Clarkesworld Anthology 2012 (53 page)

Beyond the central characters. Royce and Hadrian, some of the most striking elements of The Riyria Revelations are the series’ tone and the style.

I read fiction—and fantasy in particular—for enjoyment rather than for allegories. I feel that the best fantasies are the ones that don’t take themselves too seriously, hence the humor that is found in my work. You can, and should, touch on emotional aspects of the human experience and strive to inspire or move people. That’s essential to any good writing. But for me, the number-one priority is to entertain, and I write books that I would like to read.

The style of prose I chose for The Riyria Revelations can best be described as straightforward and unadorned. My intention was to make the writing itself invisible to the reader and keep them focused on the characters and plot. In the past, I’ve written literary fiction where I placed a higher emphasis on the construction of each sentence. Reading that type of novel is like drinking a fine wine. It’s meant to be savored and read slowly, enjoying each sip. My hope for that particular piece is that the reader will often pause after a particularly well-crafted sentence. But I feel that style is best suited to stories with simple plots.

The Riyria Revelations, on the other hand, is a very plot-heavy book. A lot happens (it is epic fantasy after all), and my goal was to keep the reader turning pages. I didn’t want the prose to get in the way, so I went with a more simplistic style. I wanted the words to fall away and for the events to unfold much like a movie playing in the reader’s own imagination. To complete the food analogy, The Riyria Revelations should be like eating popcorn, where there is an unconscious hand-to-mouth motion, until you finally come out of a trance and realize you’ve just consumed much more than you had intended. I routinely apply this sliding scale between plot and prose complexity on a case-by-case basis. But since few have read my literary fiction, they may not be aware that I actually can utilize both sides of that coin.

As for tone, I wanted it to be light and fun. Sometimes I feel that in pursuit of drama, some writers forget that an important aspect of life is humor. We make jokes when we are happy, when we are nervous, and as a means for coping with fear or pain. Some medieval fantasies seem to take themselves too seriously, as if no one in the Middle Ages ever laughed. I’ve read books where the world is dark and morbid and filled with morose characters that are unpleasant to be around. I know that the intent is to be more serious or realistic, but for me, this has the opposite effect. I can’t help but think, “Okay, no world, no reality, can be this awful for
everyone
.” I personally find books with this perspective unpleasant to read. That’s not to say that they don’t have merit or a deserved fan base. It’s just that my preferred tastes run differently.

I was also striving to make the series an easy read, the kind of books that would be appreciated even to people who don’t generally read fantasy. For example, my dialogue has an intentionally
modern
style. I didn’t want an overly formal or archaic sound, which would stand as an obstacle to readers. Making a movie based in France for an American audience might be more authentic if subtitles were used, but I would find it annoying and distracting. Elan is an invented reality, and I can make people speak anyway I wish. If my goal was to create a sense of otherworldliness, then using archaic or invented language would make sense. But like I said, I wanted to remove all obstacles and let the story flow effortlessly. I should clarify, before some people take me to task, that I do have some invented words. Some of the spellings and pronunciations may seem overly difficult. But I’ve done that for specific reason in regard to plot. They are not arbitrary decisions.

One last thing I’d like to speak about with regard to style: The books are intended for adult audiences, but I do avoid scenes with sex or overtly graphic violence. This wasn’t done because of some kind of moral decision. I just didn’t see that adding such things would add to the story. I do like the unintended effect that it makes the books readable by people of varying ages, and I’ve enjoyed letters from parents that mention they and their children are able to have a shared experience.

How do you go about writing fight scenes?

I hate fight scenes. Not because I am particularly nonviolent, but because they are, oddly enough, boring. Making a fight scene interesting, rather than a series of physical movements, is tough. Every element in a story needs to be a story onto itself. A chapter is a short story; a scene has to have its own story arc. A fight scene needs to be its own mini-drama with a beginning, middle, and an end. This is what makes a fight interesting and memorable.

