate amount of foreshadowing and subtle hints in actions and words to indicate the lie.

The last thing with lies is to make sure they aren’t really far out there, or immediately contradicted, and have the person being lied to completely miss it.  While maybe this can work for a character who is just that dumb, but seriously, if it is more than a spear carrier, don’t do it.  It just makes me want to tear my hair out.

Oh, and on the real life lying thing: yes I know how, but I despise myself when I even lie by staying quite or omission, let alone full up falsehoods.  What grinds my gears the most, though, is when I’m lied to, especially for no reason at all.

And no, I haven’t been lied to (that I can confirm) recently, just had a random twitch make me want to write this.  So nyah.  Happy Holidays and all that.

See, the fog hides what you already know is there, but does it hide more?  I feel a small rush whenever I’m driving and can’t see more than a hundred feet ahead of my car.  I don’t expect anything to be out there, but I almost hope there is: that some new discovery awaits.  When I see the lead lines to the towers disappear into nothing, or the trees in the distance only as ghostly specters, it’s inspiring.

At the same time, it can be frightening.  Stephen King made an entire book about menacing (and lethally obscuring) fog.  In the movie The Last Samurai, there is an entire track of the score called “Specters in the Fog” that belies the fear of unseen enemies.

So, yeah, I love fog, even when it makes me waste my entire day because the ferry isn’t running.  I could stare off into that gentle glowing white nothing for hours.  In fact, today, I had that exact opportunity.  Thus, this post.  And now you know.