What is The Difference Between Tragedy and Grimdark?

Labels are important, both for readers as well as for writers. How you classify a story helps libraries and bookstores sort which shelf it goes onto, and it can act as a big, red sign for readers who have a taste for particular fiction. Sometimes those labels can be helpful, like when a sub-genre emerges and grows into its own distinct category. Sometimes these labels can be used to pour shame onto books though, labeling them as surely as a big, scarlet A.

One of those labels is Grimdark, and it is still a battleground for readers and writers alike.

In the gutters of the genre ghettos there can be only one heir to the fantasy throne.

What Is Grimdark?

Before we get too far into the conversation we should all be on the same page. The phrase Grimdark, according to the all-knowing Wikipedia, began with the quote, "In the grim darkness of the future, there is only war," which comes from the Warhammer 40,000 game. For those not familiar with the game it features a bleak, dystopian future where all races and species are locked in bloody, eternal conflict across the stars, and the millions of bodies and oceans of blood are justified by nothing so much as a need to feed the war machine.

The label has expanded beyond the war game and its brethren though; today it refers mostly to speculative fiction (a broad term encompassing sci-fi and fantasy alike) where there is A) a grim and dark tone (natch), B) a sense of realism, and C) the agency of the characters involved in the story.

For example, say you were writing a fantasy story. Let's say that this story depicted a world where deaths are visceral, and the politics behind wars are realistic. Kings are not noble, divine rulers but rather spoiled children or iron-fisted tyrants who took the throne by the sword and keep it the same way. The heroes of your story have flaws, and there is no guarantee that their actions are noble or good. There is, in fact, no guarantee that the protagonists will succeed (or even survive), or that in succeeding they will enact any real change.

Does this sound familiar?

Brace yourself... Martin is coming.

George Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire has become the standard-bearer for grimdark fantasy. It is, in its way, an anti-Tolkien where the world is full of human complexities, evil is present in the hearts of men rather than in some outside force that must be defeated, and where vicious killers and tortured souls can exist in the same character.

Grimdark has its detractors though. People who claim that this kind of fiction glorifies brutality, and that in its pursuit of "realism" it's simply creating soulless pornography. Where is the hero's journey? Where are the morality tales where knights in gleaming armor fight against the evils that plague humanity in the form of dragons, demons, and evil wizards? Lastly, and the most often asked question, who the hell gets catharsis out of this?

I have an answer to that last one, actually. Humans, and they have since the dawn of Western civilization.

Tragedy's Rockstar Child

The Grimdark sub-genre is seen by many as an unnecessary attempt at edginess. It's fantasy in a black leather jacket with bad boy shades, out to make you think he's going to change before he fucks your girlfriend, blows smoke in your face, and roars out onto that highway to hell with flames shooting from his tail pipe.

The catharsis in watching terrible things happen, and in seeing characters try to fight against overwhelming forces, goes back a long, long way though. According to the Wiki gods it goes back to about the 6th century BCE.

A couple thousand years before this fellow, if you're counting.

Greek tragedy is, in its basest form, watching fundamentally flawed characters struggle against things too big for them to beat. Oedipus fights against fate, and his quest for truth opens his eyes before he shuts them forever. Antigone doesn't fare much better, struggling against generations of tragedy before smashing against the rocks of her own. Watching a world where one wrong decision, or one perilous action can wreck bloody ruin on everything you held dear has been the preferred entertainment of people for more than a millennium.

Grimdark is just the latest child of this human desire to watch everything fall apart.

When Everything Ends in Blood and Tears

There will always be people who prefer happy endings and black-and-white stories, just as there were people in Ancient Greece who preferred comedy to tragedy. Some people like to pick up whichever mask most suits them that day, satisfying the need they have at the time. Some people, readers and writers alike, just can't get enough of that sensation of meeting a character just as flawed and lost as they themselves are, reading through that character's choices and adventures, and riding that roller-coaster all the way down until their Icarus smashes to paste on the rocks below.

Speaking of which...

To answer the question I posed in the title of this blog post, Grimdark and tragedy are related. Dark overtones and dystopian horrors are certainly right at home under tragedy's big tent, but not all tragedy is Grimdark. Some tragedy sneaks up on you, getting its fingers under your skin and gently caressing your heartstrings before it uses them as an instrument to play you a sad song. Sometimes it looks like everything's going to be all right, and you let yourself hope, before the sad mask brings down the curtain on another broken ending.

If you're a fan of tragedy, but you can only take Grimdark in small doses, check out my latest book New Avalon: Love and Loss in The City of Steam. Take a tour of a place where the brilliant light of science casts shadows dark enough to get lost in, and where down every alley there's a new story itching to be told. The first two tales, along with the introduction are free to all, so step up and take the $2 tour.

You've got nothing to lose but a few tears... and that's a small price to pay, don't you think?

As always thanks for stopping in, and if you'd like to help support me then stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today! If you want to be sure you catch all of my updates then be sure to follow me on Facebook and Tumblr while you're at it!

How to Write Flawed Characters

Nobody's perfect. We all have flaws, and those flaws can take a thousand different forms. In many ways it's our flaws that make us who we are, providing the shading and contrast that throws our positive qualities into a starker relief. Flaws give people depth and character, which is why if you want the populace of your stories to stand out they need to have flaws as well.

The problem for many authors comes in deciding just how to execute those flaws; specifically in how to take the characters you've created and to give them flaws that are real and meaningful, instead of purely cosmetic. Since this is not an easy process The Literary Mercenary has put together a simple guide that will help you distress your characters in ways that make them more believable.

Step #1: Give Your Characters Flaws That Make Sense

Let's start with an example; we'll call him Chris. Chris is a big, handsome young man who comes from a supporting home, and who has a long record of personal achievement. He makes good grades, achieves positions of leadership in sports, always has a smile for his classmates, and refuses to sit by while anyone gets bullied. So what's his damage? Well... he has a crippling lack of self confidence.

