The Library Awards

I can't say I watched the Oscars last night. I never do; I have other things to do and it's not every much of a priority for me when I can just look up who won the next day.

Can I just say how excited I am that Into the Spiderverse won Best Animated Feature? Yes, folks, I have been saying it's good, and now it's objectively proven to be good. Stop calling me a Marvel fangirl and just go see it!

I know a lot of people get into the Oscars, but I don't. I love movies and storytelling as much as the next person, but a lot of the hype seems self-congratulatory and fake to me. The film industry is telling us and selling us on how awesome the film industry is. I wonder what would happen if they took away the hype, or tried to hype other awards. Like the Nobel Prizes.

Or awards for books.

Yes, we have awards for books. But they don't seem to have nearly the hype or party around them as movies.

That thought led to a train that has brought me to present to you my idea for a televised award show for books that come out through a year. I call it the Library Awards, instead of the Academy Awards.

There could be categories for Best Picture Book, Best YA, Best Adult's, Best Nonfiction, like the overall categories, but I think the other categories could get a little more creative. After all, in books, we don't have musical score and costuming, so may I suggest for approval the following categories:

- Best Twist Ending
- Best Adaptation of Film/Comic Book
- Best Graphic Novel
- Most Poetic Language
- Most Complex Hero/Villain
- Best Narrator in a Supporting Role (Lemony Snicket is a past winner of this category)
- Best Book to Movie Adaptation
- Best Use of Setting in a Supporting Role
- Most Helpful Map in a Fantasy Novel
- Best Short Fiction in a Collection
- Best Use of Foreshadowing
- Most Avant-garde Novel
- Best Romantic "Ship" in a Novel

Feel free to add or subtract as you please. This is simply speculation.

The awards show itself would be spectacular. We could have writers, agents, publishers, and fans alike arrive in elegant suits and gowns modeled after character designs, or paying homage to books themselves.

The goodie bags could have books, gift cards for bookstores, or some of those lovely book-scented candles or perfumes in them.

Awards would be presented by fans or by authors, publishers, etc. Maybe some characters could make a guest appearance.

And, of course, since every light side has its dark side, there'd be the "Razzies" of books, as well, the worst in each category.

I see no problem with this. And since books and short stories are inspiring so many movies lately, well, why shouldn't we pay homage to the roots?Disclaimer: for all I know, book award ceremonies are actually like this, just not as widely televised. If this is the case, that sounds rad.

Last but certainly no least, in the spirit of the season and this post, congrats to everyone who has won awards recently in every book category! You deserve all the little gold statues and book-scented candles!

Religion and Conviction in "The Hunchback of Notre Dame"

So, I had a great time at LTUE!

I did all right on my four panels, which was a relief, since this was my first time. I also made a bunch of friends and got to eat chicken salad croissants for three days, and I attended some very informative and interesting panels. My favorites might have been the one on Irish Mythology and the one about murder statistics.

I have varied interests. I'm a writer.

Anyway, I have a lot of good notes for my future writing, which is what I needed, because I have at least one antagonist I need to fully understand soon, since their stories need to be foreshadowed and all that. It was a good weekend, but a busy one, so on Sunday I relaxed by watching The Hunchback of Notre Dame again.

As I watched, maybe it was because it was Sunday and I've been doing a study of the New Testament, but I was struck by the way the film handles religion.

There's no way Disney couldn't discuss religion to some degree in this film. Heck, the cathedral is pretty much a character! But what I like is that they made religion a more universal trait, which makes sense for Catholic medieval France, and had many characters who held some kind of faith, and acted on it differently. That allows religion as a whole to be commented on but not praised or condemned, and allows characters to not be a stand-in for the ideas present in the film.

This can be linked to having multiple female or minority characters; when you have only one, they become the representative for everyone like them. If the film only had Frollo express religious faith, he would have become the film's only voice on the subject, but he's not.

For starters, let's look at the characters who use religion positively through the film. There's the archdeacon, the priest who stops Frollo from killing baby Quasimodo and actively tries to help and guide as he can.

 
He's not the most active character in the film, but whenever he appears, he does move to prevent bloodshed and to assert faith and hope. I'm thinking not only of his first appearance, the one I mentioned, but also when he's advising Esmeralda. The archdeacon comes across as kind and fatherly, more a mentor figure for the characters.

(Which makes me wonder if he, off-screen, did a little more than we realize in teaching and raising Quasimodo while he lived in the cathedral.)

So let's talk about Quasimodo next. Through songs like "Heaven's Light," especially, we see a simple childlike faith in Quasi. We don't get much religious diction from him, but what we do get is gentle and optimistic, seeing the good in others and in the world.

