The Writer Will Take Your Questions Now #281 -- Recent New Favorites

Who's your favorite golden age pulp character that you discovered relatively recently? -- Jim Beard

For me, these new "faves" came from accepting gigs to write them for anthologies. I knew nothing of them prior to the research required to begin the writing, but felt instantly drawn to the characters as if they were old friends I'd been writing and reading for years.

For prose, they were Armless O'Neil and a certain beauty I can't discuss at the moment. But I really, really (can I add another really and get away with it?) loved writing and reading Armless O'Neil. He was a character I was immediately hooked on and felt like I "got" right off the bat.

To boil him down to his key character is simply this: Take Humphrey Bogart's Charlie Allnut out of The African Queen and give him a hook for a hand, then saddle him with adventures more typical of Allan Quatermain, then shake and pour, voila!

For comics, it would have to be The Blue Lady (whom I wrote in All Star Pulp Comics #1). She grabbed me the same way Armless did. She's a typical old-school pulp supporting lady rather than a heroine at first, but when she receives a ring that gives her the power to beat back guys to a pulp, she does what any other lady of the era would in a comic book and puts on a mask and costume to fight crime.

Even though she was only in three back-up features in Amazing Man Comics in the early 1940s (October '41 - January '42, to be precise) , I felt she needs and deserves more stories --which is something Jim Ritchey and I are currently working on. We'll keep you posted.

Marrying Plot and Character

Do you, Plot, take Character to be
your lawfully wedded concept?

We've long held that a story is that baby produced when plot and character get together and raise a family. 

Think of all the great stories you remember vividly. Now think about why you remember them so well. Chances are it's because the characters and the plots are a perfect mess of (overused word alert) synergy, or as we like to think of it, a marriage. 

But how does one make that marriage work? We went to a few of our favorite creators to find out.

How important to you are plot and character? Do you develop them separately or simultaneously as you work on a story?

James Ritchey III: Character informs plot, plot strengthens character -- if it doesn't you're doing it wrong. I start out with backstory strong enough to make the characters effectively REAL PEOPLE, who will tell me how they react. Being a keen observer of human behavior helps fill that in. Plot should put a notable rise in the anxiety levels of a protagonist. People aren't math.

Reginald Eric Brown II: Plot and characters are the story to me! Characters drive the plot. As I work out a potential story the main characters come in before the plot is really hashed out. The plot is a series of key events (usually with a start, middle and end in mind) with not much threading them together.

Selah Janel: They're both crucial to an interesting story. You have to care about the people involved in what's going on, but you also want to see them doing something fascinating. Plot makes characters react in ways that are unique unto themselves, and in turn those reactions can further the plot. They really go hand in hand.

Bobby Nash: Character is usually more important to me because I have to know the character to understand how he or she will react to the plot I place the character in the middle of to tell the story. Not all characters will handle situations the same way so I have to know my characters first.

Lee Houston Jr.: Plot and characters are very important, because they're the two main components of any good writing. Your characters should be as close to "real life" and believable as possible, despite whether they're superheroes, private detectives in the far flung future, or whatever. Plot is the story itself, be it a fantastic adventure, suspenseful mystery, or something in between. And while I don't have a specific style of developing either side, you want to reach a point where readers will wonder what their favorite creations of yours are up to and how they will react to a particular situation, survive the latest escapade, etc. 

Save these for cookies, not for stories.

Erwin K. Roberts: With a new character, I'd say development would be hand in hand with the plot. Unless I had long term plans for the character, then I might tweak the plot to fit the character's road map.

With an established character plot should not / must not drive major changes to the character. For example, I could put Dr. Watson on a horse and hand him a blazing six-shooter because the story was set in Deadwood. That worked well. Dr. Watson galloping thru central London like Dennis Weaver's McCloud character, is probably not going to work out well.

What are the dangers of using a "put character tab A in plot slot B" type of plotting? What are the advantages?

James Ritchey III: 'Cardboard' is the outcome. No advantages. You start with an outline, but if Johnny doesn't make you stop and change it if it's not fitting with Johnny's personality and reaction, it's a routine--a D&D session--not an intelligent plot.