Okay... why?

It eventually got bad enough that he had to have a horse carry him everywhere.

Barring some secret past being revealed, the elements for this flaw aren't present. A young man who has done nothing but succeeded in his endeavors, and who is supported and valued should have, if anything, an over-inflated sense of confidence. After all, he's led the team to three championships while maintaining his place on the honor roll... what could possibly get in his way?

If you really wanted this flaw though, you could plant it in fertile soil by altering the character's background. For instance, say that Chris's mother and father divorced when he was 10 or so, but for those first 10 years nothing Chris did was ever really good enough for his dad. Good grades were ridiculed, praise from coaches sneered at, and Chris was constantly told how weak and stupid he was. Even if his mother re-married, and Chris's step dad was supportive and proud of his new son's achievements there are going to be scars from that earlier period. While he has the skills and the drive, Chris might be pushing himself to try and prove that his dad was wrong even while he's secretly afraid he might be right.

Put another way it doesn't make a whole lot of sense for your character to be deathly afraid of dogs if he's never seen one before. If you want to sell a flaw you have to make it make sense.

Note: A huge list of character flaws can be found right here on TV Tropes.

Step #2: Give Them Flaws That Will Matter

Detective Lieutenant Larry Stone is a hard-nosed homicide cop who takes no shit and gets the job done. He's tough as nails, can quote every subsection of the city's law book, and he has an unimpeachable record as a lawman.

But he's sexually impotent.

And he's really pissed about it.

If you're wondering how Larry being unable to have sex affects his ability to catch murderers then you're already on the right track. While not every flaw a character has will be center stage all the time, for those flaws to matter they actually have to get in the way of something the character is trying to accomplish. Otherwise it fades into the background, an unimportant footnote we can easily forget about because it isn't germane to the story we're telling.

I'll give you a good example.

There's a novel I'd love to write based off of White Wolf's (or Onyx Path as I believe they're known now) tabletop roleplaying game Promethean. In this game you play an artificially created being who must struggle to find humanity. There are several varieties, but one is the Wretched, known more colloquially as the Frankensteins. Enter Adolph Simmons, a 7'6" monster assembled from the best and the brightest of Ryker's Island, and brought to life in the electric chair by his maker. Escaping after his birth the giant swum to shore and faded into the alleys of Hell's Kitchen. Years go by and there are rumors of a creature called The Butcher of Hell's Kitchen, a favorite in the tabloids for his supposedly gruesome murders of criminals in the area surrounding Our Lady of Sorrows.

It's all rumors and smoke, until children start going missing from the orphanage run by said church. The self-proclaimed guardian of those unwanted youths, Simms has to find where they've gone and who's taking them. The problem is that while he possesses unparalleled supernatural strength, he isn't very smart. He has no training as an investigator, and this makes his efforts clumsy at best, brutal at worst.

This fiercely loyal monster could solve any problem with his hands if it came to a fight, but when he has to use his brain his biggest strength has been stripped away and he has to overcome one of his weaknesses. That's how character flaws add to your story.

Step #3: Flaws Are Not Strengths. They're Flaws

At this point in the list I don't have the energy to pull out rare examples or hidden gems from master authors. Instead I'm just going to go for the low-hanging fruit and use one of the many things wrong with Twilight to make this point.

This was a dead horse a while back... I guess there's one or two whacks left...

Let me draw your attention to the collection of character flaws that is the book's main object (being a protagonist would imply she took effort to achieve something). Among her many other flaws Bella Swan suffers from extreme co-dependency, being left dejected and unable to think or act for months when her abusive significant other abandons her. Rather than struggling to remember how to be independent (as one assumes she was before she was part of a couple) her complete inability to function outside of a relationship (no matter how unhealthy it was) is shown in a positive, romantic light. As if by refusing to put her life together, and actively setting the remnants of it on fire, is supposed to be a statement of great love.

Here's another example for you: Batman.

I've written about Batman's character mistakes before (the article is here, by the by), but he's the easiest example of the emotionally damaged archetype to hold up. A normal person who lost his parents in a mugging would grieve for them, and he would grow up with a sense of just how easily life can end. He would see how prevalent crime can be, and he might even be motivated to try and fight against it in his parents' memory. Perhaps he'd become a cop, or campaign for change to clean up the streets. Perhaps he'd look for ways to help those who have to deal with grief. The idea of dedicating one's life to more than a decade of training, and then several more decades of donning body armor and prowling the streets, breaking bones and smashing teeth is the act of a crazy person. When real people have done this (check out The Real Superhero Project for some real-world vigilantes who started their careers in a dark place) it's been met with abject horror. Yet when we take utter insanity and dress it up in a set of fictional tights we see Batman's dedication and drive as assets rather than a fanatical devotion spurred by someone unable to cope with a traumatic event.

Step #4: Scale Is Everything

So you've got your character, flaws and all. You've figured out what events left scars, and how he or she healed from them to become the person they are today. Before you decide you're done though you need to stop and take a look at the scale of the flaw, and compare it to the scale of the results.

And then the lemur burned down the zoo. Because reasons.

Creating flaws whose results are extreme happens all the time with villains (and I covered some of it in Under The Black Hat: Writing Believable Bad Guys). I personally call this Dr. Doom syndrome. For those of you who don't read comics Victor Von Doom is the sovereign ruler of a small kingdom called Latveria in Marvel Comics. As a young prince Doom traveled to America for his education (where we presume he earned a doctorate). While he was in the lab working on what we can only assume was his thesis there was an accident. The accident marred Victor's face, and he sought some way to repair the damage. After medicine and magic failed him he forged an iron mask, and encased himself in a suit of highly advanced armor which he is rarely seen without.

The reason I use this example is that in some versions of the origin Doom's face is marred, but it's far from a horror. A small scar was all it took to send him on a world-wide quest to restore what he viewed as perfection, and in the end he encased himself in a suit of armor that put Tony Stark's most cutting-edge Mark line to shame.

