First: the Agents of SHIELD finale. SO GOOD! I'm satisfied, but also really excited to see where they go in the next season. Second: life's good. I'm writing a lot, reading a lot, and taking long walks to the library both to get more books to read and to take time to let my mind wander over the stories I'm writing.
So, a few weeks back I find this blog post, "Flaws Only a Protagonist Can Have." I spent a little time laughing over it with my sister. It's too ridiculous! But it's funny because it's really not: I see these kind of flaws all over the YA scene. I can't stand it anymore, which might be why I'm gravitating to MG and adult lately. Clumsiness is not a flaw, unless it directly impacts the protagonist's ability to act. Flaws are also irrelevant if they relate to appearance, unless they directly impact the protagonist's ability to act.
I don't like the word "flaw" when used in character development. It reminds me of "strong female character," and you know how I feel about that from a past post. When a writer sits down to create a character, it can be crippling to feel like you need to make them flawed but still likeable. Hence flaws-that-are-not-real-flaws. The thing is, flaws actually contribute to a likeable character because readers can relate. The character isn't a perfect angel, but human like us. When they fall, we know how it feels and root for the character to get up and try again.
No, I don't like "flaw." I prefer the term"weakness" or even better, "hamartia."
The word "hamartia" is Greek and is most famously from the Poetics by Aristotle. It is usually interpreted as "fatal flaw" or "tragic flaw" because this is the thing, Aristotle says, causes a tragic hero to fall. But the word itself means "a missing of the mark" or "sin" and can cover accidental, purposeful, and mistaken wrongdoing. I like this word because it means that a "flaw" doesn't always have to be bad or actively rebelling. A character doesn't have to be evil to make mistakes or get so blinded (Oedipus, anyone?) to the truth that they act in a way that gets people hurt or harms their objective.
Case study: Frozen. Yes, Anna is clumsy and that is not a real flaw, but she's also super-eager to get out and find romance and because of that, she falls for a sociopath (oh, if you don't know that yet...). This is the flaw that matters, the hamartia. She "misses the mark" on both Hans and Elsa (who, she thinks, would never hurt). Anna's weakness is her naivete in understanding people and her trust in them that they don't deserve. And it hurts her. We, the audience, feel for her because we can relate with her mistake and we want her to fix things. She does, and we are thrilled.
Case study #2: Harry Potter in Order of the Phoenix. According to Hermione, Harry has a "saving people thing." This is very true, because Hermione said it. This character trait causes Harry to miss that Voldemort might be trying to use him, and Harry runs off to save Sirius, thus leading to Sirius's death. If Harry had done nothing, everything would have been fine. The flaw moves the story along, and helps us emotionally connect to Harry.
I think I should point out that eagerness and trust and a desire for heroism are not in themselves bad and flaws. But in context, they are. Most of the best stories have characters whose virtues become their flaws. Boromir just wants to save his people, so he's tempted by the Ring. LOTR is a good example of good people falling to weaknesses that really aren't evil.
That's why I like "weakness" and "hamartia." I think perceiving character weaknesses like this allows for real character development. Who is this character? What is he/she like? How can his/her character traits be used against them and their objective? What might he/she miss because he/she's so focused somewhere else? Let us stop this plague of clumsy girls who don't know they're beautiful.
Monday, May 19, 2014
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Feeling Conflicted
The title of this post is meant to be a clever play on my topic today, why conflict matters in a story. It has nothing to do with "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D" and certain feelings I have toward a certain character. I'm not all that conflicted, actually. I want him dead. But it's a Whedon production, so I have a lot of pain to get through before anything like that can happen.
Anyway, conflict. I started my last class of college, a class on writing YA/MG novels. Everyone in the class has to lead a pedagogy exercise. The first one was about conflict and why it's important in telling a powerful story.
This was interesting to me, especially as a genre writer. I've read some criticism of genre that it focuses too much on plot and conflict and not enough on character, and that's a fair point. However, I think that conflict and character go hand in hand. This may be my way of rationalizing conflict in with my overriding philosophy that without good characters, a story won't work as it should.
