There's something to be said in regards to stock plots. They're adaptable and comfortable, great tools to let the audience know once the first frame enters the picture what transaction will take place without needing a word. It is also useful in developing characters, even if such development lacks the subtlety one desires (which, we must remind ourselves, is huge YMMV territory).
This, however, lends itself to one of the snarliest beasties in the TV Tropes oeuvre: Fridge Logic. Really, this can be applied to any instant of You Fail Logic Forever, but first things first. Fridge Logic refers to that situation where the show's over (though it needn't be a show) and you're staring at the delightfully enticing piece of pie left over from a party you threw last week. You mull over whether you should eat it now when it just now hits you: something in the show doesn't make sense! Why didn't I notice it then?
Ideally Fridge Logic occurs because the film is that engaging - and it can be difficult explaining it any other way. Of course people also don't always follow the same train of thought with any given show, whether they enjoyed it or loathed it, so some miss out on the Fridge Logic altogether. Either case, the key point with it is that the audience doesn't pick up on it until after the show's over and they're preoccupied with other concerns.
A crucial concept to consider when dealing with Fridge Logic is the MST3K Mantra: "We really should just relax." Sometimes it just isn't worth getting too wrapped up in; we can let a few inconsistencies, logic issues and similar topics slide if they are minor enough to be essentially a non-factor. This doesn't override the issues that are too major to be ignored, of course, but for the small stuff, we're capable of glossing over them. Remember Ed Wood's admonition: "Have you ever heard of the suspension of disbelief?"
Also, to continue the above point, people go through different thought processes and may find certain issues too problematic to ignore whereas others find no problem in ignoring it. Everyone's different; they are irritated by different things. People find Wolverine interesting and capable of winning any fight (which helps explain Wolverine Publicity, if not his decidedly non-Wolverine nature in any conceivable fashion) while others find him too annoying and too powerful (as an example, ask some comic fans that read his fight with Lobo in the Amalgam Universe how they feel about it).
In any event, there are numerous reasons people invoke Fridge Logic, as is the case with any similar logic tropes. Didn't Do The Research can occur on a small enough scale that for the most part the producers know what they're doing, save for one minor incident (mitosis doesn't work that way!). Producers maybe wanted to invoke the Rule of Cool and find Fridge Logic an acceptable risk (Batman rides a shark, it doesn't need an excuse - mileage may vary). As an extension of Didn't Do The Research, perhaps the issue wasn't the author's strong suit and he just had to bite the bullet on this one. Of course, there is also the lapse in judgment excuse.
Whatever the reason, we should expect it to happen every so often. No one's perfect and we may anticipate the occasional slip into Fridge Logic territory because, hey, we're human. When you face Fridge Logic in a work, as a member of the audience, you should ask yourself: how important was it to the plot, to a character, or to another major portion of the work? Could you live with the misstep in logic? Would an explanation really make it any better at the risk of ruining the message, atmosphere or other aspect? Did you enjoy it regardless of the situation and can you accept Rule of Cool/Awesome as an explanation?
For the writer: again, how important is the issue for the work? Would it require an explanation to get over that obstacle successful? This may take some work but in the end would the work benefit from it? How can you avoid it in the future if this is the case? Sometimes letting Fridge Logic happen isn't bad; a work won't die because of it. It may even be fun to watch because of said Fridge Logic, though don't expect that to happen.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Amusing Alien
If there are any tropes that run the risk of causing Unfortunate Implications, this is among their ranks.
The Amusing Alien is exactly as the tin describes it. A character that fits this trope is a supernatural, otherworldly or otherwise uncommon creature designed specifically to amuse the audience in some fashion. Of course the term 'alien' need not be literal, in the sense that they are, in fact, from another world/planet. They are only required to be a creature that isn't common to the universe - if it is, they become Funny Foreigner instead.
You need to be careful when portraying an alien creature as the source of comedy, whether among the 'high' or 'low-brow' comedy. All that matters in satisfying the first half of the moniker is that the intention; they don't actually have to succeed, so long as the audience knows they were meant to be funny. As such, they can certainly be the source of unwanted aggravation, crossing the line into Scrappy territory if all goes wrong. It's a reminder that comedy is fickle and while the audience might know what you're attempting, they may hate you for it.