Yes the comic was trying to evoke both The Phantom of The Opera and The Man in The Iron Mask for the purpose of mystery. We never see Doom's face, so we don't know if it's a terrifying ruin, or if it just has a slight imperfection along the cheek. The point is that even if he was disfigured why the armor? Why an iron mask? Why seclude himself completely except for when he pursues his own ends? The story reads more like a myth than a character study, and as a result the actions are grand, sweeping, and ultimately kind of shallow.

Ask Yourself If Real People Are Broken Like This

Art imitates life, and vice versa. Even if you're putting your characters into a completely unreal scenario (farmer abducted by aliens becomes intergalactic gladiator), the ways in which the human psyche breaks and heals are fairly finite. Coping mechanisms are kind of universal, and someone dealing with the stress of completely Earth-bound wars may develop the same sorts of tics and triggers as those who've fought in alien gore pits. All you need is to find a situation similar to the one you're setting up, and ask how real people turn out in that sort of situation. If you can follow that blueprint then the flaws your characters develop are going to feel as real and organic as any person your readers have ever met.

As always thanks for stopping in, and if you'd like to support me and my work drop in on The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page and become a patron! As little as $1 a month can be enough to keep me going and the content coming. Also if you're worried about missing any of my updates make sure you're following me on Facebook and Tumblr!

How Much Is Your Author Really Making With Patreon?

Most of you know what Patreon is, but if you aren't familiar with it The Literary Mercenary covered it in the post Patreon.com: Bringing Patronage Into The 21st Century. For those of you who skipped the link all you need to know is Patreon is a crowd-funding website that gives little payments to creators who work on a series of projects (making YouTube videos, writing blogs, drawing webcomics, etc.) instead of making a single, big project. In short you become a patron, and you agree to pay your artist $1.00 for every piece they create so that they can focus on making things you like.

It seems straightforward enough, doesn't it? There's just one, little problem that can really mess things up for a lot of creators. That little thing is the "earning per entry" field.

The What Now?

If you go to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page you'll see what I'm talking about easily enough. The left hand side of the page shows you how many patrons are supporting my blogs, and below that it shows you how much I get paid per blog entry.

If you're thinking "Wow, I wish I got paid $48 per blog entry" let me be the first to say I wish I was being paid that as well.

Then I could give up writing ad copy for lingerie catalogs and mail-order brides.

The difficulty with that little scale is that it doesn't take patrons' monthly limits into account. Say you became a patron (which you should totally do), and you decided to give me $3 per blog entry. I write an average of 8 blogs per month that I charge my patrons for, which means you'd be charged $24 at the end of the month. However, you might decide you're only willing to part with $10 per month, so you set your monthly cap at $10.

This is a really common patron strategy to avoid going over a budget, but it isn't reflected in that "paid per blog entry" field. According to my page I should make about $320 a month or so; in reality I make about $120. Not bad money, and I thank all of my patrons for their support because you all are allowing me to pay bills I wouldn't otherwise be able to pay, but it isn't enough that I can stop writing fake success stories for mail-order bride services (I really wish that was a joke... seriously, help me walk away from that job).

Why Does It Matter?

In a word: empathy.

Let's say you just discovered an author you like, and you're considering supporting them so they create more content that you like (hello to first-time visitors, by the way). You see they have a Patreon page, so you decide to go there and see if they need help. What you find is that this artist is getting $200 per entry, so you decide to just lean back and enjoy the content that's being created.

What you don't know is that each of those patrons has limited their support to $1 per month, so that $200 is all that artist is getting for a month's worth of work. No matter how much content gets created, or how much sweat equity that artist puts in, rent simply isn't going to get paid for the simple reason that a lot of potential patrons think the artist is well-taken-care of and doesn't need anyone else to brace the rickety platform they're standing on.

For a lull in the depression discussion, have a laugh at this silly goat.

Some of you reading over those numbers will be thinking "what a shame that artists and authors have one more hurdle to overcome in pursuing their careers," and some of you will be thinking, "pshaw, that's a lot of money just doing something you'd be doing for fun anyway." To those first people I say thank you for your compassion, and to those second people I'd ask you to read Why Do People Hate Artists Who Expect To Be Paid? Go ahead, I'll wait.

Finished? Good, glad we're all back on the same page.

Now Then, Would You Like A Free Book?

Now that I've made my point about how you can't always judge an artist's income based on his or her Patreon page I'd like to make a pitch for your patronage. If you become a patron during March 2015 and pledge at least $1 per month (not per entry, just per month) then in addition to that warm feeling of helping an artist stand on his own two feet I'll also give you a free book! No strings attached, you just pledge at least $1, and I give you a book.

For my patrons who are reading this, all you have to do is increase your limit by at least $1 per month and I'll extend you the same gift! Tell your family, tell your friends, and if you're not sure whether or not the sorts of things I write are the kinds of books you'd like to read then have a look at my short story "Blackwater" in the free preview of SNAFU: An Anthology of Military Horror, or check out a high fantasy black ops team busting heads and breaking chains in "The Irregulars" a story feature in Paizo's Pathfinder Tales.

Also if you want to make sure you get all of my updates then be sure you follow me on Facebook and Tumblr!

Author's Fight Club: Rules For Writing Better Fight Scenes

You know how most people think they'd totally win in a fight if one broke out? About how, despite their lack of any formal training, experience, or research on the subject they're completely convinced that if someone demanded their money or called them out for wearing white after Labor Day that they would be able to give that person what-for?

Writing fight scenes is a lot like that. Everyone thinks they can do it, until it comes time to actually put up or shut up.

When in doubt, rip it out.

Writing a fight scene is about more than just describing action or spicing up your story. These scenes need to show the audience new sides of a character, and to let actions speak in ways that words can't. They need to draw readers in, and they have to get the blood pounding. Lastly, like every other scene you ever write, your fight scenes have to pop!