The role it plays in the narrative can be varied. It can reinforce that the story isn’t just fun and games—people die in these books. That fact helps ground the reader and reminds them that there are genuine dangers even though the story is a romp. A good fight scene can also as the payoff for many tension-builds. There are just some times when you really want to see some jerk get what’s coming to him.

Why do so many readers leap into the stories at word one and stay there till the end? Why do they keep eating the popcorn?

I think this is a question I should be asking the reader, but since I wrote the story to be tailor-made to my particular tastes, I guess I’ll talk a bit about what I was shooting for. When I looked at books that I have enjoyed most over the years, a common thread emerged. They were all good stories about characters I wished I were friends with in real life, which occurred in settings I wanted to actually visit or even live in. A lot of people really like Royce and Hadrian and the banter between them. They recognize a deep sense of loyalty between the two, and I think they would like to be a part of that.

One of the things I wanted to do is provide an escape into a place that is better than reality. One of my favorite TV shows is
The West Wing
. It may not be an
accurate
portrayal of what working at the White House would be like, but it showed a world that I
wanted
it to be. Especially in the early seasons where everyone was depicted as intelligent, hard-working, and striving to make a difference. I would have liked to have been a part of that and surrounded by those characters.

That’s not to say that I write worlds that are all sunshine and rainbows. Sure my books have serious moments, dark moments—you have to have these to create tension. There has to be a low point to provide contrast for joy. My characters have not led ideal lives, and I place many challenges before them. But through it all there is a current of optimism that runs through the stories. I think people enjoy being a part of their triumphs. Perhaps people stay glued because they really care about the characters and want to see what will happen to them.

One other element that I’ve heard is a big draw for people: Each of the six books has its own self-contained conflict and resolution, but it exists within a framework where there is an overarching story with mysteries that unfold a bit at a time. This could only be accomplished because I wrote the whole series before publishing the first book. I often would go back to an early novel and add a scene or two to further enhance a plot point that was occurring late in the story arc. Many books provide all you ever need to know about the world and the characters in the first book, and the rest are just “more of the same.” Because I had the freedom to work with a larger canvas, I could reveal the history of the world and the backstories of the characters a little at a time. There are things that I only initially hint at that eventually come to light. So I think a lot of people are seeking to find that next puzzle piece and see how it fits in place.

What makes for a compelling protagonist in general and a compelling fantasy protagonist in particular?

I don’t really see that genre has much to do with compelling characters. There are certain things that are universal, regardless of genre. Myron is often cited as a favorite in the series even though he has very little time on stage. For those that are early in the series: Yes, he comes back, but not until the last two books. I need to use my big guns sparingly. When I saw the movie
WALL-E,
I thought, “They stole Myron!”: unassuming, kind-hearted, and optimistic beyond reason. I think the single most important aspect of a likeable character is one that doesn’t whine. No matter how awful things get, they just don’t complain.

I also think people respect characters that take responsibility for their own actions—or for that matter even act at all. Likeable characters don’t sit on the sidelines and expect someone else to do what needs doing. They are men and women of action. If you want to make them even more sympathetic, place them in situations where
they
know they don’t stand a chance. Their deeds are further amplified if accompanied by people who remind them that they aren’t expected, or even supposed, to do anything that is not in their own self-interest.

What about an antagonist?

Antagonists are actually easy—much easier. You just have to put someone at odds against the protagonist, but give him a good reason for doing so. I find it works well to portray a protagonist as a determined individual with a very reasonable goal (sometimes even a noble goal). The problem arises because these people are short-sighted and pursue their desires regardless of the costs. They are the ones that console themselves with the notion that the ends justify the means.

It’s easier for people to be accepting of antagonists, as there are so many in the real world to use as examples. Heroes are rare, which is why people like reading about them. Most antagonists, while not evil, are often self-centered, misguided, and unsympathetic to others. No one ever thinks of himself as evil or bad. We all think we are the good guys. So an antagonist, in order to be believable, has to feel this way too, and be recognized by those around him as trying to do good. Being evil for evil sake is as unrealistic as a lack of humor.

