Search: “faq”

I got an interesting comment on the FAQ the other day. Well, on one of the social media sites where it’s pinned. Someone announced they were going to quit reading the Ex-Heroes books because they just learned “there was never going to be an actual ending.”  Which is true, but… it’s always been true. It’s one of the reasons pretty much every book in the series has ended with a quiet moment that could be “the end.” This was never a trilogy or heptalogy or something where it’d come to a neat, tidy, planned-out-from-the-beginning end.—and I’ve said this at least a hundred times in interviews, at cons, and just to random folks who’ve asked.

I wonder if this person’s gonna stop watching the MCU, too. Pretty sure there’s no “actual ending” planned for that. Or the James Bond franchise. I mean, how does somebody like that watch television? Did they wait seven years to make sure Elementarywould get an “actual ending” and not be cancelled between seasons like so many programs?

It’s funny because we’d just been talking about this at the Writers Coffeehouse last week (or two weeks ago at this point, I guess). How do you approach writing multiple, connected books? And one thing we talked about a lot was howthe books are connected. Because that’s going to have an effect on how I write them and the stories (or story) I end up telling..

…and then we spun off onto a bunch of usual segues.

Now, I’ll warn you right up front, there’s not going to be a lot of “how to” in this post. As I’ve said here a bunch of times, writing’s a very unique process.  You don’t write the way I do, I don’t write the way she does, she doesn’t write like you. So adding another layer on to that—find the best way to do this that works with the way you do that—is just going to be too much. It’s variables on top of variables.

What I’d like to do instead is throw some terminology at you and maybe some thoughts about how we can define some of those terms. Less instruction, a little more food for thought. Things I should keep in mind when I’m sitting down to smack my head against the keyboard.

All that said… let’s talk about stories and the different ways they can be connected. Because let’s face it, this is a big dream for a lot of folks–to have a group of characters, or maybe a world, that’s so cool people will pay us to write multiple books about them. For our purposes here, I want to break these multiple books down into three broad groups. I’m going to call them series, trilogies, and universes.

Also, let me be clear on something up front. I’m just saying “trilogy” for convenience. We could also say quadrilogy or hexalogy or any number of increasingly obscure words with that Greek-logos suffix. I’ll explain more when we get there.

Let’s start with a series. Simply put, this is an ongoing, open-ended collection of books or stories, almost always involving the same protagonists. If you think of a television series, that’s pretty much the same idea. I want every book to end with the potential of another book. It’s also not uncommon for these books to restore the status quo for our characters at the end, leaving them pretty close to where they began on a personal level. It’s why a lot of series get scoffed at as “plot-driven”–because not a lot happens with the characters on a story level.

You may have heard me mention that term before—series potential. That’s what we’re talking about. Each book could have—but doesn’t need to have—another book after it. If you stopped reading with this one, you’d probably be fine and feel like you’d read a complete story. But if I told you there’s another one, your first reaction shouldn’t be “What? How?” Editors love books with series potential. Seriously.

The trick here, of course, is it means I have to wrap up this story while also leaving space for another story. There’s a reason we’ve never seen a Bond movie that ends with “and peace reigned forever after.” And why we always see Jack Reacher wandering out of town at the end of every book.

Next up would be the trilogy. This is when my story’s set across a very specific set of books, rarely hitting double digits. And it’s been planned this way, in the same way I plan where the beginning and end of a book may be. Yeah, I’m saying trilogy for convenience but it could be four books or five—but I know how many there’s going to be when I start and it rarely changes. The Harry Potter books were always meant to cover his seven years at school, one year per book. Chuck Wendig’s Aftermath books are a trilogy (an actual one), as were both the Newsflesh and Parasitology books by Mira Grant a.k.a. Seanan McGuire.

One of the key things here is that even though this may be three or five or seven books, there’s only one main story running across them. It’s not uncommon for the books to have lots of dangling threads, or maybe even a full cliffhanger ending. And that’s okay in this case because we knowthere’s going to be another book. Again, cause this is all one story.

The other key thing, I think, is the story itself. I don’t want to plan out a trilogy when I really only have enough story for one book. Or plan on seven when I’ve only got enough for three. You get the idea. Despite the multiple books, we’re talking about a set, self-contained story, so I need to be honest with myself about how much story I’ve really got.

