A writing friend asked:

Why do secondary characters always seem more interesting than the MCs? Can someone answer than for me? And I’m not talking about someone else’s stories, I’m talking about my own. The MC should be the most important to me, right? Argh!

My 2 cents:

There is a reason why secondary characters steal the scene if not the story (book, film or stage).  It is because they are written without the restraints we put on our Main Characters.  They don’t even have to be sane! 

It is important to remember, though, that most attempts to turn Secondary Characters into Main Characters have been dismal failures.  Secondary Characters are not designed to carry a whole story.  They are only there to make the Main Character laugh or cry.

Later, in thinking about this, I decided it might help to give an example. 

This is from my time travel fantasy series:

The book: Light in the Dark Ages 

Time:  after 700 AD in the days before Charles was called “ le Martel” (The Hammer)

Place:  The border between Brittany and the Frankish Kingdom…

            Margueritte was in the barn, in the potato bins when Roland came unexpectedly.  She was in her apron.  Her hands were dirty and she even had a streak of dirt across one cheek put there by the back of the hand used to wipe away the sweat.  “Oh, Sir.”  She started to turn away 

            “Oh stop,” he said in her same tone.  “My mother and sisters sorted potatoes all the time, and likely more than enough for a lifetime.”

            “It is important, you know,” Margueritte said, agreeably.

            “Absolutely.  One rotten one can spoil the whole bin.”  Roland looked up at Grimly [imp], whom he genuinely liked, and Goldenrod [fairy] for whom he had the deepest love and affection, and Hammerhead [ogre], whom he at least respected, even if he still found it hard to look at the fellow.  They were lounging around on the hay while their mistress was sweating at her labor.  “Say, though,” he said.  “Wouldn’t it be better to let these little ones of yours sort the potatoes?  You and I could maybe walk again by the stream before your brother and father find me.”

            “Oh, I don’t know if that would be such a good idea.”  Margueritte shook her head, slowly.

            “Why sure.”  Grimly jumped up.  “We would love to sort the taters.  I’m getting bored just sitting around anyway.”

            “I can help.”  Goldenrod assured them all.

            “Er, OK.”  Hammerhead was not quite sure what was being asked.

            Margueritte explained while she wiped her hands as clean as she could on her apron.  “You just need to go through them one by one.  The good ones go here.”  She pointed to the empty bin.  “Any that are especially soft or if they are rotten, or even if you are not sure if they are good to eat, put them in the bucket.  Oh I don’t know.”  She said the last in one breath, and as she began to have second thoughts, she quickly turned to Roland and bumped into him.  He put his arm over her shoulder to steady her.

            “We can stay a minute to see that they get started,” he said.

            Margueritte reached both hands up to hold his and make sure his arm stayed around her shoulder.  She said nothing, but bit her lower lip as she watched.

            “Now, if I’ve got it, the good ones go in the bin and the rotten ones in the bucket.  Come on, then.” Grimly took charge and climbed up on the bin.  Each little one took a potato.  At least Goldenrod tried to take one, but she could not quite lift it.  Hammerhead took about six in his big hand by accident and then stared at them in utter uncertainty.  Grimly made up for the other two by instantly going from one to the next.

            “No good, no good.  Definitely no good.  Nope. No way.  Not a chance.”

            “Ungh!”  Goldenrod was tugging with all her little might.

            “Nope. No good. Ooo, this one looks like Herbert Hoover.”

            “Let me see.”  Goldenrod said, leaving off her tug of war.

            Hammerhead was still unmoved, staring at his spuds.

            “Who is Herbert Hoover?”  Goldenrod asked.

            “I don’t know, but this looks like him.”  He looked at Goldenrod and they spoke in unison. 

            “No good.”  The bucket was filling rapidly and not one was yet in the bin.

            “Nope. Nope. Nope.”  Grimly started shoveling toward the bucket and Goldenrod was back to tugging until Grimly made enough of a dent for her potato to roll and take herdown with it with a “Weee!”

            Margueritte’s sides were splitting with laughter, and Roland was laughing right with her until she turned toward him and their eyes met.  The laughter vanished in an instant and he drew her up to him and held her tight.  Their lips touched, soft and warm, and they might have remained that way for some time if Grimly had not whistled.

            “Woohoo!”