This is true whether or not the Amusing Alien is even a sensitive portrayal. A common distinction between the Amusing Alien and the Funny Foreigner is that we usually see the latter when we write stories using Earth as the setting. This is far from the only situation, as elves can be Funny Foreigners if the setting uses them plentifully, but nevertheless, it isn't unwarranted to make that distinction at times. In either case, Funny Foreigners occasionally overlap with stereotypes, causing them to be nearly (if not outright) prejudicial Scrappies if handled with intense disregard. Amusing Aliens aren't exempt from this practice, as many criticisms of Jar Jar Binks may attest.
As such, please proceed with caution when using the Amusing Alien in any setting, whether it be sci-fi or fantasy (as they tend to be). An Alien's failure and descent into Scrappy-hood need not be due to any insensitive portrayal, of course; horribly written comedy is enough on its own. Either case, you don't want value dissonance or mishandled comedy, even unintended, to ruin a work. Amusing Aliens do provide the benefit of working around most Unfortunate Implications revolving around Earth customs and expectations, but as mentioned, that is by no means true for everything.
The Amusing Alien is exactly as the tin describes it. A character that fits this trope is a supernatural, otherworldly or otherwise uncommon creature designed specifically to amuse the audience in some fashion. Of course the term 'alien' need not be literal, in the sense that they are, in fact, from another world/planet. They are only required to be a creature that isn't common to the universe - if it is, they become Funny Foreigner instead.
You need to be careful when portraying an alien creature as the source of comedy, whether among the 'high' or 'low-brow' comedy. All that matters in satisfying the first half of the moniker is that the intention; they don't actually have to succeed, so long as the audience knows they were meant to be funny. As such, they can certainly be the source of unwanted aggravation, crossing the line into Scrappy territory if all goes wrong. It's a reminder that comedy is fickle and while the audience might know what you're attempting, they may hate you for it.
This is true whether or not the Amusing Alien is even a sensitive portrayal. A common distinction between the Amusing Alien and the Funny Foreigner is that we usually see the latter when we write stories using Earth as the setting. This is far from the only situation, as elves can be Funny Foreigners if the setting uses them plentifully, but nevertheless, it isn't unwarranted to make that distinction at times. In either case, Funny Foreigners occasionally overlap with stereotypes, causing them to be nearly (if not outright) prejudicial Scrappies if handled with intense disregard. Amusing Aliens aren't exempt from this practice, as many criticisms of Jar Jar Binks may attest.
As such, please proceed with caution when using the Amusing Alien in any setting, whether it be sci-fi or fantasy (as they tend to be). An Alien's failure and descent into Scrappy-hood need not be due to any insensitive portrayal, of course; horribly written comedy is enough on its own. Either case, you don't want value dissonance or mishandled comedy, even unintended, to ruin a work. Amusing Aliens do provide the benefit of working around most Unfortunate Implications revolving around Earth customs and expectations, but as mentioned, that is by no means true for everything.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Guide Dang It
Imagine you're playing an RPG - it doesn't matter what the plot requires you to do. Maybe you're facing against a swarm of dire badger-pires. In a good RPG, defeating said badger-pires would appropriately difficult and not require you to read the minds of the develops.
In a bad RPG, they require you to know the fifteen spell under an element that you never knew existed because it never even mentioned it.
Welcome to the world of Guide Dang It, a trope so abused it feels like someone should've caught on by now. Admittedly this is an easy trope to misuse (as if there's any other reason for it to occur) and as games undergo development, there's always the chance mistakes happen. Still, this explains its ubiquitous nature in digital (and even non-digital) entertainment.
Now, this is so predominantly game-oriented that I felt this trope important to demonstrate a key aspect of trope use. Any trope, no matter how strong its predilections, may find a niche in writing. This trope is useful for showing how characters react and solve issues where they know the situation wasn't being fair, before it becomes crucial to the plot (which should be the biggest reason you try this). Obviously it must be adapted to the particular situation; not all environments possess video games, for example. However, most societies use some form of diversionary entertainment and some games simply don't play by their own rules.