Again—sorry to be repetitive—I’m just using trilogy as an umbrella term for a single story told over a set number of books. I want to be clear because it’s a term that gets slapped on to a lot of different things and, to be honest, I don’t want to read someone’s six paragraph spiel in the comments about how valid duologies are or that, no, that ISN’T what a trilogy is because abcxyz.

Finally we have a universe. This is when a number of books have a shared background and common elements, but don’t necessarily connect in any way past that.  There are a lot of popular media-tie in ones, like Warhammer 40,000, Star Wars, and the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Heck, lots of comic publishers work with shared universes where their characters coexist, like Marvel, DC, or IDW’s Hasbroverse (where Rom the Spaceknight once bodyslammed Optimus Prime after killing some GI Joe team members who were secretly Dire Wraiths). You may have read a few books set in Paul F. Wilson’s Secret History of the World. All of these different universes include multiple plotlines and story arcs that stand completely independent of one another, even if we see some connective tissue here and there.

The important thing to remember here is that story universes rarely start out as such. They usually begin with a single series or trilogy, but then popularity demands a sequel or a prequel or a spin-off or what have you.

Another key thing in a universe is the world building. I just talked a few weeks ago about what’s possible within the reality of my story, and it’s important that the different stories within my universe don’t contradict each other. I can’t say magic doesn’t exist here, then have a sorcerer there. Aliens can’t attack the city but people one block over in another book are still insisting aliens aren’t real. When I get to the point of universe-building, consistency is key.

One last thing. Now that we’ve got these three broad definitions, let’s talk a little bit about exceptions. Well, about why I’m not really going to talk about them.

While there are times these three groups might overlap, the simple truth is it’s a much-later-in-my-career sort of thing. We have to acknowledge these exceptions happen after I’ve established my norm.  It’s just not something to be thinking about at an early stage of my career. Believe me, if I walk in to my first (or second, or third) meeting with a publisher saying “it’s a trilogy of trilogies set in a shared universe with…”

Well, honestly, I can probably say whatever I want at that point because the odds are pretty good everybody’s already tuned me out. I’d written ten fairly successful books before I got to say “I think this one’s going to be set in the same universe, but isn’t really going to be part of the same series.” And even then, it kinda made some people uneasy.

So if I want to start thinking those bigger, grander multiple-books thoughts… go for it. But I should try to keep a couple things in mind and be clear about what I’m really trying to write. Especially so I can be clear to interested parties.  

Speaking of writer-thoughts, if you missed it, earlier this week I did a mini interview with my friend Craig DiLouie where we talked about his new book Our War, his writing process, and stuff like that.

Next time, I want to address a software issue real quick.

Until then, go write.

But I gave you two this week to make up for it. Okay, so one of them was the updated FAQ, but it’s still an informative post.  Just maybe not the information you were hoping for.

So, one thing I’ve mentioned here once or thrice is the idea of believability. On some level, we need to accept this character or world as real, because that’s how their stories become real to us.  If a character or a world asks us to accept too much… well, we just can’t.  One too many coincidences or secret cults or hidden talents and… we’re out.  That willing suspension of disbelief gets shattered.

Of course, what’s “believable” is kind of tricky, isn’t it? I mean, we completely accept  a tavern with fifty different alien races in it when we’re watching a Star Wars movie.  But if I’m reading the latest addition to the Their Bright Ascendancy trilogy, well… that doesn’t work quite as well. And if this was an episode of Elementaryor even iZombie we’d just roll our eyes and talk about the days back when this was a good show.

(they’re both great shows, just to be clear—but not if they suddenly had alien bars in them)

When we start to get invested in a story, part of it is that we get a good feel for what kind of world this story is set in.  Does magic exist?  Or aliens?  Does everyone know about vampires or are they still living quietly in the shadows, unknown to the average person? Assuming they’re even real.

A big problem I stumble across on a semi-regular basis is when a writer tries to change the world too late in the story.  We’ve been reading about a story set in the real world and suddenly there are goblins and vampires.  Or it turns out we’ve all known about aliens since the ‘50s.  I mean, we teach about them in school.  In history class!

