Showing posts with label Star Wars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Star Wars. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 29, 2019

Interview with Author Renee Scattergood!


https://www.amazon.com/Shadow-Stalker-Part-Episodes-Bundles-ebook/dp/B00VI2ZCY8
 
Today, Renee Scattergood, author of the dark fantasy series Shadow Stalker, has graciously agreed to be interviewed by Chillers and Thrillers.

As the author of the urban fantasy A Whole World Full of Hurt, I am glad to welcome Renee and to hear her views on the fantasy genre in general and the dark fantasy subgenre in particular.

Renee's books, which have received outstanding reviews, are available on Amazon.

C & T: Welcome, Renee! Chillers and Thrillers is glad to have you as our guest speaker.

R S: Thank you for inviting me! I’m really excited.

C & T: How would you define “dark fantasy”?

R S: I would define it as any fantasy that has dark (as in psychologically dark and twisted) or horror themes.

C & T: I know that George Lucas inspired you to become a fantasy author. In writing the screenplays for his original trilogy, Lucas said that he followed the pattern of storytelling laid out by Joseph Campbell in Campbell's book The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Has Campbell's understanding of the structure of such stories influenced your own work?

R S: Somewhat. I often follow certain aspects of the heroes’ journey, but only in such a way that it drives the plot of my own story, and each story is different.

C & T: In writing The Flame of the Sea, my action-adventure Viking novel, I modeled the plot structure on the paradigm of Vladimir Prop's Morphology of the Folktale. Most of my other fiction is modeled on Gustav Freytag's pyramid, which is adapted from his Die Technik des Dramas (The Technique of Drama), which he based on his analyses of ancient Greek and Shakespearean drama. Have you found these—or other—approaches to structuring stories helpful to you in the writing of your novels?

R S: Honestly, no. I tend to go by feel more than anything. Not sure if that makes sense. I guess you can say I’m more of an instinctive writer and, rather than follow a structure or formula, I tend to go by feel. In the end, there is a structure to it, but I don’t plan it that way.

C & T: What authors, of fantasy or other types of fiction, have inspired or influenced you as a writer?

R S: I’m a big fan of Terry Goodkind. His work has really inspired me and whenever I’m in a lull, I can read one of his books and it always puts me in a writing mood. Lindsay Buroker is another author that has inspired me, and while I love her work, she has inspired me in a different way. She’s self-published, like me, and has made a good living with her work. She shares all her failures and successes, and it helps me with my own work.

C & T: It's always refreshing to me to see a fantasy series presented from the point of view of a female protagonist, as is your own series. How do you think a female protagonist shapes your narrative? Does such a protagonist provide attitudes, behaviors, beliefs, desires, emotional responses, ideas, judgments, or values that differ from those of the genre's male protagonists? How would your teenage protagonist, Auren, differ in these ways from, say, young Lucas Skywalker? What does a female protagonist “bring” to fantasy that a male protagonist may not?

R S: To be honest, when I originally wrote Shadow Stalker, my protagonist was a male. It was also a much different story. I guess in many aspects it was a lot like Star Wars. A friend of mine, who is a published author, gave me some feedback and suggested I rewrite it with a female protagonist.

I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me. I suppose, growing up, all the heroes of the stories I read were guys, so in my mind that’s the way it was supposed to be.

I was amazed at how much the story changed when I made the protagonist a female. For one thing, her life goals are different. My male protagonist was looking for adventure, whereas my female protagonist wanted to go to college with her friends and have a normal life. She enjoys adventure but doesn’t want her whole life focused on that adventure.

Everyone expects the male to be the hero, but it’s a surprise when it’s a female. The men around her want to protect her, but she doesn’t want to be protected. She wants to show them she can be just as strong.

Mostly, a female protagonist inspires the young women who read about them. They may not be superhuman or heroes in the same way, but it inspires them to be more than what society expects them to be.

T & C: Many of the reviews of your series cite your characters as one of the elements readers enjoy. What makes your characters intriguing to readers? What tips do you have for writers concerning how to create interesting characters?

