I'd like to think I know something about the fantasy genre. I'd like to think that most of the people submitting to Realms of Fantasy, whether they are published or not, also know something about the fantasy genre. Therefore, it is a source of constant amazement and frustration how often during the course of my slushing I come across one particular element in people's stories that I find lacking in substance.
I speak of the fantasy element. And I'm not just referring to stories by unpublished authors. I've read stories by published authors--authors with credits the majority of fantasy writers will envy with enough green to rival Snow White's wicked stepmother--where the fantasy element is so poorly handled it boggles my mind. While it goes without saying, I feel I must say it anyway. The fantasy element in a fantasy story cannot be ignored or taken for granted (repeat this to yourself three times, as it shall prove the most important sentence in this long rant).
There are many definitions for the word fantasy, but for our purposes the following one is the most appropriate: Fiction characterized by highly fanciful or supernatural elements.
So why do so many authors fail to write a fantasy story that achieves this definition? Simply put, I don't know. Which brings us back to my frustation. But in many ways the fantasy element is the most important element of the fantasy story. It's why fantasy readers are attracted to a fantasy story (adding "Duh!" feels appropriate about now). Regardless of how brilliantly an author may handle other aspects of the story, if the author is trying to write a fantasy story, if the fantasy element of the story is a failure then the story as a whole is also a failure.
But what oh what is a person to do to avoid this aggregious sin, and how might he actually put the fantasy element to proper use?
I) THE CLICHE: This is where most of the beginners make their mistakes. Instead of writing what they know, they imitate what they know. Elves. Half-elves. Dwarves. Orcs. Beginning a quest in a bar or dungeon. Wizards hurling fireballs and lightning from their fingertips. Women riding around in chainmail bikini armor (Sexy? Perhaps. But it would chafe way too much to actually wear or fight in).
Please notice something important as I list these examples, i.e. I'm dealing with many different aspects of the fantastic, such as creatures, milieus, magical systems, even wardrobes. Any one (or all) of these elements can go into creating a proper fantasy story. Each one represents another ingredient, and to borrow from Tolkien (and then twist it around utterly), one spoiled piece of meat can ruin the whole stew. Yes, there are ways to overcome the cliche and make it your own thought-provoking interpretation, but most people must hone their craft before they can achieve this effect. What happens in the other 99% of cases is that by embracing the cliche you have destroyed whatever chance you had of writing proper fantasy. Remember the definition of fantasy? How can something be highly fanciful if you're recycling the same utter drek that gives the genre a bad name? Where's the feeling of wonder that should come with these supernatural elements? I've seen rabbits pulled out of hats a million times. It doesn't make me say, "Oooo. Magic." Impress me. Make my eyes go wide by pulling out an elephant instead!
There are many other sorts of cliches that can run rampant in a writer's story, but let's stay focused on those that impact the fantastical element(s) of a fantasy story. Therefore, I'd like to take a look at some of these culprits in a little more depth.
II) CREATURES: Perhaps Middle Earth earned its name for a reason no one has considered. Maybe it's because this world dwells in the middle of all the other otherworldy fantasy universes. Maybe there are secret magical portals in Middle Earth that can take its denizens to other fantasy worlds.
It would certainly explain why the elves and dwarves haunt the pages of our genre like a goddamn plague.
Did Tolkien invent such creatures? No. But he took them and made them his own as they pertain to the modern fantasy genre. Then others followed in his footsteps. Many MANY others. Too many others. Is it so hard to use creatures from another myth? Or to create your own? IS IT??? It is? Then I would suggest you refrain from writing fantasy. Barring those select few able to take an old idea and turn it inside out, when you write about such creatures you're not writing fantasy. You're writing mindless monkey babble.
Now don't get me wrong. Once upon a time I liked monkeys. I grew up devouring their babble. But a zoo is filled with countless animals. I'm not there just to see the monkeys. And at this point I've seen the chimpanzees, the gorillas, the apes, and the orangatangs as well. I want to see the lions and tigers, the pumas and the panda bears. I'd rather see the parokeets than another offshoot or cousin to the monkey. A zoo's personality is very much created by its various animals. A person's fantasy world can be as well. Fantasy worlds don't necessarily need fabulous creatures, but if you have them then you should avoid going for the easiest option first.
But it's more than just the elves and the dwarves to watch out for. Stay away from the half-elves and the orcs. Goblins and hobgoblins are a little safer, but still tough sells. Big spiders usually=snore. I like sorcerer-apes, but they're a hard sell too. And the little people have been done to death. Hobbits . . .gnomes . . .halflings . . .I can't take it anymore. Kender were the last staw (although I confess to having enjoyed them). It's all dipping into the Tolkien well. That well ran dry long ago. Dig a new one.