I do think that a story needs good characters. If the reader's going to spend so much time with them, they have to like them, sympathize with them, relate with them, or just root for them for some reason. I've read books where I either hated the character or felt nothing for them, and I finish the book feeling either meh or cheated, depending. But if we have a character people can root for, they, of course, have to be struggling against something. You don't root for the guy who's doing nothing and has everything going well in his life; you root for the person who has one heck of a battle ahead of him.
Could be to drop the One Ring in Mt. Doom, could be to finally get a new job. But it's got to be hard, relatively speaking, for the character. The best conflicts I've seen have been ones where the conflict seems like just a little (or a lot) more than the protagonist can handle. This may be action (12 men against 1), or it could be mental or emotional. Maybe it takes everything your protagonist has to tell her boyfriend she loves him. Depends on character, depends on what they need to grow and their weaknesses. I've read that the best way to hurt your characters is to hit them where they're weakest. Conflict can come from there, too.
The girl who taught the class on memorable, meaningful conflict asked us to think of stories that had conflict we liked and some that we didn't. The Fault in Our Stars was a top favorite, along with The Lord of the Rings and The Giver. These stories have conflict that is compelling to the reader (think, ouch) and are meaningful in how they impact the reader and the characters (more ouch, but personalized). Stories that didn't make it were Nicholas Sparks romances and action movies, where there's a lot of action but no real feeling of urgency.
She ended with a list of questions for writers to keep in mind when writing conflict, and I'm going to list them here. They were really good and help to think about conflict and characters and how the two interplay to create a compelling story.
1. Why do you (yes, you, the author) care about the conflict?
2. Why should your reader care about the conflict?
3. What does the character want? Can she get it easily? What stands in her way? Should there be more adversity in order for the conflict to feel important?
4. What will she give up in order to obtain her desire? Are these things internal or external?
5. How will getting what she wants affect those around her? Will it hurt them? Help them?
6. What's at risk? How high are the stakes? What will happen if she doesn't get what she wants?
7. Are there issues of time/placement/back story/character clashing that can make this "the perfect storm" (without feeling contrived)?
8. What information does the reader need to see/know in order to understand the weight of the conflict?
9. What failures need to happen before the climax? Successes?
10. What does the character need to learn/become in order to get what she wants? Are there people she needs to meet? Skills she needs to learn? Character flaws she needs to embrace or overcome?
These questions were really useful for me, helping me see some additional pain I could put my character through to heighten the conflict in his story. More conflict, more pain, leads to a more interesting story when it's done well. I guess I can't fault Whedon too much.
Anyway, conflict. I started my last class of college, a class on writing YA/MG novels. Everyone in the class has to lead a pedagogy exercise. The first one was about conflict and why it's important in telling a powerful story.
This was interesting to me, especially as a genre writer. I've read some criticism of genre that it focuses too much on plot and conflict and not enough on character, and that's a fair point. However, I think that conflict and character go hand in hand. This may be my way of rationalizing conflict in with my overriding philosophy that without good characters, a story won't work as it should.
I do think that a story needs good characters. If the reader's going to spend so much time with them, they have to like them, sympathize with them, relate with them, or just root for them for some reason. I've read books where I either hated the character or felt nothing for them, and I finish the book feeling either meh or cheated, depending. But if we have a character people can root for, they, of course, have to be struggling against something. You don't root for the guy who's doing nothing and has everything going well in his life; you root for the person who has one heck of a battle ahead of him.
Could be to drop the One Ring in Mt. Doom, could be to finally get a new job. But it's got to be hard, relatively speaking, for the character. The best conflicts I've seen have been ones where the conflict seems like just a little (or a lot) more than the protagonist can handle. This may be action (12 men against 1), or it could be mental or emotional. Maybe it takes everything your protagonist has to tell her boyfriend she loves him. Depends on character, depends on what they need to grow and their weaknesses. I've read that the best way to hurt your characters is to hit them where they're weakest. Conflict can come from there, too.
The girl who taught the class on memorable, meaningful conflict asked us to think of stories that had conflict we liked and some that we didn't. The Fault in Our Stars was a top favorite, along with The Lord of the Rings and The Giver. These stories have conflict that is compelling to the reader (think, ouch) and are meaningful in how they impact the reader and the characters (more ouch, but personalized). Stories that didn't make it were Nicholas Sparks romances and action movies, where there's a lot of action but no real feeling of urgency.
