Category Archives: Craft & Skills

Guest Post by Barbara Galler-Smith

I love history. I love perusing artifacts in museums. I love reading books and news bites of cool archaeological discoveries. You name it–if it’s old I am probably interested in it whether it be an old crumbling bit of textile, a 1500 year old castle, or ruins and petroglyphs of a long-gone people. It all has something to say. Most of all, I love trying to puzzle out in some Sherlock Holmesian manner just what it means in terms of people’s lives.

So, when writing a novel, getting ready to write by doing research is half the fun. Some novels require a little research and others a lot. Historical novels usually require a lot.

Only two real “rules” apply to writing historical fiction of any kind, whether it be science fiction, fantasy, alternate history, mainstream, or romantic: Get the history right whenever possible, and use common sense when making up the rest.

Of course you don’t have to build a world–it’s already there just waiting for you to put your characters in it.

Getting the history right isn’t just checking a couple of links on Wikipedia–though that is a start. Good research is complicated and time-consuming. Visit large libraries, especially academic ones which have significant collections of books, research journals, and other support materials. Take advantage of interlibrary loans. Talk to fans of the era. Talk to experts. Experts, in fact, usually love to talk about their subjects, and they are often kind and forthcoming with little known and fascinating facts that almost never make it into the history books.

If you possibly can, go to the place you are writing about. If that’s not possible or practical, look at modern and historic maps. Your local college or university may have a map library that will fill in all those geographical holes for you. Also pick your friends’ brains–someone you know will have been right where you want to place your scene or chapter. Once you get the geography right, you may have to bend it a little to fit the story, but that’s all right–you’re writing a novel, not a factual academic treatise.

Look at old photographs or paintings from the period you are writing about. The style of dress of the people in medieval or renaissance paintings is the style of the times. Note the foods, how the houses are represented, even what the animals look like. Those paintings are a slice of life provided free and detailed by the artist.

In our historical fantasy trilogy, The Druids Saga (Druids, Captives, Warriors), Josh Langston and I had extra problems. We had three cultures to research, one well-documented, the others not. After weeks of investigation on what Romans were like: clothing and footwear, what they ate and drank, their social, economic, political structures, religion(s) and family life, and even their bathing habits–we had to do it all over again, this time for the Celts in non-Roman areas, and then compare and contract that with “civilized” Celts and Celt-Iberians who had been Romanized for over a hundred years.

Then we had to make up the religion practised by the druids of Europe in the 1st century BC. Since we don’t really know exactly what the Gauls believed, we first examined what outsiders like Julius Caesar said about them and what modern archaeology tells us. Then, and most importantly, we looked at ancient practices still alive today, and the rites and rituals that go hand in hand with them. We made one big assumption–people haven’t changed much in 2000 years. Ancient ways remain in areas isolated from the modern world. We reasoned backwards–that if people do certain things now, then it’s likely they did similar things then.

We are still a superstitious and fearful lot. Spirits, ghosts, otherworldly creatures were real to many people back then, too. So, we looked at superstitions. We looked at symbols, signs, and even tattoos. We looked at coming of age ceremonies around the world noting that coming to womanhood and manhood are deeply important moments in a person’s life, and thus throughout history have had many rituals and rites associated with them.

All that research went into a big pot of information which we mined sometimes liberally but more often barely skimmed the surface of it to only add flavour to the narrative. We tried to encompass a broad spectrum of social behaviours, sometimes for colour but mostly to enhance the overall story and make it seem “true”. It all has to seem plausible.

You must do the same. Characters shouldn’t do what is not normal for real people to do.

If you decide to use real events and real people, there is some dispute over whether you can put words in historical figures’ mouths. While others have disagreed and called it disrespectful of the real person, I say go ahead. Just make sure you don’t change what they are known to have said, or make them speak in uncharacteristic ways.

