Major Charlie Shea, as I described yesterday, is an interesting character with all his quirks and foibles. But what I was most interested by was the archetype that he represents.
Major Charlie is a bystander. In a world with heroes seeking adventure, he was a peasant that paid no mind.
He is the kind of character that stories aren't written about.
To spend pages talking about Major Charlie would waste a reader's time. He has nothing to do with the actual story. The closest he comes is running into the main characters by happenstance, and not even realizing they are main characters.
And yet, there is still something compelling about him. Maybe it's because he is just a bystander. His view on the world and its events is far different. It's normal. It's realistic. It's human. And although the audience may see the bystander archetype as simple-minded or foolish or ignorant, we are more likely to end up in that position than any other.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Monday, May 6, 2013
Major Charlie Shea - The Character
In one of the role playing games I ran, one of my friends made a character named Major Charlie Shea. He was a middle-aged man, pretty simple, and pretty humble. He had been diagnosed with cancer, but was at the stage of acceptance. For him, he knew he didn't have much time left, but he was about to start treatment and he wanted to learn what he could about the human body; it gave him comfort.
Major Charlie was an interesting to character to work with. In a sense, he was a reluctant hero. He didn't act foolhardy and wasn't unnecessarily brave. If things didn't involve him, he didn't stick his nose in it. In my friend's words, "Major Charlie wasn't going to find the story. The story had to find Major Charlie."
Now, I was telling a horror game that involved cults and eldritch abominations and a very motley crew trying to stop them. In the end of the story, the cultists were stopped, and every single player died.
Actually, everybody died except for Major Charlie. And that's because he wasn't present for the final showdown. He was walking to his house. Major Charlie was such a reluctant hero that he never answered the call to action. Nothing for him was serious enough for him to notice or care. And since he wasn't looking for trouble, he didn't find any.
I kind of liked Major Charlie. He amused me in the sense that he was the only rational person in the lot, and he just so happened to be the only person who lived through the game.
I hope I get to see more of him in the future.
Major Charlie was an interesting to character to work with. In a sense, he was a reluctant hero. He didn't act foolhardy and wasn't unnecessarily brave. If things didn't involve him, he didn't stick his nose in it. In my friend's words, "Major Charlie wasn't going to find the story. The story had to find Major Charlie."
Now, I was telling a horror game that involved cults and eldritch abominations and a very motley crew trying to stop them. In the end of the story, the cultists were stopped, and every single player died.
Actually, everybody died except for Major Charlie. And that's because he wasn't present for the final showdown. He was walking to his house. Major Charlie was such a reluctant hero that he never answered the call to action. Nothing for him was serious enough for him to notice or care. And since he wasn't looking for trouble, he didn't find any.
I kind of liked Major Charlie. He amused me in the sense that he was the only rational person in the lot, and he just so happened to be the only person who lived through the game.
I hope I get to see more of him in the future.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Star-Crossed Lovers
Romeo & Juliet is not my favorite story. I find it not the most compelling romance, with not the most compelling characters, but it does have one strong aspect that I appreciate: It introduced me to the phrase "star-crossed lovers".
I vehemently despise stories where characters struggle with problems of their own making. For example, when a woman is afraid that her husband is cheating on her, and rather than just talk to him, she follows him for one afternoon, and makes a bunch of half-assed assumptions based on her observations. And then rather than confront him or simply leave him, she decides to have an affair with his best friend. And then she finds out that her assumptions were wrong, and has to deal with the guilt and misery which she brought upon herself by acting like a child.
The idea of star-crossed lovers comes from astrology. If your star sign and another person's signs are in alignment, you will get along well, and if they are not in alignment, then you will not get along. With Romeo and Juliet, their signs are crossed, which means that they are in alignment (hence their passionate love), but something is interfering with it working out properly (namely, their respective families).
Now, arguably, Romeo & Juliet does have a certain amount of tragedy that comes from miscommunication or a lack of confidence, but by and large, the greatest obstacles to their romance were everything outside of the two lovers.
In this respect, it is an incredibly compelling story. It addresses one of the harshest realities imaginable: even if you do everything right, even if you are a good person and doing the best possible thing, you can still get thoroughly screwed over.
That is a concept which can be viewed in many lenses. We can ask a number of questions about it, like "Are you sure that's true?" "Why should we even bother trying?" "What do we do after we get screwed over?" "Who exactly is screwing us?"
To ask those questions through our stories, we may find ourselves coming up with quite different answers to all of those questions. We may also find deeper questions to ask, as well.
Ultimately, though, these are the more important stories to tell. They are the ones we need to contemplate and address. Because if fate simultaneously sets us up and knocks us down, the human mind cannot and will not accept that. But if fate has nothing to do with these circumstances, then there ought to be a way to overcome those obstacles. Is there always a way, though?