One thing I will add before I move on is that in many ways I consider creatures such as dragons, giants, and fairy folk to be exempt from this tirade. There are countries all over the world with myths about these beings, and all these countries have had such myths for many centuries. Hence these beasties are part of the world-myth, which means they transcend our little corner of fantasy literature. It is therefore more acceptable to write stories about these creatures without having them labelled as derivative, and it explains why we see more stories with such creatures printed in the shorter form. The problem is too many people deal with these creatures in rather derivative ways, because they rely on what's already been done, i.e. THE CLICHE. But should the author bother to use the old noggin, these creatures still represent fertile story ground.
III) MAGIC: Creatures tends to be a danger zone for the beginner more than the experienced writer. Magic, OTOH, is an area I've witnessed some of the better writers fail at. First, let's come back to THE CLICHE. Avoid the fireballs and the lightning bolts. These are the two biggest giveways in the book that the author isn't bringing much to the table. Summoning the old demon is starting to make a push for some recognition in this department, but it still has some work to do. There is still SOME room to explore here. If used to proper effect an author can still get away with a good-old fashioned sleep spell, because something about this carries a deep resonance. Saem goes for the love spell. Of course, as with giants and dragons, most authors use such spells in derivative ways, dooming them to failure.
Magic is one of the very first things a reader will associate with today's fantasy story, so to write a fantasy story without magic can be quite a challenge. If you can pull that off, kudos to you. If not, you'd best bring something interesting to the table. But please realize that interesting doesn't necessarily=pyrotechnics. Some of the most effective magic I've read about can't be seen with the eye. Its effectiveness comes in the mood cast by the author's words, the result(s) of the spell, how it's experienced by the other senses, or the very way magic may impact a society's behavior.
With magic less is more. If we see it all the time, it loses its sense of wonder. But this is a very tricky rule. In a novel you can space out your magic, choose which moments are the best to utilize it. When you're dealing with a short story, however, everything becomes more concentrated. In order to convey a proper fantasy flavor, the less is more rule sometimes gets tossed out the window. Why, you ask? Because the moment you blink a short story is over. Every word counts. The author is packing it in. Including the magic. If the author takes this approach the magic is like a big slice of pie. When the reader finishes the story, he is left with the sense that as big as that slice was, the rest of the pie is still out there. It's the world-beyond-the-page theory, i.e. making your reader believe that there is far more to the universe than what they've read about. But to employ this usage of magic the author must exercise his imagination to the umpth degree, because it must stay original and thoughtful throughout. Otherwise it is probably best to fall back on the less is more rule. When using this approach for a short story, however, the moment(s) you choose should be particularly powerful, because you're trying to make an impression much the way you would during the infamous "elevator conversation."
One mistake I see in the short story form is mentioning magic that is offstage from the story. Depending on how an author does this, it COULD BE acceptable. The way I've seen it handled that bothers me is when this technique is supposed to represent the major fantastical element of the story. It's not fantastic if we're never exposed it. You're asking the reader to take your word that this is a fantasy story, even though there's nothing fantastical about it. Don't insult the reader's intelligence. If it's a fantasy story then prove it. Take us where the fantasy is or expose us to its results in a carefully thought out manner, enough so we believe in the magic even if we don't witness it. Notice I say "carefully thought out manner." This is where many authors, talented and otherwise, go astray. You must understand your magic to make it work. This doesn't mean you need a manual of rules, breaking everything down to its finest point. But you don't just make something fabulous happen and call it magic. That's cheating. Chicanery. Illusion. Understand what you're doing. You'll know you understand when your readers understand. The reader doesn't need to know everything. He simply needs to FEEL that everything makes sense. Once he does he will buy into your magic.
What also bothers is me when the magic suddenly shows up at the end of the story in such a manner as to resolve the whole conflict. Can you say deux ex machina? Doing this dehumanizes the whole story, and feels like a cheat. I've read successful stories where magic does finally show up at the end, but these authors achieve success because they understand that the resolution of the conflict doesn't depend on magic saving the day. Instead, the magic is used to enhance the impact of the resolution, ala "Indigo With Distance," by E. Catherine Tobler, one of my slush survivors. There is a distinct difference between magic enhancing resolution and magic representing resolution in one fell godlike swoop. Learn it. It's the difference between substance and cheating.
