And no, I don’t mean the Pratchett book of the same name.
Those of you who know me know I’ve been having “interesting times” lately – and I’m not the only one here. It seems the last few years have been absolutely rife with job instability, medical issues, family problems, entire industries going collectively bug-nuts insane, and various other kinds of interesting that most of us didn’t volunteer for and would rather not be dealing with, thank you very much.
That doesn’t stop us writing about them, and making the interesting even more interesting when we do. Of course, that leads to the question of how our characters handle the world-changing events they live through. I suspect it’s a good thing I’m not one of my characters, because I’d crumble under the things the poor sods have to deal with. For instance, the job I thought I had turned out not to be possible. Little things like narcolepsy not mixing well with a 2 hour and then some commute. It happens, it’s life, but I grieved nonetheless. I’m not altogether sure whether I was grieving the opportunity that I couldn’t take or the dream of the “perfect job” that I saw falling away from me because my body wasn’t up to it. Regardless, it doesn’t make the grief any less real.
I’ve never seen a character’s grief over something as “little” as a job. I wonder if that’s because in SF and fantasy there’s a tendency to work with bigger things than that – but chances are in an SFnal future there will still be jobs and people being people, they’ll still define themselves by their job. I’m sure it’s possible to write interesting and fun SF when the main character is a junior clerk in the Galactic Service. I’ve just never done it or seen it. (Dave, Sarah, this is not a challenge. You don’t need to prove that it can be done. Really.)
Characters don’t have issues with pets deciding that the litter box isn’t the appropriate place for deposits, either. Heck, characters usually don’t have pets. It’s easier of course – no pesky ties, no need to arrange for the neighbors in the intergalactic condo block to feed Mopsy, and no need to come back when Adventure whisks them off and turns their lives inside out. I’m guilty of it as well. Characters with few or no ties to anyone or anything can be sent off to do whatever their megalomaniacal deity (um… author) needs them to do, and they won’t irritate the author or the readers worrying about what’s happening to Flopsy back at the condo, or whether the neighbor is keeping Cottontail properly separated so that when the characters come home they’re not going to have to find homes for multiple litters of kittens. Or rabbits. Or whatever the pet is.
Occasionally there’ll be a pet or animal companion as part of the story. Even more occasionally it’s not magical/psychic and far more intelligent than an ordinary animal. Horses in fantasy don’t count here – those are too often written more as slow-moving organic motorbikes (how often does a typical fantasy character worry about whether the horse is getting properly fed/rubbed down/watered/rested?). If there’s a dog or dog-like critter, it’s perfectly trained and never tries to eat poop or do any of the many other fun things dogs do. No cat-like critter in fantasy or SF has ever tried to sharpen its claws on the ducting or spray the alien ambassador’s leg. Or, for that matter, tried to mate with the alien ambassador, because said ambassador smells so much like a female in season (Okay. I need to go to bed. When I start on this path it never ends well). Imagine the plot complications that could arise from an unfortunate incident like that, though. It’s an opportunity that few have taken.
Hell, can you imagine a story where the harried human diplomat is calling home every few days to make sure the kids do their homework, dealing with his underling’s pet trying to hump the alien ambassador, and – because it’s fiction – convince the aliens that no, it’s not a deliberate insult and no, they really don’t need to eliminate the entire human species over it? Maybe I’m just overtired, but I would totally read that.
A little bit of the everyday frustrations can make the big ones seem bigger – and also make the characters more real. It’s also a good way to inject a bit of humor into a piece – something that works very well to lighten the tension at the right times. After all, interesting times aren’t just the huge world-changing ones, and sometimes when you’re in the world-changing type it just looks like the ordinary sort.
Mad Genius Club 
18 responses to “Interesting Times”
KATE! I’ve got something I need to finish. Not chaseing after this squirrel you’ve dangled.
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“Don’t worry Dad. I haven’t blown out the side of the station. Yet. I think I know how I need to adjust the chemicals, now. Right. Talk to you tomorrow.” Harry hung up the phone and walked back to where Mikey was sighting in the improvised plasma rifle.
“So, what’s keeping the Parental Unit too busy to come home for dinner _this time_?”
“Eh, he said something about stray dogs circling the embassy pod and howling. One of them got in and humped some ambassador from Whoknoooswere.”
“Hmm, maybe we ought to go catch some of the strays. They could come in handy as a distraction, if we attack any Whoknooosweren liners.”
“Yeah, but first we need to hijack the HAFAS* when it comes into dock. _Then_ we can start planing our careers as space pirates.”
“Do we really have to take Doris with us?” Mikey’s voice edged toward whine.
“Yes. We promised Dad we wouldn’t go anywhere with out the baby sitter. Beside, she can probably cook. And if we bring her boyfriend along, she won’t complain too much.”
Mikey sneered. “And what happens when she wears out this one? You’re almost old enough for her to notice.”
*HAFAS–Highly Automated Fast Attack Ship. Yes, the nickname is a bit obvious.
Snicker, snicker, snicker. *wipes laughter tear from eye* Did you grow up on my block, by chance? ‘Cuz I know that family.
Heh. Are you SURE about that? Because that sounds awfully like a story to me 🙂
I broke my rule of not reading on the internet until the writing is done – honestly, just for long enough to down the protein shake – and found the above – post AND comment – major chuckle for the day.
Alas, there are way too many human characters in the WIP to add pets – even to the reclusive writer who by all rights should have a cat, or buy a dog when life turns menacing – but you have sorely tempted me.
Now, who can I graft the chinchilla I have acquired onto? There ought to be use SOMEWHERE for one.
The reclusive writer needs a cat. Definitely. It’s a writer thing. Let a persnickety stray adopt your writer and watch the fireworks.