I vehemently despise stories where characters struggle with problems of their own making. For example, when a woman is afraid that her husband is cheating on her, and rather than just talk to him, she follows him for one afternoon, and makes a bunch of half-assed assumptions based on her observations. And then rather than confront him or simply leave him, she decides to have an affair with his best friend. And then she finds out that her assumptions were wrong, and has to deal with the guilt and misery which she brought upon herself by acting like a child.
The idea of star-crossed lovers comes from astrology. If your star sign and another person's signs are in alignment, you will get along well, and if they are not in alignment, then you will not get along. With Romeo and Juliet, their signs are crossed, which means that they are in alignment (hence their passionate love), but something is interfering with it working out properly (namely, their respective families).
Now, arguably, Romeo & Juliet does have a certain amount of tragedy that comes from miscommunication or a lack of confidence, but by and large, the greatest obstacles to their romance were everything outside of the two lovers.
In this respect, it is an incredibly compelling story. It addresses one of the harshest realities imaginable: even if you do everything right, even if you are a good person and doing the best possible thing, you can still get thoroughly screwed over.
That is a concept which can be viewed in many lenses. We can ask a number of questions about it, like "Are you sure that's true?" "Why should we even bother trying?" "What do we do after we get screwed over?" "Who exactly is screwing us?"
To ask those questions through our stories, we may find ourselves coming up with quite different answers to all of those questions. We may also find deeper questions to ask, as well.
Ultimately, though, these are the more important stories to tell. They are the ones we need to contemplate and address. Because if fate simultaneously sets us up and knocks us down, the human mind cannot and will not accept that. But if fate has nothing to do with these circumstances, then there ought to be a way to overcome those obstacles. Is there always a way, though?
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Non-Philosophical Narrators
I find it strange when a protagonist is an awkward, shy kid who stumbles over their words, yet when they narrate, they are unerringly eloquent and deeply philosophical. It's like characters aren't allowed to narrate their own story unless they're constantly reflecting.
Now, I perfectly well understand that these kinds of people do exist. I know that some people are uncomfortable talking around others, but are constantly looking around, taking it all in, and thinking deep questions. I also know that these people easily find themselves becoming authors, so they write what they know (themselves). But I'm also pretty certain that other kinds of people exist, too.
The impulsive kinds of people exist. The shallow thinkers exist. I've met plenty of people who either exclusively live in the moment or simply don't have enough brain cells to get particularly existential.
I want some non-philosophical narrators. I want to read a story where the main character stares into space and nothing happens, where he does drugs and says that it was awesome or messed up, but doesn't paint a vivid picture when describing it. I want a narrator who tells you all the stuff that happens, but isn't searching for meaning or connecting dots, just living and narrating.
It could end up being terrible. But I still think it would be worth trying, if nothing else, simply because it's different.
Now, I perfectly well understand that these kinds of people do exist. I know that some people are uncomfortable talking around others, but are constantly looking around, taking it all in, and thinking deep questions. I also know that these people easily find themselves becoming authors, so they write what they know (themselves). But I'm also pretty certain that other kinds of people exist, too.
The impulsive kinds of people exist. The shallow thinkers exist. I've met plenty of people who either exclusively live in the moment or simply don't have enough brain cells to get particularly existential.
I want some non-philosophical narrators. I want to read a story where the main character stares into space and nothing happens, where he does drugs and says that it was awesome or messed up, but doesn't paint a vivid picture when describing it. I want a narrator who tells you all the stuff that happens, but isn't searching for meaning or connecting dots, just living and narrating.
It could end up being terrible. But I still think it would be worth trying, if nothing else, simply because it's different.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Increasing Piles Of Digital Files
I still believe in using paper and electronic media in writing. Paper allows me to feel my nascent ideas and develop them organically. Digital allows me to write down my ideas as quickly as they come to my mind.
Both of them have detractions, too. Aside from the fact that paper and computer can't do what the other succeeds at, they also have frustrations.
Paper takes up space. The more you write down, the more physical space you need to store it all. This problem, though, is not exclusive to paper.
Digital files take up space. Granted, in these days, you don't usually have to worry about running out of space, but you do need to be organized. If you use documents the way you use scraps of paper, writing down notes or ideas as they come to you, and saving them for another time, you will be overrun with them.
My computer and my phone are being filled with increasing piles of digital files. When it gets to be too much, I consolidate the similar ideas and give each collection a home. I can breathe deeper and sleep better once the clutter is taken care of, and this is just as true of electronic formats as it is for physical ones.
Both of them have detractions, too. Aside from the fact that paper and computer can't do what the other succeeds at, they also have frustrations.
Paper takes up space. The more you write down, the more physical space you need to store it all. This problem, though, is not exclusive to paper.
Digital files take up space. Granted, in these days, you don't usually have to worry about running out of space, but you do need to be organized. If you use documents the way you use scraps of paper, writing down notes or ideas as they come to you, and saving them for another time, you will be overrun with them.
