17216--Two Shades of Black

The City of Magick, oddly enough, is governed by the god of Bright Chaos, Coyote.  Since the entire plane of Magick is subject to the Trickster's will, allowing the focus of its darkest elements on what had become the least dangerous area to humans almost makes it seem as though he takes a special interest in tormenting those who dwell there.  Of course, some will say the humans have brought the darkness upon themselves.  Anything's possible.

The presence of humans and darkness in The City invites the focus on two types of stories that are very similar, but have very specific differences.  Those are hardboiled and noir genres.  The close relatives are made distinct by the nature of their protagonists.  A hardboiled protagonist meets the challenges of a corrupt and violent world with anti-hero cynicism.  His attitude probably comes from having experienced so much from the darker side of life that he not only considers it normal, but is happy to fight fire with fire.  That protagonist is a crime-solver, whether a detective, a maverick cop or gun-toting amateur.

The protagonist in noir fiction isn't a crime-solver and might actually be either a perpetrator or a victim.  This character is less a hard rock in a river of corruption and more one of the many fish navigating the murky waters.  Noir's protagonist may be a victim, but his character is likely to respond by victimizing others and perpetuating the darkness.  With players who may be as self-destructive as self-preserving, saying whether they come out as winners or losers may depend on which way the light hits the scene.

All that, of course, means that the most insidious dangers in the dark corners of The City may not come from magic.  That sexy stranger warming up to the struggling protagonist may seem like a bright oasis in the night, but a lot of steamy intimacy could still end with a knife between either's ribs.  The best advice for characters in either noir or hardboiled genres might be to drop the word "trust" from their vocabularies, especially when some shouldn't even trust themselves.

16805--Settling Differences Between Good and Evil

Phantom Limb: "We're not so different, you and I."

Brock Samson: "Yeah, I don't need another 'We're not so different' speech.  I get those a lot."

Phantom Limb: "Yes, I'm sure you do."

There's a strange intimacy that exists between antagonists and protagonists.  The dynamic interplay of their differences creates both attraction and friction in a dance of interconnectedness.  Despite their enmity, they are drawn into each other's orbits, each one's movements influencing the other.  One is driven to create Chaos while the other's passion is to preserve Order.  One is driven to commit the crimes that the other is dedicated to stop.

They are Lex Luthor and Superman, one striving to freely exploit as much of the world as he can while the other champions life and freedom for all.

They are Moriarty and Holmes, linked by the crafting of criminal intrigues versus the drive to unravel challenging puzzles.

They are any politician's image and the image of the politician's opposition, each contesting to propagate the best lie.

In characters, the simplest form of the dynamic may exist between one character seeking a goal and the other blocking the attainment of that goal.  Very often, at least one of the two will hate the other.  In the more complex dynamics, the two may have begun as friends and, though their choices have put them at odds, there could still exist a measure of respect between them--if not mutual, at least one for the other. 

Their backgrounds often serve to highlight the friction between them, whether they perceive themselves as having come from a loving family environment or one fraught with tension.  Do they consider their formative years to have been easy or difficult?  A protagonist will usually see their life experiences as the foundation for positive growth.  Some of the most bitter antagonists can go through the same experiences as the protagonist they oppose yet find excuses not to grow at all.  The  most complex antagonists will find justification to respond to their struggles in such an extreme fashion that while the hero might consider their paths to differ greatly, the hero can still understand the choice of his opponent.  Perhaps more importantly, readers can accept it as a viable choice that they themselves might have made.

Professor Xavier and Magneto are prime examples of opponents locked in a dynamic where two friends came to be at odds by choosing differing paths to achieve similar goals.  Both characters want to see the world grow into an environment where mutants can live safely.  Xavier believes this can be achieved through peaceful coexistence between mutant and non-mutantkind.  Magneto believes this is only possible if mutants rule over society.  He respects Xavier's efforts, even supports them, but his own suffering at the hands of Nazis has soured his faith in the potential of humanity's goodness and a special intolerance for racism.

In a relationship of such complexity, hero and villain might ultimately come to a point where, even though they continue at cross purposes, they recognize a validity in each other's mission.  By that, meaning that while they don't kiss and make up, they don't go out of their way to oppose each other directly either.

Is there a hero-villain pairing that resonates with you as being particularly profound?

