SBS Vol. 23

they are not “shitting on” characters intentionally. they are exploring the differences between them.* yeah, oliver channels darkness, he has a horrible history, this has changed him, it’s part of who he is. where’s the beef? we know this and love this about oliver. why should we get upset when other characters point it out? why should we assume that storylines that acknowledge it are somehow meant to disparage him?

why are we taking the comments of different characters at some sort of Objective Truth face value instead of recognizing that every character is written to have their own distinct personality and perspective? (Like, Lois saying what she did wasn’t the Flash writers saying “OLIVER IS ANNOYING.” It was meant to be Lois, who has her own way of interpreting things, see Oliver trying to provoke Barry and reacting to it. In fact, that line was meant to show us something about LOIS, about how she sees the world. Not about Oliver. The audience is assumed know something about Oliver already, which provides a useful vehicle for the writers to tell us something about Lois.)

just because barry is shown to be different from oliver, just because iris wouldn’t want barry to be like oliver - it doesn’t mean anyone is saying there’s something wrong with oliver - he’s just not barry. of course iris wouldn’t want barry to become like oliver - she fell in love with a man like barry. 

exactly like how felicity wouldn’t want oliver to become like barry. been there, done that - no sparks. she loves oliver for everything he is, darkness included.

oliver’s relative darkness and barry’s relative lightness are not being pitted against each other to say that one is good and the other is bad - they’re just being compared as a vehicle for exploring their respective characters.

and I LOVE that!! 

i just find tv watching so much more enjoyable when I keep these things in mind, rather than looking for reasons to dislike it. (not that  me or anyone has to like everything...but i dunno i will continue to keep my criticism to elements that are intentional to the story being told, not by focusing on supposed agendas that are external to the story).

I pretty much hate it with the burning fire of a million suns.

Here’s the deal: I… don’t believe in the term “Mary Sue.” Oh, I know the function it’s meant to fill, but, in my opinion, it gets thrown around far too often, and usually synonymously with, “I didn’t like this character, therefore Mary Sue.” It’s used primarily—and not always accurately—as a conversation-ending dismissal, and almost always about female characters, who have a hard enough time without help from derogatory concepts like Mary Sueism. The phrase has become too loaded. 

The best analogy I’ve ever seen (and which I can’t seem to find right now) is the Batman analogy. On paper, without the name “Batman” attached, Batman looks like the ultimate Mary Sue: rich, powerful, handsome, all the gadgets, all the toys, saves the day, hero. Basically, if you didn’t know it was Batman, you’d probably go “uh oh MARY SUE.” And so what if Batman is a Mary Sue? So what if your character is what others might call a Mary Sue? Do your best. Have fun. Don’t let the bastards grind you down. I think a lot of people who turn to fic (or writing) often feel somewhat powerless in their own lives; you want to make someone who can do all the things you’re afraid of doing? You want to work through stuff through someone who can handle it? You do you. A lot of writers learn about writing by creating self-insert or “Mary Sue” type characters. My dudes, when I was 13/14 I wrote a novel where the main characters ended up on Earth, in the small town I lived in at the time, and I literally wrote about them meeting me--not even changing my name. I got to help save the day. I was processing a lot of stuff at the time; writing that story helped me. If the internet had been prevalent then, maybe that 100% literal self-insert might’ve found her way onto it. Again with the “you’re doing it wrong, let me tell you why” policing: someone else’s self-insert/Mary Sue isn’t hurting anyone but your dismissal will probably hurt the person who wrote it. Live and let live. Especially in hobbyist fandom spaces. (To be clear, I’m not talking about propagating harmful stereotypes, *isms, or *phobics here; I’m talking about this character is just TOO nice/sweet/strong/rich/pretty/liked/loved/talented/alloftheabove type stuff.)

@dust2dust34 (okay I don’t even know if you follow me but I wanted to engage with your tags on this post because) THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I’M SAYING (quoting from my 7x03 meta here):

I love how they’re reminding us what Oliver is capable of. I think one thing that people miss when they lament “the good old days of Arrow,” and when they (I’m talking about the anti-Olicity/anti-Felicity crowd now) complain that Oliver went “soft” in seasons 3 and 4, is the lack of this hard, imma-fuck-you-up Oliver. And I admit it, I miss it too. The difference is, I don’t “blame” Felicity/Olicity for it - Oliver getting in touch with his humanity, learning to be happy - we want that for him, and I’m glad he got there. But I think where the show made a misstep previously is showing us that side of Oliver without maintaining an awareness of THE ENTIRE SPECTRUM of dark and light that he contains. Yes, he found happiness, but that doesn’t mean that he just forgets his trauma. As the show moved into later seasons (and I’m talking about 4, 5, and 6 here), it stopped showing us the NUANCE of Oliver’s character. 

