Category Archives: The Fictorians

The Devil is in the Details

Character Karen Pellett Movies Science Fiction Setting and Milieu Storyline The Writing Life World-building No Comments

A Guest Post by Karen Pellett

What makes a great story? For me it is the details. A story is the sum of its parts. It is an amalgamation of plot, character, dialogue and imagination, but it all comes down to the little details of each segment as to whether or not a story is truly compelling or memorable for me.

starwars1What details do we remember most about Star Wars movie legacy? Is it how frustrating Jar Jar Binks is for some? Is it the loss of innocence when Anakin chooses the Dark Side of the Force? Is it the pivotal, “I am your Father!” moment between Luke and Vadar? For me it’s the relationship between memorable characters, the lack of consistency in plot, all twisted with its brilliant humor and dialogue. Perplexed?

So am I.

I LOVE Star Wars, and yet at the same time I am really frustrated by it. As a burgeoning author it frustrates me beyond Hades that plot gaps punctuate the story line left and right. For example, in Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005) we see the death of Padme Amidala Skywalker from heartbreak shortly after the birth of her babes, Luke & Leia.

Later, in Episode VI: Return of the Jedi (1983), as Luke is about to leave Leia with the Ewoks to go in search of Vadar he asks Leia is she remembers her mother, her real mother. Leia responds that her mother died when she was very young, but she was “very beautiful. Kind, but…sad.”

It is the little inconsistencies and plot gaps like this one that make Star Wars iffy in my book when it comes to great storytelling. However, the impeccable world creation, complex casts of characters, dialogue interplay and down-right humor and quotable quotes that act as a counterbalance, thus bringing me back time and time again to soak myself in its brilliance.

Now I adore Star Wars, but I am Doctor Who geek for life.

As I child I would sneak out of my bed at night to lie on the floor to peak around the living room couch to watch the classic episodes with my father. I wasn’t supposed to, but he never sent me back to bed until the episodes were over.

I have found memories of Tom Baker (#4) with his fabulous six foot scarf and Jelly Babies, Peter Davidson (#5) and his stalk of celery for identifying radiation leaks and his many, intriguing companions (most importantly, K-9, the sarcastic robot canine companion).

Sure the props seemed made of cardboard and dryer vent pipes, but the concept of the Daleks, the Cybermen and so many other villains, captured my young mind and wouldn’t let go. It was with eager anticipation that I watched the reinvention of Time & Space with Christopher Eccelston’s (#9) version of the Doctor in 2009.

With Eccleston, as well as with each regeneration since, I was hesitant at first to accept the new Doctor and their inherent catch phrase. I was also hesitant with the shift from more science fiction to science drama when it came to so many of the female companions falling in love with their Doctor.

Then I met Donna Noble. She is my penultimate idea of a Doctor Who companion—feisty, brilliant, empathetic, with a desperate need to believe more in herself, but willing to see the good in others, excited learn and to explore, and in it for the friendship of a lifetime. She was the modern-day equivalent of Elisabeth Sladen’s character, Mary Jane Smith. So once again, I find myself compelled, even drawn to a story/series that had its weaknesses, but the complexity of the details, the humor, and the interplay between characters made it come alive.

So what makes great storytelling? It may be different for each and everyone one of us. Our take on books is subjugated by our experiences, our emotions. For me, I am drawn back time and time again to those stories that show me who a character is as a person. It is the details of their lives—their sense of humor, their faults, how they choose to react with others and their world—that make them come alive. And if they are alive, then they are a part of me.

Yes, plot and character growth matter; there is no story without them. But what makes the story compelling is the details that make up who those people are. The devil or God (depending if you’re the antagonist or protagonist) is in the very details of their lives.

Karen Pellett:

Karen Pellett is a crazy woman with a computer, and she’s not afraid to use it. Most of her time is spent between raising three overly brilliant and stinkin’ cute children, playing video games with her stepsons, and the rare peaceful moment with her husband. When opportunity provides she escapes to the alternate dimension to write fantasy & magical realism novels, the occasional short story, and essays on raising special needs children. Karen lives, plots & writes in American Fork, Utah.

