As many of you know, I am a fantasy novel junkie. Wait, actually that’s a lie. Let me rephrase: I
like to believe I’m a fantasy novel junkie. But in truth, I know a few of those, and as I ponder the label, I don’t think I qualify to as one of them.
Let me explain.
For starters, it takes me a long time (relatively speaking) to actually finish a book. (It’s sad, it’s pathetic, I know.) This is largely due to the fact that my free reading time is squeezed into that precious pre-sleep twilight of evening or perhaps the rare lazy weekend. My “Reading List” shelf is in a constant state of growth, like an untamable fungus, infusing my heart with guilt every time I glance its way. I sometimes find myself forced to select only books which hold an above average promise of greatness, or a twinge of personal obligation a la high recommendations. (Though I hope to never repeat my
Twilight mistake… co-workers “favorite books” have now been black listed.)
Sometimes it feels as though fantasy has a tainted reputation among the reading community in general. I often receive quizzical stares from clients who enter my office as I guard the front desk, enjoying
The Magicians to pass the time. “Is that any good?” they sometimes ask with a none-too-subtle hint of condescension.
Look buddy, it’s not just for kids!
It is a sad fact that there is an endless smorgasbord of bad fantasy available in the world, peppered amongst the gems, and readers of the genre often learn to become mine field negotiators. We readers arm ourselves against the perils of poorly written fiction by becoming incredibly fickle in our reading selection, save the brave few who can mow a story down in a matter of hours regardless of its quality. (These talented folks are whom I think of when I originally used the term “fantasy junkie.”)
So, why am I so drawn to the genre of science fiction and fantasy in the first place? First, let me quote one of the most talented writers in the business:
“In many ways, science fiction and fantasy readers are the best audience in the world to write for. They’re open-minded and intelligent. They want to think as well as feel, understand as well as dream. Above all, they want to be led into places that no one has ever visited before. It’s a privilege to tell stories to these readers, and an honor when they applaud the tales you tell.”
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Orson Scott Card,
How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy
Reading that just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. (Did you feel it?) Mr. Card, please have my blog babies.
Yes, I enjoy fantasy partly because I simply never grew out of a childish love of dragons, magic, and flawed heroes in leather jerkins. I relish large battles, political intrigue, and the idea of being called to something greater than myself. In many ways I also find spiritual renewal in many of the themes, since at its core fantasy is usually about the ongoing struggle between good and evil. The stakes are always high, and the reward is usually paramount.
For me, the hardest part about reading a complete flop is the feeling of betrayal. Sometimes, as I crack open a new novel, I become like a small child; timidly stepping into an unfamiliar house, eyes full of wonder. I have come so far already; I have read the teaser on the back, admired the cover art, studied the map, and bravely taken that first cautious step into the waters of the opening paragraph. By now this is almost a guarantee that I will at least finish the novel, no matter how bad. In my heart of hearts, no matter how rough things get, I will cling to the hope that something in the end will reward me for all my hard work, my tenacity to stick with the protagonist through thick and thin, and my willingness to believe that in the end it will have been worth the time and energy.
Needless to say, when I feel an author has betrayed me, I don’t forget the crime easily. The well that holds my devout love of lore, elves, funny names, and all things mythical does indeed have a bottom. There are several peeves I have that will most likely doom a book (and an author?) to my “rejected” pile forever.
Here are two biggies:
1. Don’t be depressing predictable. Yes, the good guys are likely to triumph in the end, but the journey to the finale should be littered with unique twists and turns full of adventure. The best way to get my heart beating is to make sure I don’t already know what is going to happen. Authors are free to do literally
anything in this genre, so there is really no excuse for being flat out boring.
2. Don’t let me believe that everyone is safe. Sure, a handful of characters aren’t likely to bite it because it would kill the story, but seriously – at least
pretend that they are facing true danger. (Hats off to
George R.R. Martin for his authorial brass balls in this regard.)
A common feature of the fantasy landscape, the epic series, presents me with a unique dilemma. I already have a lengthy track record for impatiently dropping out of several long, tedious, frustrating series’ because first off, they are just
too fraking long. Even worse, there are times when a book may be longer than the Great Wall of China and yet the author manages to do nothing with it. (I’m looking at you,
Mr. Jordan.) Books generally, upon completion, should leave me feeling as though something has been accomplished. I have no issues with long books or many long books as long as
something happens. My poor little sound-bite loving mind is not willing to stick with something for the long haul unless I am rewarded along the way for my efforts.
In many ways, fantasy reading is like pearl diving. You sometimes have to slog through a couple of stories that are “just okay” before you find one that speaks to you from the primordial ooze and carries you to a mythical land of rapture. A
diamond in the rough.
Orson Scott Card rambled off a “author reading list” to folks who wanted to experience the buffet table of science fiction and fantasy: Adliss, Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke, Ellison, LeGuin, Norton. Alfred Bester, James Blish, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert Heinlein, Robert Howard, E.E. “Doc” Smith, J.R.R. Tolkien. Larry Niven, Anne McCaffrey, Jack Chalker, C.J. Cherryh, David Drake, Octavia Butler, and Roger Zelazny.
He then aptly added, “Some of the books you won’t care for a bit. Some you’ll admire. Some you’ll love. Some will transform you.”
So here’s a little toast, to my fellow readers: continue seeking out stories worthy of admiration, love, and transformation - no matter what genre you may find them in.
Reading gem I highly recommend:
Kushiel’s Dart (series) by Jacqueline Carey
Last year I “won” with flying colors, finishing at around 71,000 words by the last day. (Though I must admit I kind of jumped the gun and cheated by starting a couple days early since I was so excited.) I have yet to go back to that rough tome I pounded out for editing, but I know it’s there waiting for me. I struggle to put into words just how proud I am of what I did, and how incredible it feels to watch the little word counter click upwards bit by bit. At the end of the month, though the frustration can be incredibly burdensome, you have produced something many have never managed: a fully loaded rough draft.