In Defense of Uncomfortable Subject Matter in Genre Fiction | Flavorwire
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Here’s my problem with ‘strong female leads’…
A phenomona that should be dubbed “the Tauriel Effect”
Even though she wasn’t precisely a lead – I’m still Angry, PJ, dammit.
It’s a forced topic. Everyone now has become so preoccupied with the issue, they forget one of the most important parts of stroy telling: character developement. Or, good character developement, I should say.
My biggest issue: They are fake. They feel so unnaturally forced and overdone that it makes me instinctively hate them – which is kind of counter-productive to the entire point of the “movement”. And I mean that in the very loaded sense of “trend”. It is now the -thing- to push all types of media/entertainment to be concerned, and include, with diversity, gender rols issues and including the “strong female lead” trope that many authors, I feel, fluffing their work with. Extraneous characters that they don’t truely believe in, that they are building on a basis of necessity to include, rather than organically developing the appropriate characters the story needs.
I am currently reading Mage’s Blood by David Hair, and though I have just started, I am already annoyed. I can’t tell if I like it. I’m not sold, but I also cannot simply abandon it, and it is frustrating because I can’t help but wonder if I would be so torn if it weren’t for this Elena character.
If there is a perfect example of a character being forced into the “strong femal lead” role, this is it … well, I’m sure many others, but this is the one slapping me in the face right now, and I’d love to send it flying across the room – but it is that gnat that nags and hovers in your face, but dodges your hit every time you try to smack it away.
Let me tell you, I am so ticked at this gnat right now, I’m about to whip out the fogger.
From the second we learn about this character, it is forced down your throat how much of a bad-ass she is. Beginning from how Gyle insistantly introduces her to Saint Lucia:
“ “Will this woman kill the children, Magister Gyler?”
“She’s a heartless bitch, if you will excuse the term, Holiness.” There, Elena, I’ve made your name known to the Empress-Mother, in the best way possible. Fame at last!” “
To how it is pushed, every, other, grueling line, how she struggles to push away her maternal instincts, and thwart-off the interests/praises of the men, to how she pushes herself in training when we, at last, get to actually meet her. It’s redundantly shoved in your face: Look at me, I’m a badass, I am tough, look how tought I am, I don’t need men, look, I am a badass! Am I a badass yet?
What a cunt! I am so thrilled!
And even though I recognize that those previous quoted lines are written with a hint of cynicism, it is accepted as noteworthy and even impressive!
“ Lucia smiled gleefully. “Excellent! I like her alredy -” “
So, apparently, in order to be strong, and a badass, you must be a cunt. Awesome. Can’t imagine why type of shit is so exhausting to read…
But they don’t need to be so forced. Saint Lucia herself is an unbelievable badass, already, in just a few pages – and it happens all so easily and naturally, without thought or question. But, what a shocker, she is also a cunt!
But the evil-strong have always been easy. And yes, we do love them – as is epitomized by Cersei Lannister and how we drool over her, we love to hate her and for some sadistic reason (that says more about us than Martin’s writing talents) we STILL route for her. And the fact that this, already sinister, Saint Lucia is on the team we’re supposed to be routing for. So yes, we do love them…
But is that it? Do we get no sane, not-evil, stron ladies that don’t seem ungodly forced and pre-built awfulness? Because that’s all we’re going to get so long as people feel the need to include such characters for the sake of pop-culture demand and worry of back-lash.
And that shouldn’t be.
Stories and story-tellers should not be dictated what to write and when and about who and how – that isn’t what makes memorable, or meaningful tales or characters. That kills it – that kills all the magic and stifles muses.
I have no idea if that is how Hair felt as he was writing this book – but that is certaintly of it feels, and is is incredibly off-putting.
I write to tell a story. I don’t take the time to go through the checklist of diversity to make sure I’ve inlcuded the “appropriate” amount of women-to-men ratio, or gays-to-straights, or minorities-to-nonminorities. I just tell the story. That’s it. I put in exactly the amount of WHATEVER characters the story needs. And that’s it. I let the story tell me what it needs and where – Not societal demands and politics.
New Faces for Old Gods – PaganSquare – PaganSquare – Join the conversation!
New Faces for Old Gods – PaganSquare – PaganSquare – Join the conversation!
An interesting, and well written read on a subject very close to my heart. Are modern portrayals and borrowing of ancient dieties creative licensing, or is it diluting their legitimacy?
What do you feel about the matter?
I’ve written myself into a corner…..
…and it feels like I’m beating my brains out to get out of it.
While going through my revisions, and working on re-writes and edits….I made a horrible realization.
I’ve totally jacked up all my timelines. The are generally related to each other in a sense of chronological order. But the reality is – they are not cohesive, or consistent. wtf. How did I do this?