Speaking of songs, we can't ignore "God Help the Outcasts," which brings me to Esmeralda. Her faith is shown as young, not very knowledgeable, but very selfless, as she prays for those who are needy (juxtaposed with the other worshippers who pray for themselves).

A common thread I see in all these positive examples of religion in the film is a turning outward. The archdeacon, Quasimodo, and Esmeralda care more about others than about themselves. I would think that they seek more to live their faith through actions than through words, which might be why we have so little religious diction from any of them. These characters live in ways that would be accepted by a Christian faith: they are generous, forgiving, protective, and loving.

Now let's talk about Frollo. All he ever does is talk about religion; his speech is loaded with it.

However, he's the negative example because he's turned inward. In the first song, Clopin sings, about Frollo, "He saw corruption everywhere except within," which may suggest he's too turned outward, but when Frollo himself sings "Hellfire," he starts by telling the Virgin Mary that he's "a righteous man" and "so much purer than the common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd."

Frollo is a character who is cruel and does not act in a Christian way. He has turned inward on himself, thinking only of how good and righteous he is while looking away and despising others. Since I've been reading the New Testament, I'd classify him a Pharisaical hypocrite, someone who uses his religiosity for power and self-affirmation, not to help and lift others.

Which leads him, to when he feels lust for Esmeralda, to refuse the responsibility of changing himself (after all, he's perfect and righteous in his own mind) and instead blames her for the effect.

 
This movie continues to be one of my favorite Disney films because of how well they make a statement about living one's faith versus speaking it, and one religion turned outward versus inward, without praising or condemning religion as a whole. I also love how its discussion is still topical today, in the way Frollo's self-satisfaction in his own "goodness" leads him to hatred and blaming others for his own sins, instead of helping those who need help.

I don't know what you would compare this to in today's age. In the polarized world we live in, I can imagine that perhaps people on all sides of debates might be the positive or negative examples of conviction that The Hunchback of Notre Dame shows us. When someone's spoken belief no long matches what they do, when they preach love and tolerance but behave with hate, no matter what their religious beliefs or political line in the sand, they've become a Frollo, haven't they? And shouldn't we all seek to be more like the archdeacon, Quasimodo, and Esmeralda and live an outward-reaching life? Are we really as good as we think we are, or can we be better?

All this because the film didn't make one character representative of an entire idea.

I don't know if this post made any sense, but it was interesting for me to write. I'm game for discussion, or any ideas for future posts you may want me to weigh in on.

"They're Fighting - That's How You Know They're in Love"

Hey! This week is LTUE!

It's finally here, from Thursday Feb. 14-Saturday Feb. 16! I'm excited, but also kind of nervous. I hope to see you there. Here's my specific schedule, of my panels, but I plan on being there all day, every day of the conference. It's a good one.

As you can see from the LTUE dates, this week is also Valentine's Day.

Which means that, hopefully, you will get treated or treat yourself, and I will treat all of you to a romantic(?) trope that I think can work really well, or be a sign of really lazy writing/fandom.

The "they fight all the time so they must have romantic chemistry" trope.

As someone who has a couple of characters who are known for fighting a lot, I hear about this trope a lot. Heck, as someone who is on the internet a lot, I hear about this trope a lot. It's everywhere, from Hallmark movies to people's ship wars online. Here's the thing: I think too often it's done poorly and allows for glorifying toxic relationships.

Let us begin. This trope is so popular in romances as a way of raising tension in the story. If there's nothing keeping the main characters apart, then there's not much of a story. However, if they meet and instantly find something about the other person that irritates them, or something they even loathe, then you can keep a wedge between them for longer, and draw out the tension.

I see nothing wrong with this as long as it's done believably. In fact, I think this can be an excellent way to show character and character growth. Say what you will about Hallmark movies, but they're pretty good at this: the flaws the characters find in each other that cause them to fight are often based on misunderstandings stemming from past experiences or personality traits, or end up revealing issues the characters need to resolve before they can achieve the happy ending.

For example, they fight because she thinks he's lazy and he thinks she's a snob, but what has happened is that he saw her brush someone off without knowing the context, and she is very hardworking, to a fault, and needs to learn to let more in her life (she's the main protagonist).

You've seen this movie, I'm sure, or many like it. This kind of fighting tends to get resolved as the characters learn more about themselves and each other, and grow as people. They see that what they thought was a big deal actually was just a misunderstanding or that it wasn't as important as the things they admire or have in common with the other person.

This is done well. What is not done well is when the story takes this trope at face value and decides that fighting=chemistry.

No. NO. NO. NO!

I want to illustrate this with a story from my own life. I came home from a group gathering angry because I'd gotten into an argument with a guy (this was a couple months ago before I starting dating my boyfriend). When I told my parents about it, they responded with amusement and told me, "If this was a movie, you'd end up falling for him."