I was reading a book lately that was set in Victorian London (locations, names, and/or supernatural beings may have been changed to protect the relatively innocent). A take on “the great detective” trope, but it was fun and had a nice mystery aspect to it (hunting a Jack the Ripper-esque serial killer) and the dialogue and descriptions of London were just fantastic.  I was really enjoying it.  Until…

A little more than halfway through the book, maybe close to 60 or 70% in, we find out that the serial killer is actually the Frankenstein Monster, gathering parts for yet another attempt at electro-alchemically creating a mate for himself.  It just came out of nowhere  Not so much a twist (it wasn’t really set up) as a weird reveal.  And it kind of… well, it knocked me out of the story.  It was a cool idea, but suddenly this was a very different world than I’d been led to believe. The type of characters who could be in it had drastically shifted. I had to reconsider a lot of things, and one of the biggest was “does this story still make sense?  Is this world still believable?”

Needless to say, I had to readjust my expectations as far as where this story sat on the plausibility/believability scale.  Which meant I then had to go back and reconsider everything that had already happened.  Were all those earlier moment still believable, now that I knew they were happening in this world?

And this isn’t to mean I came to a dead stop and started checking things off in a plus or minus column. It was just one of those moments where an instinctive reaction forces everything up into my brain.  I stopped enjoying and started analyzing. I was much more in my head for the rest of the story.

It’s kinda like wandering through a pool on a hot day. You may be really enjoying the cool water, the feeling of being outside, being with friends, all of it.  It might feel fantastic. But then you hit a spot of water that’s just a little warmer—just that certain amountwarmer—and now that one small-but-significant change has made you very aware of the pool.  Who else is in the pool. Where are they?  Where were they?  Now you’re not so sure if the pool’s a great place anymore. Sure, it may be nothing, but it’s kinda in your head now, how much water is on your skin.

And that’s a small change.  Imagine if you bumped up against a dead rat in the pool.  Or a shark. How the hell is there a shark in the pool?  Was it there all long?  Was it invited to this party, too? Is it responsible for the warm spot?

We need to feel comfortable in the world of the story.  I don’t want my readers to feel confused or betrayed. Bruce Joel Rubin made a wonderful observation years back that we experience stories in our gut, but we analyze them in our head.  So the moment we go into our head, trying to figure out what’s up with that warm spot, we start to lose our readers.

If I had to put a loose rule to it, I think any serious world-change like this has to be the end of act one/start of act two moment.  It’s part of the easing-in process.  The Matrix.  Red Rising. Harry Potter.  In all of these stories, the discovery that the world was than what we’d first been led to believe comes fairly early.  It’s probably notable that it’s also what gets all these stories really going.  This discovery is, arguably, the inciting incident, as folks have been known to call it.

Now, this moment can come later, sure.  I’m betting everybody reading this knows at least three or four “We were on Earth all along” stories.  But when these stories work—and that’s kind of a rare thing if you think about it—it’s because this is a very carefully set up twist.  And like any good twist, it’s been set up so the big reveal makes things fall perfectly into place rather than scatter across the table and spill onto the floor.

I’d also add that just because we’re flexing that suspension of disbelief with one thing doesn’t mean another thing will slide off with no problem. Finding out the serial killer we’re chasing is Frankenstein doesn’t mean we’ll also accept that he leads a taskforce of steampunk cyborgs that protect the earth from alien invaders.  Just because there are vampires doesn’t mean I’ll buy that Abraham Lincoln really was a vampire hunter sanctioned by the Vatican.

So if halfway through my story I’m introducing an element that’s going to change how readers look at my world, I should take a good, long look at it.  How big of a change is it?  Is it very late in the story?  Is it coming out of nowhere?

Is it necessary?

Oh and hey, speaking of the Writers Coffeehouse (as I did way up above), there’s one this Sunday, noon to three, at the new Dark Delicacies in Burbank. There’s also going to be one at San Diego Comic-Con, one week from today, from 2:30 to 4:30, and that one’s going to have me, Jonathan Maberry, Delilah Dawson, Scott Sigler. and maybe some other folks, too.  Come hang out with us and talk about writing. Plus I’m also doing the dystopian book club at the Last Bookstore this Sunday, too.