IV) WORLD-BUILDING: Then there is that select group of authors that try to convey the fantastical element stictly through the world-building. But this is a world without magic or cool beasties (or at least none shown), so it relies upon other touches, like the beavior of a society, the religions, the geography, the myths, etc. The skillful ones pull this trick off. Most fail utterly. A few touches that belong in a fantasy world don't cut the mustard. To take this approach the world must be utterly dripping with interesting and unique details. Note that I said DRIPPING. Don't hand me a fat cherry and tell me it's two scoops of ice cream. Don't point to what is there because I'll point to everything that isn't. It must be a WORLD you have us believing in. Not a couple of cool "Hey, look at these" moments. And remember you must convey this while still telling me a story. It can be a sizable challenge, especially without letting it hurt your pacing.
V) NAMING: So many authors fail to put any thought into this. Names carry resonance. They add texture to your world . . .especially a fantasy world. Think about the names you're choosing. Why, of all the possible names, are you choosing this one for this character? If it's a made-up world it would be nice if characters from the same nation have similar sounding names. I'm not a Nazi about this requirement, but don't give one character a Chinese sounding name and another character a Scottish sounding name, and have them hail from the same village. That's an extreme example, but you get the idea. Also, please please PLEASE pick names that are pronounceable to the reader. Otherwise it's nothing but a distraction that rips us out of the dream. Many authors think of their stories as their children. Well, don't you think about what you'd name your child? So why aren't you thinking about about the names you'd give the people and places in your fantasy tale?
VI) THE METAPHOR: There is also the fantasy story that sets out to achieve the fantastical through the use of metaphor alone. While this approach isn't my cup of tea it's nonetheless a viable form. But authors must realize that if they want to tackle this type of fantasy they need to bring their game face. What do I mean by this? Simply put, the other elements of the story must be clicking on all cylinders to make up for the absence of a "tangible" fantastical element. Such stories end up under the microscope even more than the usual short story in this regard. One slip, however slight, could unravel the entire tapestry the author is weaving. So be judicious in your uses and choices of . . .well, everything! More than usual!
So there you have some of my gripes and suggestions. There are always exceptions to every rule, and these exceptions refer to my mention of the "Skillful Ones," who tend to be far more benevolent than the the "Old Ones." Of course, one should use and discard as one sees fit. Hopefully this helps a few of you. It certainly helped me, as it gave me a chance to rant . . .and a few of you were even foolish enough to read this.
Mwahaha!
I speak of the fantasy element. And I'm not just referring to stories by unpublished authors. I've read stories by published authors--authors with credits the majority of fantasy writers will envy with enough green to rival Snow White's wicked stepmother--where the fantasy element is so poorly handled it boggles my mind. While it goes without saying, I feel I must say it anyway. The fantasy element in a fantasy story cannot be ignored or taken for granted (repeat this to yourself three times, as it shall prove the most important sentence in this long rant).
There are many definitions for the word fantasy, but for our purposes the following one is the most appropriate: Fiction characterized by highly fanciful or supernatural elements.
So why do so many authors fail to write a fantasy story that achieves this definition? Simply put, I don't know. Which brings us back to my frustation. But in many ways the fantasy element is the most important element of the fantasy story. It's why fantasy readers are attracted to a fantasy story (adding "Duh!" feels appropriate about now). Regardless of how brilliantly an author may handle other aspects of the story, if the author is trying to write a fantasy story, if the fantasy element of the story is a failure then the story as a whole is also a failure.
But what oh what is a person to do to avoid this aggregious sin, and how might he actually put the fantasy element to proper use?
I) THE CLICHE: This is where most of the beginners make their mistakes. Instead of writing what they know, they imitate what they know. Elves. Half-elves. Dwarves. Orcs. Beginning a quest in a bar or dungeon. Wizards hurling fireballs and lightning from their fingertips. Women riding around in chainmail bikini armor (Sexy? Perhaps. But it would chafe way too much to actually wear or fight in).
Please notice something important as I list these examples, i.e. I'm dealing with many different aspects of the fantastic, such as creatures, milieus, magical systems, even wardrobes. Any one (or all) of these elements can go into creating a proper fantasy story. Each one represents another ingredient, and to borrow from Tolkien (and then twist it around utterly), one spoiled piece of meat can ruin the whole stew. Yes, there are ways to overcome the cliche and make it your own thought-provoking interpretation, but most people must hone their craft before they can achieve this effect. What happens in the other 99% of cases is that by embracing the cliche you have destroyed whatever chance you had of writing proper fantasy. Remember the definition of fantasy? How can something be highly fanciful if you're recycling the same utter drek that gives the genre a bad name? Where's the feeling of wonder that should come with these supernatural elements? I've seen rabbits pulled out of hats a million times. It doesn't make me say, "Oooo. Magic." Impress me. Make my eyes go wide by pulling out an elephant instead!
