Seanan McGuire (seanan_mcguire) wrote,
Seanan McGuire
seanan_mcguire

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My narrative kink is okay, yours is kinda...well, okay.

Everyone has what my friends and I refer to as "narrative kinks": those storylines, themes, tropes, and motifs that really get you cooking as a reader, a writer, or both. (Note: despite my use of the word "kink" here, there is nothing inherently sexual about a narrative kink. Ask any small child what kind of story he or she likes, and you'll get a much clearer, more honest picture of what they want out of a story than you will from most adults. We start forming these tastes from the second we understand what stories are, and while they may shift, refine, and totally change over the course of our lifetimes, we always have them.) Mine are pretty straightforward; years of writing fanfic helped me hone in on them like a mosquito going for the one inch of skin that doesn't have bug spray on it, and now I know exactly what they are, where they are, and how to spot them when they come into play.

A few of my preferences:

* Mermaids! I love mermaids. I've been thrilled by everyone enjoying the glimpse of the Undersea in One Salt Sea, because wow did those chapters feel self-indulgent. I could have written a whole book just explaining how the social structure of the Undersea functions. Someday, if I get a good enough excuse, maybe I will.

* Evil twins. Yeah, I know, it's a Patty Duke cliche, and I don't care. I love me some evil twin action. Blame my early exposure to All My Children and move on.

* Mathematicians and scientists in leading rolls. I think math is sexy. Science is basically my favorite thing that isn't the Great Pumpkin or my cats. It's pretty rare to find a book of mine that doesn't have at least one of these character types represented. (Ironically, Feed didn't need a scientist because I was the scientist, with all that delicious virology kicking around.)

* Alternate universes and timelines. Yes, I love breaking continuity and seeing what happens when it's put together in a new shape. Enough so that sometimes people have to hold me down and take the hammer away, since otherwise, I'll just keep smashing things. My one regret about prose as a primary medium is that it's hard to pull off alt-universes in most prose settings.

* The malleability of death. Look, I grew up on X-Men comics, soap operas, and horror movies. I enjoy playing with the elasticity of mortality, and finding ways around things that seem permanent. You can't cheat, but watching your dead girlfriend's robot replacement come to terms with the fact that she's really a brain in a jar delights me.

...there are more, but you get the idea.

One of the interesting things about knowing and being at peace with my narrative kinks is that I get much, much pickier about how they're used. You can't just raise the dead and expect me to be happy; I want it to make sense within the rules of your universe, hang together internally, and be fair to the character you've just brought back. If you're going to have a lead scientist, they'd better be a scientist, and not a magical knows-everything widget that can somehow apply every field of science KNOWN TO MAN to whatever situation they happen to be in (Winnifred Burkle, I'm sorry, but I'm looking at you).

If you're going to do an alternate universe, I expect you to think it all the way through. Yes, all the way through. One of my favorite shows rebooted their continuity two seasons ago, and while they made the usual assortment of flashy surface changes, they didn't consider all the ramifications of those changes. The fact that at least two of the characters involved didn't tear down heaven and earth looking for a way back to the original timeline was incredibly disappointing to me. (Shawn says this is because I over think these things. I point you, again, to my list of narrative kinks. These are the things I am programmed to over think!) Basically, I want stories that will give me what I want, but really commit to giving it, not tap-dance around going all the way.

Also, often, narrative kinks are a lot like salt or bacon: a little can go a long way. I adored Marvel's House of M alt-universe, but I would have been annoyed if it had replaced the main Marvel Universe completely (even though it was an awesome setting, and I want them to do more with it). I'm enjoying the current season of Fringe, with its re-imagined continuity...and at the same time, I find myself restlessly demanding the original timeline back, because I invested a lot of time and emotional attachment in those characters, those relationships, and every delighted "oh, it went like that over here" is followed by a "...wait, does that mean that this other thing didn't happen?" So sometimes, getting what you think you want out of a story isn't ideal.

And this is why I have proofreaders and editors who don't share my narrative kinks. They may encourage me to put more foxes, or talking animals in silly hats, into the narrative, but they'll help me avoid the story turning into a stew of "things Seanan wants to play with."

What are your narrative kinks? How do you feel about their use, and how do you react when they get overused? What narrative toys would you rather never came off the shelf again? Enlighten me!
Tags: contemplation, literary critique, writing
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  • 248 comments
Heroes in Non-Leadership Roles. And I don't just mean "because he's a LONE WOLF who doesn't PLAY BY THE RULES!", but I have a serious narrative kink for stories about people in subordinate roles who are awesome within them. I get extra excited if the protagonist follows a robust system of rules, and finds ways to work within those rules. Or, if they're externally imposed, finds a way to change them if they're Wrong, rather than just breaking them dramatically.

Androgynous and asexual characters. It's not that I don't like some interesting gender roles or sex-based plot points, but it's sort of like white characters; they're everywhere, and I want a change of pace more often than I get one. I love characters who can eschew gender stereotypes without just flipping to the other side ("She's a woman...who acts like a man! Daring!"), and who can fight against or ignore or just not have sexual desires without being written as an emotionless robot. Double plus points for settings that can take one or both of those as the default assumption. ("But of course everyone can change sex at whim, and turn off their sexual desires if they're inconvenient. Wouldn't it be terrible if it were otherwise?")

I like clever heroes, and sympathetic villains who aren't just Draco In Leather Pants, and solutions that don't come down to violence in the dramatic climax, and a strong sense that a given story happens to be about one set of characters but everyone else in the setting is equally important and the hero of their own stories--but those two up above? The big narrative kinks that just don't get hit often enough.
Oh, very nice.
Love that first one especially. Very well-expressed.
I find that Miles Vorkosigan, in some of the later books, hit that kink very nicely. He does horrible things to the rules... but by god, he supports them and works within them, or at least has a secondary backup rule to come into play if he can't work within the usual set.
On your second point, does it count if the character has a sex drive and/or gender role, but in the context it just doesn't matter? For example, I'm a mom, but when I'm working on Photoshop the fact of my momhood is totally irrelevant. Aside from any interruptions.

I can totally see stories where the protagonist is married or whatever, and that just doesn't come up because it's not the point of the story.
Hm. I suppose it would depend on context? "This doesn't happen to come up as relevant in the course of this story" is a different sort of feel from "This character is quite thoroughly disinterested in this, or rejects being driven by it", but in some stories--especially those that don't delve into the insides of someone's head--it can be difficult to tell the difference. For example, the long-running debate about Sherlock Holmes and his sexuality.

I think in general "it doesn't come up" means that certain tropes that annoy me are avoided, but it'd have to feel a little more deliberate than that to feel like a narrative kink had to been hit, as such.