Reginald Eric Brown II: One danger is you'd probably have a lot of characters doing things out of character. But if you are just trying to drive the plot forward and the action itself is something 'anyone' would do...who knows? I think most actions should be pretty character specific (at least how the character does it).
Selah Janel: For me, I feel like over-outlining or formula writing reduces the chance of discovering some excellent subplots or really cool possibilities. Some of my stronger stories or more favorite sections came about because what the characters were doing suddenly gave me new ideas. You can't rule out that sudden line or activity that might see trivial, but could lead to some really amazing plot twists. You really reduce the opportunity to do new things or gain reader empathy if you view your characters as just a type to stick in at some point of the plot to move it along. However, for some people I do realize that it keeps them moving ahead, and for certain genres I can see the benefit of it, especially if the story is shorter. If the story needs a brisk, narrative style, then I can see where it would be beneficial, maybe even favorable.

Bobby Nash: I’d say that method can lead to a big danger in possibly having cookie cutter characters. Now, that’s not to say there aren’t some really talented writers out there that could probably take this scenario and make it sing. Of course, the flip side of that is that if you know your characters, you can put character A in Plot Slot B and get one type of story. You can then drop Character B in the same plot slot and have a completely different story.

Not so fleshy, are they?

Lee Houston Jr.: Hollywood, especially television, does this all the time. How many characters suddenly get rich, only to discover that money can't buy happiness? Or finally discover true love, despite the fact they're currently with someone else?

The only true "advantage" is that it gives the writer a launching pad, plot-wise, for a story. But since every character should be and hopefully is different, this should create a different reaction/story every time.

Erwin K. Roberts: During the "let's get a bigger body count than Mack Bolan" days of the 1970's and early 1980's Leisure Books had a sister paperback imprint whose name escapes me at the moment. Both imprints had the exact same series characters. You know, the Bolan clone, the Dirty-Harry-Is-A-Wimp cop, and so on. And mostly the same guys wrote for both series. That ended up, thanks to lax editors, with the Marksman being sometimes called the Sharpshooter. And vice-versa.

Some entries in both tough cop series were written by a young Nelson DeMille. A few years ago someone brought out an anthology of his contributions to both series. The brief introduction made it clear that the only editorial changes involved a search and replace so that the cop was called "Keller" in all the stories.

How important is it to you that you couldn't replace a character with another without significantly changing the plot?

James Ritchey III: The 'hero's journey' guy or gal will behave one way, the 'Thomas Covenant'-type with dismal personal integrity will behave another. I cross that road when my chicken has hatched.

Reginald Eric Brown II: If the mechanisms for the story could allow for swapping characters without much of an explanation (i.e. a cop story: the protagonist just gets assigned a new partner) but otherwise..if the structure isn't there in the story itself it may seem jarring. But the writer could be going for jarring.

Selah Janel: It's very important to me that all my characters are different. Just like as people, we're unique in the story of our lives, I want my characters are like that in books. I want there to be options of different types of people for readers to connect or feel empathy for. I'm not into cranking out "the love interest" "the villain" "the tragic hero with a slight problem but it's okay because he's secretly Cthulhu's offspring." That works for a while, but eventually people want to know what drives the characters...the best stories make you wonder what a character is doing outside of the plot of the book. Each character has their own contributions, but those spring from who they are, not that they happen to fill a certain role.

But I really love the old bird!

Bobby Nash: Again, it all comes down to character. If the character of Bobby Nash was in a story and was taken out and replaced by the character of Sean Taylor, the characters would not approach the problem they same way so the story would be different depending on which character used. [And now, dammit, I have the urge to write the adventures of Bobby Nash and Sean Taylor. :) ]

Lee Houston Jr.: Very. Granted, the basic personality types (like heroes versus villains) will always follow similar ethics within their respective moral codes (good versus evil), but if every character reacted exactly the same to any given situation, the literary world would be pretty boring. It's up to the writer to avoid the cliches, even if they are using a "cookie cutter plot" for some reason.

Erwin K. Roberts: For an ongoing series good plot is a good plot, unless it it completely tied into the hero's circle of friends, family and associates. Small things, like Doctor Octopus renting a room from Aunt May, can be left out if you have to move the story to Daredevil's title. Doc Ock engaged to Aunt May is a much bigger hurtle.