Next time… well, next time is Comic-Con, like I said. I probably won’t have a post up next week, but I may have a few fun cartoons and such if you want to check back in.  And then maybe the week after that I’ll blab about cool camera shots.

Until then… go write.

            It’s been another six months and a few things have happened, so I thought it’d be worth updating this…

            One aspect of being on social media a lot is getting asked questions.  Which is overall fun and cool.  But some times I get asked the same questions.  Again and again.  I suppose you could say they’re… frequently asked.  This is less fun and cool.

            The ugly truth is it can really wear on you to answer the same questions again and again because some folks won’t scroll down two or three posts or up through the comments.  Between this blog, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook… well, it adds up to a lot of people repeating the same questions.  Again and again.

            (No, I’m not singling you out because you just asked a question. You just did it once without thinking.  You’re cool, no worries. 

            (I’m talking about that other guy.  Him.  You know who I mean…)

            Anyway… rather than get testy and frustrated with someone for asking the same question I already answered three times this morning in the same thread, I figured I’d scribble up answers to the most common questions I get and pin them on a lot of my social media pages.

            Then when people ask me anyway, I can point them at this.

            Or maybe I won’t say anything, cause… look, there’s an FAQ pinned right here.

            Well on Valentine’s Day you’ll (hopefully) be listening to Dead Moon, a sort of sci-fi horror story about zombies on the Moon and stuff like that.  No, seriously.  It’s kinda fun and pulpy and creepy.  That’s exclusively with Audible for six months, sooo… we’ll probably talk more about that when I update this FAQ in July or August.

         And speaking of July, late this summer, if everything times out, you should see another Audible exclusive from me– another beautiful Threshold book.  It’s got a few threads, one of which involves a lonely guy named Murdoch who’s trying to deal with his childhood sweetheart, Anne, coming back into his life, and also her family… which is technically his Family, too.  Also a guy named Chase who’s, ironically, on the run from something.  And there’s some other characters in it you may recognize, too.

            No, I don’t have a title for it yet.  You’ll know when I do.  But later this summer—maybe early fall—you should see that.

            And if all times out well, I’m already roughing out a new standalone book that you (hopefully) will see… maybe this time next year?  It’s still far out, so it’s hard to say.

2) Is Ex-Isle the last Ex book?

            Not 100% sure, but… yeah, looks that way.
            The truth is, every series has a limited life.  Very few people decide to start on book three of a series—they go back and start at book one.  So book one always sells the best for almost every series.  Attrition says not as many people show up for book two, even less show up for book three, etc, etc.  It’s always a downward slope heading for that red line where things aren’t profitable.  None of the Ex-Heroes books have ever lost money (thank you all for that), but all the numbers say book six…  Well, things don’t look great for book six where that red line’s concerned.
            The nails aren’t all in the coffin (do they still nail coffins shut?).  Any number of things could make the series surge in popularity and get the publisher interested in putting out another book or two.  Depending on how things work out, I might even be able to apply a little leverage.  But for now…  Ex-Tension is going to stay on that back burner.  Sorry.

            Okay, look, I love the Ex-Heroes books.  Hopefully you all know that.  Those characters and stories got me where I am today.  I love that there are so many fans who feel passionately about it.  I had tons of fun writing them.
            But…

            The simple truth is, if there were enough people willing to pay for another book, the publisher would still be willing to put it out.  Sure, some folks might pay twice as much to get one more book, but experience tells me three or four times as many people wouldn’t pay anything (for one reason or another).  There’s pretty much no way this works out.

            Plus, my schedule’s set up months in advance.  As I hinted at above, I already know what projects I’m working on into 2020.  Doing something like this means I haveto plan on said Kickstarter succeeding and put it into my schedule, which then means a gaping hole in my schedule when it doesn’t.

            Again, sorry.

            … I just answered this in question #1. 

            This is what I’m taking about!  You’re not even really reading this, are you?  You’re just skimming.  Come on!  I wrote all these out.  You could at least put a little effort into this.

            Jeeeeesh…
           

            Thresholdis the overall, umbrella name for the shared universe I kinda-sorta inadvertently kicked off seven years ago with 14.  There are some books that are definitely part of an overall linear story, a “series” if you will, and some that just fall under the umbrella.  Every Marvel movie is part of the MCU, but not every Marvel movie is a direct sequel to The Avengers.  Or if you prefer, lots of Stephen King books tie into the Dark Tower mythology, but they’re not all part of the Dark Tower series.  Does that make sense?