            “Whaty?”  Goldenrod said, getting her little head above the edge of the bin.

            Roland looked up and Marguerite turned, both having rather silly smiles, just as Hammerhead stuck all six potatoes in his mouth at once and chewed and announced.  “These are good to eat.”  Margueritte barely stopped him in time, before he disgorged his chewed bits into the good bin.

            She thanked the little ones and asked them to see if Luckless or Tomberlain might need their assistance.

            “Always glad to be of service.”  Grimly said, and Roland rolled up his sleeves and helped.

Tip #13

Secondary Characters should be designed for a purpose, not to carry the story, necessarily, but to help or hinder the Main Character, to “make the Main Character laugh or cry.”  Within that context, be creative, have fun, and if you enjoy them that is a good sign that the readers will probably enjoy them, too.

I don’t even pretend to be a poet, but allow me to share this thought:

No Excuses

I’ve got the kids, the dog and the cat

The TV and radio, noises like that

But I tune it all out when I sit in my chair

In order to write like there’s nobody’s there.

 

Daytimes are madness: storms on the sea

Ships in foul weather, crew mutiny.

Trains in collision, pileups with cars

Black holes of reason, exploding stars

 

Children, animals, customer kings

Workers, bosses, multi-task things

Paper and phones, gossip and news

Headaches, backaches and shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes.

 

Leaving at sunrise.  Home after dark

To blazing crescendo as soon as I park

It’s homework and talk, make sure everyone’s fed

Walk the dog, pet the cat, and put all to bed

 

Then at last there’s a moment when quiet descends

Like snow on Christmas Eve.

 

And I thank God because of that one special chair

Where I sit and I write like there’s nobody’s there.

 

The question I posed last time was why do we divide fiction into literary and genre and then divide it again into mainstream contemporary, historical romance, mystery, science fiction, fantasy, horror, and then further sub-divide it with words like paranormal, chick-lit, high, low, space opera, sword and sorcery, steampunk… sea chanteys?  God only knows!

My suggestion was to stop.  I feel that for every reader attracted to an arbitrary word like “paranormal” there are ten who are turned off.  This is not what any author wants to do, I’ll bet.

However, there is one way of dividing fiction into two camps which I am willing to do, and it stems from the fact that some people are not interested in reading anything that isn’t “real.”  This is especially true of any number of academics who are determined to maintain the illusion of literature as against all of that other “junk” fiction which is deemed “unrealistic” or worse, worthy only of children. 

Between you and me, “real” may be the most arbitrary word of all, but I am willing to go with it.  To that end, I divide stories (when necessary) into these two categories: 

There are stories about WHAT IS, that is stories that strive to be real world – “realistic.”  These would be mainstream, “literary,” historical, memoir and “based on a true story,” type of stories.  Most mysteries, some thrillers and many romances easily fall into this category, even if the larger world calls them genre.

“What is“ stories lean in the direction of non-fiction or are fictionalized accounts of real stories.

Then there are stories that are WHAT IF, and Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” falls here, even if most call it “literature.”  The Shack, the Time Traveler’s Wife, and plenty of other recent so-called literary works also fall here. 

What if stories speak closer to the truth, which is always “stranger than fiction.”

Apart from that, though, I do not find the division of fiction into all of the labels helpful.  It may be helpful to know what kind of story the group, magazine, agent, editor or publisher and ultimately the reader might be looking for, but I recommend reading works and lists to see if your story is comparable to the interests of the person or group.  Otherwise, what a paranormal, historical romantic mystery with horror elements means to any two people might be two totally different things.  The author might think the description is perfect, but on hearing the categories, an agent, editor, publisher or reader might imagine something else. 

Enough.  I do recognize that we are indeed like Adam in the Garden, determined to name everything and my rant is not going to stop anyone from categorizing writing in every imaginable way.  Clearly, I do not find the words we use helpful for a discussion about fiction, though, since each person has their own definitions.  Yet I do believe there is a way in which fiction can be divided and discussed, reasonably.  That would be by plot or theme such as competition, relationships, vice/virtue, journey, etc.  I will be looking at these classic storylines in posts to come and I look forward to discussing them with you.

We do it all the time; the obvious example being that literature and genre live in two different worlds, and according to most academics, never the  “Twain” shall meet…  But is this wise?