I have successfully transferred a plot originally intended for funny animals to a post 9-11 human hero. Sure, the tone changed quite a bit. And some characters did, too. But a five-hundred word synopsis of both stories would read much the same.

What techniques do you use to ensure that your plots grow our of your characters -- or perhaps the inverse, your characters grow out of you plot -- in a organic, natural way that benefits the overall story? 

James Ritchey III: An example: I'm working on a story right now about a kid murdered by crooked cops.This is an amazing kid, a dreamer, poor but talented--and literally the future hope for billions of people. This very important child's dreams are ended over seeing a drug dealer being gunned down and robbed, that he hated in the first place--and his life is ended by an authority figure given great responsibility and trust, but who is a terrible person. I go full-on 'Rube Goldberg'. The character are fully developed, the basic plot informed and a metaphor for every life being sacred. But it's a loose framework, with details readily mutable--patterns can emerge that enhance the message, and if I try to force it, it can stall--but it's never written in stone, and you get to go back. Just...BE PREPARED, This is the way I do it, WHEN I do it, True Believer.

Reginald Eric Brown II: I like to use character alignments when I think about my characters and how they interact. Character alignments come from geeky things like Dungeons & Dragons and other games. It is a short way to be clear about what a character would or wouldn't do. There are two categories: Lawful/Chaotic and Evil/Neutral/Good. There is also true neutral (as in neutral/neutral). ex: Leia is lawful-good. Han Solo is Chaotic-good. Palpatine is Lawful-evil.

Great for catching mice and story ideas.

Selah Janel: I start with a basic plot or idea of where I want the story to go. Usually I have a definitive ending place, but as I start to write and gain insights to the characters, I'm more than willing to let them 'contribute.' If I get a sudden idea about something they might say or do, even if it makes things meander away from the outline for a bit, I'll gladly incorporate it if it either helps develop the characters or makes the whole story more interesting. A person's life isn't just point a to point b to point c in a pre-planned manner, so I'm not going to ignore tangents and other ideas as I'm writing about characters, either.

Bobby Nash: I follow my characters and see what they do. Then I write it down. That is, of course, oversimplifying things, but I don’t have a formula that I use for everything I write so it’s difficult to explain. Certainly, starting out with a good knowledge base of who the characters are helps.

Lee Houston Jr.: I think of my characters as real people, and treat them as such. Each story is another look at their respective lives. While the reader may not have read all the previous stories in chronological order, I write from the perspective that the characters are continuing from having experienced all the previous events of their life, even if I don't reference any specific details of the past in the current project.

What makes a horror book scary?

This week's roundtable is for READERS. (Or writers who double as readers in their spare time. What do mean, what's that?) As we move deeper into October and are rounding second base toward Halloween, let's talk scary.

What makes a book scary or creepy to you?

Blake Wilkie: It's all in the pacing and imagery in the descriptions. Like when a vampire bites someone. To say they just sink the fangs in doesn't work. Be descriptive. It it a slow indulging bite savoring the moment or a feral attack out of fierce hunger? Why is it one or the other? How does the bite feel to both involved, etc?

Danielle Piper: The scariest stories I've ever read were the ones that involved situations that could actually happen. I've seen far too much fantasy to be scared by it anymore. I despise authors who rehash something cool they saw in a movie or on TV, trying to steal a cool element they hope you're not familiar with already.

Janet Walden-West: As far as scary -- COULD it happen? Having been in close proximity to the Body Farm, zombies are the scariest thing ever.

Jim Comer: Dread. George Martin's Sandkings.

William D. Prystauk: I have never read a creepy or scary book. Yes, I've read horror, but it never resonates like a movie. Craven, King, Rice, and Nevill, have always fallen short.

Selah Janel: I like books that make me worry about whether the plot could happen to me or not. Even if it's outrageous, I want to suspend my belief long enough to be scared out of my mind by the possibilities. Ray Bradbury's story 'The Next in Line' is terrifying because it deals with the very real fears of death, claustrophobia, not being able to get out of a situation, plus the added element of a callous spouse. I cannot read this story without shuddering and seeing myself suffering from that sort of desperation and loneliness.