Here are some do's and do not's to help you accomplish these goals.

Rule One: Observe The Masters

Good readers make good writers; this is something we all know. If you want to learn how to weave political intrigue you read A Song of Ice and Fire, and if you want to write better cosmic horror you pick up At The Mountains of Madness. Tolkien paints the hero's journey step-by-step, and Robert B. Parker provides some of the best private detective stories this side of Dashiell Hammett and Mickey Spillane. The point is that the best way to learn how to write fight scenes is to find authors widely regarded as crafting good action. You need to see the kinds of terms they use, observe the ways they ratchet up tension, and really understand the elements that make the violence machine rev.

You could also buy The Big Bad II if you want to see some great examples.

What you should absolutely not do is watch a bunch of action movies. Why shouldn't you do that? Primarily because they're two different mediums. What works on the big screen (or even the small screen) often sounds patently ridiculous if you write it down in your novel. By reading action scenes you understand what works and what doesn't, when you should give your reader a blow-by-blow of a fight and when you should just describe the impression of a fight.

Rule Two: Write What You Know (And Learn If You Don't Know)

While most authors don't have the luxury of being ex-military intelligence like James Bond author Ian Fleming that doesn't mean you can't get out of your chair and get some hands-on experience. There is no substitute for doing, which is why you should consider taking a martial arts class, meeting with a boxing trainer, or maybe contacting a local historical re-enactment group who could teach you how to sword fight.

Just think, you could write this off on your taxes!

Even if all you're doing is putting on pads and doing some light sparring the benefits of actually going through the motions are invaluable. You'll be able to describe first hand how it feels to land a blow, what kinds of strikes are being used, and if you're not quick enough what it feels like when you're the one who's on the receiving end of a bell-ringer. Practice long enough and you might gain other helpful insights into your characters and stories.

Rule Three: Make It About More Than The Fight

Everyone loves a nice, refreshing brawl, but as the author you need to ask what this fight scene is adding to your story. What is it showing that the reader needs to know that you can't show any better way? For example has your lead been saying he doesn't get into fights for the past ten chapters, and this is meant to show the audience what happens when he goes off the chain? Does your villain's fighting style reveal anything about him? Is it short and brutal, relying on crippling and killing opponents with his bare hands, or is he the sort of man who pulls a trigger and walks away?

Do the knuckle spikes represent crippling self-doubt and overcompensation?

Fights can be about more than the fighters, too. They can act as a gauge for what's possible, and even accepted in the world your story takes place in. For example is your story set in the seedy underbelly of the city, where back alley bloodletting is a common part of life? Or is your character's violent responses something that marks her as an outsider, a savage to be avoided? Fight scenes are rocks that you can throw in the pond, and depending on what sort of rocks and how you throw them you can make some pretty interesting ripples.

Rule Four: The Human Body is Tougher (And More Frail) Than You Think

I'm going to share a story to illustrate this example. A long time ago I was tasked with editing a client's manuscript. I asked her to send me the first three chapters and we would see if we could work together based on that sample. There are no words to describe how poorly written the thing I was sent was, but of all its many sins its primary one seemed to be a total lack of understanding regarding how human anatomy works.

The opening scene dealt with a teenage boy getting into a row with his father. His dad felt his son's long hair was too feminine, and the son decided to mouth off to his old man. What followed was a page and a half of one of the most brutal beatings I have seen put into print. The son, barely half the size of his domineering father, was repeatedly punched at full strength, had his face slammed into the corner of the kitchen island several times, was bodily dragged upstairs by his hair (proving that in some circumstances it was indeed too long), handcuffed to a radiator and then whipped. The author clarified that he was indeed whipped with a bullwhip, not a quirt or a lash. He was then left there overnight where he wet himself, soaking his wounds with his own urine.

Now it is perfectly possible for someone to survive that kind of treatment. With proper medical attention and therapy it's possible that he'd even return to a relative normal. However a character who received treatment like this on the regular would have some serious scars to show for it (not to mention a hospital record that would set off every alarm bell in existence), but in this particular work he was able to just take a shower and put on some band-aids to pass for normal.

She may have been raised by fast-healing mutants though, I try not to judge.

Before you write a fight scene you need to understand the basics of how the body works. You need to understand what happens when someone gets shot, or stabbed. Most importantly you need to know what sort of damage certain things do so you can ask yourself if that's the sort of trauma you want your lead to inflict or receive. Nothing is worse than action-hero syndrome; a condition whose symptom is when your lead gets injured in a fight, and then in the next chapter has shrugged off wounds that should have put the character in traction.

Rule Five: This Is Not A Comic Book

I read a lot of short stories in a year. Most collections get forgotten, but a very few of them get noted in my memory. Some because they are good, others because they are terrible. The Darker Mask was one of the latter, and I could not bring myself to read more than a few of the stories in it.

The reason? Authors tried to literally describe comic book action.

If that made your head hurt, read the Big Bad II instead. We don't do that here.

I mentioned this earlier, but it bears repeating; visual media work because they are visual. Action movies are pretty because they're filmed and choreographed to look good. Comic books work because they're illustrated. Do not, I repeat do not try to describe fight scenes in this way. I don't care how many souped-up vampires, cage-fighting werewolves, mutating spec-ops soldiers, or parkour demons you have in your story; don't do this. Find a metaphor that describes the feeling if you have to, but if you attempt to have your lead doing triple-back flips while firing two guns in the air you're not going to impress your readers. You're going to upset them, and they will stop reading.

Rule Six: Change it Up

So let's say you wrote a great fight scene. It's gripping, shows depth of character, illustrates the world, and gets the reader's bloodlust up. Good job! So how are you going to top it? Fight scenes and sex scenes are cousins, and one of the features they share is that if you do the same thing over and over again it's going to get boring. Your lead can only quick draw his long iron and plug three bad guys so many times before it gets old.