Bwahahah! I can so see a Retief story with the pet vs. ambassador problem. And yeah, I actually ended up doing two stories where the MC has to find a way to earn a human-normal living because, let’s face it, barely potty trained 3-year-olds do not travel well in very small space ships. Nor are they conducive to doing business. (“No, the final offer is,” looks over her shoulder, “don’t touch that! Excuse me,” sound of wailing toddler begins, et cetera.) And then there’s the other character who is trying to balance recurring wanderlust with raising four kids and managing his wife’s huge and complicated family estate. And the MC spoiling other parents’ kids because she so badly wants children of her own . . . But no pets, true.
Oh, I love that. “That’s my final… hang on, someone’s done stinky” The possibilities…
I’ve actually seen versions and variations of all of these sorts of things done, and done well, in SF. (Yes, the character was essentially a junior clerk in a bureaucracy, and the fact that he was had a notable effect on his self-concept and several absolutely crucial effects on the plot. And yes, although marquee characters worrying about mundane things generally isn’t done, I’ve seen several cases where their failure to do so is visibly noteworthy within the world they inhabit. As in “wow…you boys really grew up, didn’t you?”. “Yeah, _DAD_…that’s what HAPPENS when you DISAPPEAR and spend YEARS gallivanting about the WORLD having crazy ADVENTURES while your KIDS are back home…”.)
Of course, you’re also talking about two basically different types of story. One would be “ordinary person stumbles on an extraordinary problem”, and the other, opposite end would be “extraordinary people sometimes have ordinary problems too”. The former group has been, in one form or another, one of the staples of SF for a long time, even if the supposedly “ordinary” people haven’t always been the sort of people we’d actually encounter in the real world regularly. The latter seems to have only appeared more recently, and tends to be played for laughs. (There’s a “comic book superhero tells his troubles to the psychiatrist” short from a writer I know which never fails to amuse everyone I show it to, for example.)
That short sounds hilarious.
Honestly, this kind of rant is what happens when I wait too long to write the post for the week and I’m half asleep at the time. When Sarah’s A Few Good Men comes out, watch for the coffee scene. You’ll recognize it when you see it.
Pratchett does the mix of mundane life and extraordinary events very well, too. Of course, last night I couldn’t think of a single example.
One thing I don’t write is children. I can’t – I don’t know them well enough. Cats on the other hand… No-one would believe that.
As I recall, Mercedes Lackey owns horses (and rehabs birds), so it seems like she handles their care pretty well when they come up. I’ve only had cockatiels, and horses always know that they can get their jollies walking up to ravines when I’m on their back, so I don’t tend to be around them much, so I can’t say as I know for sure they’re handled realistically, but I think so.
And Tamora Pierce seems to have a handle on other types of pets pretty well. One of my favorite mini-series of hers (though I’m hesitant to recommend it right now as it is literally “progressives versus conservatives” in those actual terms), the Protector of the Small series, has a lot of times where her adventuring is hampered or set off in new directions due to how she has to take care of pets. I don’t remember how many times poopy diapers has come up for her characters, but at least one has been barfed on.
A lot of authors would probably prefer avoiding such mundane things. Like you said, it’s easier. It’s also less undignified. (I think too much about dignity sometimes. I think it might come from being a Leo. I’d rather be hungry than humiliated. xD; And if a character is mortified, I squirm and cringe. Sometimes to the point of skipping the chapters. It took me forever to read Emma because of the scene where she’s rude to the talkative lady.)
Wandering thoughts wandered off. This post was going to have some sort of unifying conclusion, but meh.
Huh. For some reason, you reminded me. One of the cute little scenes in Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance includes a naked baby streaker, who is being chased by Miles, naturally. Actually, I think one of Sarah’s stories had a baby doing the nude race, too. Maybe it’s a meme whose time has come?
That was partial revenge for five year old Miles jumping his grandfather’s new stallion over a fence.
Sounds like a fun revenge… For some reason I never could get into those books.
One of the refinishing mysteries – E did the streaker thing. I don’t remember which one it was.
I’m so glad to see all the examples crawling out of the woodwork – I really couldn’t think of much when I wrote the post.
Wandering thoughts do that. And I can’t take characters being set up for humiliation, either. I’ll skip those parts. If it’s on TV, I’ll leave. Not that I watch TV. We have one, but the last time it was turned on was when we moved into the house in March, and the cable tech turned it on to check that everything was hooked up properly.
There’s a cat (RoadKill) in Anne McCaffrey’s “Acorna” series. That cat causes it’s owner quite a few problems. She handles it quite well
Anne McCaffrey handled animals well, as I recall. It’s been a while since I read any of her books, but I remember her animals being true to their nature.
When I write stories I try to point out that there are some obvious problems with saving the world(s). For example, no time at home (or little). None of my main characters have pets, so that hasn’t come up yet for me.
In Michael’s stories (especially the three “Columba” stories), he deals with animals well. (Though of course the were-mice in his Atlantean Union/Joey maverick universe are intelligent animals so that may be off the subject, considering.) The bicorns get fed and watered and their needs have to be dealt with, while the magical were-mice (not the same were-mice as in the AU stuff — Michael did love writing about were-mice) that Columba had made helped cook and take care of the other animals, but were not so intelligent that it wasn’t obvious that they, too, had needs that needed to be dealt with. (The fourth story there has been in progress for a while, but I’m struggling with Columba’s “voice.” I’m probably going to have to do what Brandon Sanderson did with the Robert Jordan stuff; just write my own way, write a note saying that’s what I’ve done, and just get on.)
And yes, we need more stories about normal people in SF&F. (And I’d love to see more of that short that Pam started. Go, Pam!)