16779--He Just Didn't Deserve to Die

Why was I going to kill this guy?  It seemed a simple enough question, but if I already knew the answer, I wouldn't have been asking myself and it would've already been done.  That's how I operate.  If I've raised the question, maybe I'm not done with this fellow yet.  Maybe he just needs to be maimed.

These are the things some characters will put you through.  Do you write a scene to accomplish a particular death in a particular manner?  Perhaps you're giving another character the opportunity to display something about himself through this killing.  Will it be difficult to do?  Maybe he can't do it at all.

What sort of an impact are you trying to make, not just on the victim but the audience?  Will it be a messy death?  Will there be last words?  Will it be quick or will Mr. Body linger on like Rasputin, requiring multiple efforts to put him down and keep him down?  Did he suffer?


There have been times when I've found that I wanted to kill off minor characters to demonstrate not just an antagonist's willingness to kill people but also to alert readers that they shouldn't get so comfortable as to think I wouldn't kill off characters who seemed safe.  Conversely, in another story I'm working on, I changed an opening fight sequence completely.  Instead of having the protagonist kill attackers to show off her fighting prowess, the situation was changed to one that was important enough to her to fight but no longer life-threatening.  In that way, the protagonist could show her skills and any killing that needs to come up later won't have it's impact lessened through overuse.



You don't have to explain it to the audience.  You might find that it works better to leave the readers wondering why Joe had to go.  If you're going to write it, though, you should know.  You will only enhance your ability to tell whatever story you're writing by being able to answer any such question that comes up.  That way, whatever situations arise and whatever choices you make to navigate them, you'll be able to know you had a good reason for it.  If you happened to have made notes, when someone asks "What were you thinking?", you'll even have a prepared response.

16490--Come to the Bright Side

I side with the good guys.  I'll let you know that up front.  I enjoy heroes, even the ones with the tarnish on their armor.  I'll go as far as enjoying an anti-hero when there's no better option.  I suppose it has more to do with being able to see a respectable mission statement driving their actions.  I love Superman and Wonder Woman, but I also am a fierce supporter of Batman and The Shadow and Jack Bauer.

I don't cheer for the bad guys or think they're cool.  Sure, I can see that there are varying shades of bad, ranging from the laughable and sad all the way out to horrifying agents of inhuman evil.  Some people find themselves drawn to the seductions of the dark and consider those of a heroic nature to be weak or "lame".  I keep an eye on those people.  They make me wonder about them.

I don't live under a rock, so I've seen the rise in interest of vampires as heroic and romantic figures rather than as predatory villains that an audience will enjoy seeing defeated.  I still find this a curious phenomenon and find that fighting the dark side makes far more sense.  Give me "Blade" over "Twilight" any day.  I'm still on the fence over "Star Wars", since Lucas added all that stuff about the "good guys" starting up a slave army.  I definitely wasn't crazy about Darth Maul being a popular Halloween costume choice.

Long ago, I went to watch a movie with a friend.  It was a comedy remake of a foreign film that ran longer than it needed to, but my friend really wanted to see it.  Let's just say that it focused on three men and a baby of uncertain parentage.  This was an era when irresponsible sex or, as Julia Roberts taught us, being a prostitute to a rich guy was funny.  Anyway, at the climax of the film, a couple of the men and the baby were being pursued by gun-wielding criminals intent on doing bodily harm to the helpless comic actors.  My friend bounced on the edge of her seat tensely urging the protagonists to "Get away!  Get away!" with anxious whispers.  To me, it was obvious that they'd come out OK because this wasn't the kind of movie that Hollywood was about to throw a bloody body count into any sooner than they would bring a serial killing pedophile onto "Full House" to destroy the Olsen twin empire in its infancy.  Still, she made me wonder..."Are there bad guys out there cheering for the criminals to catch the men and the baby even though it was clear that there was no chance of evil triumphing in this movie?"  There was no way for me to answer that at the time, so I filed it away in the vast brain cell storage repository I keep atop my neck.

A few years later, I was on a business trip.  I worked for IBM at the time, so they were fairly common.  On this particular trip, I had the good fortune to meet a lot of people from different parts of the country and talk with one who had worked on a computer network installation in a juvenile detention center.  Well, having not had the exposure to the criminal element that I would in years to come, I leapt on the opportunity to explain to him my movie theater question and ask if he had perhaps gleaned any insight he could offer me.  He paused thoughtfully and cocked his head to one side as he searched his own memory repository, then looked at me with epiphanous intensity as he said, "You know, they do!"