With stories that have elements of something supernatural or "other," I want to believe that there may be the faintest possibility that it could happen. It's why movies and books about possession are so terrifying - it's a concept that's so rooted in people's beliefs and faiths and deals with our most primal fears... plus, no matter how logical you try to be... what if it's real? What if it could happen to you and there's nothing you could do to stop it?

Herika Raymer: When a book explores things that could happen, that is what scares me. I prefer psychological thrillers, where the antagonist or monster is not completely shown, but there are plenty of stories where the monster is in plain sight that are just as chilling. I read alot of True Crime stories because of that, Ann Rule / Patricia Springer / Steve Jackson. Stories about pandemics that wipe out whole populations, as presented by Dean Koonz and Stephen King and a few others, those are creepy as well.

James Ritchey III: Scaryness. OH! And Creepyness. But seriously? By exploring stuff we're all creeped out by, and being smart about it. Psychological horror is ten times more effective than bending to genre stereotypes. Feral children and the amputation of hands freak me out, for instance. Three words for ya... Suspense, Suspense, Suspense -- THEN you rip the hapless victim's lungs out.

Joe Bonadonna: When it's in the realm of possibility.

What do writers try to do to make a book scary or creepy, but it just doesn't work for you?

William D. Prystauk: Atmosphere is what they seem to create most as well as characters you want to root for. However, I never feel a jolt. It's clear I need some compelling audio/video to move me along.

Jim Comer: Stephen King lost it somewhere.

Selah Janel: I think sometimes writers try to get a little too clever. It's a fine line -- I like detail, but if too many elements are thrown in together, sometimes it becomes a jumble or downright cartoonish. For example, I love a lot of Stephen King's titles. He's insanely good at what he does, a master. Misery is freaky because it's so possible, plus there's the isolation factor, and his short story N is one of the most terrifying things I've read in my life. However, they both share the fact that they're fairly linear stories that deal with one main problem or element. Annie Wilkes is the opposing force in Misery, and although N takes a little while to develop, there's no denying the tension as minds begin to unravel as the thing in the field is discovered.

Because those are so laser-focus and take their time, I tend to get frustrated with titles like IT and Rose Red. With IT, isn't it enough to have a killer clown? There is so much detail heaped in, that I can't even comprehend everything that's going on, and by the time IT's true nature is revealed I just...I don't know. It's not as scary to me as if it were just a weird clown chasing kids around trying to get them.  With Rose Red, there was so much buildup, so much amazing back story, that the ending almost fizzled. Parts of it gave me nightmares, but the ending pretty much ruined it for me because it was fairly tame in comparison. He's not the only one that's guilty of this -- a lot of horror writers try to cram in a lot, and then their endings have no hope of living up to expectations. Horror is walking a fine line as it is -- if you make things too over the top it can inadvertently trigger a humorous response, so writers have to be careful as to what their intentions with a story really are.

Herika Raymer: Splattergore. I do realize that making a story gory and visceral sells, but to me it is just gross. I have to have a story, not just blood and guts. In some cases, I prefer a story over blood and guts.

James Ritchey III: When they try to make it scary and creepy, but make it nonscary and noncreepy, instead -- by SUCKING as a writer -- by not thinking about what they're putting on the page.

Joe Bonadonna: Go for the jugular. When they want to be cerebral and miss hitting the emotions.

How much gore is too much, and does gore help you feel creeped out during a scary book?

Janet Walden-West: No such thing as too much as long as it moves the story.

William D. Prystauk: If gore is necessary to the story, so be it. However, gore itself does not lead to scary. However, if we love or hate the character, then the element of gore may take on a whole new meaning.

Jim Comer: No. Clive Barker.

Selah Janel: It depends. I generally am not a huge fan of gore, however, in some cases it's a necessity or definitely lends itself to a scene. Tom Hollands vampire transformation scenes in Lord of the Dead are grisly masterpieces that gave me a visceral reaction -- but he also took his time and built up to them so they conveyed a very real sense of danger.

The Sonja Blue series is a great example of how to do splatterpunk right. Nancy A. Collins immediately plunges the reader into a graphic nightmare and keeps them there, but is able to create empathetic characters to balance it out. Plus, her characters and world have reasons for being violent and graphic - Sonja isn't just part vampire or a slayer; she's ruled by the voices in her head and is obsessed with getting revenge on her accidental sire. These creatures play for keeps, so it makes sense to show every little detail.