My computer and my phone are being filled with increasing piles of digital files. When it gets to be too much, I consolidate the similar ideas and give each collection a home. I can breathe deeper and sleep better once the clutter is taken care of, and this is just as true of electronic formats as it is for physical ones.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Long Form Stories
Following from my previous post on short form stories, the long form story is basically the exact opposite. They are stories which make you care about the characters and locations involved.
Despite having a preference for writing short form stories, I appreciate the long form. When I read a good novel, I feel like I'm there. I'm not analyzing motives and symbols and such; I'm sitting around with the characters, watching everything happen. I share their plans and run with them in fields. I may not know who they are inside and out, but I know they are real people.
When you've spent 133 pages getting to know and meet and coming to really love a character, you want to weep when they die. You feel the same sadness at their funeral as the characters do, and you wish as much as they do that it didn't happen.
Long form stories also allow you to create lore. With so much time and so many experiences that happen, the readers can get a feel for how large an area the whole story takes place in, how many players are really involved, and how everything that happens can affect everything else.
The deepness you can achieve in getting to know characters and the places they live in allows a richness in long form stories that you simply cannot achieve in 5 pages. Ultimately, it is up to you to decide which style is more useful for conveying to the audience what you are wanting to say.
Despite having a preference for writing short form stories, I appreciate the long form. When I read a good novel, I feel like I'm there. I'm not analyzing motives and symbols and such; I'm sitting around with the characters, watching everything happen. I share their plans and run with them in fields. I may not know who they are inside and out, but I know they are real people.
When you've spent 133 pages getting to know and meet and coming to really love a character, you want to weep when they die. You feel the same sadness at their funeral as the characters do, and you wish as much as they do that it didn't happen.
Long form stories also allow you to create lore. With so much time and so many experiences that happen, the readers can get a feel for how large an area the whole story takes place in, how many players are really involved, and how everything that happens can affect everything else.
The deepness you can achieve in getting to know characters and the places they live in allows a richness in long form stories that you simply cannot achieve in 5 pages. Ultimately, it is up to you to decide which style is more useful for conveying to the audience what you are wanting to say.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Short Form Stories
I finally have been able to put into words the difference between short form and long form stories. To start with definitions, I will call a short-form story anything that is five pages or less. Of course, there are the usual exceptions (e.g. what about 6- or 7-page stories?), but use five pages as a benchmark.
Now, short stories tend to work great for comedy. We see comic strips, sketch comedy, 30-minute sitcoms as opposed to 60-minute dramas. Short form just lends itself to humor, but why?
The kinds of comedy in short stories are situational. It's based on the premise created at the beginning. A short story about a translator for a courthouse who mistranslates what people say is funny, regardless of who these people are. Again, the situation is comical; the premise is comical.
Short form stories do not need to be funny, though. You could have a very tragic story about a man going to his son's funeral. You could have the whole story not even go into depth about who these people are or what happened. The story will be tragic because the situation is tragic.
From here, the pattern emerges. Short form stories are stories about a premise, not a person. Characters will be involved, but we do not probe their psyche, nor study their life story. Because of the limited space we have, we must jump straight into the story and trust that people will relate to it because the experience is relatable.
I want to be clear that this is not a judgement of short form stories. I actually love short stories and more often than not, it's what I write. I like situations. When I read them, I like filling in the gaps based on context clues and letting my imagination try to answer the rest of my questions. I love jumping into the experience and just riding that wave.
However, it is simply a different experience from long form storytelling. If you find yourself with an idea for a story and not being sure how long it should be, ask yourself if the story is about the character or the situation. Then you will have the beginning of your answer.
Now, short stories tend to work great for comedy. We see comic strips, sketch comedy, 30-minute sitcoms as opposed to 60-minute dramas. Short form just lends itself to humor, but why?
The kinds of comedy in short stories are situational. It's based on the premise created at the beginning. A short story about a translator for a courthouse who mistranslates what people say is funny, regardless of who these people are. Again, the situation is comical; the premise is comical.
Short form stories do not need to be funny, though. You could have a very tragic story about a man going to his son's funeral. You could have the whole story not even go into depth about who these people are or what happened. The story will be tragic because the situation is tragic.
From here, the pattern emerges. Short form stories are stories about a premise, not a person. Characters will be involved, but we do not probe their psyche, nor study their life story. Because of the limited space we have, we must jump straight into the story and trust that people will relate to it because the experience is relatable.
I want to be clear that this is not a judgement of short form stories. I actually love short stories and more often than not, it's what I write. I like situations. When I read them, I like filling in the gaps based on context clues and letting my imagination try to answer the rest of my questions. I love jumping into the experience and just riding that wave.
However, it is simply a different experience from long form storytelling. If you find yourself with an idea for a story and not being sure how long it should be, ask yourself if the story is about the character or the situation. Then you will have the beginning of your answer.
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