R S: I start every story I write with the characters. The story develops around my characters, and I really get into their heads to show the readers what the character is thinking, feeling and experiencing.

I’ve likened it to how a method actor researches and gets into the heads of their characters. If you want your readers to really connect with your characters, then you have to get into their heads and bring them to life.

C&T: Reviews also suggest that your plots are gripping. Do you have any particular techniques for creating, maintaining, and heightening suspense?

R S: I think that comes from how I develop the characters as well. As I’m writing, I’m picturing the scene in my head, from the character’s point of view, as though it’s playing out like a movie. I write what I see and feel as though it’s happening to me.

C & T: One reviewer identifies “punishment, torture, and execution” as being features that make your fiction “dark fantasy.” Do you agree with this assessment? Are other elements of dark fantasy present in your work?

R S: Oh absolutely. It’s the main reason I labelled it dark fantasy because I know it’s a trigger for a lot of people, and other just don’t like that. But someone who is looking for “dark” stories expect that sort of thing.

Another reason is because of the twisted mentality of Drevin (the main bad guy at the start) and the Galvadi Empire (which was created by Drevin).

C & T: You have a lot of reviews for your Shadow Stalker series, Renee! What's your secret?

R S: I don’t have a secret, really! I’ve just followed what other successful authors have done. I connect with my readers on a personal level on social media and through my newsletter. I ask them for reviews when they read my work in my newsletter and at the end of the book. It’s really important to have a medium where you can interact with your readers, and don’t be afraid to ask them for help. If they love your work, they’ll want to help you.

C & T: Is there anything else you'd like to tell us?

R S: Just that I’ve really enjoyed this interview, and I hope your readers enjoy the free copy of Shadow Stalker. I hope they’ll give it a read and let me know what they think!

C & T: If you'd like to write an article to share on Chillers and Thrillers, we'd be glad to follow up your interview with your article, on the topic of your choice.

Thank you for taking time to speak with us today, Renee. We enjoyed your insights and look forward to reading many more of your novels. To learn more about Renee and her work, subscribe to her newsletter (and get one of her books, free) and check out these great resources (click the title to access the site):








Saturday, December 26, 2009

Quick Tip: Narrative Reversals

Copyright 2009 by Gary L. Pullman
 
Most readers and writers know about plot twists, which usually result from situational irony--setting up an expectation that is later resolved in a manner different from that which one is led to believe is likely. However, writers can, and sometimes do, also upset expectations regarding other elements of fiction, such as character, conflict, setting, and theme. A character who is established as self-centered and self-serving can turn out to be capable of being altruistic and humane, as Han Solo, of Star Wars, turns out to be. A conflict that seems likely to end in only one way can end in an unexpected manner, as the conflict between Gone With the Wind's Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler does; all the way to the end of the novel, Rhett is interested in winning the heartless Scarlett’s heart, and, when he finally seems to get his own heart’s desire, well, “frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,” he tells her. A setting that appears to be dangerous can turn out to be a refuge, as Spike’s crypt is for Dawn when she is being hunted by the goddess Glory (Buffy the Vampire Slayer). The opposite can be true, too: a character who seeks sanctuary in a church can find that the holy place is a place of danger, as Nightcrawler does in the X2: X-Men United movie, only to be tracked down and captured by Jean Grey and Storm. A theme can also be inverted through irony. The apparent theme of a story can be provided, perhaps through the dialogue or the habitual behavior of a character, only to be reversed at the end of the narrative or drama. At the outset of Gran Torino, Walt Kowalski, a racist war hero, avoids young people, members of ethnic and racial groups, religious people, and anyone else who does not measure up to his narrow standards of propriety until he rescues a young Hmong woman from black gang members who seem intent upon raping her. The movie’s theme, which seems to be that it is best to mind one’s own business, adopting an everyone-for-himself philosophy, turns out to be one that affirms the importance of brotherly love and self-sacrifice.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Comings and Goings: Encountering Danger and Destiny

There are only two ways by which a protagonist may encounter an antagonist. Either the main character must go to the villain or the bad guy must come to the hero.