There are many other sorts of cliches that can run rampant in a writer's story, but let's stay focused on those that impact the fantastical element(s) of a fantasy story. Therefore, I'd like to take a look at some of these culprits in a little more depth.
II) CREATURES: Perhaps Middle Earth earned its name for a reason no one has considered. Maybe it's because this world dwells in the middle of all the other otherworldy fantasy universes. Maybe there are secret magical portals in Middle Earth that can take its denizens to other fantasy worlds.
It would certainly explain why the elves and dwarves haunt the pages of our genre like a goddamn plague.
Did Tolkien invent such creatures? No. But he took them and made them his own as they pertain to the modern fantasy genre. Then others followed in his footsteps. Many MANY others. Too many others. Is it so hard to use creatures from another myth? Or to create your own? IS IT??? It is? Then I would suggest you refrain from writing fantasy. Barring those select few able to take an old idea and turn it inside out, when you write about such creatures you're not writing fantasy. You're writing mindless monkey babble.
Now don't get me wrong. Once upon a time I liked monkeys. I grew up devouring their babble. But a zoo is filled with countless animals. I'm not there just to see the monkeys. And at this point I've seen the chimpanzees, the gorillas, the apes, and the orangatangs as well. I want to see the lions and tigers, the pumas and the panda bears. I'd rather see the parokeets than another offshoot or cousin to the monkey. A zoo's personality is very much created by its various animals. A person's fantasy world can be as well. Fantasy worlds don't necessarily need fabulous creatures, but if you have them then you should avoid going for the easiest option first.
But it's more than just the elves and the dwarves to watch out for. Stay away from the half-elves and the orcs. Goblins and hobgoblins are a little safer, but still tough sells. Big spiders usually=snore. I like sorcerer-apes, but they're a hard sell too. And the little people have been done to death. Hobbits . . .gnomes . . .halflings . . .I can't take it anymore. Kender were the last staw (although I confess to having enjoyed them). It's all dipping into the Tolkien well. That well ran dry long ago. Dig a new one.
One thing I will add before I move on is that in many ways I consider creatures such as dragons, giants, and fairy folk to be exempt from this tirade. There are countries all over the world with myths about these beings, and all these countries have had such myths for many centuries. Hence these beasties are part of the world-myth, which means they transcend our little corner of fantasy literature. It is therefore more acceptable to write stories about these creatures without having them labelled as derivative, and it explains why we see more stories with such creatures printed in the shorter form. The problem is too many people deal with these creatures in rather derivative ways, because they rely on what's already been done, i.e. THE CLICHE. But should the author bother to use the old noggin, these creatures still represent fertile story ground.
III) MAGIC: Creatures tends to be a danger zone for the beginner more than the experienced writer. Magic, OTOH, is an area I've witnessed some of the better writers fail at. First, let's come back to THE CLICHE. Avoid the fireballs and the lightning bolts. These are the two biggest giveways in the book that the author isn't bringing much to the table. Summoning the old demon is starting to make a push for some recognition in this department, but it still has some work to do. There is still SOME room to explore here. If used to proper effect an author can still get away with a good-old fashioned sleep spell, because something about this carries a deep resonance. Saem goes for the love spell. Of course, as with giants and dragons, most authors use such spells in derivative ways, dooming them to failure.
Magic is one of the very first things a reader will associate with today's fantasy story, so to write a fantasy story without magic can be quite a challenge. If you can pull that off, kudos to you. If not, you'd best bring something interesting to the table. But please realize that interesting doesn't necessarily=pyrotechnics. Some of the most effective magic I've read about can't be seen with the eye. Its effectiveness comes in the mood cast by the author's words, the result(s) of the spell, how it's experienced by the other senses, or the very way magic may impact a society's behavior.
With magic less is more. If we see it all the time, it loses its sense of wonder. But this is a very tricky rule. In a novel you can space out your magic, choose which moments are the best to utilize it. When you're dealing with a short story, however, everything becomes more concentrated. In order to convey a proper fantasy flavor, the less is more rule sometimes gets tossed out the window. Why, you ask? Because the moment you blink a short story is over. Every word counts. The author is packing it in. Including the magic. If the author takes this approach the magic is like a big slice of pie. When the reader finishes the story, he is left with the sense that as big as that slice was, the rest of the pie is still out there. It's the world-beyond-the-page theory, i.e. making your reader believe that there is far more to the universe than what they've read about. But to employ this usage of magic the author must exercise his imagination to the umpth degree, because it must stay original and thoughtful throughout. Otherwise it is probably best to fall back on the less is more rule. When using this approach for a short story, however, the moment(s) you choose should be particularly powerful, because you're trying to make an impression much the way you would during the infamous "elevator conversation."
