It doesn’t ring true in the slightest because it’s trying to force a situation that can’t happen organically.
The Critical Drinker
I took a rather extended pause on continuing work for my next novel, Catalyst, after NaNoWriMo 2021 came to a close. This was due to several factors – I was a little burned out on it after the blitz that it was, I had contract writing coming up, my 9-5 was picking up steam, and I wanted to put additional effort into finding beta readers for my current novel, Residuum. I expected the pause to be somewhere around a month or two, but true to form it’s been almost half a year and I haven’t looked back. Or at least, I hadn’t until a couple of weeks ago.
Rather than jump right back into the deep end, I wanted to give the existing work a look over and see if I was on the right track. In the past this would have led to me comparing it to what I had planned to write and going from there, but I’ve started listening to and reading some compelling creators on the flaws in modern storytelling, and I wanted to give that same critical eye to my own work. Rather than make any grand gestures, sweeping changes for the sake of them, or curtailing the plot to modern trends, I took the simpler route.
I asked myself why.
A lot.
I’ve been bothered by the storytelling in a good portion of modern media. It took me a while to put a finger on why, but a bit of thought found purchase and since then it’s been a bit like peeling off old paint. There’s a lot to it, and a lot of major portions I could get into, but the best place to start comes in at the “why.” Namely, so many decisions make no sense. More and more it seems that we, the audience, are expected not to ask this question. That we’re asked to turn off our brains, consume the flashing lights, and let that be enough.
I don’t want that to be enough. Not for what I’m watching, and certainly not for what I’m creating. And, so, I started to ask. I asked the plot as a whole. I asked the character arcs and the characters themselves. I even asked the setting. That’s the joy of being a writer – or any creator, I suppose – I get to ask landscape questions and it answers.
Anyway, the answers I got were… I won’t say discouraging, because that’s not right. They were illuminating. The major concepts, the ones that bridge the whole of the planned series, were sound. However, our first peek into the story was sitting on shaky ground. One of the three protagonists had what ended up being a perfectly serviceable arc that fit with what the story was expected to be, but the other two broke down quickly after pressing the Why.
Now, if I was a hack, I could ignore this and press forward. I could think less of my potential readers and expect them not to notice, not to ask themselves why or hope that they just accept things as they are. But I can’t do that, so I had to run back to the drawing board and ask myself why at every stage of building out this plot and these arcs.
And let me tell you, I’m glad I did. These people are believable now. Their motivations make sense. Their conflicts coincide and drive things toward a believable resolution. Imagine that. It’s a story of ambition, desire, and power. Of fear and the unknown. One that I’m excited to begin again and, I hope, one you’ll be excited to read.
Why? Because all the best stories are driven by characters. Believable ones. Relatable ones. At last, Jennen, Lance, and Yanis are ready. And so am I.
Themeattics 