            This makes things a bit awkward for me, because marketing folks love series  (book one, book two, etc–heck, I’ve seen places where Rogue One is marketed as Star Wars Book #18) and some of them are reeeeeaally pushing Threshold as a pure, straightforward series, even though I’ve said again and again it isn’t.  This may give some folks false expectations of what some books are going to be about, and I apologize if that’s you.  I don’t want to lie to you, but I also don’t want to have to explain every book in advance (see #10).  So I’m just trying to make things extra-good and fun so you won’t be too bothered that maybe you went in expecting Avengers: Endgame, and you ended up getting Ant Man and the Wasp. 

            Again, if that makes sense.

            As a name, Thresholdfits in a few different ways.  It’s part of a doorway, and doorways figure big into most of this series. It also refers to reaching a certain critical level—another recurring issue in these stories. And, finally, it’s also a reference to an old H.P. Lovecraft short story.

            Which has nothing to do with anything, but I thought it was kinda cool…

6) So how does Dead Moon fit into this?

            As it happens, I wrote a whole book explaining this.

            (see #1, above)

            There’s a very solid argument to be made that the majority of my fanbase is audiobook listeners.  Odd, I know, but there it is.  Audible knows this, too, and because of this they made me an extremely generous offer for exclusiverights to those two Threshold books (Dead Moon and that other one I mentioned up above).  Both of these are going to be audiobook only for the first six months they’re out.  After that, we’re talking to some folks, and (as I said above) I should have some answers for you by the time I update this FAQ.

            And, yeah, I know this is going to make some of you grind your teeth. I’m very sorry if you’re die-hard against audiobooks and this leaves you out of the loop for a bit. My agent and I talked about it a lot, believe me (even with that generous offer).  Every other day on the phone for about six weeks. 

            In the end, I really wanted to tell these stories and—for a couple different reasons—this was the best way to do it. Again, I’m sorry if this puts you in a bad spot.

            Very doubtful.  I think a lot of the fun of The Junkie Quatrain was the overlapping- interconnected nature of the stories.  It’d be tough to replicate that without feeling kinda forced and awkward.  I think we’ll probably have to draw our own conclusions about what eventually happened to those characters.  Well, the surviving characters.
            Although, one of them may have already shown up somewhere else…

            This sounds like an easy question, I know, but there’s about a dozen conditionals to any answer I give.  Figure a huge chunk of each contract is just all the different terms and conditions for when and if and how people get paid.

            For example… format matters, sure, but so does where you bought the book.  And when.  And how many people bought it before you. And if it was on sale. And who was actually holding the sale.  And all of this changes in every contract.  What’s true for, say, The Fold may not be true for Paradox Bound.

            TL;DR—just buy the format you like.

            To be honest, I’m still thrilled people talk about anything I wrote. Seriously.  What I can’t stand are spoilers.

            I’m thrilled Yakko enjoyed it so much when the protagonist found that and discovered this and learned about them.  When he tells people about it, though—no matter what his intentions—Yakko’s ensuring that other folks won’t have as much fun with the book as he did.  It’s like if I tell you how a magician does all her tricks and then take you to see her performance.  You’re not supposed to see a magic show being aware of the resolutions in advance and knowing how all the tricks work.  It kills most of the fun, because you’ve destroyed the structure that created a sense of wonder and discovery.

            That’s why I avoid those questions in interviews, and why I always delete posts that reveal information from the back half of a book (yep, that’s probably what happened to your post).  It doesn’t matter if the rest of the post was positive or negative—spoilers get deleted.

            And not just my stories!  You shouldn’t mess up other stories, either. Movies, TV—if you enjoyed it, try to give other people a chance to enjoy it the same way.

           If you suffer from the heartbreak of spoilers Tourettes and absolutely must discuss your fan theories about my books, there are a couple secret groups on Facebook.  There’s one for the Threshold books here, and one for the Ex-Heroes series here.

            Right now…probably not

            To be honest, last year was such a mad jumble with working on books and going to cons and moving that… well, I didn’t make a hell of a lot of plans for this year.