How did I not notice this until just now? The bigger problem is that this particular set-up needs to happen in this way. It sets up so much more to come, in a drastic – even if subtle – way. If I change this particular scene, or act to fit what has already been written, it fucks up everything else to come. It simply will not work. Or, in order to get it to work, seriously alters the plot line as it currently stands. Which I’m not exactly apt to changing at this point. Yes, sometimes it is necessary to take a turn you did not initially plan for, but this isn’t one of those times without changing the impact of the story as a whole, and basically puts me in a stalemate with myself or my story telling. Which means there is only one option : go back and fix all the previous written time-line.
…all that work I just finished.
*FACEDESK*
One step forward….ten steps back ? uhg.
SOME PROGRESS IS BETTER THAN NO PROGRESS
I just have to keep telling myself that.
In a funk
I’m having issues getting past a writing funk. Everything was going good, and going strong – and it felt really good, and then it all just hit a brick wall.
I’m not quite sure what to do to get the muses going again.
Should I just not worry about taking an extended break from it ?
Should I do more research to try to jump it back into action ?
Should I read some to get my head away from it, but still stay in a fantasy-mindset. ?
Late to the bandwagon…
SO.
I’ve finally started reading Game of Thrones. Yes yes, I know, I hear you. I’ve been a bit busy, ok?
But anyhoo – Yes, I’ve finally started legitimately reading it….and….
I’m not really liking it so far :/
I haven’t gotten far enough in to really have any say-so over the story or plot line itself…..but the writing??
not my favorite writing.
I get irritated at the overly abundant “he said”
“she said” "said so-n-so insert adjective" “So-n-so said” after.
every.
single.
god damn.
line.
DUDE. if you have to repeatedly tell me 20 times who said what when you only have SO many people talking…….somethings wrong. -OR- when you have to REPEATEDLY tell me who said what when to whom because you have THAT many people talking at once – maybe you just shouldn’t have so many people talking at one time?? Or maybe you should set up your scenes better so we can tell who would be saying what when without having to blatantly spell it out like a first-grade picture book so many god damn times.
This is incredibly frustrating, and it’s really disappointing because I have enjoyed the show so much – and I really *want* to like it.
Plus, everyone, e v e r y o n e told me ‘oh, if you like crown of stars, you should read a song of ice and fire – you’ll love it!’ really got me way too psyched up for this, because holy shit – *I LOVE CROWN OF STARS*
so I was all ready to be sucked into another plethora-long series of epic fantasy awesomeness.
On a side note though, it makes me feel a lot better about my own writing, because I don’t feel so different, or so inexperienced or like what I’m writing is actually so horrible ;p
I’m going to keep on going and see if the writing style eases up enough for me to actually get into it. I would hate not being able to get into a good story just because of some writing quirks
The shit they don’t tell you about writing….
Editing.
fucking.
sucks.
I love, love, love, love writing.
LOVE IT. I am at the heart of me – a storyteller. Point blank. People have always identified me as an artist (which is true!) because that’s the obvious answer : She likes to draw, she likes to create, she’s an artist!
But that’s not the truth. I do draw, and create. And I’m pretty damn good at it, and I rather enjoy it…..but that is means to an end. I draw, because it’s an easy, straight forward way to convey what’s in my head.
I tried freelancing, and I wanted to shoot myself in the foot. Or stab that damn pencil right through my eye. Or hand….because at least that meant I had a legit reason to NOT do this horrid ass piece that I utterly hate…..oh, no, wait. I’ve already been paid….and that money already spent. so there IS NO BACKING OUT,
It was a prison. A horrible, bleak, tormenting prison full of horrid ideology and bad taste…..I kept on thinking to myself : shouldn’t this be the ultimate dream? Getting *paid* to do what you love ? Making a living (sorta) doing art?? Then it turned into guilt because If I was a *real* artist, shouldn’t I love doing art no matter what??
And maybe for many people that’s true, and for many other legit artists it’s not true, and everything in between. But those questions made me stop and think. And then I realized : No. I’m not an artist. I’m a storyteller.
It didn’t matter WHAT on earth I was writing about, I could get lost in it. I could get stuck in it. I could research for hours, and just clack away for hours and lose track of time completely, and come out with something in the end that was compelling, and impressive, and made people think, and made me shine and gleam and giddy with pride.
It didn’t matter WHAT it was. I loved it. I loved it. I loved it….
*that* is what I could do, no matter what, and be happy. That is what made me so happy about my art : it was *my* art. I loved drawing for *me* not for other people, because what I drew was still a story – it was just a visual story. It was still compelling, and emotional, they were characters – they were worlds – they were artifacts and relics of a vision of a feeling of a time, and they drew a breath and life of their own…..because they were a story. Someone’s disgusting idea for a logo is not a story. It could be. But it never was, because clients are retarded horrible things that have no idea what they want, except for the fact that it will be uninspired, uncreative, wretched bad taste and chock full of cliche and cliche after cliche. Which is hard to turn it into a story. Even though it *should* be a story : it should be their story, of their venture. But…nope….
