‘My Fantasy Tool Kit’ (1)

From the classic BBC production of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

I’ve been expecting, any day now, word that my Bell Mountain novel No. 15, Ocean of Time, has been printed and is ready to be put on sale.

So let’s push the nooze aside and talk about fantasy.

My Fantasy Tool Kit (1)

(Well, now my computer is acting up. Wanna write a real fantasy that’s going to blow your readers’ minds? Write about a computer that actually works! Grrrr!)

Anyway, you need realistic characters or your fantasy ain’t goin’ nowhere.

How do you achieve realism when you’re writing about non-human characters you just made up?

It took me a very many years to learn this rule, but I’m giving it to you now for free:

Where realism can’t go, consistency will find the way.

Associate Producer: Geoffrey of Monmouth

Geoffrey of Monmouth | The Historian's Hut

One of the great challenges, and pleasures, of writing a fantasy novel is to invent a world that doesn’t exist and describe it in such a way that the reader can believe in it. Temporarily, at least. Permanently, that’s another story.

For inspiration I look to the Bible and to history. And one of the historians who’s just come aboard to help is Geoffrey of Monmouth, whose History of the Kings of Britain was the best-seller of the 12th century.

Geoffrey has long been accused of dealing in myths, legends, tall tales, twaddle, and bald-faced lies–just like they do to Herodotus. Every now and then archaeologists turn up something that shows that Herodotus wasn’t fibbing, after all. The same with Geoffrey.

Say what you will about him, Geoffrey of Monmouth could really spin a yarn. No one better. But I wouldn’t try to copy him.

No–what these senior colleagues, storytellers emeritus, do for me is to help me find a tone for the story that I’m telling–and for its setting. You want the reader to feel like he’s been there. And maybe was lucky to get home again.

Geoffrey writes about things that happened 500 to 1,000 years before his own time. He writes from a 12th century point of view. This is very valuable to me. The difference between us is, Geoffrey really did live in the 1100s and see things as a 12th century man would see them; but my setting is fictional, so I look to Geoffrey for pointers on setting a tone for his story. What kind of world is he writing about, and how can the reader enter it? Ditto for me.

And of course the writer can’t help wondering, “Have I done it right, this time?”

My Fantasy Tool Kit (8): Butt Out!

http://www.realtownblogs.com/members/Judith2/files/98%20pound.jpg[Every now and then I remember the purpose of this blog is to get you interested in my books–so please feel free to click “Books” and look them over.]

If you ever want to write a fantasy novel–or any other kind of novel, for that matter–that’ll be sheer torture to read, be sure to make a thinly-disguised version of yourself the hero of the story.

Not that the reader is going to recognize you. But most readers can recognize pure poppycock when they see it. And few are so dense that they can’t detect irrelevant personal issues from the writer barging in between the reader and the story.

When you’re telling a story, butt out! I take it for granted that no one wants to read about me–not when they could be reading about Wytt or Helki. [You’ll have to read my books to get to know these characters.] Nor do they want to read my opinions on politics or the problems of this modern world that I’m supposed to be taking them away from.

To any writer, the same advice: Get out of the way! Don’t be like the jidrool who gets up and shambles around in front of the screen in the most exciting part of the movie.

If you want your readers to believe in your characters, you have to believe in them first. Don’t make them extensions of yourself or of the people in your lives. Think of them as real. Don’t try to control every little thing they say or think or do. Get so deeply into them that they start to say and do things you never expected.

Yes, I know–if it was easy, everyone would do it. A lot of published authors can’t do it. But you don’t even want to imagine the mountain of wasted paper produced by those would-be authors who don’t even try to keep themselves out of the story. That no one ever spent any money to publish their work goes without saying.

We are always being advised, “Write what you know.” But that’s no way to go about creating imaginative fiction.

Caveat: Let no one take this to mean I endorse the practice of lazily omitting to do research and just “intuiting”–that is, making up–false information about something for which real facts are easily available. For Pete’s sake, do not write about tribal customs of the Navaho unless you first read up on it: the ghost of Tony Hillerman will show the Navaho exactly where to find you.