Did you do much editing of the original tales in preparation for the Orbit editions? If so, did the chance to go back over them reveal anything to you about yourself and your writing? About the characters or the world?

Nothing frightened me more than getting back the changes from the editor. I had created a very intricately woven plot, and pulling on one thread could unravel an entire tapestry. I also constructed my series in an unusual way—that is, different than how most stories are created. I’m speaking about the timing of how I expose details about my characters and the world. To get published is so difficult. The first book has to be strong—really, really strong—and there is often a lot of front-loading, giving enough meat for the readers to really sink their teeth into. When I wrote the books, I had no intention on publishing. I doled out details slowly, over the course of the entire series. My audience had been myself, my family, and friends. I knew they would read the whole thing. But for someone else, they may find the first books lacking in detail and conclude it is because of poor writing skill—when in fact it was by design.

In any case, I thought that to make the books “marketable,” they might need major rework. What if Orbit had declared that “buddy tales” weren’t popular and wanted to make either Royce or Hadrian a woman? What if they wanted to add a love interest? What if they needed more revealed earlier in the stories? Any changes like those would have been a huge problem, and I’m not sure that I would have been willing to make such concessions.

Luckily my concerns turned out to be unfounded. Orbit loved the books just as they were, and they realized that the plot was already very sound. They didn’t find any holes that needed plugging (thanks to my wife Robin who had already taken care of them when they were originally published). Their only problem was that the book didn’t start with Royce and Hadrian; I had started the book with two minor characters, Archibald and Victor. Others who had read the series had had the same reaction, so it made perfect sense to change. For those that have read the original version, and who want to read the new opening, they can read the free sample of
Theft of Swords
from my blog (www.riyria.com). It’s there in its entirety. That really was the only major change.

The biggest revelation that the process unveiled was that I wasn’t completely delusional about the strength of the story as originally written. A lot of my insecurities had been alleviated by the high sales and positive reviews when they were originally self-published, but it felt good to know that professionals in the industry appreciated what I had written. On the technical side, I did learn a great deal by reviewing the numerous changes from the line editors, although I’ll probably always struggle with the placement of commas. Orbit has a great team of very detail-oriented copyeditors and proofreaders. I was constantly amazed at the things they found and embarrassed by some of the mistakes that were still present—even after more than a half dozen editors had worked on the books over the years.

From the time you penned your first Royce and Hadrian tale to the most recent, has much changed for you? Professionally and in terms of craft?

Having come from the “indie” world, a lot has changed for me in regards to income. When I started, and for several years after, I made little more than enough to pay for an occasional dinner out, assuming we didn’t buy any wine. It wasn’t until my fourth book was released that my income started paying some of the bills. And on the fifth book, I started making enough to match my wife’s income. Even before the series was bought by Orbit, I had graduated to earning enough money to be self-supporting, which I consider quite an accomplishment, since there are many traditionally published authors (some with multiple book releases) who haven’t reached that milestone yet and have to keep their day jobs to pay for bills or insurance.

My goals have definitely changed. When I started The Riyria Revelations, I had no intention on publishing. But now, one of my main goals is to continue to be able to write full-time. Whether I’ll be successful at that, it’s hard to say. Income can be so sporadic. Most writers don’t earn out their advances, and you get those payments only at major milestones. It can be months or even years between checks. I had socked away a lot of the money that I made from self-publishing, and I’m being cautious about spending the money made from the Orbit and foreign translations. I feel like I’m in a race to see what line is crossed first: depletion of my nest egg or the next book’s release. Still, I can’t complain. While I would hate for the financial freedom to be just a brief respite, it’s more than many authors will ever see, and I consider myself fortunate to have done it for any length of time.