On International Women's Day

It was International Women's Day on Wednesday (I'm writing this on Saturday, 11th March) and this video came up on my Facebook newsfeed. The point it makes is simple: where are all the rounded female characters in children's fiction?

I'm not writing for children, but still this got me thinking about two things.

The first is that The Blade Bearer has next to no women in it. They are referred to but they are off the page. In a sense, the women in Will's word are telling their stories somewhere else, stories that are talked about but are not part of the tale Will is telling. Originally, the absence of women from the story was a conscious choice. When I wrote The Blade Bearer, fantasy fiction seemed to be mainly about men and boys, with very few principal woman protagonists. They were all one-dimensional matriarchs, prostitutes, witches, elf queens, or little girls. Same with role-playing games: it was a boy's world, played by males and marketed at them. I even came up with an in-world reason for why women were absent from Aeolish society: the idealisation of womanhood was central to Chironism, hence they were separated from the world and we don't see them.

This was all very well but now writing women out of the story to make a point about why women are written out of stories seems pointless. So I want to change it.

Here is the second thing. The beauty of publishing online, whether for e-readers or for publish-on-demand is that you can change stuff. Spot a huge typo you missed first time round? Fix it, upload the new copy, and bingo! - all is well. No reader is going to mind too much. But the reader might mind if you change a huge chunk of the novel. What if I decided my story would be more balanced - and more interesting - if I made one of the principal characters a woman? It's not as if hundreds of people have downloaded the book to date, so what's the harm if I do a rewrite to bring a better gender balance? But that seemed like cheating, like reacting, perhaps even patronising. Changing the sex of one of the main characters is, I decided, not the way to go. It seems tokenistic - 'Quick! Put more women in!'

There are women in books 2 and 3, not to tick some box, but because it makes the story so much better. As I was building the story for these books, some new characters fitted better as female. It helped dramatic tension, it helped with understanding their motivations, it helped with determining their goals and, so, how they move the story on. I'm glad to say this happened naturally, not because I wanted to appeal to half my readership. (I ran an advert on Amazon recently and half of the clicks were from women and half from men. That said, half were from the UK and half were from Germany. Does this mean I have to have more Germanic characters?)

The stuff I put in The Blade Bearer about why women were marginalised in Aeolish society is actually helping to drive the story in The Spell Weaver and The Shadow Dweller.

Con the Numpty, Episode 1

Another quick post, but this time to apologise.

More precisely, to apologise to the hundred or so people who've downloaded The Blade Bearer and had to tolerate the comments links still in-situ in the first few chapters. And the typos that crept in while I wasn't looking. These errors should now be removed. I hope it didn't spoil your enjoyment of the book.

I'm working on a couple of short stories right now, telling more of Will's tales. Once these are done I'll stick them online. I promise there will be minimal typos or other stupid-author-related distractions. 

Who Wants Another Fight?

A quick post.

I'm a big fan of The Nerdwriter. His pieces are thoughtful and not afraid to talk about complex stuff. I was looking through some of his older posts the other day and saw this one: Movie Violence Done Right.

It's about the use of violence in the movies of Shane Black. I'm not Black's biggest fan - sometimes I wish his characters would just shut up - but I really enjoyed The Nerdwriter's point about the way Black uses violence to help move the story along. Hopefully it resonates with my blog from back in February.

J.R.R. versus H.P.

You can’t write fantasy and not think about Tolkien. Or at least I can’t. Tolkien is like The Beatles of fantasy fiction: love him or hate him he’s always there, if not influencing you then influencing those who influenced you. You may react against him, or try to recreate the vibes you felt when reading The Lord of the Rings, but it’s difficult to avoid his influence.

One of the things I find fascinating about Tolkein's world building is that it is so ordered. Despite the hugely powerful figures that populate the story of Middle Earth, from its formation through to the events of Lord of the Rings, the history of Middle Earth is just that: history. There appears to be very little in all the songs and stories of the many ages of Middle Earth that is not true. Everything recounted in these tales actually happened; the heroes and villains, the battles and the sorrows, are all historical, not mythical. (The Appendices make this absolutely clear.)

It's fascinating that stories that appear so mythic are actually empirical fact. This empiricism makes for a very ordered world. Middle Earth is rooted in certainties. Nearly everyone has a long and well-documented path. The great powers of Middle Earth – Sauron, the wizards, the elves, etc. – all have clear motivation for their actions, much of it rooted in their racial or personal history. Their actions may be for good or evil, they may want to destroy rather than build, but what drives them is hardly ever in doubt. Everything can be explained.

Compare this with that other great fantasist, HP Lovecraft. His universe is defined by doubt, by randomness, by chaos. In Lovecraft's mythos there are great powers in the cosmos but we can never understand what they are, how they work, or what motivates them. If they are even aware of us, then these Great Beings don’t care about our fate. Their thoughts are unfathomable to humans, and anyone who does manage to gain even a slight glimpse is driven insane or destroyed. In many ways, Lovecraft's universe is the antithesis of Tolkein's: order versus chaos, meaning versus madness, a comprehensible history versus unfathomable scope.

I like to think that the world of Will's adventures is a bit of both: there is a past that everyone is connected to in some way, that frames and pushes each character's actions. Yet there is also another world, another dimension beyond the mundane that cannot be truly known except by those who immerse themselves in it. If these travellers are not careful, looking into the abyss may drive them to the edge of reason.

Sometime in Book 3 - yes, I have plotted it out - we encounter a character who is a synthesis of Tolkein and Lovecraft. I hope I can make it work.

So where are you from?

Fairly early in The Blade Bearer - what do you mean you haven't bought it yet? - Markham of Mallarn, lofty knight of the kingdom of Aeoland, and our hero, Will, meet for the first time.

‘What is your name, stranger?’ he asked.
‘Will,’ I answered.
‘And?’ he said, expecting more. ‘Will..? Of…?’
‘Nowhere in particular,’ I replied.
Captain Koseck whacked me on the side of the face: ‘You will address His Grace as befits his station and yours, you little shit!’

Now, believe it or not, there is actually some world building in here. Folk in medieval times are always Gordon of Somewhere or Mary of Anotherplace. Robin of Sherwood or Richard of York, for instance. A bit of light googling has not revealed the technical name for this thing, so let's call it placenaming.

Placenaming in Aeoland is actually really important. As a people, the Aeolish are very much tied to their place of origin. It gives them their identity, it makes them feel part of something bigger than themselves, even if that something is a hamlet. The scale of your placename indicates a lot about your position in the social scale. For instance, if you're named after a small village that indicates that you are fairly lowly, while if you're named for an entire region, that makes you more important.

So when someone hears that Markham is fully titled 'Markham of Mallarn', they know immediately that he is a big cheese, Mallarn being a duchy in the south of Aeoland. Same with other noblemen in the book such as Carnyth of Leth Fordun. At the other end of the scale we have someone like Neghel of Armwick, clearly a serious commoner as Armwick is a small village.

But what really freaks them out is when you don't have a placename. The placename indicates where you belong and so, without one, you are effectively an exile from society - you belong nowhere. To admit this directly to Markham of Mallarn - evidently someone of great importance - is a fairly substantial insult. When Will replies that he is from 'Nowhere in particular,' Markham's lackey assumes Will is withholding his placename, rather than genuinely not possessing one. A profound insult.

UPDATE: Turns out the 'of' thing is a form of Byname called a 'Locative'. https://www.s-gabriel.org/names/arval/bynames/.