            At the moment, the only thing on my schedule is WonderCon at the end of March.  Absolutely nothing else.  Not even sure I’m going to wander down to SDCC this year, to be honest.

            But—things change all the time.  If you want to see me at your local con, you need to let them know!  Yeah, them, not me.  I’m willing to go almost anywhere I’m invited, but if I’m not invited… well, there’s not much I can do.  So, email them, tweet them, post on their Instagram account.  Reach out and let your voice be heard.

            And keep in mind that most cons finalize their guest list five or six months in advance, so if your local con’s in three weeks… odds are not in your favor.  Sorry.

            Okay, there’s a misunderstanding of how Hollywoodworks in this sort of question.  When you see a film adaptation or TV series, it means the studio went to the writer, not the other way around.  I mean, if it was just about the writer saying “hey, make this into a movie,” wouldn’t most books be adapted by now?  Everyone would be doing it.
            Alas, I have zero say in whether or not Netflix wants to do an Ex-Heroes series or SyFy does aLycanthrope Robinson Crusoe movie.  They’re looking for things that have piqued a certain level of interest, and so far these stories of mine have only just scraped that threshold. 
            No, me (or you) writing the screenplay won’t make a difference, unless your name happens to be Shane Black, James Gunn, or David Koepp—and even then it’s not a sure thing.  Because in case you forgot…

13) Wasn’t there going to be a TV series based on 14?
            Yeah, in theory.  A few years ago I was approached by Team Downey, the personal production company of that guy from Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.  Turned out he’s a fan of 14and he wanted to do something with it.  So a deal was struck with his company and Warner Brothers TV.
            But… there are no sure things in  Hollywood.  It’s all a big game of if.  If a pilot gets greenlit, if it gets shot, if it turns out okay, if the assorted executives like it, if it gets picked up…  Plus, some of these ifs are on a time limit.  WB paid to extend that time limit once (which got a bunch of us very hopeful), but… in the end, it just didn’t happen.

            Which all kinda goes with what I said up above in #11.  Robert Downey, Jr. had signed on as an executive producer and that wasn’t enough to get the show made. 
            I still get to say he liked one of my books, though.

14) So, is there anything we can do to help?
            Well, buying books is always a good step.  Hollywoodlikes to see big sales numbers and interest.  If you want to see something—anything—on the air, talk about it a lot on social media.  Write reviews on websites.  Producers/ directors/ actors all hear about this stuff the same way you do.  If #ParadoxBound or #DeadMoon started trending on Twitter tomorrow, there’d probably be a film deal within a week.
            (true fact—an easy way to help do this?  Don’t buy books from Amazon.  Write reviews there, sure, absolutely, but Amazon doesn’t report sales figures, so they don’t get included in things like the NYT Bestsellers list.  Yeah, I know, a purchase from your local bookstore might cost a buck or three more, but it’s a purchase Hollywood is more likely to notice)

            (Plus, then you’re one of those cool people who supports local businesses…)
            (Yeah, Amazon owns Audible, but Audible reports audiobook sales.  I don’t know why.  Nobody does. It’s a mystery of the universe…)

            Short answer… no.

            Part of this is a time issue—if I say yes to some folks, in the spirit of fairness I have to say yes to everyone. Now I’m spending all my time doing critiques instead of writing. Not to sound too mercenary, but… writing is how I earn my living.  So when someone asks me to read stuff, they’re asking me to give up a few hours of work.  

            Plus, I do have this ranty blog sitting right here, y’know, with over a decade of writing advice and tips.

            It’s also a legal thing.  Some folks are lawsuit-crazy, often for no reason,, and the bad ones ruin it for everyone else. Let’s say Phoebe gives me a piece of fanfic to read where she has Harry and Eli showing up at a certain post-apocalyptic film studio.  And then, a few years from now, I decide to do a big crossover story. 

            That’s when Phoebe sues me for stealing her material.  

            Yeah, it sounds stupid, but I’ve seen this happen so many times.  Seriously.  Hell, I’ve actually been subpoenaed and deposed over a case with less behind it than that example I just made up.