Despite the extreme limitation of the come-or-go nature or such encounters, writers have exercised a fair amount of creativity in varying the means by which their characters rendezvous with their destinies as these fates are embodied by the antagonistic beings or forces they engage. Moreover, in doing so, they often offer a contemporary variation upon an older theme. Indeed, the variation’s tie-in with a familiar predecessor can be a selling point in pitching a series to studio or network executives. Gene Roddenberry, the creator of the television series Star Trek, for example, pitched his series as a “Wagon Train to the stars.” (Wagon Train is a television Western in which pioneers traveled West in a wagon train, encountering adventures along the way; the series’ unity and continuity was supplied by the continuing presence of the main cast.) In producing Firefly, Joss Whedon followed Roddenberry’s lead, making his spaceship and its crew stand-ins for the wagon train and its team. Obviously, whether Conestoga wagons or spaceships, it was the vehicle, in all three series, which transported the adventurers to the adventures wherein they met their adversaries.

Another of Whedon’s television series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, exemplifies the opposite approach. The show’s protagonist, Buffy Summers, stays put (on the Hellmouth, a center of convergent mystical forces that attracts all manner of paranormal and supernatural entities and forces), and the bad guys come to her.

These two approaches to introducing the white hats to the black hats have been subjected to a wide range of variations, as a consideration of television series, staged plays, movies, and printed fiction (epic poems, short stories, and novels) shows. Have Gun, Will Travel, a Western in which the main character, Paladin, a mercenary gunfighter, traveled from town to town to mete out justice for a price, took the predatory protagonist to his prey. In Maverick, another Western, a pair of brothers, both professional gamblers, roamed from town to town seeking a pair of jacks or better and, often, a couple of frontier temptresses upon whom to spend their winnings, managing to get into trouble of one kind or another along the way. Han Solo, Chewbaca, Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, and other Star Wars characters flit about the universe, engaging the evil Emperor Palpatine, the emperor’s chief enforcer, Darth Vader, and the empire’s army of star troopers. Aided by Gandalf, Aragorn (“Strider”), Galadriel, Legolas, and others, Lord of the Rings' Frodo Baggins, accompanied by Merry, Pippin, and Sam Gamgee, journey from the Shire to Mordor to destroy the One Ring, encountering the Dark Riders or Ring-Wraiths, the Balrog, Orcs, Saruman, Shelob, Gollum, and many other adversaries along the way.

Stephen King’s novels also exemplify the twofold means of introducing protagonists to whatever form of death and destruction they are destined to encounter, although the bad guys more typically come to the good guys than otherwise. In Carrie, evil comes to Carrie White in the form both of the mother with whom she lives and the classmates with whom she attends school. In Desperation, Tak escapes a caved-in mine to possess the residents of the Nevada town, but David Carver has the misfortune to be passing through Desperation with his family at the time. In It, the protean antagonist comes to Derry, Maine, every 27 years to gorge upon the townspeople’s children. It is the merchandise--and what the customers who buy it are willing to do to obtain it--that the antagonist, Leland Gaunt, brings to Castle Rock, Maine, that provides the malevolence in Needful Things.

Writers can enhance the comings and goings of characters by associating their sources of evil with existential states or conditions, with negative or harmful behavior, and with the follies and foibles of human nature. In Cujo, the rabid Saint Bernard seems to symbolize the infidelity of wife and mother Donna Trenton, whose adulterous affair not only destroys her marriage but leads, indirectly, to the death of her son. Likewise, the villains of Buffy the Vampire Slayer often represent such undesirable states, conditions, behaviors, or foibles as being ignored by one’s peers (“Out of Sight, Out of Mind”), drinking to excess (“Beer Bad”), abusive relationships (“Beauty and the Beasts”), substance abuse (“Wrecked”), and other personal and social demons of teenage and young adult life. Those stories based upon a journey or a quest may be vehicles for their protagonists’ self-discovery and enlightenment as well or a means for exposing social or political hypocrisies, false values, or other community or national shortcomings or transgressions. For example, many view religious faith as a positive force, but King’s Carrie and Children of the Corn suggest that religious fervor, when it becomes extreme, or fanatic, can be a force for evil rather than for good, as do the works of many other writers in both the horror genre and others. Likewise, religious faith that borders upon doubt and despair can be hazardous to one’s health, King’s Cycle of the Werewolf and ‘Salem’s Lot suggest. Evil, as always, flourishes in the shadow of righteousness.

