Good, Bad, Indifferent

Posted: February 17th, 2012 under Craft, the writing life.
Tags: , ,

My UK editor wants an essay for their blogsite.  I’m working on it.  I’ve been working on it since it was assigned.   It should’ve been easy; I thought it would be easy.  It’s not.  And it’s even a topic I suggested.   In the weird way that Lifestuff and Writerstuff sometimes intertwine, it got tangled in a discussion here, a discussion elsewhere, and my original thoughts on the matter.

I’ve been mildly annoyed for years by reviews (of other peoples’ books–this is not a complaint about reviews of mine) that focus on whether there are enough nasty people in it.   Oh wonderful, some reviewer will burble: this book has delightfully nasty/dark/tormented/vicious characters.  I’m so tired of goody-goodies, the reviewer will say.   And then came a blog post not very long ago, in which the writer dumped piles of contempt on people who wrote good v. evil epic fantasy because this was always totally good boring stupid people against totally evil interesting complicated people.  Oh, and smart.

And I thought, “You shallow twit.   This is not a D&D game.”   Actually I don’t blame Gygax and D&D.  I blame Tolstoy.   If you know anything about Tolstoy’s life, you know the man was weird to the nth degree.  Apparently Orthodox Guilt is even more powerful (and oblique to) Catholic or Jewish or Episcopalian or  Calvinist Guilt.   It’s Tolstoy who made that incorrect statement about happy and unhappy families that everyone quotes…but given his own craziness, I’m not surprised that he misjudged both happy and unhappy families.  If he’d worked in an ER or in EMS or in a crisis center, he would have known better.

Unhappy families are strikingly alike in how they get unhappy and what they do when they’re unhappy.  They’re not creatively unhappy…they’re common garden-variety unhappy.    They all think they know who’s to blame (and they’re just about always wrong)  and they continue to find ways to keep the unhappiness going.   If it seemed to start with a layoff, they’ll such incredibly useful and happy-making behaviors as drinking too much, blaming each other,  whining, yelling….etc.   Eventually someone will threaten or make a suicide attempt or someone will beat up on or shoot someone or commit a crime.    The same goes for any starting point: money troubles, sex troubles, substance abuse and frank mental illness.

Happy families are weird, strange, unpredictable (and creative) because they find ways to be happy that no one else has thought of.    It’s not that they don’t have problems–everybody has problems–but they find balance where unhappy families don’t.    We were warned, starting out, that we would have problems (I’d been told that for years) because we were both brought up in single-parent homes.  His mother was a widow; mine was divorced.   How could we possibly have a marriage that stuck, let alone that was happy?   We thought it was easier precisely because we weren’t stuck with the conventional model as the only way to have a happy family.   We could make up our own solutions (and we have.)   Happy families can be large, small, in between…headed by a man or a woman,  or two men or two women, or a man and a woman–who may or may not have been married before to someone else.   Happy families can include children–or not.   An extended family–or not.    Who goes out to work, who doesn’t, who works indoors and who works outdoors–none of that determines which families will be happy and which won’t.  For every background that produces a happy family…that same apparent background can produce unhappy families.

So, dragging this back to writing books…someone asked, somewhere else, why I didn’t write more point-of-view “bad” characters.  Why readers see my bad characters almost entirely (and sometimes entirely) from the outside.   That reader thought bad characters were innately more interesting than good characters    And my first thought was “Write your own !**! books if you want to immerse yourself in that stuff.”

But then…I started listening to people talk about this sort of thing and began to understand why people who think good characters are boring think that way.    The immediate simple answer–they don’t know how to read beyond the decoding level–is inadequate.   (They don’t, but that’s not all of it.)   Ever since the romantic era, the “dark side” has been romanticized…admired…praised.   So “good character equals dull, wishy-washy, rather stupid because must always do good even when it’s walking off a cliff” and “bad character equals fascinating, mysterious, intriguing, complex…because that looks like a dirty dark alley I can explore without getting killed.  Maybe.”