Ah, sweet confirmation!  Even though our entertainment industry has given us the hard-sell on messages like "crime doesn't pay" and "good will triumph", bad guys will cheer for bad guys.  Who doesn't like Superman?  Bad guys, that's who.  When you're composing your next work of intriguing fiction and remembering to infuse your antagonist with heaping quantities of humanity for the audience to identify with, don't be shy about making bad guys bad.  Why?  Because they are.  I've met a lot of them.  They're human, but they're quite willing to disregard that you are.  Some of them are good at hiding their dark qualities from the masses, but they do harbor them and eagerly seek the bright virtues in you that afford them ready prey.  They seek your trust and your empathy.  Whether harboring fear or anger or whatever other dark motivators, bad guys are ultimately true to their labels.  They range from the laughable and pitiable to the cold and monstrous.

Flirting with the dark may give you a thrill, but you're turning your back on what's good for you to invite something bad inside.  Next time you're relishing your gaze into the abyss, delightfully engaged by intriguing villainy, be careful not to lose yourself in there.  You have to live with what comes back out.

16392--Lowering the Bar

I'm...wondering about us.  I'm not just wondering about a selective "us".  No, this time, I find myself concerned about the collective "us".

Stop rolling your eyes.  This is for your benefit, too.

Our stories are our mythologies.  They aren't strict histories, but they are tales of us and our culture.  They may be more telling now than any other time we know as we have not only local cultures, but grand global culture as well.  Tales of the global culture have grown and changed over the last few decades, with creators and audiences finding comfort in exploring greater levels of detail and emotional depth.

We have largely foresaken simplistic tales for those deemed more realistic.  As a result, we have populated our stories with protagonists and antagonists who find themselves sharing more traits with each other.  Antagonists who wear the mantle of tragedy or show some quality making them worthy of redemption have become most interesting.  Likewise, protagonists are heralded not for the heroic qualities they use to rise above crisis and conflict, but their own flaws over which they find triumph in spite of lest they be deemed lacking of sufficient dimensionality.  While we are certain we have gained previously unknown richness in our entertainment, have we done so at too great a cost to ourselves?

We have given ourselves protagonists increasingly willing to embrace internal darkness as part of their nature rather than as a part of their struggle.  Flaws have become less the uncertain footing for a hero to guard against and more the traction of his foundation.  A character like Superman has been deemed "too good" by many with his heroic ideals considered to be something to which we can no longer relate.  Many modern folk have come to champion Batman and Wolverine as examples of those with whom they can find greater comfort because of their darker aspects.  What are we saying about ourselves when we find that we're happier dealing with a hero who's a brooding alcoholic willing to take a few shortcuts to win the day than one who's willing to put other people's needs ahead of his own and make the right choices even though they're hard choices?  On what side of the line in the sand have we chosen to stand when we find more ready respect for a villain than a hero?

Have we lowered the bar too much?  In some ways, it seems we have.  I've become concerned for us because it has started to look like we are more comfortable with protagonists and antagonists who seem more realistic because of the challenges they don't represent rather than those that they do.  An antagonist we can understand is one we can possibly talk with rather than fight.  A protagonist who doesn't stand as too tall a role model, daunting us with lofty aspirations, makes us feel less inadequate but also gives us lower goals for which to reach.  Sadly, we're left lost and confused.

Remember the TV series "Heroes"?  It started off with decent energy, but lost its way as the most heroic heroes squandered their potential and became too flawed to function.  As that went on, the show's most villainous villains had themselves more put together than the heroes to the point that the baffled audience no longer knew for whom to cheer.  The show ended quietly, mercifully, as ratings fell along with interest.  On this side of the TV screen, we've likewise been battered with years of ridiculous presidential failures.  Some have been as simple as maligning English and the image of the office.  Others been more blatant machinations like lying to Congress and We the People, having the audacity to question the definition of "is" to avoid answers or engaging in complex criminal activities while investigators and whistleblowers die off in curious ways.  Flaws and shortcomings like these will apparently persist as long as we abide them.  Are they what we want?  We are the ones who've decided to hold people to a lowered standard.