It also provides flavor to the world, showing what a world's citizens do for fun. It also obviously shows what happens when a world's entertainment goes foul and cheats to win. This, again, gives characters an opportunity to bust their chops and see how they pull victory when the stakes are stacked against them.
In a bad RPG, they require you to know the fifteen spell under an element that you never knew existed because it never even mentioned it.
Welcome to the world of Guide Dang It, a trope so abused it feels like someone should've caught on by now. Admittedly this is an easy trope to misuse (as if there's any other reason for it to occur) and as games undergo development, there's always the chance mistakes happen. Still, this explains its ubiquitous nature in digital (and even non-digital) entertainment.
Now, this is so predominantly game-oriented that I felt this trope important to demonstrate a key aspect of trope use. Any trope, no matter how strong its predilections, may find a niche in writing. This trope is useful for showing how characters react and solve issues where they know the situation wasn't being fair, before it becomes crucial to the plot (which should be the biggest reason you try this). Obviously it must be adapted to the particular situation; not all environments possess video games, for example. However, most societies use some form of diversionary entertainment and some games simply don't play by their own rules.
It also provides flavor to the world, showing what a world's citizens do for fun. It also obviously shows what happens when a world's entertainment goes foul and cheats to win. This, again, gives characters an opportunity to bust their chops and see how they pull victory when the stakes are stacked against them.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Intrepid Merchant
One of the most common methods of establish a sense of realism in a world, no matter how exotic, is to provide characters jobs that we recognize. They make take a form we recognize, which is largely dependent on the world's atmosphere and the writer's intent (this includes any artistic liberties and suspension of disbelief). For example, we may see an astronaut land on the Moon in 1967 with something vaguely resembling the Apollo 11 capsule. After all, it worked marvelously for the real world.
On the other hand, we may see exotic jobs, ranging from magical architects to symbiotic planar aquarium cleaners (however you wish to interpret that)or jobs that we simply don't see performed a certain way anymore if we even see them (smiths, scribes, etc). We may also see jobs performed in ways that Fridge Logic - more on this later perhaps - causes readers to scratch their heads. This brings us to the Intrepid Merchant.
Merchants are, of course, a common sight - we know them today as purveyors of computers, food, television and who knows what else. Intrepid Merchants are a more adventurous breed, willing to put themselves in harm's way to get and sell just about anything (or, in some case, literally anything). This is common for video game entertainment, where you might see a merchant set up shop just when you need him - and you will need him, because who else is around?
This may pose problems, of course. Fridge Logic could dictate that there's no reason for him to set up shop here, especially if it's such hallowed ground that outsiders are forbidden from entering, less they 'taint' its sacredness or whatnot, or a land so distant and difficult to reach that no one's going to be there except when the Plot Coupon demands it. Are we to believe he is psychic, or perhaps simply tailing the heroes?
It also poses a problem if the area is infested with monsters. If the heroes needed several elixir, donkeys, a compass, enough food and water to last for three days and nights and the fighting prowess of nineteen knights and a squire to get up here, what did the merchant do? Club monsters with tins of Altoids?
When creating an Intrepid Merchant, here are a few tips. Giving him a name and complicated backstory won't be important if his sole role is to sell one item and disappear into the night. Conservation of Details won't be happy if you spent insidiously long amounts of time on him. Any details you spend on him are better spent on establishing what kind of merchants go out here during the world-building stage, thus explaining why he's able to make this kind of journey. You won't need to know who he is so much as what culture he's from and the basic logic behind his sheer existence here (like if he's from the king's entourage, if he's making a pilgrimage, etc.).