            This is why I’m verrrry leery when I get a long message along the lines of “Hey, you know what should happen next with the Ex-Heroes series…”  It’s why some writers have responded with cease & desist orders when they get sent stuff like this.  It’s also why I’m not part of those above-mentioned spoiler groups.

           So, the long answer is also… no.  And if you send stuff without asking, I’ll delete it unread, just like spam mail. Sorry.

            Nope.  Nothing against you (well… most of you), I just don’t like Goodreads.  I’d explain why, but I’m taking the Thumper approach.

            I post nothing there and spend as little time there as possible (which usually works out to “no time”).  If you see anything there from “me,” it’s something someone else posted.  I understand a lot of folks love the site and if it works for you, that’s fantastic.  Glad you like it.

            I won’t be there.

17) What’s up with your Facebook page?

            Man.  Facebook.  What a mess, huh?

            I started that Facebook fan page ten years ago, dreaming of a day when maybe—maybe—I’d have five hundred followers. Now it’s closing in on twenty times that and I have kinda regular thoughts about deleting the page.

            Simple truth is, Facebook’s made it almost pointless to have a fan page.  They’ve tweaked their algorithms so my posts have gone from being seen by 70-85% of fans to barely scraping 20% most of the time, all with the goal of having me pay to reach the people who’ve already said they want to see my posts.  They’ve overcomplicated pages so it takes more time to do the same things I’ve always done.  Hell, they’ve actually made it faster and easier to schedule posts than it is to live-post and directly interact with people.

            And sure–it’s their site.  They have the right to do what they want with it and run it the way they like.  And of course they absolutely deserve to make money off it.  I’m a progressive, but I still believe in (regulated) capitalism.

            But then that brings us to all Facebook’s little side ventures.  Which all seem to boil down to the buying and selling of… well, us, at the core.  As many folks have pointed out, Facebook’s real product is us, and their real customers are the people buying and using everything about us. 

            Maybe I’m old fashioned, but when someone talks casually about buying and selling people… it makes me uncomfortable.
            So I’ve scaled way, way back on Facebook.  Personally and professionally.  I have no plans to change this in the near future.

18) What about Twitter or Instagram?

            I’m @PeterClines on Twitter.  Fair warning–as some of you may have figured out, I’m progressive and I’m a bit more political there.   On Saturdays I also drink a lot and live-tweet bad movies so…  hey, you know what you’re getting into.   I’ll also say right up front I don’t believe in Twitter high school, where I’m supposed to follow someone just because they followed me. So if that’s your approach, I’ll save you time now…

            Instagram (also @PeterClines) is probably the geekiest of  my social medias.  How is that possible, you ask?  Well, there’s little toy soldiers, LEGO, classic toys.  And cats.  Can’t have an Instagram account without cats.

            Yeah, I know Instagram’s also owned by Facebook, but (for the moment) they’re not being quite so reprehensible over there.  So (also for the moment) I’ll still be there.

            And that should answer about 90% of your questions, yes…?

            Sorry for missing last week.  Just had a couple of those jumbled days where I kept getting called away for other things.  And while I had a topic for this week, it never quite gelled the way I wanted it to in my head.  Although four or five others did, so I’m set for a while here.

            (topic suggestions are always welcome in the comments, though)

            Anyway…

            I wanted to talk a bit today about godlike characters.  Not just in the sense of robes and brilliant auras and hurling thunderbolts.  Sometimes it’s that rugged, locked-and-loaded man or maybe the tall, super-competent blonde.  Really, it’s anyone who is, for one reason or another, way beyond the level of every other character in the story.

            Which really means they’re out of everyone’s league.

            Quick segue.

            One thing that I see come up in discussions of different open-play, MMPORG type games is a balance between players.  For purposes of this discussion, it’s when the overall population of the game has hit a level where it’s essentially unable to support new players.  If everybody’s level 72, it makes it tough for anybody to interact at level one. All those 72’s are using their bigger, badder gear to go on bigger, badder missions, where they’ll face bigger, badder monsters and get even rewarded with even… well, you get the point.

            Meanwhile, I’m over here in the goblin village, poking at things with a knife and hoping I can get my dagger skill up to 65%…

            And if we actually have to fight each other?  Well, I don’t have a prayer.  I mean, we can argue that statistically there’s a chance, but really… there’s no chance.  And from the 72’s point of view, I mean, can we even call it a wasted three seconds?  Yeah, there may be some jerks who just like beating up the noobs, but for everyone else… yeah, this gets to be kind of boring, right?