I recently found myself ready to fight over one noted writer's notion that Superman was disliked because of his working-class background while Batman was loved for being a billionaire who beat up poor people, thus representing a wish fulfillment fantasy.  My vehement response included a recommendation that said writer had at the least become a victim of his self-professed drug use and could do far worse than to submit himself for psychiatric evaluation.  If surveyed regarding his opinions, I will obviously choose the "strongly disagree" option.  I don't think we've gone so far afield yet that we've completely lost sight of the "good guys versus bad guys" basics.

In a time when many of us have become more comfortable with celebrating mediocrity and comforting underachievers, however, it seems to be increasingly within reason that we would succumb to this brand of socialism that has us seeking our lowest common denominator.  That's the thing about socialism, though: you can bring everybody down, but you can't lift everyone up.  It seems odd and sad that many of us have given in to weariness, since we have so long held that our reach should exceed our grasp and aspired to better ourselves.  I know, though, that we know better than to merely surrender.  Just as satisfaction comes from achieving our goals, it wears on us to fail.  We have always set that standard of success as having the will to rise that one last time and to never stop striving to be more than we already are.  That's the heroism that blossoms from within us.  It fuels our strength to rise, our courage to be unselfish and our will to face our fears.  It brings none of us down and can lift everyone up.  That is a part of ourselves we must never relinquish or we resign ourselves to always being less than our best.

Oh, sure, a certain level of laziness, settling for less and reclining in comfort holds a basic physical appeal to us.  We need it.  This allows us to enjoy our rest from our efforts and relax.  There's a limit to how much of that we can handle, though.  That's the line where outright sloth begins.  Reaching for more is inherent in our psyche, a basic part of driving us to improve.  Looking at it closely, it still appears to be worth our efforts not to abandon anytime soon.  Daring ourselves to dream means not lowering the bar.  It means finding the strength to fight evils that are indeed evil and not merely misunderstood, just as it means allowing ourselves to feel worthy of heroes who are better, stronger and faster than we are so that we might learn to fly and continue to achieve ever-greater goals.

16324--The Stuff Protagonists' Dreams are Made of...

Protagonists come in a variety of flavors.  They vary depending upon the needs of their tales.  Some are more clean-cut than others.  Some are friendlier than others.  Whatever their natures or personalities, they have to give your readers reasons to stay for the ride from first page to last.  Are they interesting or are they merely fun to follow through interesting situations?  How do they handle problems?  Do they do something brutal, emotional or  thoughtful?  What separates them from being one of the supporting cast?  What's special about them?

One of Batman's strongest traits, be it a flaw or a virtue or some blending thereof, is his relentless obsessiveness.  It isolates him from normal people, making him something of a grim misanthrope.  It is also from there that he gets his drive to stand against the cowardly, superstitious parade of criminals that threaten the peace and his desire to achieve justice at any cost.  Of course, when you're a multi-billionaire, "at any cost" is afforded a high ceiling that can cover a lot of obsession.  An obsessed, wealthy, misanthropic loner with an open-ended mission naturally makes up a few rules for himself to fill in the gaps left by the rules of society he has chosen not to follow.

• If you break it, buy a new one.  It may seem distracting sometimes, but cleaning up after himself keeps his own things properly maintained and promotes public goodwill when he replaces their firebombed cars and such.  Either way, it helps him continue his crusade.
• If bad guys break it, break them.  That falls right in line with his war on crime, so he hardly considers it a distraction.
• Be prepared.  The endless arsenal of useful gear isn't just for show.
• Not announcing your comings and goings makes people nervous.  This keeps people spooked, never sure when he'll be wherever he is, which is great for a protagonist who likes to gather intel from dark places and shadowy people.
• Don't hesitate to be mysterious.  Not answering every question and leaving people to use their imaginations has an effect on other characters and readers alike.  It should make an impression on all of them and make at least some nervous.
• Make people nervous. I'm not saying that clothes alone make the man, but black looks cool on good guys, too. Combined with the whole "mysterious loner" thing...
• Don't play well with others. He is a misanthrope after all, so it's really going to have to fall to others to play well with him, isn't it? Who doesn't like a protag who's strong enough to set his own terms?
• Win hard. Again, it makes an impression.
• Never let them see you sweat...or smile...or laugh... Never let them see your eyes either. When possible, never let them see you. It's a guy thing. In the right places, it has its uses. More generally, referring back to Sun Tzu, don't let others know you (or really see you) and you'll retain a big edge toward attaining victory. This makes the unknowable character appear to have a formidable strength.

Thoughts anyone?