The writer spends more time with a character than readers do (trust me on this one)  so this writer’s attitude is that if I’m going to spend years with a protagonist , it’s going to be someone that interests me…someone I can stand to be in my head with for that long.   I wrote one book with a protagonist so badly flawed  (completely inability to see himself clearly, admit his mistakes, make the best of who he was because who he wanted to be was just not in his makeup) that he caused great harm to many people over many generations.   Not doing that again:  it was a very, very miserable experience.

Well…said yet another person at a convention…why don’t you write about more moral ambivalence?   And I thought (you know what) and struggled not to explain at great length why I don’t believe in moral ambivalence.   I think most people have a very clear view of what’s right and what’s wrong…when it’s being done to them.    There’s no ambivalence in a writer’s surge of emotion when someone cuts him off as he’s trying to merge into crowded traffic.  There’s no mistaking which side of the line you’re experiencing when someone shoves past you on a stairway–or helps pick up the groceries you dropped when fumbling for your keys.    Most people (barring certain defined mental illnesses) know what’s right and wrong when they do it–but defend their wrongdoing with excuses to themselves.   They’re tired, they were sick, they just got mad,  they were feeling down…there’s always a reason, but it’s covering up the knowledge that what I said to M.F. in high school was a mean thing to say, and I knew it…and didn’t know it.  Luap’s flaw: the refusal of self-knowledge.

There can of course be doubt, and confusion, and uncertainty of the best course.    In this instance, which is the greater good?  The worse evil?   If the pilot who managed to set his aircraft down in the East River so no lives were lost had–in the last moment–seen he was going to smash somone in a rowboat, should he have tried to pull up and killed everyone on the plane as a result?   If every life is infinitely precious…can you kill one to save hundreds?  And how do you make such a decision in a split second, which is all you’d have?

So…are good characters necessarily perfect, boring, wishy-washy blahs?   Not to me.  I have some really good friends, people I’ve known and been friends with for over 40 years.   None of them are perfect.  None of them are boring.   Nor are they alike…except in being good people.  The ones you can count on when your car breaks down to drive 20 miles to pick you up.  Or more.    They have other friends who can count on them, too.  They do good work in their occupations; they make good neighbors.   But boring?  Predictable?  No.

I saw a review of the original Paks books once that dismissed Paks at the end as “too good, it was all too easy for her.”    And I thought very hard “You don’t know how to READ!”   Easy?  No.     I didn’t say it, of course.    But it’s another error to think that “happy endings” are easy endings.    The happy family–the happy character–the good character–don’t get there by accident.   It’s work.    The whining and yelling and hitting and drinking and taking drugs are easy.    Not doing that, and doing something constructive, is work.    Fighting the depression,  struggling with the flashbacks of PTSD, coping with the realities that life throws at us all…that’s work.

And the struggle makes the story.     A far more interesting story (to me) than the bad guy ranting about how he was done wrong and now he’s going to hand out payback.    Better to have Paks–or Kieri or Dorrin or Arcolin or Stammel–in my head for several years than, for instance, Alured or Barranyi or Luap.    I have a life to live, not just a world to write about.

EDIT:  Forgot to mention.  My portable–the netbook–has apparently died or locked itself in a catatonic state.   So I won’t have anything with me in San Antonio for posting to this blog.   And so there will be a blank until I get back.  I’ll try to get a post off early tomorrow before I leave.

23 Comments »

  • Comment by Xany — February 18, 2012 @ 1:04 am

    1

    For what it’s worth, I love your books precisely because your characters are good people. 🙂

    In fact, I’d even say that reading your work has been an education in how to be good, and happy, and how to lead others to do the same. There aren’t many like that out there. If I wanted to read about flawed heroes that do more harm than good (and I do sometimes) there are legion of them to choose from, but stories about good people are rare.


  • Comment by Celina — February 18, 2012 @ 2:32 am

    2

    I wouldn’t want to read from your evil characters points of view anyway! *shudders at the thought at being inside a Liart priest’s mind* That is just terrible!
    And that thing with evil characters are “cooler”. Don’t worry, people usually grow up from it. (Excluding certain sparkly-lovers…*rolleyes*)


  • Comment by Naomi — February 18, 2012 @ 4:46 am

    3

    Whata twit the reviewer who thought Paks had it ‘too easy’, obviously, as you said couldn’t read… When Paks went to the Kuakgan and was ready to end it all, I cried and cried. You keep on writing the way you do and as you say, if reviewers don’t like it, let them write their own books – I personally blame Victoria Holt for the romantic dark approach!