I'm a huge fan of Clive Barker, because his gore works with his stories - but he also knows when to pull back. Stories like Rawhead Rex and The Midnight Meat Train do have their gross points, not gonna lie. But, those elements don't rule the whole story, so when you stumble upon them you almost have to re-read them to make sure you got that detail right. It's a punch in the stomach, a knock in the teeth. You realize "Oh my God, THAT'S what could happen!?" He plays those scenes absolutely right, otherwise the premises in each story could be too over-the-top or borderline cartoonish. He makes sure to play on people's visceral emotions and not just write another monster story.

Not every horror story needs gore, because not everything that scares us is about shedding blood. The Haunting of Hill House is a great example of subtle horror with a big pay-off. The first time I read this, I was totally confused as to whether the hauntings are real or in Eleanor's head... and either way, the thought of each is freaky as hell because of the way things are portrayed.

Herika Raymer: I guess it depends. On the one hand I read where Hannibal was eating his hunter's brains while the man was still alive and it creeped me out, usually I would just say 'ew' and move on. However, there was no explicit statement of blood and gore everywhere - I guess was got me was that it was clean. On the other hand I have read stories where a room decorated in splatter did creep me out, but those were mostly crime driven stories where the scenes were few and far between. I guess when gore is essentially on every other page, then I get desensitized to it. I do not want to 'be used to the gore', I want it to creep me out.

James Ritchey III: Between 15 and 25 percent gore are my only acceptable parameters--and that includes maiming, body horror and blood. Or more. I dunno--gore doesn't scare me. Read Vampire Junction for how to do it right.

Joe Bonadonna: Gore doesn't bother me, but it can get boring. Don't really need to know every little detail. Leave something to our imaginations.

The Writer Will Take Your Questions Now (#232) -- Comic Book Panels

Tell us a little about your approach to writing a comic book panel. 

Art by Martheus Wade

Okay. There are several different approaches writers use when describing a panel in a full-script format. (And that's not even including the plot-style format.) Let's go over those first, at least the ones I can remember.

The Movie Director:
This writer covers everything from the "camera angle" to the lighting and gives the artist almost no free rein to interpret the panel. Expect to see words like "panoramic" and "bird's eye view" and "worm's eye view" a lot in the script.

The Comic Book Editor:
This writer decides exactly how the borders of the panel will look and whether it will be a full-width panel taking up the middle third of the page, etc. He or she may also provide drawings of the suggested page layout.

Art by Jim Ritchey III

The Literary Maestro:
This writer uses prose in the manner of the great authors and reveals a character's motivations and past events leading up to this panel and how it matters in the grand scheme of the character's live from this point on. Read any of Devin Grayson's scripts to see this approach. They're amazing pieces of literature in and of themselves sometimes.

The Minimalist: This writer is pretty much bare bones with the panel description. He or she simply tells what happens and leaves the camera angles, mood, tone, page layout, etc. to the artist to decide. Chuck Dixon is a shining example of this approach.

Art by Richard Kohlrus

Now to answer the question on a more personal level. I am a blend of all of these charming folks, though my default tends to be the minimalist. Whether I'm a movie director or a minimalist can depend on whether I'm working with an artist I've worked with before or writing for an artist who may not know my quirks and may need more information. When I have a scene that's particularly important in a book that's not a straight-up action book, I'll sometimes slip into being the literary maestro for a panel or two. And when I've got a certain look in mind for a creator-owned book, don't be surprised to find me become the comic book editor for some of the important pages.

The trick in each of these cases (or for each of these writers, one might say) is to trust the artist to interpret and provide the script as a guideline, regardless of the type of approach, and not as a set-in-stone monument to your ability to create a story. The artists with whom I work often will improve on my scripts and ask me about rearranging page elements or changing the size or panels or using other, far better camera angles. It's my job to trust them and make sure the book is a partnership.

A Sneak Peek at The Blue Lady!

Page one from the story James Ritchey III and I did for All-Star Pulp Comics #1.

You know you like it. You know your want it. Now go buy it at: www.indyplanet.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6195