I think my dayjob has been getting revenge upon me for avoiding the office for a week while recovering. Back-to-back 10 hours days have been kicking me hard. I’m very much looking forward to the weekend, and am hoping to get back to working out once I get more sleep and recuperate somewhat.
I have plenty of projects ahead of me and more work to do. Cold Streets is approaching its climax. Tomorrow will be my first live-blogging of a board game, with an after-action report coming later in the week. And I continue to stir several things on the backburner as I keep everything at home on track as well as I can.
So that’s the latest from here. I hope to fully back in the swing of thing next week.
Don’t let the previous weeks of writerly pontification on heroes fool you.
I love a good villain.
I’ve discussed in the past how even the shittiest human beings we love to hate are still human beings. But the ones I love to hate are not my favorite villains. Like a hero’s growth, a villain’s gains (and their tantrums) have to be earned. And often, to earn these things, the villain has to earn at least some measure of our sympathy and understanding.
The most effective ones do so through charm and guile. You might even know they’re the villain at first. They may come across as a confidant, or even begin the tale as a trusted friend. If they begin in this way, and maintain what makes them sympathetic to both the hero and the reader, they grow much more effective. They draw us in, make us interested in what’s to come, and their betrayals and extreme measures cut even more deeply.
Expected or no, many great villains are best described as “masterminds”. They do not always take the direct approach to achieve their goals. They set their plans in motion carefully, sometimes before the story even begins. Their plans may not always have noble roots, but they often make logical sense, at least to them. They take steps carefully, following meticulous outlines, and trying to anticipate any moves a would-be hero would make. These things take time, and the best villanous plans only get better as they go on, like fine wine getting better with age.
Some masterminds let their henchmen do all of the dirty work, but others like to get into the thick of things themselves. Be it due to the belief that henchmen will never get it right, or simply wanting to ensure the plans come to fruition, they are there amongst both their lackeys and the innocent, overseeing the goings-on, sowing a little discord, perhaps trying to woo the heroes’ loved ones over to their side. This is where we can draw true distinctions between villainous archetypes, the true multi-faceted schemers from the more single-minded but occasionally far more frightening demagogues.
There are some who would accuse stories based on comic books of being simplistic, simple-minded, or even outright dumb. In same cases, I would be hard-pressed to argue. But lately, more than a few of these stories have given us villains in the mold I’ve discussed. While my initial impression of him was less than favorable, the Marvel movies’ take on Loki has really grown on me. Repeated viewings of Thor reveal one of the multi-faceted schemers I was talking about. Even when his true nature becomes apparent, he doesn’t necessarily fly off the handle as some megalomaniacs might. His move against Asgard in general and Odin in particular is calculated; he only truly loses his cool when he makes the dumb decision of sending the Destroyer after his brother. But that’s a discussion for another time. Suffice it to say, The Avengers definitely makes Loki a better villain and even improves his previous showing, and I can’t wait to see him in Thor: The Dark World.
As much as I still believe Bane is, as I’ve said, “Darth Vader without the pathos,” he is still an extremely effective villain in his own right. True, the scheme he’s executing in The Dark Knight Rises is not of his own making; yes, the reveal at the end undercuts a portion of his ideology. He was still presented and portrayed in a way that made him both memorable and fascinating. It’s been pointed out to me that Bane is a very deliberate and implacable sort of character. The gait of his steady walk, that little bit of swagger, the stare from behind his arcane mask – all of this adds up to someone you do NOT want to see walking towards you. What I like most about Bane is how effectively and systematically he tears down both our hero and the city that hero serves, bearing out the observations made by the Joker. In a way, Nolan’s Batman films are all about fear. Scarecrow exploited fear; the Joker created fear all his own; Bane is pretty much the personification of it. Take another look at the scene where Bane confronts Daggit, the corporate sleaze who thought to use Bane to take over Wayne Enterprises. Watch the expression on Daggit’s face when Bane lays his hand gently on the douchebag’s shoulder, and simply says, “Do you feel in charge?”