  • Comment by Richard — February 18, 2012 @ 5:06 am

    4

    A minor point, Elizabeth: you take us to people’s POV when they face new experiences, practical or (very often) psychological challenges. If the story requires that we see a “baddie” tackling a problem (to show what the good characters are up against) then I don’t want ever to be in the baddie’s POV (invited in a way, however temporarily, to cheer for the baddie); eyewitness is better. Not Haron Verrakai’s POV at the very start of Fealty, but the little messenger boy’s.


  • Comment by Richard — February 18, 2012 @ 5:21 am

    5

    Naomi, it is the healing there of Paks’ misery that brings the tears to my eyes.


  • Comment by Robert Conley — February 18, 2012 @ 7:35 am

    6

    One of the things that attracted me to the Deed of Paksenarrion was the fact that Paks never had it easy. That her journey to become a paladin was fraught with detours and doubts all of which she had to overcome. Even afterwards it wasn’t a piece of cake. It was interesting and gripping to read. Any reviewer that says different didn’t take the time read it closely.

    Besides books about, athletes, explorers, scienctists who live inspirational lives are always popular. There is no reason why there can’t be a fantasy novel around those themes.


  • Comment by Annabel (Mrs Redboots) — February 18, 2012 @ 8:21 am

    7

    Oh, me too – my favourite scene in the whole DEED. I go back to it time and time again.


  • Comment by Karen Hardin — February 18, 2012 @ 8:30 am

    8

    First, Good luck with your toe and your presentation.

    I really like it that you stay in the POV of the good characters. The books I read that spend too much time in the POV of the bad ones or wallows in unhappiness, I will never read again and if it starts there, I won’t buy it. If I like the story and the author has one POV per chapter, I might reread the book, skipping the chapters that I consider yucky. This post made me realize why I consider them yucky.


  • Comment by elizabeth — February 18, 2012 @ 8:48 am

    9

    The one I just turned in has one scene in a bad character’s POV. It could be important because it establishes something for the reader that other characters do not know yet but the reader will benefit from knowing…and it keeps him from being that shadowy sort of menace that can seem too convenient. But I dunno what Editor will think of it.


  • Comment by elizabeth — February 18, 2012 @ 9:59 am

    10

    The reason the next book has a bad guy POV is that I could not figure out a way for a witness to see what is necessary for the reader to know…it’s something internal. Still thinking about that; it’s something I expect to discuss with new Editor. I thought of one possible workaround only this morning, but it would involve giving another character the kind of insight I don’t think he has.


  • Comment by Kathy_S — February 18, 2012 @ 1:05 pm

    11

    I much prefer your approach, thank you.


  • Comment by Jonathan Schor — February 18, 2012 @ 3:45 pm

    12

    I too like reading about the so called good people.

    Paks having it easy – reference her several talks about being a Paladin with Stammel.

    In any case, write what you will Ms. Moon – you have to do the work so you may call the tune.


  • Comment by Genko — February 18, 2012 @ 5:50 pm

    13

    I think your approach works because really most of us like to think of ourselves as basically good people – flawed, of course, but doing our best to do the right thing. We often get into those dilemmas of how to discern the right thing, and that’s what’s interesting about how you work with your characters. They’re not just “good,” but also realistic in their struggles to live that out.

    Yes, there are people who like evil baddies, as a way perhaps of flirting with what that would be like in a “safe” way. But, as you point out, when you get that into your head, it’s not really all that safe. I find myself with a yuck factor after certain media events and prefer to avoid those because I don’t like how I feel afterwards. And it seems easier to start dissing people, being mean, etc. Not where I want to go at all.

    What was that saying about not being able to please all the people all the time?


  • Comment by pjm — February 19, 2012 @ 6:49 am

    14

    Real-world humans are mixtures of good and evil, and this is what readers can identify with. A POV character can be on either side of a conflict and show both virtues and vices.