CREATING NUANCE BY WEAVING AWARENESS OF CHARACTER HISTORY INTO THE STORY IS JUST GOOD WRITING, and we deserve it, especially because Arrow has so much history between its characters, and because it literally is a show about how past events shape you!!!

Ahh, this is a super interesting question!

The short answer is: for me, it depends on a whole bunch of random stuff. 

The longer answer is: sometimes I’m trying to be symbolic or make sure the name-meaning fits the character. Sometimes names are just names I like so much I want to give them to characters. Sometimes I’m stumped for 1000 years because a character won’t tell me their name, but I know everything I’m coming up with is not the right name. Don’t underestimate the value of sounds right. For me, that’s usually a pretty strong indication that the character’s got an opinion and they’d rather you just stop fighting them and do what they want.

For example, Grace Shepard. There are a ton of lovely, character-appropriate connotations to Grace’s name. One might think I hemmed and hawed and eventually decided on her name because of the symbolism. The truth, though, is that I just really love the name Grace. If I’d ever had kids, Grace was my #1 top choice for a girl. The main character in the first novel I considered publishable was named Grace. When the Shepard creation screen popped up and asked for a name, I chose Grace. To honor that character. Because I loved it. That it ended up being charmingly symbolic and wonderfully apt was a bonus.

When choosing names, I’m usually aware of background. Turian names, for example, have a certain sound and a certain pattern. Funny as it might be to have a turian named Bob Jones, it would definitely break the usual pattern. Same goes for, say, ethnic background or family history. I try to choose names that either match the background (because the parents or grandparents insisted, for example, or because there’s a lot of pride) or diverge from the background (if, say, they didn’t want their kid to carry the weight of family names, etc.). I fully admit that I almost always check a name’s meaning before it settles, though. I don’t like it if the name means black soul or something and I’m giving it to a protagonist. (Though you could, for the character to prove the name’s destiny wrong.)

Regardless of why I choose the name, the character’s backstory inevitably involves why they were given the name by the people who named them within the story. I think that’s important. While the short answer to “Why this name?” might be “Tara likes it,” the longer answer has to include why the namer chose the name. That gives a character depth and history beyond just “…the story has started and this character now exists.” Naming is often an important part of what forms identity (the names we’re given, the names we choose, the names we reject).

So, looking at Grace again. You and I know she got her name because I liked it. Her parents, however, gave her the name not because they were really into virtues or wanted a little girl who was light on her feet but because she was named, at her mother’s insistence, for her father (Gray Shepard). It’s a bit unexpected and adds something not only to Grace’s characterization but the characterization of her parents. This solidifies the idea that Grace, as a character, existed in her universe long before I picked up my pen or before the character creation screen asked me for a name.

Now, don’t get me wrong: I did not know about Grace’s parents when I created her or when I started writing about her. That information was revealed as I continued to delve into her story. I’ve never been the kind of writer who knows everything about a character before she picks up her pen (or opens her laptop). For me, storytelling is a journey. I am the first person the story gets told to; I like when things come as a surprise (or even better, when things end up having excellent story-based reasons I had no idea about when I first started creating).

Sidebar: Grace is also interesting because she has this name I have thought a lot about but she never uses it. Again, the meta reason for that is because the game mechanics never use Shepard’s name and I, stubbornly, wanted to continue that conceit in my own work. It meant, however, that I had to come up with really good reasons a person would stop using their given name. I like what I ended up coming up with; it feels weirder to use Grace’s name than not because she, in my head and imagination, is so extremely disconnected from it.

Oh, gosh, thank you so much <3

As for advice, I can throw out some suggestions. Feel free to use all or none of them, as you like. (And I see you are a Shakarian person, so I’ll mainly go with that for examples.)

Start small. And by small I mean: short. Long stories are wonderful and rewarding but they are also hard. It takes more effort and energy to keep the story straight, to plot, to plan, to make sure everyone’s consistently in character. It’s like running a marathon. If you try to take on a marathon without training, you’re probably going to collapse partway through and never get up. So, do some training runs. Write some ficlets. Write some character vignettes. Think about scenes or moments that stood out for you, where you wanted to know more.

For example: My story A Good Day was only the second Mass Effect story I wrote. I wrote it because I’d played the games as Shepard, but I wanted to know what it was like for Garrus to find out about Shepard’s death and the Normandy’s destruction. It was the first time I wrote his POV, and I wrote it because I wanted to understand him better and because there was a lot of stuff the game couldn’t go into, because it stays pretty narrowly focused on Shepard’s POV.