I have heard it said that literature is more character/relationship driven and genre is more action/story driven.  I don’t deny that there is some truth in that, but I do feel that most of the best genre stories are full of deep characters in relationship and most of the best literary works also tell a good story and deal in conflict, action and resolution.

These days, of course, it is not enough to divide the world of fiction into two camps.  There must be sub-divisions and sub-sub categories until the poor reader is left baffled and confused.  What is a paranormal, historical romantic mystery with horror elements, especially when it is deemed “literature” as opposed to “genre”?

I believe these kinds of categories might entice a few readers who might like paranormal or romance or mystery stories, but more often I believe they turn potential readers off – people who might otherwise read and enjoy your story!  Yet I hear authors themselves agonizing about how to categorize their own work.  Why?  So you can turn off some potential reader?

I don’t believe Bradbury cared where Fahrenheit 451 got put on the shelf, as long as it got on the shelf.  Kurt Vonnegut, on the other hand, always fought the “science fiction” label, even as Stephen King has worked hard to be known as more than a mere horror (genre) writer.  The reason for this is obvious.  As the cliché puts it, “they want to appeal to a larger audience.”  (Duh?)!

I truly believe we have not done ourselves a favor by dividing the written word into anything other than fiction and non-fiction.  I am not sure H. G. Wells contemplated that his books were anything other than works of fiction; and the same with Dickens’ “Christmas Carol” (horror?) and Twain’s “Connecticut Yankee” (science fiction/time travel?). 

Gulliver was political commentary, granted, but as a story it was the epitome of a fantasy story.  Why shouldn’t we call it a genre story?  How about Alice in Wonderland: a tome about language?  I could name thousands of literary works that reason says should be called “genre” stories, and I could equally name thousands of genre stories that meet the criteria of anyone’s “literary” ideal but one…  That one will have to wait until my next post.

For now, how do you feel about the divisions in fiction?

In my universe:

Since all magic is sourced in the exercise of spiritual  power over this universe of matter and energy, it is not appropriate to say all such magic is intrinsically wrong.  Such thinking led to the death of many an innocent person in the days of the witch hunts.  But simply having the power or ability to do something is not wrong anymore than to suggest that a basketball player is wrong for being able to sink baskets or a singer is wrong for singing.  Just because there was a Doctor Mengele, that does not mean we should now condemn all doctors.

The right and wrong of any situation is not in the ability, but in the use of that ability.  In short, wickedness in magic, like anywhere else, is when a person uses their ability in an inappropriate or twisted way.  In other words, it isn’t a question of talent, but one of authority.

You can read for yourself how the prophets of old were reluctant to exercise any power, even God given power, and even when God told them to do it.  God had to say, in effect, this is what I am authorizing you to do: raise the widow’s son, speak to the people of Israel, call down plagues upon Egypt.

It is no different in the New Testament and the early church.  First they prayed for authority and then they spoke boldly.  The reason the Witch of Endor is condemned is not because of what she did – she certainly had the power to do it – but because she had no authority to do it!

Authorization is a nebulous thing when the ancient Gods themselves are presumably under the guidance of the Most High God (the source) and yet exercise considerable independence in both thought and action.  The God’s, of course, could do almost anything, but they at least knew that not everything was expedient.  Most knew not to cross the line, but then the line often appeared as a large gray area.

All the more when it comes to humans with magic; humans who have a history of not listening to God.  The temptation is to do everything a person can do, and to seek ways to increase their power and abilities so they can do even more.  Wisdom speaks of restraint and seeking out the purpose for the gift.

One way to tell wicked magic is when the one with magic attempts to control events and the environment around them for their own personal benefit.  You can be sure that other people will be hurt in that process, and God is not likely to authorize damaging others for personal gain.  A good lesson for non-magical life. 

Another obvious wicked use of magic is the attempt to take power over others and shape (even possess) their minds and hearts.  Freedom of conscience is a God given liberty and it ought not to be abused.  Even non-magical tyrants should learn this.

Now, I am not going to list all the ways magic can be turned wicked.  I could not possibly list them all, so let me just reiterate that wickedness (evil) in magic is seen, not in the magic itself, but when the magic is used in inappropriate, twisted and unauthorized ways.