Serialization: Pros and Pitfalls

Gregory D. Little Plot Structure Reader Investment & Empathy No Comments

As I work on the sequel to Unwilling Souls, I find myself having to confront the question of serialization versus episodic storytelling. My admission up front: I love serialized stories. Aside from sitcoms, I don’t really watch any television that doesn’t feature at least some element of serialization. While I realize there’s a certain comfort to be had in procedurals or episodic series, they will never be my first choice, precisely for that reason. Very little ever changes.

The idea that each installment of a story builds into something greater has always appealed to me. And in today’s age of serialized TV and prestige series, it’s hard to remember there was ever anything else. But networks used to look down on serialized storytelling. And if you do a little digging, it’s not hard to see why. In this post, I’ll take you through three series’ attempts at serialization across a couple of different timeframes, what worked about it and what didn’t.

The X-Files: You might call this a proto-serialized drama, or at least a drama with a central mystery at its core. For cave-dwellers or young people, the X-Files featured FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully assigned to solve the paranormal cases the FBI normally tried to downplay or ignore. Most episodes fell into a sort of “monster of the week” episodic pattern. But several times each season, including the beginning and the end, the series’ overarching story would come to the forefront: that of Mulder’s obsessive quest to uncover the truth behind alien abductions and the government’s cover-up, including the abduction of his sister when they were both children. Early on the series’ run, I (and most) enjoyed the “monster of the week” episodes but really looked forward to the alien storyline, eagerly awaiting each new installment’s advancement of the central mystery.

As the series aged, however, it became more and more apparent that the showrunners didn’t have an overall plan for the mystery, and were just dragging it out as long as possible, allowing it to grow more and more elaborate and nonsensical. By the time the lead actors were bowing out of the show save for guest appearances, it was the monster of the week episodes that still maintained a semblance of quality, while the serialized overarching story had become a mess that would obviously never reach a satisfactory conclusion. That’s the major advantage episodic TV will always have over serial TV. Each installment has a beginning a middle and an end, all neatly contained in an hour of the viewer’s time. Serialized stories have to work extra hard to give installments the feel of a miniature story arc while simultaneously advancing the overarching plot. It adds a dimension of complexity to the writing.

The X-Files finale was all but incomprehensible, and while the recent short 10th season proved the actors still bring chemistry to their characters, the alien storyline remains as opaque as ever. Ultimately, the X-Files serves as a cautionary tale to future shows about being careful with open-ended mysteries. The lesson of the X-Files: A mysterious series mythos requires, if not exact planning to the last detail, at least some forethought unless you are a virtuoso of retconning.

Lost: Though this isn’t in chronological order, The X-FIles leads us naturally into Lost, the show that learned the most from the X-Files. Lost begins with a plane crash which a seemingly miraculous number of people survive. The tropical island onto which they’ve crashed is filled with all kinds of strange, wondrous and terrifying things, like polar bears, mysterious hatches buried in the jungle, and the eerie people already living on the island, creepily known only as the Others. Like its spiritual predecessor, Lost builds its show around a central mystery: What is the Island? Unlike the X-Files, while there are episodes that don’t advance the main plot, quite a few of them in the first three seasons, nearly every episode takes place on the island itself, so there’s no forgetting the main, serialized plot.

Lost’s first season was utterly captivating, introducing us to the characters by giving each one or more episodes focused on them and their backstory while simultaneously advancing the plot. The problems didn’t really arise until Season 2 and then, even more, Season 3. It turns out that the show-runners (the show was conceived by All-SFF Team Producer J.J. Abrams but he was not involved beyond the pilot episode) did not have any more idea where the story was going than the creator of the X-Files did or, perhaps more importantly, how long they would have to stall giving out answers to their mysteries. But they learned from history.