Context? I was fighting with the guy because he was trying to convince me that black people who get shot by police deserve it and that it's okay to pay women less than men for the same job because their ability to get pregnant makes them a liability.

In short, I didn't like him and I found his views revolting. We disagreed on a very fundamental level. This was not a misunderstanding or a character flaw I had to "get over." If I did the fiction thing and took this as a sign of chemistry, I would have found myself in a toxic relationship.

And yet I see this happen sometimes in stories and TV and online writing. Writers want to show chemistry, so they show the characters fighting without paying attention to the traits or perspectives that would lead to the argument, and how those traits lead to a wholesome relationship later. Or, I see fans shipping relationships, say, "These characters fight all the time. You can smell the chemistry," without, again, considering why they're fighting and if, just maybe, the differences are a little too much here.

Tropes aren't inherently good or bad, but I think when they're handled lazily they can lead to some very bad things. Like glorifying fighting in relationships as a sign of chemistry, when most social science agrees that while couples fight, the ability to work through issues together is a better indicator of success, and also, people tend to prefer partners who are similar to them in background and views.

That's not universal, of course. But the point I'm trying to make is that when writing characters who clash, writers need to consider why they're clashing and how the romantic relationship leads to positive growth for both parties, not a future of consistent bickering. Unless you're trying to show an unhealthy relationship, then by all means, go for it.

So, this Valentine's Day, I wish you lots of love and lots of well-written love stories, full of positive conflict and devoid of unhealthy relationships. May I suggest The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer?

Satisfying Endings

Last week I had the chance to see the musical Wonderland at BYU.

It's a fairly recent musical; it premiered on Broadway in April 2011.

And closed a month later.

I can understand why. The music is very good, and the performers I saw had strong, excellent voices and acting chops. The musical does convey the sense of madness and danger that we associate with Wonderland. (It made me want to reread Heartless by Marissa Meyer.)

But the story was disappointing. There wasn't much of a narrative through the play, and the characters didn't seem to have much depth. Yeah, I know. It's a version of Alice in Wonderland, which one can argue doesn't have or need much of a narrative. I could have forgiven the lack of narrative except for...anyway, spoilers ahead.

The ending was a let down. The whole play is about an adult woman named Alice and how her life is essentially falling apart. Her daughter follows the White Rabbit into Wonderland and Alice follows, and while down there starts to remember the person she was as a child, becomes less selfish, etc. Not a bad idea. The Mad Hatter is female, and is the mirror image of Alice: the dark to her light, the evil to her good. She's the villain of this piece, and the story is supposed to end when Alice confronts and defeats her.

I was so ready for that ending. I could not wait for the showdown. It never came. Not really. They get ready for a chess battle, the Hatter kills the White Knight (the Wonderland version of Alice's husband), and while Alice mourns, the Queen of Hearts comes out and orders the game over and the Hatter's head removed. This happens as dictated.

Um, no? If the story is setting up for a literal and symbolic battle between Alice and her dark side, I want to freaking see it. I don't see an ending here where Alice has triumphed. It's like the live-action Beauty and the Beast - someone else took care of it for her. I don't feel a sense of completion.

See also the ending of the Twilight Saga. We are promised a battle we never get. Sure, characters learn and grow, but the narrative arc doesn't conclude and we're left feeling like we rode to the top of the first hill of a roller coaster, only to go no further. The rubber needs to actually hit the road. If the story has been about a character's growth, we need to see the character act in a new way that shows that growth. We need to see them face the problem that's been confronting them this whole time and come out on top, or at least fail trying.

I just read Empress of All Seasons by Emiko Jean.

This book gave me a good time. Excellent worldbuilding, and I loved reading a Japanese fantasy. The ending was satisfying in the way I just said: characters had to deal with the consequences of their actions, and the rubber had to hit the road. The characters in this book had to act on the growth they've had over the book, had to test themselves and show what they really cared for, all while the stakes were high, and I loved that.

The ending was a little disappointing, though, in other ways. While the story concluded, I felt like the author tried to shove too much character development, some of it unnecessary to the story, and too many themes and lessons into the end of the book. I felt a little preached to, in a weird and artificial way, which I didn't enjoy, but that's a post for another week.

The point is, endings are hard. I get it. But the ending is the final challenge not only for the writer but also for the characters. This is the moment when the readers see, in action, the way the characters have changed and grown. We see the stakes present and know this is the moment when the characters either win or don't. When the ending doesn't do this, the story fizzles. What has this whole book been building up to, anyway?

That's not something I want as a reader, and I sure don't want it as a writer. I want to leave my readers feeling like they just watched a fireworks finale: they know the story is over, but they're fully satisfied. Don't we all?