This is how I have conceived magic in my universe.

In my universe: 

Following the days of humanity’s fall from grace, the human race remained rudderless.  Cain killed Abel, Enoch did something right, Noah saved a few people in a gopher wood boat, and Nimrod built a tower to his own glory.  The Titans and spirits on the earth were still charged with watching over creation, and the human race was still off limits.  It was after Babel that the Gods came into their own, some by violence on their own fathers and mothers, and were given the charge of testing and trying the souls of people and, in a real sense, bearing witness to creation and the Most High God (the One True God) so that no one would have an excuse.

Unfortunately, even in those early days before Babel, the “Sons of God found the daughters of men fair…”  All the more so after the tower fell.  Spiritual power, the source of the magic, passed into the human race through the children born out of the union of God (or spirit) and mortal.  Heracles (Hercules), Achilles and Aneas are three very good examples.  Over generations, that blood and power would diminish, but it was one good way in which magic came to people.  Merlin, they say, had an incubus for a father.

THE other way magic could come into people was by gift.  The Princess, the life of my time traveler born in 228 BC was gifted by Artemis to hunt and track and was considered the best archer in her generation.  The fact that she used her skills to hunt and track down certain men is a bit of a story, but the power she had came by way of a gift, and it was found over time that such gifts often, though not always, also passed down through the generations, always diminishing, until disappearing in the general population

Even the littlest spirits could gift people in small ways.  Think of the three fairies who spoke blessings over the cradle of sleeping beauty.

Now, in all cases, the gift or blood would eventually breed out over the generations, unless people of magic married only those who also had magic.  This occurred in my stories of the Other Earth.  It is the place where many people, in particular people of magic went when the great persecutions came with the rise of the last and greatest of the ancient empires (and their collapse into dark ages) and the rise of the world’s great religions.  Of course, when a small population inbreeds, there are other dangers, like a very powerful wizard with the mind of an idiot… but that is another story.

On our earth, in our day, there isn’t much magic left – though I won’t say there is none.  Even though when Christ came the whole configuration of spiritual life, the source of the magic on earth changed.  The Gods gave up their little bit of flesh and blood and “went over to the other side.”  Most of the greater and lesser spirits did this also, and though their spiritual forces, the spirits of the Gods, still function on the earth, they are once again deaf, dumb and blind.

Into this place, the Most High (God, himself) has come to “gift” people, his own Holy Spirit coming upon  them to do, not what we call magic, but miracles.  At the same time, the angels of God are able to empower and defend his people, and good thing, because the demons are presently able to both empower some for use and attack many.  Steal, kill and destroy is what demons do best, but wickedness in magic will have to wait for the next post.

In my universe:

The Celts (Irish) have a legend about the fall of Satan from Heaven.  They say when God created the universe, he created three groups of angelic beings.  Satan and his angels were charged with testing creation.  Michael and his were to defend, support or uphold creation.  Gabriel and his were the heralds, to announce the goodness of creation to all. 

When Satan rebelled and was cast from Heaven, he took his third of the heavenly host with him.  As they passed through the realm of the earth, however, some of Satan’s followers had a thought, perhaps their first independent thought.  “Why should we blindly follow Lucifer into Hell?”

Those spirits stopped where they were, no longer fit for heaven, but not fully rebellious.  They were stuck, but by the grace of God, they were allowed to take on form.  Why?  Because a spirit has neither eyes nor ears nor any other apparatus to apprehend this universe.  By itself, a spirit is little more than the blind force as it is often understood to be.  By taking on form, these spirits could perceive the world and know what they were doing.  And why was that important?  Because they still had a job to do:  to test and try creation.

Though there is a continuum of spiritual beings from the greatest to the least, it is possible to crudely divide these earth-bound spirits into four types which initially would include the Titans, the greater spirits, the lesser spirits and the little spirits. 

The Titans were nature spirits in the largest sense of the word.  It was the children of the Titans who became the Gods of old that were turned in their task from testing creation to testing and trying men’s souls.  

The greater and lesser spirits were rarely found in human form, though the cold north wind might be found by sailors as a giant with an evil eye.  The Djinn, the various types of which run the scale from greater to lesser spirits, sometimes took on humanish (or ghoulish) form.  The spirits of purity were generally seen in the guise of the unicorn.  Greater Spirits in China often wore the form of the dragon.  The howling spirits of war and blood lust did appear in Celtic lands as women, but then, they had a touch of the blood of the Gods in them.