In “Druids”, the first of our trilogy, we lucked out with Quintus Sertorius, a real Roman general. His character and life were outlined neatly for us by the Roman historian Plutarch. Sertorius’ life in Iberia provided a rough outline of how our heroine’s story would go set amidst the unrest at the beginning of the 1st C. BC.

One word of caution, our world view today has changed in ways nearly unimaginable to people who have not been exposed to concepts like civil rights, the sanctity of life, or environmental conservation. Today’s readers would be horrified at “real” history-its filth, superstition, disease, and cost in terms of human suffering. We have only to look at places in the world right now in which brutality is the meal of the day. Right now, enslavement or murder of one ethnic group is only a short airplane ride away–not a millennium or two ago. Fiction, especially genre fiction, set in brutal times or places may not be popular unless filtered through modern sensibilities and made more palatable. Verisimilitude is important. Sticking to the absolute truth in every horrid detail can be too much.

And one last word–we all suffer for our art, but please do not inflict your months of suffering research on unsuspecting readers. They’re just looking for a good story.

“Druids”, “Captives”, and “Warriors” (coming in august 2013) are published by EDGE Science Fiction and Fantasy Publishing. They are available in both paper and electronic versions. http://www.edgewebsite.com/

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Barbara Galler-Smith lives in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. She’s an award winner author, a long-time member of Edmonton’s largest speculative fiction writers group, The Cult of Pain, and co-founder of a group designed for emerging speculative fiction writers called The Scruffies. She’s also a Fiction Editor for On Spec: The Canadian Magazine of the Fantastic. Along with US writer Josh Langston, she’s the author of The Druids Saga– an historical fantasy epic trilogy: Druids (2009), Captives (2011), Warriors (coming August 2013).

Yes, that is a TARDIS on my necklace.

Once Upon a Fairy Tale

March 25, 2013

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Guest Post by Julie Ann Avila

Julie Ann and her garden gargoyle Argyle

So, you’ve decided to dip you quill into the ink pot and try a fairy tale. Now, where the wicked step-mother to start? Ah, at the beginning…

What are fairy tales? Fairy tales are a genre of literature, steeped in the traditions of oral story telling. They are fictional stories with elements of folklore, magic, and fanciful plot courses. Similar fairy tales are found across many cultures, but they tend to take on the unique seasoning of the particular culture in which they are written. Originally, fairy tales were targeted for adults, then children, and now enjoy an audience of both. Fairy tales tend to be more elaborate than fable and more enchanted than parables. And most importantly of all, fairy tales need not feature a fairy.

Why have fairy tales endured? The answer depends on who is doing the interpreting. Some believe fairy tales have staying power because the principle characters are strong Jungian archetypes with adventures dipping into our strongest desires, deepest fears, and shared experiences. Feminists look to fairy tales as a way of understanding gender inequalities, and historians see the tales as ways of preserving a cultural heritage, through custom and legend.

What are the elements common to fairy tales? Ten elements occur throughout classic fairytaledom. Let’s take a look at each one:

1) Special opening and closing words are often found in fairy tales. Beginning with “Once upon a time…” and ending with “…and they lived happily ever after” are common to the genre, but occasionally there are surprise endings.

2) A Goodie is one of the principle characters. This character may be kind, innocent, brave, and/or clever. He or she often helps or is helped by others during the story. The character is often poverty stricken, trying to eke out a living or in the roll of a servant.

3) A Baddie is another principle character. The character may be the wicked step-mother, an evil queen, a witch, a ravenous animal, or someone consumed by greed or power. This character usually loses in the end.

4) A Universal Truth runs through the story. This often relate to common experiences (growing up), shared hopes (to have enough of something vital: food, shelter, love), or universal questions (good versus evil, origin stories).

5) The plot is focused on a problem that needs to be solved. The problem can be a conflict between characters, values, or a quest.

6) The resolution of the problem often demonstrates a value or teaches a lesson. The outcome is important to the culture in which the tale was written. Some examples include kindness over cruelty, humility over pride and simplicity over greed.