By the time the third season was floundering in stall-tactics designed to drag out the mysteries toward an unknown series end date, the producers made the bold decision of approaching the network with a proposal to last three more 16 episode seasons and then end. Given the fact that the show was a ratings juggernaut, give props to ABC for agreeing to the schedule. From that moment on Lost became much more focused and fast-paced. Gone were the stalling episodes of Jack getting a tattoo. Each episode now drove the plot inexorably forward, and though the ending of the series was controversial to many, no one can deny that it was an ending. The lesson? If you’re telling a serialized story, plan for it to have a beginning, middle and end so that you pace correctly.

Battlestar Galactica (2004 Reboot): Speaking of controversial endings, BSG was heavily serialized from beginning to end, almost without exception. Rare was an episode that could be called truly standalone. Like Lost before it, the show was built around a relatively simple premise. The Cylons (human-hating robots, some of which are indistinguishable from humans) have destroyed human civilization in retaliation for decades-old mistreatment, and the entire remains of the human race comprise rag-tag fleet of spacecraft looking for the last habitable world in their records: the mythical colony of Earth.

From the beginning of the show, things like resource conservation, the problem of governance when your entire governmental apparatus is destroyed, and “the enemy within” became staple elements of the show’s plot. Every episode relentlessly drove the main story forward … with one exception. During Season 3, Syfy (then mercifully known as the SciFi Network) tried to make the show more viewer friendly, which translates to more episodic. See, the reason networks used to hate serialized stories is that while they tend to keep early fans watching, they make it difficult for new fans to get into shows because of all the backstory they’ve missed. SciFi wanted Season 3 to be easier to get involved which, resulting in a season which, while it has some major highs (New Caprica and the Adama Maneuver, anyone?) it also resulted in some disjointed episodes that feel unfocused and unconnected to the larger story.

If this had been the series modus operandi from the start, nothing would have seemed amiss. As it was, the change was jarring. Fortunately, the fourth and final season was allowed to close out the show (once, again that this was the final season was planned in advance) on the show-runners terms. For the record, I enjoyed both BSG’s and Lost’s controversial endings. The lesson we can take from this is that whatever precedent you set between installments, it is best to keep to it throughout the run of your series.

 

A serialized approach to storytelling is a great way to grab viewers (or readers) early and make sure they stay invested. That said, there are pitfalls to the approach as well as benefits to working in some episodic elements as well.

About the Author: Gregory D. LittleHeadshot

Rocket scientist by day, fantasy and science fiction author by night, Gregory D. Little began his writing career in high school when he and his friend wrote Star Wars fanfic before it was cool, passing a notebook around between (sometimes during) classes. His first novel, Unwilling Souls, is available now from ebook retailers and trade paperback through Amazon.com. His short fiction can be found in The Colored Lens, A Game of Horns: A Red Unicorn Anthology, and the upcoming Dragon Writers Anthology. He lives in Virginia with his wife and their yellow lab.

You can reach him at his website (www.gregorydlittle.com), his Twitter handle (@litgreg) or at his Author Page on Facebook.

 

 

Worldbuilding in the Final Frontier

Dave Heyman Fantasy Storyline World-building No Comments

A guest blog by David Heyman.

DS9stationAs a reader and writer of fantasy, I am strongly drawn to stories that emphasize worldbuilding. I think it’s a fascinating process: creating a living breathing world, real and vibrant enough that the reader will believe that world exists even after closing the book. When done well, worldbuilding allows the story to come alive, creating emotional resonance and allowing a rich backdrop onto which the writer can place their characters and dilemmas.

On television, one of my favorite examples comes from a somewhat unlikely place. Traditionally worldbuilding is the domain of new science fiction and fantasy properties, but in this case I am going to explore a show that was set in an already well-established universe: Star Trek Deep Space Nine.

In the writer’s room of the television Deep Space Nine, they had a common response to a writing problem or challenge: “make it a virtue!” Take your problem and find the strength in it, use that problem’s challenges make your story stronger. This particular show’s primary problem was one of motion, or the lack thereof. The USS Enterprise (both original and D) of the first two Star Trek shows was always travelling, always moving. Each week there were new worlds, new civilizations… new wonders to entice your audience.