She ended with a list of questions for writers to keep in mind when writing conflict, and I'm going to list them here. They were really good and help to think about conflict and characters and how the two interplay to create a compelling story.
1. Why do you (yes, you, the author) care about the conflict?
2. Why should your reader care about the conflict?
3. What does the character want? Can she get it easily? What stands in her way? Should there be more adversity in order for the conflict to feel important?
4. What will she give up in order to obtain her desire? Are these things internal or external?
5. How will getting what she wants affect those around her? Will it hurt them? Help them?
6. What's at risk? How high are the stakes? What will happen if she doesn't get what she wants?
7. Are there issues of time/placement/back story/character clashing that can make this "the perfect storm" (without feeling contrived)?
8. What information does the reader need to see/know in order to understand the weight of the conflict?
9. What failures need to happen before the climax? Successes?
10. What does the character need to learn/become in order to get what she wants? Are there people she needs to meet? Skills she needs to learn? Character flaws she needs to embrace or overcome?
These questions were really useful for me, helping me see some additional pain I could put my character through to heighten the conflict in his story. More conflict, more pain, leads to a more interesting story when it's done well. I guess I can't fault Whedon too much.
Monday, April 7, 2014
Why "Atlantis" Is the Most Underrated Disney Movie
Let us begin with contextualization. I watched Atlantis late Saturday night with a roommate who had never seen it before. This needed to be rectified. As we were finding it on Netflix, I commented that most people I know have never seen it, or only saw it once a long time ago. And, as we watched, we realized that it is one of the best geek movies of our time.
So, with no further ado, the reasons:
1. Joss Whedon worked on the story. That would be Joss Whedon, of Buffy, Firefly, and Avengers fame. He worked on the story. Which may be why the film kind of resembles an animated, underground Firefly. All the Whedon trademarks are there: the brilliant writing, the fantastic ensemble cast, the thrilling heroics...and the somewhat convoluted plot, though this one isn't as bad, probably because it's really a kid's movie.
Also, this:
2. The movie is a overflowing fountain of nerd joy. Yes, beyond the Whedon connection. The linguist who developed the Atlantean language in the movie also invented Klingon and Vulcan. Leonard Nimoy is the voice of the king of Atlantis. Although I personally have not seen this movie, I have been told Atlantis shares some plot points with Stargate. I'll leave that to my readers to verify.
3. It, along with Disney's Treasure Planet, is steampunk. Well-done steampunk, with all the awesome that comes with it. Great big machines, subterranean landscapes with monsters and enormous sculptures, adventure, exploration, a culture with a language and customs at the center of the earth...everything Jules Verne-approved for maximum wish fulfillment. The story's style mimics the popular stories of the time the movie is set in (1914), which is kind of awesome, if you think about it.
4. For a Disney movie, it gets dark. It deals with some serious matter, like loss of culture and genocide (you know, for kids!). This adds matter to the story, which causes real thought and real feelings about the story and characters. This movie also is not afraid to kill characters off (see reason #1, above).
5. My favorite reason: Milo Thatch is basically, as my roommate put it, "skinny Steve" from Captain America. Let me explain. The moment in Captain America where Steve Rogers jumps on the dummy grenade as every other soldier runs for cover is the moment when you see that the reason Rogers is a hero has nothing to do with physical strength and combat ability. Here's the scene, below:
What's impressive about Milo in Atlantis is that he, too, is a hero for reasons beyond the physical. Atlantis goes further than Captain America, though, as Milo never gets good at fighting. Even at the end, Milo succeeds by dodging a lot and by being clever. I love this, because it breaks tradition and doesn't break character.
Milo gets to go on this awesome adventure because of his intellectual skills, but I want to make something clear: in the climax and the build-up, Milo is most heroic when standing for what is right. He goes after the villain because "it's the right thing" after convincing the other members of the team that what they're doing is wrong. He has a moral code and he never wavers from it. Ever. And that's super admirable for any character in any movie. It's his integrity that wins him friends to help him and gives him the grit to go into mortal danger to save the girl and the day, not really his intelligence and certainly not his physical skills.
So there. Awesome writer, awesome setting and plot, geekness all over the place, and a hero that is impressive not for amazing skills but for an unyielding belief in doing the right thing. So go watch it. Atlantis is waiting.