That’s what killed it. And then I realized – I could never, ever, do that…ever again. That was the wrong plan. That was the wrong goal. That’s why I was so miserable, that’s why I could never make any money, because I avoided commissions like the plague. I would never search them out – I would wait for them to come to me. Which was enough to scrape by….but I wasn’t *active* in that path. I just sat and waited, and cringed when something came along, and trudged through it just because I knew we had bills to pay.
That is horrid. That is miserable. Don’t ever – EVER do that!
So I stopped, and I started focussing 100% back on my writing again…….which I had taken a long break from to try to ‘pay the bills’ just making myself miserable. I quit my job. Got a new, regular “day job” with regular hours, and regular pay – nothing thrilling or exciting, but nothing horrible or miserable. I like it, I enjoy it, I have freedom with it. Which meant I could focus on *my* stuff too, and still have time with the family. Things moved along slowly, but surely – as they still are now. And life. is. so. happy.
I bitch a lot. I complain a lot. I’m a rambler, and a venter, and a ….well, a story teller! So I have a lot of nothing to say – a lot. All the time.
But truth be told : life is fucking awesome. I am lucky. I haven’t hit it big, so to speak, but that’s alright. I’m making it – *and* i get to do what i love, and if I just keep at then, then I know I will ‘hit it big’ whatever my big may be, and it’ll all be worth it.
And that’s the beautiful dream, the awesome inspirational soul searching that everyone hopes for when they pack up and move out to the big city, or graduate college, or whatever your milestone is.
…..but they don’t tell you about fucking editing.
Sure, they do. But not what you think. I mean, of course – everyone *knows* you that editing and revisions come with the job. That’s par for the course…..but no one actually tells you: You’re gonna wanna shoot yourself in the foot. Or stab yourself in the eye. Or the hand, because then you’d have a legit excuse as to why you cant type. Oh, no but wait! They have that stupid Dragon program now, so you don’t have a reason to need your hand….
So much procrastination. So much lack of motivation, but it’s absolutely horrible. But, strangely – even though it’s all the exact same things I hated about freelance arting…..my soul isn’t dying every time I do it. It’s a different type of hate, it’s a different type of misery. It’s turned into from just pure torture, to a labor of love.
But god damn it. I fucking hate it. I get so excited about my story – I get so thrilled, and giddy like a lil child when Things develop a certain way that I didn’t necessarily see coming – it just all fell into place. Its unbelievable when that happens! And the world is awesome, and life is awesome and everything is Awesome!!!
……oh. No. Wait……..i don’t get to continue on just yet, because I have to get through THIS shit first.
uuuuhhhhhhgggggggggg.
Or maybe I’d like to draw and illustration to the book today, omg, that scene when this happened would be so epic!
….oh. No. Wait…….I can’t do that, because I have to finish THIS shit before I take a break.
uuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhggggggggggggggggg.
Plus, throw in there the fact that 1 – I’m dyslexic and 2 – cant spell for shit. I don’t even know if I’m doing it right! wtf is that word? What did I mean to say there? Do I even know how to spell that? I don’t know how to spell that…..but it’s so wrong that Google doesn’t even have a suggestion. Wtf is that? What did I do ??
And that’s just one line. Also, because I’m lucky to type really…..really….fast. My dyslexic brain can’t keep up, so sometimes I skip entire sentences….entire lines….sometimes whole thoughts in paragraphs because everything gets jumbled and my brain literally cant keep up with my hands so it just skips forward to where it thinks it needs to be. And that also means on the other hand, my hands type so fucking fast that they just basically transcribe every second of random thought that flies through my brain. So sometimes I just jump off on a tangent somewhere, and I have no idea what point I was trying to get across because I just…skipped past it onto a totally different thought.
what??
What is that? where did it come from?
Where did that other thing go? Oh, no clue? Me neither…
And I pretty much have to start that all over because I don’t even know what I was trying to do there. And then I get confused, and then I lose my mojo, and then I get un-excited, and then I end up wanting netflix instead of this crap, and then I end up procrastinating this crap while thinking very hard about that movie I’ve been waiting to watch for three weeks, and then I have to go pee, and then when I come back I decide it’s an awesome time for a snack, and then I need something to veg too while I snack, so then I turn on the tv and
HOLY FUCK. I’m late picking up Sky.
Where’d the day go ??
and then there goes all my productivity time for the day….and then my brain just kind goes
“….meh…” *shrugs* because I didn’t *really* wanna do that anyway, so no biggie.
But then later when you open up your file and realize that nothing has changed in 2 weeks, you hate yourself. You utterly hate yourself,
I’m such a lazy bitch, what the fuck am I doing with my life, nothing will ever happen if I don’t make it happen – beat yourself up, bully-coach break down motivational crap, get psyched up, I’m gonna do this – no matter what, I’m just gonna tough it out and do it!
*open up file*
……..uuuhhhhhhhhhhgggggg.
Ooo. There’s a House marathon on….
PS. I’m very excited that ‘i hate editing’ is such a popular tag, that all I had to type in was ‘i h’.
Yes.