7) Magic, enchanted objects (wands, spinning wheels, beans), magical creatures (giants, goblins, trolls) and words (remember Bippity boppity boo?), and talking animals (wolves, pigs, bears) are essential elements to a fairy tale. Magic may be a positive or negative element in the tale.

8) Royalty is another common element to classical fairy tales. Castles, Queens, Kings, Princesses, and Princes are plentiful.

9) Repeated numbers or patterns of events abound. The numbers 3 and 7 are common to many fairy tales; 7 dwarves, 3 pigs, 3 bears, 3 attempts.

10) Common motifs run through many fairy tales. These include tricksters, journeys, riddles, monsters, guardians, quests, sleep states, helper characters, and a setting usually in the past.

Is your quill hovering over the ink pot? Are you wondering if you should bother? Yes, give it a dip! Writing fairy tales is fun, fun, fun! Because we live in a wondrous age far beyond the dreams of Perrault, Andersen, and those grim Grimm Brothers, we NEED modern fairy tales to reflect our cultural reality.

How do go about writing a modern fairy tale? It easy! Let your imagination off its leash and fiddle with all the classical elements. Try a new magical opening and ending. A favorite opening in my fairy tales has been “Once upon a twist in time…”Flip a goodie into a baddie and vice versa. That sweet little girl wasn’t really so innocent.

Look to lesser featured truths. What is the cost of security? Invent new magical systems, enchanted objects, words, and go beyond the talking animal. Technology would be a fun place to investigate. While royalty may be rare, the royal status of celebrity, athletes, and entrepreneurs is quite the cultural rage. Give another number a try. Personally, I love the number five.

While the past was historic, the present is amazing, and the future? Well, the future is anything you can imagine. So, don’t be afraid to leap into a unique setting. A line from one of mine, “Every time the old grey cat meowed, Matilda T. Bartholomew was transported fifty five seconds into the future. It wasn’t until he purred that she could restore her missing time, and PG Grey tips was a very crabby cat.”

What can you add to the collection of common motifs of the genre? I can hardly wait to find out!

***

Julie Ann Avila writes across many genres, but her favorite genre is that of the fairy tale. Her fairy tales have featured time travel, visiting aliens, the Loch Ness Monster, and at least one hundred and five other permutations (even a fairy or two). She lives in Kirkland, Washington with her husband, three children, a very smart dog, a less than interested cat, two chickens, and an upside down goldfish. Life is never dull.

The Magic in Our Stories

March 19, 2013

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Craft & Skills Guest Posts 6 Comments

Guest Post by Tristan Brand

Magic has been a part of our stories since pretty much the beginning.

Homer wrote The Odyssey, a tale full of magical creatures, sorceresses, and vengeful gods, nearly three millennia ago. The Arthurian legend, featuring the great wizard Merlin and King Arthur’s magical sword Excalibur, originated in the dark ages. Five hundred years ago, Shakespeare incorporated magic into plays like A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Magic made an appearance in Wagner’s famous opera Der rings des Nibelungen, a story of a magical ring that drew from the same sources which, a century later, inspired Tolkien to write his masterpiece Lord of the Rings.

Magic’s a powerful tool when it comes to storytelling. When a writer decides to include magic in his story, he needs to understand the implications of whatever type of magic they include. Of course, that’s easier said than done, as there are essentially infinite ways to approach magic.

We can make this infinite sea of possibility a bit more manageable by dividing magic into two categories. In the first category, the laws of magic are as well understood as the laws of physics. In the second category, magic is a mystery; its rules, laws, limitations are left unknown.

Both categories carry their own advantages and potential pitfalls. Fortunately, there are a number of excellent stories representing each category that can be used as examples of how the strongest storytellers use magic.

Brandon Sanderson is a great example of an author whose magic falls into the first category. In his Mistborn series, people called allomancers burn metals within their bodies to give themselves abilities ranging from pulling their bodies towards pieces of metal to affecting the flow of time. Sanderson carefully weaves in information about allomancy into the narrative so that the reader learns its capabilities and limitations, while taking care not to bog the story down with excessive detail.