            See where I’m going with this?

            Stories need this kind of balance, too.  We want characters to have a chance at achieving their goals, but we also don’t want it to be easy.  If the story leans too far one way or the other, it just gets dull.  For everyone.

            F’r example… 

            If my antagonistis all-powerful, my hero never has a chance.  That’s boring as hell.  There might be a few dramatic moments, if the writer really knows what they’re doing, but probably not.  We all know how it’s going to end, and if we know where it’s going… well, then this is all just noise.
            Plus, it’s discouraging.  We identify with the heroes.  That’s why we’re reading.  And to see someone we identify with get beaten down again and again by an opponent we absolutely know they can’t beat…

            Well, it doesn’t make for a lot of repeat reads, let’s say that.

            Keep in mind, too, my antagonist doesn’t have to be a seven foot-tall somebody in body armor and a chrome skull mask.  The high school mean girl, the abusive drill sergeant, even society in general– any of these can be the antagonist.  And, again, if there’s no chance whatsoever of beating the antagonist, my story isn’t going to hold most people’s interest.

            I’ll also point out that beating the antagonist doesn’t always mean bringing about their ultimate, final defeat.  But as far as our immediate story’s concerned, the bad guy needs to have a chance to succeed at their immediate goals.  No chance means no interest.

            Now, as I hinted above, the flipside of this is also true.  If my main character has absolutely no chance of ever being stopped or hindered in any way, that’s not very interesting either.  I’ve talked about this once or thrice before.  When Yakko can effortlessly deal with anything the antagonist, nature, or the universe itself throws at him, it gets boring really fast.  If Dot’s prepared and trained for everything, to the point there’s little or no chance of failure, that means there’s no challenge.  And no challenge means… well…
            An analogy I’ve mentioned before is me getting a glass of Diet Pepsi.  Not exactly something epic stories are built around.  You’re not going to see teams of people stealing ships, racing down city streets, or forming Fellowships around me as we undertake the great adventure of going to the kitchen and opening the fridge.  Because it’s mundane.  It’s easy. There’s absolutely no challenge in it.

            Even if something might be challenging for us, personally, it doesn’t mean we want to watch someone else do it with no effort.  I’m pretty sure if a zombie plague ever descended on the world, I’d be one of those folks gone in the first week or two.  But I don’t have any interest in reading three hundred pages of someone who walks through the undead apocalypse like it’s a guided tour.  Yeah, no matter how colorful the descriptions are of zombies being blown apart.
            Y’see, Timmy, if there’s no challenge—because either my protagonist or antagonist are too powerful—it means there’s not much of a plot.  As I’ve mentioned before, no plot makes it really tough to have a story.  And you may have noticed there’s not a big market for high-stakes character descriptions.
            I also want to toss out one other downside to nigh-omnipotent characters. Gods are boring as hell.  Seriously.  They’re tough to relate to, and if people can’t relate to my characters, they’re probably not going to make any investment in them.  Good characters have needs and desires and flaws, but godlike powers tend to nullify most of those things. 

            Even if it’s not actual powers, it can be dull.  When you have characters who can do anything and succeed at anything… it just gets boring fast.  We like reading about problems, not about potential problems that were planned for and avoided.

            True fact—one I worked very hard at.  My Ex-Heroesbooks have a super-competent character named Stealth.  She’s their version of Batman.  Every book in the series has at least one example of her demonstrating how she’s hyper-trained and/or four steps ahead of everyone else.

            But…

            Every book also has at least one example of something getting past her. Something she didn’t catch or didn’t think of or somebody else figures out first.  She’s world’s greatest detective, but she’s still fallible.  She not perfect.

            If you’ve got a powerful, competent character in one of your stories, take another look at them.  Do they need to be that strong?  Would they be more interesting if there were two or three scenarios they hadn’t been planning for over the past six months?  Isn’t your story going to be a bit more interesting if success and failure both seem like viable outcomes?

            I think it would. 

            But that’s just me.

            Next time I want to talk about something a little more campy.

            And maybe update the FAQ.

            Until then… go write.