Also like sex scenes you can't just change up the moves and hope your reader doesn't notice. You need to use different language, different tension, and each fight scene has to contribute to the story in a new and different way. Otherwise you're likely to wind up with one really good bit of action repeated until the audience closes the covers.

Rule Seven: (Edit) Keep Your Tone Punchy

There have been some complaints that this rules list was vague, and didn't cover examples. So I have decided to add rule number seven (which should really be number one, but I digress). This rule is very simple, and it's one that should in intuitive to writers. Simply stated it says:

"Use words, metaphors, and a pace that matches the action you wish to portray."

This sounds simple, and indeed it is. So is boxing, fencing, or hitting a bulls-eye with a handgun with enough practice. The point of this rule is that your fight scenes should have a pace and a word choice that reflects the fight. For example, say that you're writing a fist fight between two characters. Punches are flying, elbows are digging, and both parties are going whole hog. You want your audience to really feel the blows as they land, and to get a sense of the pain being inflicted. To do that you need to use the right words, and you need to pull your reader in.

Here's an example.

"Paul led with his left foot and punched Peter. He followed up the first blow with a second, pushing Peter back as he tried to protect himself."

That's a basic, if boring description of what's going on. How can you fix it? Well if you wanted to make it a little more bare-knuckled you might instead say something like:

"Paul sank his fist into Peter's guts, driving the breath out of the smaller man. He snarled, hammering his fists down again and again. Peter stumbled back, blood running from his nose and mouth, unable to do more than get his guard up."

We have more indicative action words, and it's changed the tone of the scene. It's gone from a simple, ho-hum fight to something where people are really out to hurt each other. We refer not just to the ferocity of the strikes, but also to the damage they're doing. If you want to evoke different images though, you might try something like this:

"Paul crossed the room with murder writ large on his face. Peter put his hands up, tried to say something, but Paul was listening to a darker voice. His fist went in clean, but came back bloody. Peter's lips burst against his teeth, but Paul wouldn't stop. Splinters of teeth joined the blood, and eventually the words stopped."

The tone shifts, and the action's punchiness alters. The second seems much more deliberate, and as a result a little more brutal. You'll notice what you don't see in these examples though. You don't see the names of martial art strikes, or labels for the blows. Because your audience might not know what a flying butterfly kick or a spinning back fist looks like. So whenever you can describe the motion of the body, and the results of the fight. Even if you're not describing the fight itself you need to bring across the tone of what it feels like.

As always thanks for dropping by The Literary Mercenary, and if you'd like to help support me then stop by my Patreon page. Also if you pledge at least $1 per month this March I'll give you a free book as well as my gratitude! Lastly if you want to make sure you're not missing any of my updates then be sure you follow me on Facebook and Tumblr!

Blackheath Dawn Is A Place For Writers To Get The Help They Need

When I first decided I was going to write fiction for a living I was 14 years old. It seemed like a simple enough career path, honestly; you write stories, get them published, and keep doing that until you have a huge catalog of books under your belt. People buy your books, you get fat royalty checks, and it's bye-bye day job, hello book signings!

There was just one problem; I had no idea how to get from where I was to where I needed to be.

Now remember, take a left at Albuquerque.

Like any schmuck convinced of his own manifest destiny I set off into the publishing wilds with my dreams under my arm, and a head full of story ideas. I made a lot of mis-steps, walked right past a dozen good opportunities, and got caught by at least one scam. In time I figured out what I was doing wrong, I changed my approach, and re-aligned my perceptions. I kept kicking down doors, taking whatever publishing work I could get, and approaching companies big and small with an outstretched hand and a ready business card. Part of the reason I started The Literary Mercenary was because I wanted to give other authors and hopeful authors a resource that would provide the kinds of information I could have really used when I was starting out.

It's in the same spirit of that intent that I recommend my fellow writers check out Blackheath Dawn.

What Is Blackheath Dawn?

According to the Blackheath Dawn website the company is a co-creative platform for writers and partners. That sounds like jargon mainly because it is. Put in simple terms Blackheath Dawn is a British organization that offers publishing services to new and established writers (things like manuscript editing and polishing, cover art design, etc.) so they can make their books look as good as possible. These services aren't free, so make sure you read the fine print if you intend on using them.

That's the business side of things, and it isn't why you should check them out.

Because if you look a little deeper you'll find...

The reason you should check out Blackheath Dawn is because it provides need-to-know information to writers. From articles about the creative process to updates on writing competitions and warnings about scams and fakes this site is a one-stop-shop for useful facts. Whether it's figuring out how to use your blog to sell books, turning freelance jobs into regularly-paying gigs, or any of a hundred other topics Blackheath Dawn can help.

Before you decide to click the link and head over there though, keep in mind that the site IS British. While storytelling craft is pretty universal it's a good idea to check and be sure that the particular publishing subject works the same in your country as it does in the U.K.

If you do stop by and find something interesting, or a topic you'd like to see me cover here at The Literary Mercenary just leave it in the comments! If you would like to help support this blog then stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page and become a patron today; even $1 a month can make a big difference. If you want to make sure you don't miss any of my updates then be sure you're also following me on Facebook and Tumblr!

Inspiration, Black Magic, and Spite: The Creation of "Little Gods" in The Big Bad II

As I warned people way back in my first post I occasionally take time to talk about what I'm doing with my career. Today is one of those posts, and this is the reason why.

Buy The Big Bad II on Amazon! Seriously, do it.

This book, as you might have guessed, is an anthology edited by John G. Hartness (he hosted a guest post of mine titled Stories Beyond Good and Evil) and Emily Lavin Leverett. The 24 stories inside the collection are all about bad characters doing some truly evil things, and they're the protagonists we follow. My story, "Little Gods" is one of the contributions to the book. As such today I'd like to talk a little bit about that story, about inspiration, and about how some of the best ideas will come at you out of sheer spite.

