Monday, May 5, 2014

Realism or Romanticism

You might be forgiven in thinking that, going by this blog title, I have jumped ship and become a romance novelist. Perhaps I should, since it’s currently the biggest selling genre in North America. However, being a stick-in-the-mud Kiwi means I’ll happily remain a science fantasy writer until the day I leave this mortal coil. Or at least until the Alzheimer kicks in! The topic under review happens to be: as an author do you favor realism over storytelling? Or put another way, do you let the truth get in the way of a good story? Specifically what I’m referring to is scripting a fantasy fiction fight scene. Swordplay often wasn’t the one-on-one duels immortalized by the likes of Zorro or The Princess Bride. Braveheart is a more faithful depiction of the free-for-all scrapping that dominated medieval warfare. When plunged into the frightening melee of battle, there was but one rule: strike or be struck down. (You thought it’d be “kill or be killed”, right? I opted not to be so clichéd.) Swordfighting is incredibly vigorous and tiring, meaning combatants sought to end any fight swiftly and decisively. There simply wasn’t the energy to waste on fancy flourishes with the blade. Forget Hollywood’s fashionable fight-to-the-death skewering of the baddie through the heart with your father’s sword in a climatic act of vengeance. Legs made a handier target than the (often armored) torso of an opponent. A favored technique was to slash the lower limbs, then simply step back and let your adversary bleed out – much like a shark attack. Also, the swordsman whose blade cleared the scabbard first stood the best chance of winning any life-and-death contest. Battle commenced with your sword already in hand, not drawing it challengingly to entice your foe into combat. Therein lies the writer’s dilemma. Should the tale be historically factual to the detriment of the plot? Or does the story get spiced up with improbable swordfights which justifiably raise the tension of the scene tenfold. My approach is thus. For the large scale battle scenes involving opposing armies thrashing it out on the field of battle, I find it’s best to stick with accuracy. Study texts on medieval warring. Pore over accounts of ancient battles. You’ll discover the army which occupied the high ground held the advantage; archers rained down suppressive fire (the longbow was roughly equivalent to today’s machine gun) which, in conjunction with heavy cavalry, broke up an infantry charge; side forays were led to attack the enemy baggage train and slaughter camp followers while the main soldiery clashed. Conduct your research and I guarantee you’ll come away with a boatload of authentic ways in which your kingdoms and empires can be pitted against one other militarily. Individual duels give the writer some leeway. General swordfighting terms – parry, riposte, etc. – can be utilized to convey action to a reader (and sound both cool and knowledgeable to boot), yet you don’t need to be quite so literal with the facts. Building the scene to its satisfying climax is just as crucial as knowing when to thrust or block. How the hero despatches the villain, while important in terms of realism, it not as vital as the impetus driving Good to confront and ultimately triumph over Evil. In the end it’s your call. When Garrich slew the brigand responsible for his foster father’s death in Wizards’ Goal, first volume in my Terrath series, I embellished fact with storytelling to achieve the desired result. Whatever you choose to be - realistic or dramatic – just ensure the portrayal does justice to your story. After all, it’s not called fantasy for nothing.

Winning Percentage

My good friend and fellow author T.H.Morris needs our help. He plans to self-publish his first novel, a paranormal adventure set in North Carolina, through a crowdfunding campaign via Kickstarter. But in order to achieve this Terrick requires to make as many people aware of his project as he can. I have had the privilege of reading a sneak preview of The Eleventh Percent and fans of the paranormal genre will be well rewarded. It will literally leave you breathless, wanting more. Check out my comments and others' praise, as well as an excerpt from the book, on Terrick's website: www.thmorris.weebly.com

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Sexed Up

This is the trickiest of subject material to tackle. First off, you must ask yourself, “Is a sex scene absolutely necessary?” If not vital to plot or character development, discard it. Harsh I know, but superfluous wordage is just that - surplus to requirements. Gratuitous titillation, while fine for romance novels and erotic literature, has no place in speculative fiction unless it drives the plot. Now that you have decided that the scene is crucial to the story and not just fluff, exactly how does a writer pull off describing the sexual act without sounding crass or clichéd? That’s the tricky part, walking the fine line between good taste and bad writing without tripping over. I faced just such a dilemma penning Three Times Chosen, when Durgay and Najoli physically expressed their growing feelings for one another. Luckily, I was no longer a literary virgin thanks to the Thunderfoot mating scene concerning Bronte and Darved in The Chosen One. Life was certainly made easier for me having to describe a pairing between animals – albeit titanic dinosaurs. My first dip in the pool of romance was suitably tasteful for a wildlife show! Getting back to merfolk intimacy, in one way I was let off the hook by the fact that my couple weren’t strictly human, meaning the union between consenting Cetari was a plunge into uncharted waters. That said, they retained enough humanness that the unspoken rule of sensuality over sexuality still applied. The old adage “Less is more” is apt. Consider the classic film Jaws. Were you frightened more by the shark actually appearing, that triangular fin slicing sinisterly through the water, or the mere hint of its presence preceded by John William’s superbly menacing score. Alfred Hitchcock was the unequivocal master of suspense, delivering scares which relied on gist more than gore. The shower scene in Psycho stills ranks highly as one of the most terrifying scenes in cinematic history. A sex scene is therefore perfect material for exercising this type of creative restraint. Use your reader’s imagination to paint the picture without having to draw it for them line by (potentially embarrassing) line. Essentially a diluted form of voyeurism, you invite the reader to take a ringside seat, then set the scene and let their mind color the imagery. It’ll make for a more passionate read, leaving the booklover breathless and wanting more...story, that is, not sex!