WinterSteelWords

Did you know that Tolkien spent about 20years on research before he wrote The Lord of the Rings?

Even when he sat down to actually tell the story, he still needed another 12 or so years to go from first draft to publication. This is the far end of creative research of course. Frank Herbert took about 6 years of research to finally write Dune.

Anne Mcaffery spent about 7 years on smaller stories before she came up with The Dragonriders of Pern.

On the other end, Harlan Ellison famously wrote, “I have no Mouth, and I Must Scream,” in a single night. The point of all this is that the writing process has no set timeline- it takes as long as it takes.

When I was teaching creative writing, I always urged students not to rush a story. Take the time to know what you’re talking about. If your story takes place in pre-revolutionary France, then you damn well need to know everything there is to know about pre-revolutionary France: language, culture, history, politics, religion, EVERYTHING. Don’t be afraid of deep dives into background. IF you want your story to come alive, if you want your CHARACTERS to come alive, then it’s all about the background research and writing.

While traveling around the northeast these past few years, I’ve met several authors. Every now and then, I meet one who takes a strange kind of pride in how fast they write. It’s almost as though the selling point of their work is how fast they can pump it out. I met a crime fiction writer recently who bragged about writing 10,000 words a day. He also said he never edited one of his own books, never went back and reread one. He just wrote it in a few days and sent it off to the editor. And I read it.

I’m not a professional critic. I’m not even a college prof anymore. I’m just another idiot out here trying to sell my silly stories.

But.

When I was teaching, I always warned students that I could tell when they waited until the last minute, cranked out an essay as fast as they could, and turned it in without looking over it. The signs were always there: inconsistent names, contradictory timeline, potholes, shallow descriptions, etc. It’s really, really obvious when somebody just cranks out an assignment, versus someone who puts in the effort.

The 90s tv show Babylon 5 is a good example of proper preparation preventing piss-poor performance. J. Michael Straczynski spent years preparing the background of his story before he even began pitching to studios.

He knew the history of his sci-fi universe, he knew the various cultures, and he knew the broad plot line of the show. As a result, his world feels lived in. You might have heard that descriptor for other fantasy and/or sci-fi… it feels lived in. That’s the audience buying into the world. The world has history; it has weight. Stories that are just cranked out are shallow. Something happens for a few chapters and then it’s over. In Babylon 5, even in self-contained episodes, there are little flashes- news feeds talking about problems in other places, background characters celebrating a religious holiday, politics, debate, etc. In Stargate SG1, we’re often told of events happening elsewhere, beyond the immediate adventures of the main characters.

The story, we understand, is bigger than the four leads. This is the result of good, planned writing.

I’m in the final stretch of writing this sci-fi horror, which I really need to name. Part of what I’m doing is fleshing out the world. Decades before the events of the main plot, there was a pivotal moment: the Diaspora Mandate.

The ruling class, which now lives on Luna, declared that everyone had to leave Earth so that they could perform a reclamation. Eventually, one the biosphere is restored, people would be allowed back. Until then, everybody out of the pool. Because the Luna-born provided resources and other assistance, most people went willingly. But there were a few incidents. One of these was the Albion Uprising.

A group of factory workers refused to leave, to give up their homes. Luna sent in its military, and they violently put down the rebellion. The surviving workers were forcibly relocated.

All of this is deep background. I don’t talk about the Uprising. It’s mentioned in passing in much the same way people mention Pearl Harbor. It’s a date, an historical event. How it matters though comes through in character interaction. Ophelia, the main character, is Luna-born.

Her family’s wealthy and privileged. She’s only ever heard the story of the Albion Uprising through approved news feeds. But, her father was one of the Enforcers sent to put down the Uprising, and he only once, when drunk, told her a few vague stories. This affected her behavior- she donates to charities, volunteers with reclamation efforts. Now that she’s graduated from college, rather than taking a safe, easy job, she went to work for asteroid miners. Her guilt over the actions not only of her world, but her father, drove her out into the wilderness. There’s also Lou, an old miner who’s dying of a lung disease.

Lou was actually there, at the Albion Uprising. He saw Enforcers kill his parents. And now, a girl appears who has the same last name as one of the men with the guns. I never do a flashback chapter, nor do I have a detailed “here’s what happened” discussion. But it’s there. There is a tension between Ophelia and the other characters, specifically because of the societal, economic, and miltaristic history separating them. All of this is just background in what is, essentially, a monster story.

I could have just cranked out some monster thing. Here’s some people, ‘oh no, scary monster!’, nom noms all around, and the end. You’ve probably encountered stories in which the characters are so shallow they just vanish from memory. The late 80s slasher movies really have this problem. The killer is often memorable, but the characters, who we’re supposed to be sympathizing with, are empty placeholders. I’ve said before that the great trick of horror is that you have to give a damn about the people who are suffering. 80s horror turned to comedy when storytellers forgot this simple rule.

My advice this week is as follows: give your characters a past. Each person has a history, has drama, has wants and needs that emerge naturally from that history. And since every character has history, those histories are going to bump against each other. This can create tension. It doesn’t have to be overtly hostile. But, everybody has different opinions on history. Let that flesh out your world and its people. Your audience will respond.

This weekend, I’ll be attending the Seacoast Food Truck Festival. We’ll be in the parking lot of the Premium Outlets in Kittery, ME on saturday and Sunday. Admission fees will benefit the local HS girls soccer program. They’re going to have a clown, costumed characters, vendors, and a variety of food trucks from all over New England. Oh, and I heard some old burnout author will show up, as well.