In crafting allomancy, Sanderson made use of a couple principles (which he often terms his first and second law of magic.) The first is that the author’s ability to use magic to solve conflicts is directly proportional to the reader’s understanding of said magic. The second is that magic must have significant draw-backs to those that use it.

The first law demonstrates the key advantage to using well-understood magic. It allows that magic to become a tool in the author’s tool-box. The second law offers a cautionary point. If the writer creates a magic system that’s too powerful, the reader may at some point wonder why the hero is going through all this trouble

Vin, the protagonist in Mistborn, is a powerful allomancy who routinely uses her ability to solve problems. If the reader didn’t understand allomancy, Vin’s constant use of it to escape danger would seem cheap. If allomancy did not have significant limitations, the reader might wonder why Vin was letting herself get into so much trouble in the first place.

The magic in George R. R. Martin’s epic series A Song of Ice and Fire falls into the second category. Magic appears directly on the page far less than in most fantasy novels, though it’s always lurking in the edges. Undead monsters rise in the North. A summoned shadow assassinates a would-be king. A crippled boy can project his mind into the body of his pet wolf.

If there’s an underlying logic, a set of principles governing what can and cannot happen, Martin keeps it well-hidden from the reader. A key reason this works is that Martin’s magic is just as mysterious to the viewpoint characters as it is to the reader. The mysteriousness of his magic is not an arbitrary choice but rather a consequence of the world he’s created. In this world, the characters fear magic – and the reader learns to fear it as well.

One pitfall to Martin’s approach is that he is far less able to use magic to solve conflicts, a consequence of Sanderson’s first law. But Martin doesn’t need to. The magic in his world serves a different purpose than the magic in Sanderson’s world.

The trait that both Sanderson and Martin’s approaches share is consistency. Magic might break the rules of nature, but it cannot escape logic and consequence entirely. Adding magic into a world irrevocably changes it. Cities, cultures, politics, wars, everything, will be affected in some way. Regardless which approach is chosen, its success will likely be determined by how consistent the author is with their magic’s effect on the world.

Most authors fall in between the two categories. Patrick Rothfuss uses magic called sympathy in his Kingkiller Chronicles, and though the reader is given some rules there are clearly parts left unexplained. The same is true of weaving in Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time or the magic in Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files.

Magic may exist only in our minds, but that doesn’t make it any less real. It’s in our stories, and our stories are part of who we are. They reflect our culture, our history. Through stories, even those about dragons and wizards and talking dogs, allomancers and undead hordes, we constantly explore what it means to be human. By allowing the impossible to play out on the page, we can find insights that considering only the possible would have left undiscovered.

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Tristan Brand is an aspiring fantasy author and technical writer. When he’s not obsessively checking the mail for his long-overdue invitation to wizarding school, he can be found playing StarCraft II, practicing classical piano, or reading a good book. He keeps a blog at www.TristanDBrand.com, does a web-show with his friend called Why We Like It (http://day9.tv/d/b/why-we-like-it/), and can be found on twitter as @TristanDBrand.

What’s In A Genre?

March 18, 2013

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Craft & Skills Guest Posts 1 Comment

Guest Post by Sarah A. Hoyt

So you’ve written a novel – but do you know in what genre?

According to Kris Rusch and Dean Wesley Smith, whom I have no reason to doubt, you probably don’t. The reason for this is simple. We writers tend to work from the idea out. If we have – say – this neat idea where you use a machine to perform magic, we go ahead and write it that way. And then we send it out to agents or editors who are likely to run in circles, screaming. (Well, mine did, when I did just that.)

Genre is largely a marketing category. This means that no story fits it exactly. Take the story idea above, and throw in a hot magical engineer and the girl who loves him. Then have her father murdered for trying to market the machine.

Is that novel science fiction, fantasy, mystery or romance?

The answer is “yes.”