You can possibly make him a recurring character, offering a glimpse into a culture living in his world. This may be tricky as if you intend on him meeting the cast regularly, the audience will expect a bit more from his personality and motivation, hence creating a more developed history. One possible way to work around this is instead of one character, you have one culture whose sole existence is predicated by its people devoting their lives to mercantilism. This borders upon the destruction of suspension of disbelief so be prepared to elaborate a tiny bit, at least, on their culture and adding in something to keep it from seeming like a culture of mercantile robots.
On the other hand, we may see exotic jobs, ranging from magical architects to symbiotic planar aquarium cleaners (however you wish to interpret that)or jobs that we simply don't see performed a certain way anymore if we even see them (smiths, scribes, etc). We may also see jobs performed in ways that Fridge Logic - more on this later perhaps - causes readers to scratch their heads. This brings us to the Intrepid Merchant.
Merchants are, of course, a common sight - we know them today as purveyors of computers, food, television and who knows what else. Intrepid Merchants are a more adventurous breed, willing to put themselves in harm's way to get and sell just about anything (or, in some case, literally anything). This is common for video game entertainment, where you might see a merchant set up shop just when you need him - and you will need him, because who else is around?
This may pose problems, of course. Fridge Logic could dictate that there's no reason for him to set up shop here, especially if it's such hallowed ground that outsiders are forbidden from entering, less they 'taint' its sacredness or whatnot, or a land so distant and difficult to reach that no one's going to be there except when the Plot Coupon demands it. Are we to believe he is psychic, or perhaps simply tailing the heroes?
It also poses a problem if the area is infested with monsters. If the heroes needed several elixir, donkeys, a compass, enough food and water to last for three days and nights and the fighting prowess of nineteen knights and a squire to get up here, what did the merchant do? Club monsters with tins of Altoids?
When creating an Intrepid Merchant, here are a few tips. Giving him a name and complicated backstory won't be important if his sole role is to sell one item and disappear into the night. Conservation of Details won't be happy if you spent insidiously long amounts of time on him. Any details you spend on him are better spent on establishing what kind of merchants go out here during the world-building stage, thus explaining why he's able to make this kind of journey. You won't need to know who he is so much as what culture he's from and the basic logic behind his sheer existence here (like if he's from the king's entourage, if he's making a pilgrimage, etc.).
You can possibly make him a recurring character, offering a glimpse into a culture living in his world. This may be tricky as if you intend on him meeting the cast regularly, the audience will expect a bit more from his personality and motivation, hence creating a more developed history. One possible way to work around this is instead of one character, you have one culture whose sole existence is predicated by its people devoting their lives to mercantilism. This borders upon the destruction of suspension of disbelief so be prepared to elaborate a tiny bit, at least, on their culture and adding in something to keep it from seeming like a culture of mercantile robots.
Hello and Welcome
Hello and welcome to Writer's Block, where I will periodically write about the process of writing. Never again will I purposefully use the word 'write' so many times but it gets the gist across.
So, who am I? Well, I am Brunicus and I am a writer. I have been writing longer than I remember, but that isn't exactly difficult given my ADHD loves making me forget. Regardless, my penchant is for comedy and I sporadically take in sci-fi and fantasy, whichever strikes my fancy. I'm not as avid a reader as some writers may be, to my detriment I'm sure, but alas.
All right, so what shall I do here? I will periodically write about a trope, as pulled from TV Tropes. Each time I do I will give my thoughts and suggestions as to how it, if by no means in a comprehensive way. They are but examples and there are countless way to both use and abuse any trope within the site's text-addled pages. Feel free to purview this site for your own personal tastes.
So, who am I? Well, I am Brunicus and I am a writer. I have been writing longer than I remember, but that isn't exactly difficult given my ADHD loves making me forget. Regardless, my penchant is for comedy and I sporadically take in sci-fi and fantasy, whichever strikes my fancy. I'm not as avid a reader as some writers may be, to my detriment I'm sure, but alas.
All right, so what shall I do here? I will periodically write about a trope, as pulled from TV Tropes. Each time I do I will give my thoughts and suggestions as to how it, if by no means in a comprehensive way. They are but examples and there are countless way to both use and abuse any trope within the site's text-addled pages. Feel free to purview this site for your own personal tastes.
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