One mistake I see in the short story form is mentioning magic that is offstage from the story. Depending on how an author does this, it COULD BE acceptable. The way I've seen it handled that bothers me is when this technique is supposed to represent the major fantastical element of the story. It's not fantastic if we're never exposed it. You're asking the reader to take your word that this is a fantasy story, even though there's nothing fantastical about it. Don't insult the reader's intelligence. If it's a fantasy story then prove it. Take us where the fantasy is or expose us to its results in a carefully thought out manner, enough so we believe in the magic even if we don't witness it. Notice I say "carefully thought out manner." This is where many authors, talented and otherwise, go astray. You must understand your magic to make it work. This doesn't mean you need a manual of rules, breaking everything down to its finest point. But you don't just make something fabulous happen and call it magic. That's cheating. Chicanery. Illusion. Understand what you're doing. You'll know you understand when your readers understand. The reader doesn't need to know everything. He simply needs to FEEL that everything makes sense. Once he does he will buy into your magic.
What also bothers is me when the magic suddenly shows up at the end of the story in such a manner as to resolve the whole conflict. Can you say deux ex machina? Doing this dehumanizes the whole story, and feels like a cheat. I've read successful stories where magic does finally show up at the end, but these authors achieve success because they understand that the resolution of the conflict doesn't depend on magic saving the day. Instead, the magic is used to enhance the impact of the resolution, ala "Indigo With Distance," by E. Catherine Tobler, one of my slush survivors. There is a distinct difference between magic enhancing resolution and magic representing resolution in one fell godlike swoop. Learn it. It's the difference between substance and cheating.
IV) WORLD-BUILDING: Then there is that select group of authors that try to convey the fantastical element stictly through the world-building. But this is a world without magic or cool beasties (or at least none shown), so it relies upon other touches, like the beavior of a society, the religions, the geography, the myths, etc. The skillful ones pull this trick off. Most fail utterly. A few touches that belong in a fantasy world don't cut the mustard. To take this approach the world must be utterly dripping with interesting and unique details. Note that I said DRIPPING. Don't hand me a fat cherry and tell me it's two scoops of ice cream. Don't point to what is there because I'll point to everything that isn't. It must be a WORLD you have us believing in. Not a couple of cool "Hey, look at these" moments. And remember you must convey this while still telling me a story. It can be a sizable challenge, especially without letting it hurt your pacing.
V) NAMING: So many authors fail to put any thought into this. Names carry resonance. They add texture to your world . . .especially a fantasy world. Think about the names you're choosing. Why, of all the possible names, are you choosing this one for this character? If it's a made-up world it would be nice if characters from the same nation have similar sounding names. I'm not a Nazi about this requirement, but don't give one character a Chinese sounding name and another character a Scottish sounding name, and have them hail from the same village. That's an extreme example, but you get the idea. Also, please please PLEASE pick names that are pronounceable to the reader. Otherwise it's nothing but a distraction that rips us out of the dream. Many authors think of their stories as their children. Well, don't you think about what you'd name your child? So why aren't you thinking about about the names you'd give the people and places in your fantasy tale?
VI) THE METAPHOR: There is also the fantasy story that sets out to achieve the fantastical through the use of metaphor alone. While this approach isn't my cup of tea it's nonetheless a viable form. But authors must realize that if they want to tackle this type of fantasy they need to bring their game face. What do I mean by this? Simply put, the other elements of the story must be clicking on all cylinders to make up for the absence of a "tangible" fantastical element. Such stories end up under the microscope even more than the usual short story in this regard. One slip, however slight, could unravel the entire tapestry the author is weaving. So be judicious in your uses and choices of . . .well, everything! More than usual!
So there you have some of my gripes and suggestions. There are always exceptions to every rule, and these exceptions refer to my mention of the "Skillful Ones," who tend to be far more benevolent than the the "Old Ones." Of course, one should use and discard as one sees fit. Hopefully this helps a few of you. It certainly helped me, as it gave me a chance to rant . . .and a few of you were even foolish enough to read this.
Mwahaha!


Comments
(As opposed to "The world is beyond your comprehension, and you can only stand and watch.")
I love it when slush readers snap and break out in ranting. :) It's always so educational.