So, lately I've been reading some sci-fi and fantasy books, to give me the insight I need to write my own book. Right now I'm reading Robert Jordan, who, I am told, is 15 pounds of awesome in a 5 pound bag. The book I'm on now, They Eye of the World, is the first book in his incredibly long series. I like it pretty well, but it's the exact formula I know I'll never be able to write, and that makes me wonder if I've got the right mindset to appeal to America's readers. I suppose, there's some small chance that my version of what's cool might be considered “revolutionary” or something, but more likely than not it will be considered “bad.”
It all begins with Tolkien's hobbits, it continues with Harry Potter, and it's fully at work in Jordan's books. It's the “unwilling hero,” thing, and it's completely ridiculous. It's also not hard. Just to prove it, I will now craft a scene of gripping drama, and of stunning appeal.
Blimf Nerfherder glanced over his shoulder, and winced. Pritti Innerstrenf was still glaring at him, despite his stammered apologies, her fists planted firmly on her hips.
“Boys.” She muttered just loud enough for him to hear. “Always doing foolish things that women have the sense to avoid.”
His cheeks burned with embarassment, his lips felt dry, but Blimf followed Wizard Malvor out of earshot, where they could talk.
“Young Blimf,” growled Malvor, his voice insistent and forceful, “you must understand. You have the blood of the Haaxor Leetness in your veins, it is your destiny to totally rock out, to throw haymakers and roundhouses that would fell a trolle, and to fly through the darkness of night like a ninja, only much, much sweeter and more original.”
Blimf's mouth fell agape, and he could only stammer. The black cloaked wizard grasped him tightly by the shoulder and looked into his eyes.
“Do you understand me boy? You will gain tons of awesome special moves, and your pecs will be majorly cut. You will have some sort of totally nasty katana, and maybe a crossbow if you want, and a trenchcoat, and you'll be totally unique and cool.”
He pulled loose from the wizard's grasp, stammering, and stumbled backwards, holding his hands up, as if to protect himself from the horrible words he heard. “N-no! I... I'm... I'm just a farmboy! I just want to tend my goats, and eat stew, and maybe wash my ass once a week! I don't want any of this! I'm just a farmer!”
And... Scene... See, it's not hard. Unwilling hero... It's not hard, but, unfortunately, it's stupid as hell, and totally formulaic, and it has nothing to do with reality or human nature.
Let's recap, in case you've never met a teenage boy. What do teenage boys want?
- To have special powers like a ninja.
- To be “different“ and “unique“ but in an awesome way (i.e. a ninja).
- To not be like their parents, and to live somewhere else, preferrably in a dojo or lair (i.e. a ninja).
- A katana and trenchcoat (ninja).
And what do they get in every fucking fantasy novel ever? They get 1-4. And what do they do? Cry about it. That's not realistic. If you picked some random fat kid out of the nearest high school, and turned him into a barbarian warrior, he would not be upset about it, and wish he could just go back to getting wedgies in the locker room after gym, cause that's what's “familliar“ to him.
Crackheads are familliar with sucking dick for crack. That doesn't mean they'd keep doing it if they gained the magic power to turn poop into crack.
But, apparently my grasp on the obvious is not what it takes to sell a million books. Instead, we just imitate Tolkien, right down to the three unwilling hobbits... I mean, young wizards... I mean farmboys... Whatever. The formula... Then we tack our own particular style on top, and voila.
In the case of Robert Jordan, his three big things are feminism, lips, and mulled wine. Every woman in his book is a strong, independant spirit, who constantly shock and silence men with wit and force of will. Every single scene involves at least five references to licking of lips, dry lips, some sort of lip related commentary. It's said that the eyes are the windows of the soul, but I think Robert Jordan took that to mean that the lips must therefore be the doors. Then there's the mulled wine. It's not that huge in his actual book, but every single idiot fanfic story you read will have something like “Legolas Orlando ran his finger around the brim of his mug of mulled wine, which was easy, because his Dexterity is 20, and that's really, really high.”
In any case, that's my bitch about the unwilling hero, how gay it is, and how that means that whatever book I write will either be universally hated, or I will have to sell out big.