Inspiration Comes In Many Forms

I do not remember the title, or even the complete plot, of the first modern fantasy book I read. I do remember I was about 10 or 11 years old, I found it in a stack of my grandfather's old dollar store paperbacks, and the cover was a thing of pulp fiction glory. It was the traditional shot of a detective in an overcoat and fedora with his back to the wall and his gat in his hand looking down a dark alley with a beautiful dame pressed up against him, except the alley was full of a black cloud covered in red eyes, and the dame had pale skin and two bright red pinpricks on her neck. As you might guess the story was about a private eye who took a job from a vampire. They questioned trolls, sweated ghouls, and used shapeshifting magic and rune-etched bullets to cut a swath through the dark underbelly of this town.

I was completely and irredeemably hooked.

When people ask me how it feels to write, I just show them this image.

Like any avid reader who discovered a new genre I kept my eyes peeled for more. While a good private detective story would always hit the spot there was just something particularly satisfying about one of those stories that also involved a werewolf, or a vampire, or any of a trove of other beloved monsters. Over the years I realized something though; while there was a lot of modern fantasy on the market there were definite sour notes ringing in my ears.

What were some of the cardinal sins I kept seeing the genre commit over and over again? Well there was using mythical figures as props and place holders instead of turning them into actual characters and parts of your story (Neil Gaiman's American Gods is the opposite of what I'm complaining about). Another big problem for me was seeing stories which had the power progression and magic system of a roleplaying game, which led to main characters starting off as low-powered boots on the ground and ended several books later with them fighting archangels with ancient swords and punching the devil in the face. I wanted to know why so many worlds had huge, global organizations to keep supernatural things a secret when those creatures had consistently kept themselves in the shadows for most of human civilization. I watched as story after story focused on spectacle and coolness factor without providing the sort of atmosphere, hard character choices, and gray areas I'd come to love.

That said, I have a rule when it comes to complaining. Don't criticize unless you're willing to step up and swing for the fences. That's why I decided to create my own modern fantasy world.

Chicago Strange and The Little Gods of The City

My goal in writing "Little Gods" was to craft a short, sharp story that would grab readers by the back of the neck and shove them face first into the demimonde. I wanted to bring readers to a place where the shadows are deeper, the alleys narrower, and the secrets more blasphemous than they're used to. A place where old magic rots in the meat beneath the concrete scabs of the city, and where horrors the uninitiated will never know dance in the darkness.

A place ruled by the Little Gods.

You can hear them if you pray hard, and listen harder.

What are the Little Gods you ask? They are the gods of the city, and the myths of the modern men and women. The Shoot-Up Man, who hands you a needle full of poison and a smile full of promises as you pass him on by. Skid Row Sue, the pretty girl in the tattered dress who wants you to take her home to join the bones in the basement. The Hook Man, who slavers and babbles while he stalks lovers' lane with murder on his mind. They're urban legends whose myths are told and re-told, keeping them vital and powerful.

The Little Gods are not omnipotent though; they can be killed. Their mantles, their crowns, their titles can be passed on to someone else. That's why urban legends take on new names, new faces, and their stories change over the years. There's always a killer lurking on highway two, and before the Hook Man it was Bloody Jacob with his father's straight razor. Before him it was Katey Hatchet the butcher's daughter. Before her it was the Wendigo, and before the Wendigo probably something else.

Our story opens up when someone decides to steal the crown of the Little God of Murder.

Darker Shades of Gray

The tale begins with the Sterile Saint putting word on the street that she wants Richard Blackheart to come find her. The warlock-for-hire comes looking for the Saint, and finds out that she has a plan to rob the Hook Man of his glory. All she needs is muscle, and she's willing to pay his price. There's more to Blackheart than his reputation suggests though, and his client finds out too late that when you buy trouble from the Bad Luck Man you get every penny of what you pay for.

There are a lot of reasons for you to read The Big Bad II in general, and "Little Gods" in particular. It's a story that provides all the darkness you could ask for, and an extra serving of grit for you to swish around in your cheek. It paints a picture of a uniquely bizarre world, and it gives you a snapshot of the kinds of macabre wonders that lurk in out-of-the-way places. Lastly though it strips out good and evil, leaving you in a world where there is only power and those who use it.

Who's the hero? Who's the villain? That's up to you when you get your copy of The Big Bad II.

As always loyal readers, thanks for stopping in and checking out what I have to say. If you'd like to help support me and this blog then stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page and become a patron today! If you're worried you might miss an update then make sure you also follow me on Facebook and Tumblr to stay in the loop.

What Is Public Domain, and What Does It Mean For Your Novel?

Two weeks ago I wrote a post titled Copyright Myths Authors Should Know About, and given how popular that post was I thought I'd follow it up with a piece about public domain. I'll explain what public domain is, how it works, and why that novel you're working on either is or isn't fan fiction, depending on the copyright of the original work.

So let's get started, shall we?

What Is Public Domain?

Public domain is a legal term used to describe a creative work (book, film, song, etc.) whose copyright either expired or never existed in the first place, thus making it something everyone can use. As a quick for instance the novel Dracula by Bram Stoker never had an American copyright, so the novel can be printed and distributed by any company looking to make a profit. If you want to make a movie based only off of Bram Stoker's novel, or write a story using those characters, then you my friend are good to go because there is no copyright for you to infringe on. You can get more about public domain's legal definition here at Wisegeek.

Public domain is what you get when you pull copyright's teeth.

How Do I Know If Something Is Public Domain?

Figuring out whether something is or isn't in the public domain can be difficult. Fortunately there's a handy list at Teaching Copyright which will show you how to identify whether something has lapsed into the public domain. As a general rule of thumb anything that's common knowledge (names, dates, and other facts), titles, common symbols, and everything published in the United States before 1923 are all public domain works. That includes classics like The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Three Musketeers, The Invisible Man, Frankenstein, and thousands of others.