Deep Space Nine was a space station- -it wasn’t going anywhere. Sure, the writers could have the ‘wonders’ come to the station (and they occasionally would) but they also took this problem and made it a virtue by embracing the world building opportunity it represented. Instead of seeing the amazing worlds and galactic wonders of the external galaxies, DS9 would draw you in by exploring the details of its characters and setting.

Exploring the emotional depths of the leads was not uncharted territory for Star Trek, but never before had the series spent so much time expanding on the backstories of not just the main characters, but a parade of recurring side characters as well. No more was the cast trying to solve the dilemmas of the ‘guest star’ of the week, forcing the viewer at home to try to care about the problems of someone they just met. Now we were visiting the lives of old friends (and enemies), learning more about them as they worked through complex emotional and morality puzzles.

By staying with the same set of primary locations (the station as well as key planets in the lore) the show again was able to add interest by going deeper rather than farther. Depth over distance, allowing the worlds of Bajor, Cardassia, the Dominion and Deep Space Nine itself to be expanded and explored in detail never before tried on a Star Trek show. Each of these repeating locations thus gained a life of their own, becoming characters in their own right with diverse and recognizable geography, politics and cultural motivations.

In later seasons, the series then took these twin strengths of worldbuilding and character depth and upped the ante by embracing serialized storylines. Common place now, these were still quite uncommon in the speculative fiction side of television back in the early 90s, and unheard of in Star Trek. Starting with three or four episode arcs, the series got bolder as time went on, with the final two seasons all being primarily driven by one story line.

This is not to say that Deep Space Nine never told a story in the more traditional Trek format, nor that the other Trek shows never focused on developing their characters or expanding the worldbuilding beyond introducing new races. (Next Generation, for example, did wonders for the Klingons). In the large sense though, the original series and Next Generation were primary shows about the adventure the characters were on, whereas Deep Space Nine though staked out a claim as a show that was essentially about itself- -its characters and the world they lived in day to day.

I feel it was the foundation the writers had laid with their characters and their worldbuilding that allowed this experiment to live long and prosper, if you will. By bringing viewers deeper into their characters and their environment, they had the luxury of taking them on longer journeys, with bigger emotional payoffs.

As a writer, I often think back to Deep Space Nine and the lessons I learned by watching it. Like most authors, I write the stories I want to read- -for me those are stories that travel deep inside their character and their world, building in the reader a bottomless well of emotional resonance.


Dave writes both novels and short stories in the various genres of speculative fiction. His other passions include his family, gaming and reading about mountaineering. Sleep is added to the mix when needed. You can visit him at daveheyman.com

Stories through Movies

Craft & Skills Doing Good in the World Jace Killan Life Philosophies Movies Our Favorite Fiction No Comments

There are movies that are exciting to watch like Star Wars and the Avengers. Some classics that we like to watch over and over again like Ferris Beuller’s Day Off or the Princess Bride. Others that we can quote word for word like Monty Python and the Holy Grail or Dumb and Dumber.

And there are some movies that move us, even change us and stay with us forever.

I’ve only seen Swing Kids once, about twenty years ago. But the movie had a profound effect on me. I replayed the ending over and over again in my mind for weeks. I wanted it to be different. I wanted a happy ending. But that wasn’t the message. My thoughts turned to anger for the tyrants that have caused so much pain to the children of this world.

And I realized.

There will always be tyrants. But we can overcome the pain and misery they cause by banding together and fighting back and never giving up. Swing Heil.

This message was embedded in the story written by Jonathan Marc Feldman, someone I don’t recognize by name and yet he has influenced my life tremendously. He has taken my mind hostage at times, challenging my perceptions. I think I’m a better man because of that movie.

As writers we have the awesome opportunity to influence the world through story.

This month we are discussing exceptional stories told through movies. So stay tuned, we have a full month.

– Jace

jace 1I live in Arizona with my family, wife and five kids and a little dog. I write fiction, thrillers and soft sci-fi with a little short horror on the side. I’ve got an MBA and work in finance for a biotechnology firm.

I volunteer with the Boy Scouts, play and write music, and enjoy everything outdoors. I’m also a novice photographer.

You can visit my author website at www.jacekillan.com, and you can read some of my works by visiting my Wattpad page.