Paranormal vs. Supernatural: What’s the Diff?

Copyright 2009 by Gary L. Pullman

Sometimes, in demonstrating how to brainstorm about an essay topic, selecting horror movies, I ask students to name the titles of as many such movies as spring to mind (seldom a difficult feat for them, as the genre remains quite popular among young adults). Then, I ask them to identify the monster, or threat--the antagonist, to use the proper terminology--that appears in each of the films they have named. Again, this is usually a quick and easy task. Finally, I ask them to group the films’ adversaries into one of three possible categories: natural, paranormal, or supernatural. This is where the fun begins.

It’s a simple enough matter, usually, to identify the threats which fall under the “natural” label, especially after I supply my students with the scientific definition of “nature”: everything that exists as either matter or energy (which are, of course, the same thing, in different forms--in other words, the universe itself. The supernatural is anything which falls outside, or is beyond, the universe: God, angels, demons, and the like, if they exist. Mad scientists, mutant cannibals (and just plain cannibals), serial killers, and such are examples of natural threats. So far, so simple.

What about borderline creatures, though? Are vampires, werewolves, and zombies, for example, natural or supernatural? And what about Freddy Krueger? In fact, what does the word “paranormal” mean, anyway? If the universe is nature and anything outside or beyond the universe is supernatural, where does the paranormal fit into the scheme of things?

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word “paranormal,” formed of the prefix “para,” meaning alongside, and “normal,” meaning “conforming to common standards, usual,” was coined in 1920. The American Heritage Dictionary defines “paranormal” to mean “beyond the range of normal experience or scientific explanation.” In other words, the paranormal is not supernatural--it is not outside or beyond the universe; it is natural, but, at the present, at least, inexplicable, which is to say that science cannot yet explain its nature. The same dictionary offers, as examples of paranormal phenomena, telepathy and “a medium’s paranormal powers.”

Wikipedia offers a few other examples of such phenomena or of paranormal sciences, including the percentages of the American population which, according to a Gallup poll, believes in each phenomenon, shown here in parentheses: psychic or spiritual healing (54), extrasensory perception (ESP) (50), ghosts (42), demons (41), extraterrestrials (33), clairvoyance and prophecy (32), communication with the dead (28), astrology (28), witchcraft (26), reincarnation (25), and channeling (15); 36 percent believe in telepathy.

As can be seen from this list, which includes demons, ghosts, and witches along with psychics and extraterrestrials, there is a confusion as to which phenomena and which individuals belong to the paranormal and which belong to the supernatural categories. This confusion, I believe, results from the scientism of our age, which makes it fashionable for people who fancy themselves intelligent and educated to dismiss whatever cannot be explained scientifically or, if such phenomena cannot be entirely rejected, to classify them as as-yet inexplicable natural phenomena. That way, the existence of a supernatural realm need not be admitted or even entertained. Scientists tend to be materialists, believing that the real consists only of the twofold unity of matter and energy, not dualists who believe that there is both the material (matter and energy) and the spiritual, or supernatural. If so, everything that was once regarded as having been supernatural will be regarded (if it cannot be dismissed) as paranormal and, maybe, if and when it is explained by science, as natural. Indeed, Sigmund Freud sought to explain even God as but a natural--and in Freud’s opinion, an obsolete--phenomenon.