Sounds legit.

Before you decide to just start using a work because it's old though you need to check to be sure it's actually lapsed into the public domain. While you won't catch any flak for writing a high fantasy version of the Iliad, characters like The Shadow might still be owned by someone.

Why Use Public Domain Works?

One of the big questions people have when it comes to public domain works, settings, and characters is why would you use them? After all shouldn't you try to create something truly unique, and stand on your own two feet as an artist?

Clearly this mysterious questioner is unaware of the pull of fan fiction.

'Nuff said.

People like what's familiar, and as evidenced by Hollywood re-imaginings and re-boots are popular as hell. They also have a long and storied tradition, particularly during the pulp fiction era when multiple writers would use ideas and mention items from other stories. This created a weird, shared-author canon that led to creations like the Cthulhu Mythos which was begun by H.P. Lovecraft, but contributed to by his contemporaries in their own stories.

In some cases public domain works allow you to use an established world to tell a new story. Whether it's the deserts of Barsoom or the darkened streets of Arkham, Massachusetts there's a huge amount of world-building done for you. The rules of the cosmos, the politics of the land, even the timeline is set for you. Not only that but there's a built-in fan base. If you say the word "Cthulhu" people will immediately zero in on you and give you a chance to throw out your line. If you tell someone you're writing faithful cases for Holmes and Watson then there is going to be an interest even if you don't have Benedict Cumberbatch signed on with your project.

Public domain worlds and characters are some of the most often told stories we have. While you might not become the next bestseller writing a story about how Frankenstein's monster and Edward Hyde had to team up to fight a legion of resurrected corpses possessed by demons and led by Jack the Ripper I guarantee you that book will turn a few heads. Before you get started though make sure that the characters as well as the work are public domain. Some of Bugs Bunny's earliest appearances are public domain for instance, but Bugs himself is a trademarked character which means that despite a few episodes of his antics being free for all he himself remains off limits.

If you'd like to support this blog then make sure you stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page and become a patron today! Even $1 a month can make a big difference when it comes to producing the best content for you. Also if you want to make sure you catch all of my updates make sure you follow me on Facebook and Tumblr as well!

The Hazards of Writing What You Know

Write what you know.

It's perhaps the first piece of serious writing advice anyone gets, and it is one of the most repeated pieces of advice writers hear. It's good advice too, because after all who better to write about homicide investigation, psychological therapy, or murder than someone who's done it before?

Pictured: An expert in all three.

While there is a certain amount of logic to this line of reasoning though there are hazards that come with taking these four words too closely to heart and not balancing them out with anything else. Some of those pitfalls include...

Being Too Thorough

There's a fine line between doing your research and boring your audience. Crime scene investigation is a good example. Being a CSI tech is an important job, and there's a lot of work involved in the job. But if you get into the minutia of the chemical sprays involved, the layers of precautions taken to protect you from contaminating the crime scene, and the sheer amount of tedium involved in testing and re-testing the same evidence to be sure that your results are correct chances are your audience is going to stop caring in a big damn hurry.

And then you inject the mitochondrial membrane with...

There's a difference between being realistic and covering every, single detail of what your professionals do. Have a doctor, a medical examiner, or a hairdresser as the lead in your story by all means, but don't bog your reader down with unnecessary details that don't advance the story or which aren't necessary for your book to make sense. Just because you find the process of how a public defender gets assigned a case to be fascinating doesn't mean your audience really cares so long as a lawyer shows up to defend the character accused of manslaughter.

You'll Never Branch Out

It's a good idea to write about situations and events you can make believable. That doesn't mean you should write about the same thing over and over again though. For instance you might hit your stride writing novels that always involve horses, and if you manage to carve a niche out doing that then good for you. If you aren't Dick Francis though you're going to start getting pretty predictable pretty quickly, especially when every book is about a jockey tracking down someone poisoning horses, rigging races, or corruption on a race track. I call this Scooby-Doo Syndrome, and it's a great way for your work to get stagnant in record time.

I'm sure there's another example here somewhere...

You should indeed write about things you know; it is never a good idea to make things up when you can track down the facts and get it right, especially if people reading your story will point out that you botched something important that puts a big hole right in the middle of your plot. So write what you know, but make sure you branch out so you know as much as possible.

It Will Be Hard To Keep Yourself Out Of The Story

Nothing is more embarrassing than realizing you've accidentally put yourself in your novel (except perhaps trying to explain to people that no, it's totally necessary for you to be mentioned by name in your own damn novel). Authors can avoid doing this by writing characters who come from different backgrounds, or who have different religions, ethnicities, sexual preferences, gender, etc. One of the easiest ways to put that necessary barrier between yourself and your character(s) is to write something other than what you already know.

Like being eloquent and well-spoken, perhaps?

There's always going to be a little of yourself in your characters, it's something you can't avoid and something you shouldn't really try to. But when your author photo and bio reads more like your character introduction than not it might be time to back up and re-evaluate whether you're too close to the project and what effect that's having on the book. Unless you're Ian Fleming... seriously Ian Fleming was James Bond.

No Advice Is Universal

It's important to remember no writing advice is absolute. The reason for that is because every book, just like every author is unique. What might be good for one particular young adult novel about the son of a sea hag coming into his heritage won't necessarily be good for a particular gritty, hard-boiled thriller about a detective chasing down the terrorist splinter-cell who killed her partner. You should always take advice, even good advice, with a grain of salt. Even if you find it right here at the Literary Mercenary.

Thanks for stopping by, and if you'd like to help support this blog then stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page and consider becoming a patron today! To ensure you don't miss any of my updates then ensure you follow me on Facebook and Tumblr as well!

Don't Put Real People In Your Novel... Seriously, Don't Do It

People say some confusing, frustrating, and outright rude things to writers. I've chronicled some of them in Things You Should Never Say To An Author and More Things You Should Never Say To An Author, but there's one which hasn't made it onto these lists yet. It's a question which only comes from people who've read your book (or at least some of it), and most of the time these people probably don't realize they're being insulting. That question?