Missing scenes, dialogues, writing about things from the games from the points of view of characters other than Shepard---these are training runs. They help you get understand the characters. Try prompts, if you think that’ll help. It’s amazing what a prompt can shake loose in your brain, sometimes. And once you’ve warmed up? If you feel like tackling a marathon? Go for it. (It will never be easy, though. Longfic is hard. Wonderful, but so, so hard.)

Don’t be afraid of your Shepard’s uniqueness. My Shepard is not the same as your Shepard is not the same as any of the other Shepards out there. There’ll be some similarities, sure, but fanfic really lets you play around and make them unique. Don’t be afraid of that. I, for one, love getting to hear about how a different Shepard deals with the aftermath of Elysium, or how a different Shepard ends up the sole survivor after Akuze. Every Shepard has a different relationship with Garrus. They see him differently. They have different conversations outside of what the game gives us. They start relationships with him for different reasons, and want different things from those relationships. There are so many stories in there. 

Write about things that mean something to you. My very first Mass Effect story was written because of a bug that made Matriarch Aethyta think Liara and Shepard were a couple. I thought I’d somehow broken the Garrus romance! I freaked out!! And then I looked it up, found it was a bug, and thought --- there’s a funny story in there. So, I wrote it. Think about the scenes that made you laugh or cry or get angry. Those emotions’ll help you figure out what’s important enough that you’ll want to spend your free time writing about it ;)

Write what you love to read. If you love hurt/comfort -- write yourself some hurt/comfort. If you love pretty dresses -- by God, find a way to put Shepard in a pretty dress. If you love banter? Write banter! Kid-fic? Go wild! Definitely-no-kids-fic? Knock yourself out. Smut? Go right ahead. Fanfiction is yours. You don’t have to sell it to an agent or publisher. You can write whatever damn thing you want. Self-indulgent? Indulge!! It’s your hobby. Your story. Enjoy the hell out of it.

A couple of little practical things about getting into the heads of characters: watch YouTube videos (or play scenes in the game yourself); read the wiki; read your work aloud and try to gauge how the voices sound -- can you hear Garrus speaking? Good! You’re on the right track. People (and characters) have different mannerisms, vocal tics, patterns of speech, vocabularies. Think about those when you’re writing them. Liara doesn’t use contractions in the first game. If you write her saying can’t or I’m or it’s all over the place, she won’t sound like herself. Little things like that go a long way.

It’s hard and scary, but try to find a beta who’ll read your stuff. If you’re very tender and worried about negative comments, that’s okay. Ask your beta to be gentle. Believe it or not, truly constructive criticism is actually pretty awesome. It gets easier to accept it with time.

Remember this vitally important piece of information: no matter how many similarities, no matter how much the characters or situations overlap, the stories that are in you to tell can only be told by you. Try not to worry about what other people have written or are writing. Only you can tell the stories in you to tell in the way that you can tell them.

I haven’t read those books in particular (I read a lot of YA fantasy and sci-fi, but not very much modern contemporary) and I’m not entirely certain I know what you mean by complexity in this context, but I do have some thoughts.

People are complex, no matter their age, and characters are people (hopefully intricate and well-formed) who come out of the author’s imagination. There’s no magic age where someone becomes complex. Even babies, for all they don’t actually do a lot other than eat and sleep and cry and crap, are not just blobs. I know four little dudes all about the same age and they are all wildly different--their personalities, how they interact with both children and adults, what they like and dislike. We start growing and changing and becoming unique fairly early on, is what I’m saying. Stories and characterization choices should reflect that.

Having less life experience doesn’t necessarily make one less complex. You don’t want to sell someone short on that score. If there’s emotional truth in their complexity, that’s good. Younger characters are growing into the adults they’ll become; of course they’re complex. They might not be as wise. They might be more focused on themselves than on the world at large. They might be wrapped up in concerns that seem, to an adult, more childish. They might be any number of things, but they’re not in some kind of holding pattern. For human beings, life and change and complexity and experience happen in incremental steps. We don’t spend X-number of years in a cocoon, waiting to become fully-formed butterflies.

The problem might arise if you have characters who are so clever, advanced, knowledgable, etc. that they no longer feel like real people. They feel like an amalgamation of perfections. That, in my opinion, is sloppy writing and sloppy character building. And that can happen to characters of any age.

Something else to consider is perspective and point of view. If a book is told from the point of view of a young character, they are smack in the middle of their experience; that experience is probably the most important thing to them. They are the lens through which the story is focused. I don’t know about you, but I remember being 13, 17, 22. I didn’t feel unformed. I might have known I wasn’t finished becoming who I was going to be (let’s be real, I still don’t feel that way), but I felt complex. I had concerns that felt bigger than me, I had hopes and dreams I wanted to see realized, I had hobbies and relationships and fears, I had things that weighed me down.

If the same story were told from the POV of an adult character looking at the younger character, things might come across differently. POV and perspective are really important.