Murdering Fantasy REPRINT

From April 27, 2016

Y’know, I’m beginning to think ill of publicists. They’ll take anybody’s money.

Today a publicist invited me to read a great new fantasy novel “about a female warrior with a kind heart.” When the Sarmatians went culturally extinct almost 2,000 years ago, that was the end of the only nation that actually produced female warriors on purpose. Look it up in Herodotus if you don’t believe me.

Since then, The Invincible Female Warrior has become the most commonplace–and the most annoying–cliche in half-baked fantasy literature. Along with crusty but benign old wizards and know-it-all elves: but really, Ms. Gorgeous with the unbeatable kung-fu moves is the worst of them all–except for maybe little kids with fantastic martial arts skills that enable them to wipe out full-grown male villains.

The book seems to be self-published. This is what gets me about self-publishing: no quality control. The publicist ought to be ashamed for taking this author’s money and trying to hoodwink people like me into reviewing it. I won’t give the author’s name because it just wouldn’t be humane. By the way, though, she wants a pretty hefty chunk of money for this book.

If you are an aspiring writer, this author commits a literary stumble that I’ve told you about before ( http://leeduigon.com/2015/10/21/a-silly-name-can-ruin-your-fantasy-novel/ ).

Do not name the principle characters in your story after familiar household products. Trust me, it doesn’t work. Here we have an Invincible Female Warrior named “Aleave.” Does that at all bring to mind the brand name of a popular headache medicine?

If you conscientiously avoid all the cliches that make fantasy so prone to low expectations on the readers’ part, and write a great story populated by memorable characters, and yet succumb to the temptation to give those characters names like Drano, Tylenol, Pennzoil, or Fancy Feast–well, you might as well not have written it at all.

‘”Christian Fiction”–a Stepchild’? (2015)

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It looks as fully appalling as any secular romance, doesn’t it?

You may be interested in the conversation that follows this post from 2015.

‘Christian Fiction’–a Stepchild?

Once upon a time it was hideously expensive to publish your own books. So there were vanity presses that would do it for you, it you paid them an exorbitant fee. But technology has changed all that, and made self-publishing much easier and less costly.

But for the qualifier “Christian” to alert the reader that the book will be inferior to its secular equivalent–well, we have to work to change that, we really do.

‘Murdering Fantasy’ (2016)

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People wonder why I got so mad at the library director when she assumed my books were self-published. Well, gee–“self-published” means no quality control. As in the following example.

Murdering Fantasy

It’s bad enough, you populate your fantasy with stock characters whose every action and reaction is totally predictable. Bad enough you name your lead characters after popular pain reliever products. But to do both at once is to create something monumentally bad.

I find it hard to get my books reviewed because so many potential reviewers and interviewers say, “But that’s just fantasy.” Like it’s all verbal cliches and stupid unbelievable characters named Feen-a-Mint or Tylenol.

Sometimes every step’s a struggle.

My Hometown Fans

Okay, I understand: people in your home town see you in the flesh and conclude you can’t be of any importance. It’s hard to impress people who know you.

My books used to occupy a nice place on the shelves at my local library. But since the arrival of a new library director, my books have been banished to a “Local Authors” ghetto in the most remote region of the building, along with Mrs. Gesundheit’s genealogical researches and Grandpa Fongo’s reflections on the best local parade of 1956. One more step, and these books would be under the floorboards.

When I asked the new library director to please restore my books to their former place, she looked at me quizzically, the way Godzilla looks at a power plant before he kicks it to smithereens, and said, “Well, you are self-published, aren’t you?” Like any Local Author couldn’t possibly be good enough to be paid for his work.

For the sake of those among you who do publish your own writing, I will limit the description of my reply to the word “no.”

Anyhow, I looked again today and my books are still in the Local Authors ghetto where no one in this town will ever discover them and read them.

You just can’t make it in your own home town.