Who is this character, really?

Your mother.

There seems to be this strange, mis-guided belief among the reading public that authors are all petty, vindictive dickheads who use their novels as an excuse to inflict pain and suffering on cardboard cut outs of people in their real lives. That is not to say there aren't authors who do this. I'm sure there are plenty of authors who've parodied childhood bullies, unpleasant in-laws, and ex-lovers in their books. But you shouldn't, and here's why.

Reason #1: This is Not Amateur Night

Think about the last person you met whose work included references to actual people from the author's actual life. Chances are good that instead of Ian Fleming (the author of James Bond who based a lot of the super spy's story on WWII-era spies he worked with) you're probably thinking of that kid from your high school creative writing class whose stories were all about rebellious teens and their cartoonishly restrictive parents. Or maybe you think of that one friend you had in college whose protagonists always wound up with beautiful girls who were suspiciously similar to classmates he could never get to go out with him.

You are shooting blanks, my friend.

The point is that taking real people from your life and sticking them right into your story is not good for your art. It prejudices you regarding the person portrayed (for good or for ill), and you are more likely to write them as a parody than as a character with any actual depth. You rarely know real people as deeply or as thoroughly as a character you've created from the ground up, because you don't have access to all the facts and background of real people. With characters you sort of need that.

Reason #2: There Might Be Consequences

Maybe you're thinking hey, this is my story and I'm not going to let some random guy on the Internet tell me how to write. And you're correct, you don't have to listen to me. The person you might have to listen to though is the fellow in the black robe holding the little wooden hammer.

Tough critics ain't got nothing on lawyers.

It is not overly common for people put into your novel to sue you, but it is definitely possible. The more famous you get, and the more money the book generates, the more likely a lawsuit becomes though. Maybe the guy you made into the villain feels this book is libelous. Maybe a woman whose character was murdered is claiming pain and suffering. The reasons can vary from the legitimate to the ridiculous, but even if you win the suit there are the legal fees, the cost of defense, and the fallout the accusation might generate. It could damage your reputation, get your book panned pretty harshly by critics, and if you're publishing with a company instead of doing it yourself it could get your book pulled from the shelves.

What You Should Do Instead

Unless your book is explicitly about real people (or parodies of real people) you should not attempt to cut large swaths out of reality and paste them onto the page. With that said though it is a good idea to carefully observe the people around you. Look at how they act, listen to the things they say, and attempt to understand their psychology. If you can do that then you'll end up creating deeper, more believable characters.

And how is that any different?

Because plagiarism is copying down a single document verbatim. Research is taking parts and pieces from different documents and gluing them together with your own words. The former is considered bad form, and is something you should avoid. The latter, while harder, ultimately creates a better finished product that you can't be sued over.

As always thanks for stopping by! If you'd like to help support this blog stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page and consider becoming a patron today. If you want to make sure you stay up to date on all my new entries and content then make sure to follow me on Facebook and Tumblr as well.

The Elevator Pitch: What It Is and Why You Need One

Every author dreams of finding themselves talking to a publisher who's a big deal. The kind of person who could open up a cell phone, call an assistant, and have a five-figure contract in your hands by tomorrow if he likes your idea. Maybe you're at a cocktail party and you just said something really witty, and he wipes a tear from his eye, gives you a smile, and says, "So, tell me about your book." This is it, the moment when you get a chance to hook that big fish, but you can see someone else making a beeline for him. You know you've got thirty seconds, maybe a minute, before the big deal's attention will move on and you'll be lost in the shuffle.

So what do you say?

The Elevator Pitch

The term elevator pitch has been used for decades because it refers to the scenario where you and the aforementioned important publisher are in an elevator. He's going up to his floor and you have between now and the time he gets there to sell him on your book. What you don't want is to be reaching for a good explanation, tossing in buzzwords, or rambling through the entire plot. You want something short, sweet, concise, and engaging.

In short, you want a hook.

Tell me more.

That's the whole point of your elevator pitch; you want your audience hooked on what you just said. You could go on at length about how your main character is a demon who is summoned by a young girl and bound into service to help her find a mysterious artifact of power, and how your lead has to contend with other persons who want the same item, but you'll start losing the thread of the tale and your listener will wander away. Instead you should say something like this:

"My novel is a gritty crime thriller in the spirit of The Maltese Falcon, if Sam Spade was a demon."

Whether modern fantasy is your genre or not, that is the kind of line that is going to make people stop and blink for a second or two. That's the reaction you want.

Elevator Pitches Are For More Than Just Publishers

Getting your book published is just the first step; you're going to have to help sell it too. That's why you don't want to hang up your elevator pitch just because your book is newly minted and breathing on the shelves. If it worked once then there's no reason it won't work again. And again. And again.

So what is this thing about?

The number of times you are going to be asked by people what your book is about is legion. Casual acquaintances, complete strangers, and everyone in between is going to ask you some variation of the question within ten minutes of learning you've had a book published. If your elevator pitch got a professional publisher interested then it should work great when you're being interviewed, when you're trying to hand sell your book at a convention, or when you just want to leave someone with an itch in their head to know more about what your book is really about.

Your book is an infinitely complex tale, and everyone is going to have a favorite character, moment, or scene. Your job is to be the travel agent and to find the hook that gets every reader to want to travel to this mythical land you've created.

Speaking of which, would you like to read a story about a budding romance between two young journalists forced onto a knife edge in the flickering light of the silver screen? Then check out Double Feature, my contribution to American Nightmare.

You know you want to...

As always thanks for stopping by The Literary Mercenary, and if you find the advice herein helpful stop by my Patreon page and consider becoming a patron today! Also if you want to get all of my updates then you should make sure to follow me on both Facebook and Tumblr so you don't miss a thing.