Meanwhile, among skeptics, there is an ongoing campaign to eliminate the paranormal by explaining them as products of ignorance, misunderstanding, or deceit. Ridicule is also a tactic that skeptics sometimes employ in this campaign. For example, The Skeptics’ Dictionary contends that the perception of some “events” as being of a paranormal nature may be attributed to “ignorance or magical thinking.” The dictionary is equally suspicious of each individual phenomenon or “paranormal science” as well. Concerning psychics’ alleged ability to discern future events, for example, The Skeptic’s Dictionary quotes Jay Leno (“How come you never see a headline like 'Psychic Wins Lottery'?”), following with a number of similar observations:

Psychics don't rely on psychics to warn them of impending disasters. Psychics don't predict their own deaths or diseases. They go to the dentist like the rest of us. They're as surprised and disturbed as the rest of us when they have to call a plumber or an electrician to fix some defect at home. Their planes are delayed without their being able to anticipate the delays. If they want to know something about Abraham Lincoln, they go to the library; they don't try to talk to Abe's spirit. In short, psychics live by the known laws of nature except when they are playing the psychic game with people.
In An Encyclopedia of Claims, Frauds, and Hoaxes of the Occult and Supernatural, James Randi, a magician who exercises a skeptical attitude toward all things alleged to be paranormal or supernatural, takes issue with the notion of such phenomena as well, often employing the same arguments and rhetorical strategies as The Skeptic’s Dictionary.

In short, the difference between the paranormal and the supernatural lies in whether one is a materialist, believing in only the existence of matter and energy, or a dualist, believing in the existence of both matter and energy and spirit. If one maintains a belief in the reality of the spiritual, he or she will classify such entities as angels, demons, ghosts, gods, vampires, and other threats of a spiritual nature as supernatural, rather than paranormal, phenomena. He or she may also include witches (because, although they are human, they are empowered by the devil, who is himself a supernatural entity) and other natural threats that are energized, so to speak, by a power that transcends nature and is, as such, outside or beyond the universe. Otherwise, one is likely to reject the supernatural as a category altogether, identifying every inexplicable phenomenon as paranormal, whether it is dark matter or a teenage werewolf. Indeed, some scientists dedicate at least part of their time to debunking allegedly paranormal phenomena, explaining what natural conditions or processes may explain them, as the author of The Serpent and the Rainbow explains the creation of zombies by voodoo priests.

Based upon my recent reading of Tzvetan Todorov's The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to the Fantastic, I add the following addendum to this essay.

According to Todorov:

The fantastic. . . lasts only as long as a certain hesitation [in deciding] whether or not what they [the reader and the protagonist] perceive derives from "reality" as it exists in the common opinion. . . . If he [the reader] decides that the laws of reality remain intact and permit an explanation of the phenomena described, we can say that the work belongs to the another genre [than the fantastic]: the uncanny. If, on the contrary, he decides that new laws of nature must be entertained to account for the phenomena, we enter the genre of the marvelous (The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre, 41).
Todorov further differentiates these two categories by characterizing the uncanny as “the supernatural explained” and the marvelous as “the supernatural accepted” (41-42).

Interestingly, the prejudice against even the possibility of the supernatural’s existence which is implicit in the designation of natural versus paranormal phenomena, which excludes any consideration of the supernatural, suggests that there are no marvelous phenomena; instead, there can be only the uncanny. Consequently, for those who subscribe to this view, the fantastic itself no longer exists in this scheme, for the fantastic depends, as Todorov points out, upon the tension of indecision concerning to which category an incident belongs, the natural or the supernatural. The paranormal is understood, by those who posit it, in lieu of the supernatural, as the natural as yet unexplained.

And now, back to a fate worse than death: grading students’ papers.