So, with no further ado, the reasons:
1. Joss Whedon worked on the story. That would be Joss Whedon, of Buffy, Firefly, and Avengers fame. He worked on the story. Which may be why the film kind of resembles an animated, underground Firefly. All the Whedon trademarks are there: the brilliant writing, the fantastic ensemble cast, the thrilling heroics...and the somewhat convoluted plot, though this one isn't as bad, probably because it's really a kid's movie.
Also, this:
The Shepherd's Journal from Atlantis
Shepherd Book from Firefly
Get it? Shepherd book?
(I am far too amused by this)
2. The movie is a overflowing fountain of nerd joy. Yes, beyond the Whedon connection. The linguist who developed the Atlantean language in the movie also invented Klingon and Vulcan. Leonard Nimoy is the voice of the king of Atlantis. Although I personally have not seen this movie, I have been told Atlantis shares some plot points with Stargate. I'll leave that to my readers to verify.
3. It, along with Disney's Treasure Planet, is steampunk. Well-done steampunk, with all the awesome that comes with it. Great big machines, subterranean landscapes with monsters and enormous sculptures, adventure, exploration, a culture with a language and customs at the center of the earth...everything Jules Verne-approved for maximum wish fulfillment. The story's style mimics the popular stories of the time the movie is set in (1914), which is kind of awesome, if you think about it.
4. For a Disney movie, it gets dark. It deals with some serious matter, like loss of culture and genocide (you know, for kids!). This adds matter to the story, which causes real thought and real feelings about the story and characters. This movie also is not afraid to kill characters off (see reason #1, above).
5. My favorite reason: Milo Thatch is basically, as my roommate put it, "skinny Steve" from Captain America. Let me explain. The moment in Captain America where Steve Rogers jumps on the dummy grenade as every other soldier runs for cover is the moment when you see that the reason Rogers is a hero has nothing to do with physical strength and combat ability. Here's the scene, below:
What's impressive about Milo in Atlantis is that he, too, is a hero for reasons beyond the physical. Atlantis goes further than Captain America, though, as Milo never gets good at fighting. Even at the end, Milo succeeds by dodging a lot and by being clever. I love this, because it breaks tradition and doesn't break character.
So there. Awesome writer, awesome setting and plot, geekness all over the place, and a hero that is impressive not for amazing skills but for an unyielding belief in doing the right thing. So go watch it. Atlantis is waiting.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
YA!
This is a short post. I got shown this video on YA novels, and I had to share it. So that's all today, just this video. Will be back next week with a new rant or review, but this week I'm working on a novel and wondering if it's sane to fangirl over one's own characters.
Yes, this is Dr. Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb. Yes, he apparently has his own web series. And yes, it is addicting. Don't judge me.
Yes, this is Dr. Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb. Yes, he apparently has his own web series. And yes, it is addicting. Don't judge me.
Monday, March 24, 2014
The Problem With the "Strong Female Character"
Right off the bat, I want to disclaim: I am NOT AGAINST strong female characters. After last week's post, you might not believe that. I do like weak characters, particularly when they have to get strong through the story. It seems real to me; I don't buy it when a teenager from our modern world falls into Medieval England and suddenly knows all the social customs as well as how to fight with every weapon. NO. People have to grow, and I prefer to see that. I want to read stories about people, male and female, who seem real.
Which brings me to the problem I have with strong female characters. Stop calling them "strong female characters."
Seriously. Stop it.
We don't call strong male characters "strong male characters." We call them "male characters." And I think that is a heck of a lot more freeing to a writer than feeling the need to write a strong character. It's kind of crippling to sit down and feel like you have to write a STRONG character, because there's so much baggage that comes along with that word, especially when attached to a female character. Especially nowadays, when there's so much political discussion about gender roles in books.
I think that's why all the "strong female characters" in stories now look the same: a headstrong girl caught in some kind of love trouble and somewhat gifted at physical combat. Like this one:
And this one:
And this one:
And her:
And, hey, how about one more:
Lot of bows, I've just noticed. This is Katniss, Tris, Clary, Merida, and Tauriel, in case you were wondering. Honestly, it didn't take me long to come up with this list. I could have found more. Personally, I think this profile works sometimes (Katniss and Merida), but it also fails (In my opinion, Clary is basically Bella Swan with a stele. I don't buy that she can legitimately fight better than a trained warrior because I've read the first 3 books and I've never seen her do it). When I picture Tris and Clary, I never see them fighting. I see them standing too close to a dangerous, overprotective boy.