Villainy like this excites me. I love seeing the bad guys work with intelligence and guile, executing plans that, from their perspective, make sense. It makes the hero work harder, stumble, maybe even fall. This causes an even more rewarding apotheosis, because in most cases, a hero’s fall is followed by their rise from the ashes. And the best villains cause the greatest of falls. The hero and their struggles may be the meat and potatoes of your story, but if you want to get the most out of it, pair that hero with a fine villain the way you’d pair that meal with a fine wine.
I’m trying to think of the last time I was seriously injured. I don’t think it happened in conjunction with anything like flat tires and waiting for payday to roll around, however. It’s just been a comedy of errors here all week, and I’m still trying to roll with the punches.
I’ve managed to get a bit of writing done, and Cold Streets is moving along. I’m hopeful that we’ll have at least a working draft by the end of the summer. I’ve had a few ideas for Godslayer as well, and there’s also a non-novel project I’ve been working on that may require more than just an investment of time and words. More on that as it develops.
I’m still working from home and still recovering, I guess. So I better get back to that. Enjoy your weekend!
Last week we talked about the Chosen One. Specifically, we talked about how the Chosen One’s starting to look a little creaky and doesn’t hold up in modern storytelling. In all honesty, the divergence of heroes from the idea of them being the Chosen One is nothing new. Nobody would call Jay Gatsby, a ‘self-made’ man, or Holden Caufield, a disenfranchised youth on the cusp of adulthood, anything resembling ‘the Chosen One.’ But rather than diving into these great American novels (which you can do here and here, respectively), let’s stick with Harry Potter. Since we dissected the young wizard last week, let’s examine the anatomy of this would-be hero.
Also, while I refer to the main character as a ‘hero’, you can easily swap in ‘heroine’. These attributes have nothing to do with gender. Or species. But let’s get into it before I get bogged down in semantics.
First and foremost, as mentioned last week, Harry remains a human being throughout his arc. I don’t mean that he doesn’t evolve into a centaur or something; his emotions and thoughts and growth stay very grounded. This is essential for a would-be hero. Say what you want about Luke Skywalker’s whining or Steve Roger’s aw-shucks approach to others, they are part and parcel of the characters’ core and growth. Luke has to lose his innocense, Steve is faced with a world that cares nothing for his ideals, and Harry must overcome his initial adoration for the wizarding world to deal with the challenges to come.
What makes a hero a hero, in addition to being human, is a willingness, reluctant or otherwise, to put that humanity and their personal needs and wants aside for something greater than themselves. This is a conscious choice they make, a decision based on their situations and the abilities and resources at their disposal. Instead of it just being part of their destiny, the hero weighs the options in front of him and chooses the harder path, the one towards danger, the one that does not guarantee a happy ending.
And given that the hero is human, and that they made this hard choice, you can be certain things are going to go wrong. The machinations of the villains may not even need to become involved, either. Part of what makes a hero heroic is how they deal with adversity, and that includes their own fuck-ups. And the thing about human beings is, sooner or later, they are going to fuck up. The mistake can cause the hero harm, force the loss of progress, or even cost them the life of someone dear to them. But tragic or unfortunate as the moment itself can be, it’s the moments after that show us what a hero is really made of. Beyond any yammering about destiny or curses or fate or intervention, it is in these darkest moments that the heroes we remember, that we adore, that we idolize, shine the brightest.
These are what I consider to be the essential parts of a hero. Feel free to leave anything I might have missed in the comments!
This has been a week of, frankly, getting back in the goddamn saddle. My workouts are up, my dayjob is going well, and I’m back to writing in Cold Streets at the average rate of 350 words per weekday.
Not much else to report, if I’m honest. And I’m a bit busy at the moment with everything else that’s going on.
I really need to carve out more time to prep these posts beforehand.