My Cup of Blood

Anyone who becomes an aficionado of anything tends, eventually, to develop criteria for elements or features of the person, place, or thing of whom or which he or she has become enamored. Horror fiction--admittedly not everyone’s cuppa blood--is no different (okay, maybe it’s a little different): it, too, appeals to different fans, each for reasons of his or her own. Of course, in general, book reviews, the flyleaves of novels, and movie trailers suggest what many, maybe even most, readers of a particular type of fiction enjoy, but, right here, right now, I’m talking more specifically--one might say, even more eccentrically. In other words, I’m talking what I happen to like, without assuming (assuming makes an “ass” of “u” and “me”) that you also like the same. It’s entirely possible that you will; on the other hand, it’s entirely likely that you won’t.

Anyway, this is what I happen to like in horror fiction:

Small-town settings in which I get to know the townspeople, both the good, the bad, and the ugly. For this reason alone, I’m a sucker for most of Stephen King’s novels. Most of them, from 'Salem's Lot to Under the Dome, are set in small towns that are peopled by the good, the bad, and the ugly. Part of the appeal here, granted, is the sense of community that such settings entail.

Isolated settings, such as caves, desert wastelands, islands, mountaintops, space, swamps, where characters are cut off from civilization and culture and must survive and thrive or die on their own, without assistance, by their wits and other personal resources. Many are the examples of such novels and screenplays, but Alien, The Shining, The Descent, Desperation, and The Island of Dr. Moreau, are some of the ones that come readily to mind.

Total institutions as settings. Camps, hospitals, military installations, nursing homes, prisons, resorts, spaceships, and other worlds unto themselves are examples of such settings, and Sleepaway Camp, Coma, The Green Mile, and Aliens are some of the novels or films that take place in such settings.

Anecdotal scenes--in other words, short scenes that showcase a character--usually, an unusual, even eccentric, character. Both Dean Koontz and the dynamic duo, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, excel at this, so I keep reading their series (although Koontz’s canine companions frequently--indeed, almost always--annoy, as does his relentless optimism).

Atmosphere, mood, and tone. Here, King is king, but so is Bentley Little. In the use of description to terrorize and horrify, both are masters of the craft.

A bit of erotica (okay, okay, sex--are you satisfied?), often of the unusual variety. Sex sells, and, yes, sex whets my reader’s appetite. Bentley Little is the go-to guy for this spicy ingredient, although Koontz has done a bit of seasoning with this spice, too, in such novels as Lightning and Demon Seed (and, some say, Hung).

Believable characters. Stephen King, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, and Dan Simmons are great at creating characters that stick to readers’ ribs.

Innovation. Bram Stoker demonstrates it, especially in his short story “Dracula’s Guest,” as does H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Shirley Jackson, and a host of other, mostly classical, horror novelists and short story writers. For an example, check out my post on Stoker’s story, which is a real stoker, to be sure. Stephen King shows innovation, too, in ‘Salem’s Lot, The Shining, It, and other novels. One might even argue that Dean Koontz’s something-for-everyone, cross-genre writing is innovative; he seems to have been one of the first, if not the first, to pen such tales.

Technique. Check out Frank Peretti’s use of maps and his allusions to the senses in Monster; my post on this very topic is worth a look, if I do say so myself, which, of course, I do. Opening chapters that accomplish a multitude of narrative purposes (not usually all at once, but successively) are attractive, too, and Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child are as good as anyone, and better than many, at this art.

A connective universe--a mythos, if you will, such as both H. P. Lovecraft and Stephen King, and, to a lesser extent, Dean Koontz, Bentley Little, and even Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child have created through the use of recurring settings, characters, themes, and other elements of fiction.

A lack of pretentiousness. Dean Koontz has it, as do Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, Bentley Little, and (to some extent, although he has become condescending and self-indulgent of late, Stephen King); unfortunately, both Dan Simmons and Robert McCammon have become too self-important in their later works, Simmons almost to the point of becoming unreadable. Come on, people, you’re writing about monsters--you should be humble.

Longevity. Writers who have been around for a while usually get better, Stephen King, Dan Simmons, and Robert McCammon excepted.

Pacing. Neither too fast nor too slow. Dean Koontz is good, maybe the best, here, of contemporary horror writers.


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