The problem, to me, is that there is a profile. And if any character fits that profile, she's automatically considered a strong female character. Because when we say "strong," apparently what we mean is a headstrong warrior princess with men falling over themselves for her.
I dislike this because I think it discounts other kinds of strength and can cripple a character. We don't think a male character is strong if he's stubborn, capable of fighting, and chased by women. There's much more diversity, and I wish that on the female characters.
To me, a strong character, male or female, is one who understands what must be done and does it. He or she might have to sacrifice for it, but it must be done and the hero will do it. Because he/she is the hero. Everything else is characterization to make a character come alive, feel like a real person and not a gingerbread cookie.
I want to see women who are stay-at-home moms. I want to see nuns and traveling saleswomen and chefs and computer programmers who have never touched a butter knife. I want women who can't fight worth a bent arrow but will defend their loved ones to the end through words and persuasion. I want women who put aside immediate wants because they know what needs to be done. I want sensible, clever women who know when not to use their power (I've been reading a lot of Terry Prachett lately). I want men who do these things too. I want varied characters, real characters, who resonate through their humanness.
Which is why I like characters who fail. They are so much stronger for failing, accepting the consequences, and coming back to try again. Calling a character "strong" right away makes it harder to let them fail. Or even make mistakes. I don't want a formula anymore; that all I see when I go to the YA section of Barnes and Noble. Let's do something new and write characters who are strong, but maybe only after you got to know them a little.
Which brings me to the problem I have with strong female characters. Stop calling them "strong female characters."
Seriously. Stop it.
We don't call strong male characters "strong male characters." We call them "male characters." And I think that is a heck of a lot more freeing to a writer than feeling the need to write a strong character. It's kind of crippling to sit down and feel like you have to write a STRONG character, because there's so much baggage that comes along with that word, especially when attached to a female character. Especially nowadays, when there's so much political discussion about gender roles in books.
I think that's why all the "strong female characters" in stories now look the same: a headstrong girl caught in some kind of love trouble and somewhat gifted at physical combat. Like this one:
And this one:
Lot of bows, I've just noticed. This is Katniss, Tris, Clary, Merida, and Tauriel, in case you were wondering. Honestly, it didn't take me long to come up with this list. I could have found more. Personally, I think this profile works sometimes (Katniss and Merida), but it also fails (In my opinion, Clary is basically Bella Swan with a stele. I don't buy that she can legitimately fight better than a trained warrior because I've read the first 3 books and I've never seen her do it). When I picture Tris and Clary, I never see them fighting. I see them standing too close to a dangerous, overprotective boy.
The problem, to me, is that there is a profile. And if any character fits that profile, she's automatically considered a strong female character. Because when we say "strong," apparently what we mean is a headstrong warrior princess with men falling over themselves for her.
I dislike this because I think it discounts other kinds of strength and can cripple a character. We don't think a male character is strong if he's stubborn, capable of fighting, and chased by women. There's much more diversity, and I wish that on the female characters.
To me, a strong character, male or female, is one who understands what must be done and does it. He or she might have to sacrifice for it, but it must be done and the hero will do it. Because he/she is the hero. Everything else is characterization to make a character come alive, feel like a real person and not a gingerbread cookie.
I want to see women who are stay-at-home moms. I want to see nuns and traveling saleswomen and chefs and computer programmers who have never touched a butter knife. I want women who can't fight worth a bent arrow but will defend their loved ones to the end through words and persuasion. I want women who put aside immediate wants because they know what needs to be done. I want sensible, clever women who know when not to use their power (I've been reading a lot of Terry Prachett lately). I want men who do these things too. I want varied characters, real characters, who resonate through their humanness.
Which is why I like characters who fail. They are so much stronger for failing, accepting the consequences, and coming back to try again. Calling a character "strong" right away makes it harder to let them fail. Or even make mistakes. I don't want a formula anymore; that all I see when I go to the YA section of Barnes and Noble. Let's do something new and write characters who are strong, but maybe only after you got to know them a little.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Frozen's Flawed Females
Gosh, getting back into a rhythm is harder than I thought. Like the alliterated title for this post? You wouldn't believe how long it took me to come up with it. (Sigh) It's been a long day.
