Monthly Archives: May 2016

Adam and Ronan

Raven Cycle spoilers ahead, but only for the Ronan/Adam subplot.

Maggie Stiefvater is rapidly climbing my list of favorite authors, and the conclusion of the Raven Cycle only solidified that. I was extremely nervous but completely satisfied; in fact I think The Raven King is my favorite in the series. I don’t want to ruin anything for those who haven’t read it yet, so for those who haven’t, I’ll only say that it’s a modern quest with beautifully broken protagonists, and one of the best fantasy series I’ve ever read. The first book is Raven Boys. Go get it.

There is a lot to praise, but there was one small aspect that stood out to me. In the end of the second book, The Dream Thieves, we find out that one protagonist, Ronan, is gay. We also learn he is in love with another protagonist, Adam. Up to this point, we’ve believed Adam is straight. That is, he briefly dated one of the female characters, and of the many things torturing him, doubts about his sexuality isn’t on the list. Maggie Stiefvater likes torturing her characters, so I was sure this wasn’t going to end well.

And yet, Adam realizes he wants to be with Ronan. This realization doesn’t come with a lot of anguish over how this shreds up his whole concept of who he is. Nobody dissects whether Adam is gay or bi or just gay for Ronan. He just falls in love with Ronan. The central issue isn’t their sexuality, but the fact that both are very damaged human beings, and there’s this question of whether they will help each other heal, or break each other further.

It’s not a coming out story. It’s just a love story.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Coming out  love stories are awesome. I love them. But I do get frustrated at the single story effect on gay romances. They’re always sad and anguished and full of this questioning of your fundamental identity. Many queer people have one story in their life that is like that, but some don’t, and even among those who do, it’s rarely the only love story they will live. Sometimes we just have regular romances, like straight people.

For once, I don’t really have a grand point to make. I’m just so pleased to see a gay romance that broke the mold, and also Ronan and Adam are fucking perfect.

Watching Dogma With a Nun

A few weeks ago, I wrote a review of the movie Dogma, an old favorite of mine. At the end of it, I promised to write something about my journey figuring out how to follow advice from a certain character; advice to try having ideas, instead of beliefs, because an idea you can always change if you need to. I also hinted that it would have something to do with my experience watching this with my friend RJ, who is in the process of becoming an Episcopalian nun. This post ended up being harder to write than I expected, because the conversation RJ and I had about the movie quickly became very personal.

What RJ and I ended up talking about (other than squeeing over all our favorite bits) was theodicy, and the question of how atheism answers the meaning of life. These, in my opinion, are two of the most difficult questions in all of religion, because they can’t escape being incredibly personal. I can put my meaning of life in the most beautiful prose, and I have, and I can’t make that feel meaningful to someone else. In turn, I can hear explanations for evil that I can intellectually acknowledge are at least internally consistent, but I can’t find any of them satisfying. One of the things I appreciated about the conversation with RJ was how she admitted that she’s still figuring things out, and that the answers she has work for her, but she doesn’t expect them to convince anyone else.

I’ve been involved in a number of discussions about faith, evidence and belief, and it seems the one point that is consistently overlooked, by religious and non-religious people alike, is the influence of community. Not just the influence of community on what we believe, but on what we don’t want to change our minds about. I remember vividly from my Christian days how much that affected me. There was fear of ostracism, but even more than that, there was fear that if I stopped believing, I wouldn’t know who I was anymore. From birth, I had been raised to make religion an integral part of my identity, and how I saw the world. It was difficult to leave religion, even when it completely failed to make sense to me, because it would mean leaving behind my entire sense of what the world was and where I fit into it.

When I ventured out, in search of a new worldview, I found myself both drawn to and afraid of communities that were similarly agreement-centric. I was used to relating to people by believing the same things they did, and defining myself that way as well. At the same time, I was evolving very rapidly, and every time I bonded with someone over shared ideas, I felt like I was glimpsing a future where I was rejected for someday having a new idea. I’ve now started to realize certain things (like people being quick to insult those who disagree with them, or trying to bond with me over ideas instead of actions) as anxiety triggers.

After a few years of drifting through social circles and philosophies, I met RJ. One of the things I noticed early on was that she talked about other people she liked by listing their faults, not as insults, but as endearing quirks. This made me finally relax around someone. Perhaps without realizing it, she was saying, “be different from me, be irritating, show me your worst side, and I’ll still like you.” I try to be open with people as much as possible, but that still comes with a certain degree of anxiety most of the time. RJ is one of the few people who I can be as open as I want to be without any anxiety.

The other reason I had trouble writing this post is that I felt it would in some way become an advice post. I didn’t think I could tell about my journey away from beliefs and towards ideas without giving some pointers to people on that same journey. So here’s the only thing I know; find people who you know will care for you even if you change your mind. It takes a while, but it’s worth it.

Types of Character Traits

Here’s my portion of the project my sister and I did a long time ago. I hope you enjoyed this revisitation, and I’ll have actual new content up soon. Thanks, as always, for reading!

The Brunette's Blog

This blog was inspired by two things. First is Ginny’s concept of flashy vs finish-line characters (flashy meaning characters you like because they are fun to watch, finish meaning characters you like because you want them to succeed). Second is this podcast by Writing Excuses, where Brandon Sanderson explains his three “sliders” for characterization; sympathy, proactivity and competence. I was listening to the podcast while thinking about Ginny’s system, and realized that if I split sympathy into two new traits, niceness and relatability, I ended up with four categories that explained why a particular character might have more flash, or more finish-line quality, than another.

First, there’s niceness. Characters who are nice do the things that we think people should do. They make the moral choices we all like to think we would make. It tends to make a character more of a finish-line character, because when people do the…

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Character likeability: flash vs. finish-line

I hate that I’ve gone this long without posting anything, but I’ve been really sick. So I’m reblogging something my sister and I worked on a long time ago, over on The Brunette’s Blog. This is my sister’s portion, and I’ll post my follow-up tomorrow. Hope you guys enjoy!

The Brunette's Blog

For writers, one of the most important things about a character is whether your readers like them. It is also notoriously difficult to manage. Readers will love a character that was intended to be a one-off cameo or a villain, and complain that the main character is boring or annoying. Sometimes character responses can be so different from the writer’s intentions that they change the whole course of a series: a minor character will become major, a villain will develop a redemption arc (sometimes, perversely, changing the character such that readers don’t love them as much.)
There are a lot of ways to think about character likeability, but in general I find myself using a simple two-axis system. One axis is how much you want the character to succeed, and the other is how fun they are to watch. These factors are pretty independent of each other, except at the…

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