In general all novels, no matter how much they are science fiction have a hint of mystery and some romance. (Okay, some novels from the pulp era didn’t.) There is something that must be solved, and someone the character is attracted to.

What used to happen – in the bad old days when your only choice for publication was traditional houses mostly via agents – is that you’d take the book to your agent, and after she ran in circles, screaming, she might tell you “Look, you’re known as a fantasy writer. Knock off with the machine stuff, and emphasize the magic more.” Or “You’re a romance writer, just pump up the romance and wooing scenes and we’ll sell it as a quirky futuristic romance.”

Of course, sometimes they told you they just didn’t know what to do with it. Or they’d tell you what you thought was military SF was actually YA SF, because at the time it was easier to sell as YA and your character was seventeen.

What about now? Well, now it’s all about the tags. One of the things I’ve noticed, when I put up my back list short stories, is that those I can possibly tag romance (not all shorts have a romance element strong enough to mention!) sell better. But the idea is to tag them or list them with all the genres you think you can get away with. Oh, by all means, tag it for the main idea. For instance, the one above I’d class as fantasy, but then in the description and the tags include the other genres.

As for writing… Well, I tend to write stories as I read them, and I started reading long before I was aware of genres or the idea of genre. I gravitated, mostly, to science fiction and fantasy – but I also read a good bit of mystery because my dad belonged to a mystery book club and it was my sworn duty (I thought) to read every book that came in the house.

I didn’t read Romance until I was in my thirties. Not unless you consider my cousin’s collection of romances, which was in the house and therefore must be read. But those were Portuguese Romances (I was born in Portugal and lived there till 22. My family still lives there. English is my third language, and if you heard me speak you’d believe it. Or maybe not. You’d probably think I was Russian. No I don’t know why. Stop being nosy.) Portuguese Romances all seem to be based on Romeo and Juliet. In the perfect Romance, both die for love, but if you’re very lucky, the girl survives and mourns her boyfriend forever.

Anyway, so by the time I read Romance, I was aware of genre conventions, and how they work, so the book didn’t go against the wall the first time.

See, the thing you have to be aware of, when writing any genre, or tagging the story as a genre, is “genre conventions.”

These are normally invisible to the fan of any given genre, but you do know when they’re violated. They’re simply “the way things are done.” What they do in most cases is get around the awkwardness of telling the story. You know that new machine, in your sf story? You might know how everything works, but you don’t describe it in detail over 40 pages. That’s not the story. You tell us about things it does/is that are relevant to the story. In a Romance, you don’t spend half the book making sure the characters REALLY know one another, before they fall in love. You show instant attraction (usually. Or its polar opposite) and then hints that there’s more in it. In a Mystery, you don’t have the character go “yeah, okay, he’s dead. Big deal. Now, this machine-“ not your main character, at least.

So before you write cross-genre, you need to be aware of what readers of each genre expect. This is best achieved by reading both (all three?) genres you’re crossing, so you’re aware of what the readers expect from each. And hey, once you’re aware of it, you can give the readers special “genre cookies” which will make each of them very happy. For instance, my Darkship Thieves, winner of the Prometheus Award for 2011, has science fiction, romance, and definitely a mystery element. It also happens to be told in the style of Urban Fantasy. The fans of each of these will swear it belongs solely to them. While the Urban Fantasy elements are somewhat mitigated in Darkship Renegades and A Few Good Men, the sequel and not-so-sequel (it’s complicated) it’s still there.

In fact, at this point, I have so many fans from different genres, I have to make sure to put in cookies for all genres every single time.

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Sarah A. Hoyt has sold over 23 novels and 100 short stories in science fiction, fantasy, mystery, horror and romance. She not only couldn’t confine herself to a single genre, but trying might break her permanently. Her science fiction — the Darkship series and the Earth Revolution sister series — and her Shifter series are published by Baen books. Her mystery, historic mystery, romance, historical fantasy, or whatever she might take in her head to write tomorrow, will be available from Goldport Press or Naked Reader Press (mostly and for now).