    On the other hand in fantasy we can have beings that are pure good or pure evil. We can follow events from the POV of such beings, but I don’t see how we can identify with them. (Although I have felt a pang of pity for Screwtape’s nephew).

    Peter


  • Comment by GeekLady — February 19, 2012 @ 7:35 am

    15

    I’m thinking that the reviewer who thought It was all too easy for Paks sounds disturbingly like Barra.


  • Comment by patrick — February 20, 2012 @ 9:25 am

    16

    I too prefer to have my POV characters have at least good intentions, if not always palidan class goodness. It helps inspire me to be better in my own life. I don’t read more than one book in a series which is dominated by evil POVs. But I also gain insight into other ways of thinking when reading from the POV of people with muddled or self interested approaches to the world, especially in shorter passages. Showing the consequences of those approaches can serve good ends as well. I just don’t want to invest long periods in company with those mindsets and empathize with the author’s challenges to present some of that motivation without simply showing stereotypes. It only took me a short time to read about Paks’s captivity and torture in Oath of Gold. Dear author had to spend days/weeks crafting it.

    To claim Paks had it easy is refutable on so many levels from all three of the early books. The statement suggests much about the reviewer’s preconceptions interfering with reading the book.

    Looking forward to getting my copy of Echoes later this week. Being careful to not start a long book while waiting.


  • Comment by Jenn — February 20, 2012 @ 1:26 pm

    17

    “I think most people have a very clear view of what’s right and what’s wrong…when it’s being done to them.”
    Isn’t that the truth.

    I, too, love that your characters never have it easy. Paks, Kieri, Doran (I read a review where they said she came to easily to her powers. Only because you didn’t write three books about her journey to her present), Cal, Stammel, Do I need to keep going?


  • Comment by Sharidann — February 21, 2012 @ 1:48 am

    18

    Paks having it easy….
    Frankly, I didn’t see that one coming…

    And I happen to think “good” people make for interesting reading too… and I understand the point about the characters being in your head alot more than in ours. 🙂


  • Comment by Richard — February 21, 2012 @ 4:37 am

    19

    Jenn,
    that reviewer missed the point about Dorrin. One day she’s an officer in someone else’s army, and can light a candle (if no-one’s looking). A few days later she’s a big boss – who can cut childrens’ throats with no legal come-back – with all these super-powers with which to enforce her rule, and carte blanche from the king to use them. (Like winning $50million in a lottery in our world, except that that doesn’t make people afraid of you.) What does that do to her? That’s the story.


  • Comment by Jenn — February 21, 2012 @ 12:29 pm

    20

    Richard,
    There is that too. Dealing with power. I was thinking more the small paragraphs of her terror as a toddler, running away after killing a friend who was being tortured for her “benefit”. Being a bit of of an outcast even amid her own Knights.


  • Comment by Maureen — March 5, 2012 @ 6:54 am

    21

    I gobble up your Paks saga for the reasons you have blogged about. It is easier to give in to the whining, the victimization, the anger than it is to grab hold of yourself and make something of beauty of your life. That kind of goodness/seeking of beauty takes strength, courage, and a lot of work – and a good sense of humor helps.

    I work with people professionally in “wellness” and most people I have worked with prefer to extend their misery rather than do the work to get beyond misery; it’s too difficult for them change. And yet they love going to those who offer placebos; placebos require no work and no change and they can easily talk about how the charlatan has improved their life…while nothing has changed.

    It’s not easy to talk about the hard work of goodness and beauty. You write your characters’s struggles in the work with profound insight, depth and clarity; very unusual in this world we’ve created. Thank you, Elizabeth Moon!


  • Comment by Fred Zebruk — March 21, 2012 @ 8:06 pm

    22

    I agree with you, Paks and your other protagonists apear to me as realistic. That is why I like the stories so much and why I can read the book three times a year.


  • Comment by Fred Zebruk — May 21, 2012 @ 10:59 pm

    23

    Elizabeth
    I came upon a copy of Moon Flights and was very pleased to read the two Paks world related short stories. Thank you for that.


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