Anyway, this post is kind of a response-but-not-really to an article I read regarding the Disney movie Frozen. You know, this one:
With all the snow and stuff and the song that everyone keeps making covers of. I guess the world can't really let it go. Yes, I do think I'm clever. If I didn't I wouldn't have a blog.
The article I read was titled "The Problem With Fake Feminism (Or Why Frozen Left Me Cold)" by Dani Coleman. I didn't agree with everything she said, though I thought the logic was good and the tone wasn't abrasive, as an article on this topic could have been. May also be my personal feeling, here; she certainly didn't sound detached and objective, but I liked how many examples she used. It was thought out.
But I did agree that Frozen wasn't that feminist a movie, for the reasons Coleman listed. But I didn't care. In fact, what I liked most about the film was that Elsa and Anna aren't examples of feminism. I was excited they were majorly flawed.
I've been thinking about strong female characters a lot (and getting annoyed; stay tuned for another post on why this is) and I was glad that the case can be made that Frozen doesn't have any. Now, I call myself a feminist because I believe men and women deserve equal rights, but I don't go to a movie and look for the feminist messages. Or the Marxist. Or any political message at all. That's fine for other people, especially those who study such things for their life's work. My life's work is writing good, solid stories, so that's what I want. Granted, Frozen's story was not the strongest; the ending was a bit abrupt for me. I thought Wreck-It Ralph and Tangled had more solid plot lines.
But I liked the characters, and I liked their flaws. I like characters who have problems that dig them into holes that hurt, and they have to climb out somehow. In Frozen, Anna's impulsiveness, while not a strong trait, hurts her. It's not an outside force; it's her own dang fault. She hastily gets engaged to a man she just met, she runs off into the snowstorm in the middle of the night, she trusts her sister with dangerous consequences. And Anna suffers the consequences of her foolishness. She lives happily ever after, but there is a cost for her actions. Elsa is the same way, running from her power and living in fear, and accidentally unleashing a storm on her kingdom. Elsa's irresponsible and fearful actions cause her to harm her sister, and she does pay for that.
All the while I'm cheering Disney on. Yes, the characters are doing reactive, stupid things, but they're acting. And they're paying for their mistakes. I liked that. A lot. It's realistic; you do something foolish, you are going to face the consequences. I think Disney could have done it better, yes. I think the plot could have been smoother and this idea of choices and consequences could have been stronger. But I'm glad that Disney has characters who aren't always strong and who do foolish, impulsive things. I'm glad that the consequences come and the characters pay for what they do and yet survive them. Not all stories have to be about strong heroes. Some stories need to be told about the people who begin weak and foolish and learn their lessons, becoming stronger in the end. It makes me wonder what a Frozen 2 would be like, and then I shudder because I wouldn't advocate a sequel unless it's done well.
Also, Frozen was fun. The animation, the music...spectacular. I'd see the Broadway show.
Anyway, this post is kind of a response-but-not-really to an article I read regarding the Disney movie Frozen. You know, this one:
The article I read was titled "The Problem With Fake Feminism (Or Why Frozen Left Me Cold)" by Dani Coleman. I didn't agree with everything she said, though I thought the logic was good and the tone wasn't abrasive, as an article on this topic could have been. May also be my personal feeling, here; she certainly didn't sound detached and objective, but I liked how many examples she used. It was thought out.
But I did agree that Frozen wasn't that feminist a movie, for the reasons Coleman listed. But I didn't care. In fact, what I liked most about the film was that Elsa and Anna aren't examples of feminism. I was excited they were majorly flawed.
I've been thinking about strong female characters a lot (and getting annoyed; stay tuned for another post on why this is) and I was glad that the case can be made that Frozen doesn't have any. Now, I call myself a feminist because I believe men and women deserve equal rights, but I don't go to a movie and look for the feminist messages. Or the Marxist. Or any political message at all. That's fine for other people, especially those who study such things for their life's work. My life's work is writing good, solid stories, so that's what I want. Granted, Frozen's story was not the strongest; the ending was a bit abrupt for me. I thought Wreck-It Ralph and Tangled had more solid plot lines.