The little spirits or sprites are too numerous in their kinds to name.  There were once sprites in the air, the waters, the fire and the earth, but the sprites of the earth are the ones that are best known to most people.  In describing these, I often simplify matters by using the descriptions given in the Eddas:  There are dark elves, including goblins and trolls, and light elves, including fairies and brownies, and there are dwarfs in between, including ogres, imps and the like.  Curiously, these little ones are not immortal like their bigger, “cousins.”  Though very long lived, they nevertheless die after a time and await judgment even as mortals do.

In my universe, these little spirits often need help themselves to focus and concentrate their own spiritual power.  Thus we see wands and fairy dust and such depicted in many “fairy tales.” 

Most greater and lesser spirits need no such helps, and for the most part they are immortal, though many can be killed; but then many of these spirits are nature spirits and in their area of watch they need only a word of command like “let there be light” to affect this world.

The Gods, of course, are also limited, but it is a limit in their authority, not in their power.  As the saying goes in my time travel fantasy, “there is almost nothing the Gods cannot do.”  They can bend, shrink or expand space and time and change the course of the world simply by deciding how it must be.  To be able to do almost anything, though, does not mean they are so authorized or that it would be wise.  For one, competing Gods cancel each other out and that makes them vulnerable, even like Baldur, to die.  For two, these spirits also wish to regain Heaven (and who can blame them).  Most want to do their job well.  Some…

Exactly what wickedness in magic is will be covered two posts from now.  For the next post, I will say something about how magic came into the human race.

 

Writers of science fiction and fantasy in particular, but all genres in general including literary writers and storytellers of all kinds may speak of creating a world or universe within which their story or series of stories take place.  Some might simply call it the setting for the story, but really it is more than that because it not only includes houses, buildings, sometimes woods or communities or entire nations that do not actually exist; but people that are invented (after a fashion) for story purposes as well. 

For any author who steps outside of our present reality, building a story world that is consistent and plausible is imperative.  This is true for every author, even those who travel on the road, or visit a shack, or happen to be married to a time traveler.  The author needs to know what is and what isn’t, what is possible and what is not, and to some extent, how it works.  In short, they need to build a viable universe. 

This series of posts concerns my universe.  I want to share some thoughts on creating and building a world in which a story may live and breathe.  I hope by showing some aspects of my own universe, as conceived, you will find the discussions helpful in your own work, though I expect you will develop things differently and in your own way, and so you should.

In my universe:

Magic in my universe is rooted in the spiritual world.  It begins with the Biblical witness where God said, “Let there be light” and there was light.  It occurred to me that the Spirit has power over matter and energy in this way, not only to manipulate the material universe, but even to create “ex-nihilo” (out of nothing).  And what is magic as commonly understood but the exercise of some power to affect this material universe?

 I have no doubt that someone from the first century would find electric lights magical.  That sense of awe might be diminished on learning to turn the light on and off by themselves, but even if they learned to use the remote, I am still sure they would count as magic how I managed to fit all of those people into a flat television screen.  I have seen enough of the science to imagine a teleportation device (like on Star Trek).  But what first century person would see that as anything but magic?

In these examples, we see how science and technology have taken various “energies” found within this material universe and used them to manipulate matter and affect life.  You might imagine cooking in a microwave oven. 

In my universe, spiritual power takes precedent over both matter and energy.  You might then imagine a wizard calling or commanding microwaves to gather around your person and frying you where you stand without needing the oven.  You could also imagine a wizard commanding you to change, and the matter (as in “Let there be light”) would be unable to resist changing.  Thus, POOF!  You are a frog.

Of course, while the human spirit has the promise of being made greater than the angels, at the present time the human spirit is so diminished we cannot normally touch the world “magically.”  That is reality.  Even the wizard, opened to the power inherent in the spirit, would likely need something – a wand, a potion, gold dust perhaps – to bring their spiritual power into focus and to manage it.

But, you may ask, if the human spirit is so diminished, how is it that any human being might gain the power of magic?  That will have to wait until the next post:  MAGIC and the fallen world.