But I liked the characters, and I liked their flaws. I like characters who have problems that dig them into holes that hurt, and they have to climb out somehow. In Frozen, Anna's impulsiveness, while not a strong trait, hurts her. It's not an outside force; it's her own dang fault. She hastily gets engaged to a man she just met, she runs off into the snowstorm in the middle of the night, she trusts her sister with dangerous consequences. And Anna suffers the consequences of her foolishness. She lives happily ever after, but there is a cost for her actions. Elsa is the same way, running from her power and living in fear, and accidentally unleashing a storm on her kingdom. Elsa's irresponsible and fearful actions cause her to harm her sister, and she does pay for that.
All the while I'm cheering Disney on. Yes, the characters are doing reactive, stupid things, but they're acting. And they're paying for their mistakes. I liked that. A lot. It's realistic; you do something foolish, you are going to face the consequences. I think Disney could have done it better, yes. I think the plot could have been smoother and this idea of choices and consequences could have been stronger. But I'm glad that Disney has characters who aren't always strong and who do foolish, impulsive things. I'm glad that the consequences come and the characters pay for what they do and yet survive them. Not all stories have to be about strong heroes. Some stories need to be told about the people who begin weak and foolish and learn their lessons, becoming stronger in the end. It makes me wonder what a Frozen 2 would be like, and then I shudder because I wouldn't advocate a sequel unless it's done well.
Also, Frozen was fun. The animation, the music...spectacular. I'd see the Broadway show.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Did You Miss Me?
Okay, I had to start with this. I've been away from my blog for so long, you probably wondered if I ever was coming back. Well, I'm back. And I've watched Sherlock season 3 and Doctor Who Christmas Special and many other nerdy things. Have you seen The Lego Movie? You should. And I might blog about that later.
I have a lot of ideas for future blog posts. They've been accumulating behind the dam of my procrastination and frazzled panic. Yes, part of this hiatus was purely laziness. I just couldn't get myself moving to blog again. At first it was a lack of subject matter and then it was too much. I didn't know what to talk about.
The other part was a workload known only to graduate students in their last semester, staring down the barrel of the Thesis Defense. I had a novel to complete, drafts to polish, paperwork to fill out, people to track down for signatures, readings to study, and a corner to crawl into and rock, fetal-position, as I realized I could count the hours until my defense on my fingers and toes.
(Kidding - I actually spent that time knitting and denying that anything was about to happen. I'm making a shawl with green yarn. It has leaf patterns. Next up is either Hermione's beaded bag or a 221B Backer Street wallpaper pillow. Yes, I'm a geek. Look above for further proof.)
Long story short, I passed the defense. Yay! I'm a master of fine arts, if not officially, then technically. I can finally stop feeling like an impostor in this program. So what I do to celebrate? I went to a writing conference in Seattle, where I ate oysters and didn't sleep much. Oh yeah, and learned about writing.
A few weeks ago I went to the Life, The Universe, and Everything conference in Provo, where I learned about writing science fiction, fantasy, and horror and how to make a living writing. And then I went to AWP in Seattle, where people stepped around the subject of genre or defended it and talked about how to make a living with a day job while writing your art. I don't know what to believe anymore.
I liked both. I learned a lot from both and made a lot of contacts that will be valuable to me as I continue my writing career. I actually ran into the same publisher at both places, which felt a little fate-y to me. We'll see what happens with that. I don't have the time or the mental capacity to share everything that happened at these conferences, so I'll say this: if you haven't gone to writer's conferences, go. I've learned a lot over the years by attending these conferences, and even when I don't learn anything new, the sessions tend to spark new ideas in me and polish the ideas I already have. Thinking about writing is never a bad thing, and if you can do that while learning more about your craft from smart, accomplished writers (I saw Brandon Sanderson and Orson Scott Card at LTUE, and Ursula K. LeGuin and Sherman Alexie at AWP), it's worth the registration fee. There are other ways to get in without paying a lot, but that's a subject for another day.
Now, I'm back and done with the thesis. I'm conferenced-out and want nothing more than to rest and read the books I want to read. I have lots of story ideas, and now I have the time to work on them. And the names of weird literary journals (I mean weird in the best possible way) to send them to. Of course, I also have time to write on this blog again.
It feels good to be back.
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