Rolling Book Report: to p.203, and out

[tealin]

Maia granted an audience to the Count Bazhevel and Osmin Stano Bazhevin on a cold, bleak afternoon when the clouds were nearly the same colour as Maia's skin. Because the Count Bazhevel had annoyed him with his scheming, Maia chose to receive him in the Untheileian, even though Osmin Bazhevin's status as the dead archduke's fiancée would have permitted him to use the Michen'theileian or even the receiving room of the Alcethemeret. But he hoped dourly that the frigid expanse of the Untheileian would encourage the Count Bazhevel to be brief.

oh my god I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't CARE I DON'T CARE I DON'T CARE

And that's the exact spot where I gave up.


On reflection, this book is a sort of perfect cocktail of things that put me off literature:

• an abundance of complex Fantasy names and made-up words
• an intricate created world without strategic exposition that ties it to the central narrative thread
• lack of a central narrative thread??
• characters that are treated more like chess pieces than people
• the relationships and machinations of the upper classes (I'm sorry, Austen fans, but I cannot summon any interest in the love lives of people with no real problems, however wittily they are written.)

It made me think back on books I have liked, and why. I have always claimed not to like Fantasy, despite most of my favourite books being Fantasy, but those I like tend to have at least one foot in reality and focus primarily on characters.
Watership Down - Lots of made-up words,* but solidly grounded in the real world, with real life-or-death problems. The vast majority of its strongly-developed characters are named after real things, and are therefore easy to keep track of.
Redwall - Again solidly 'real'; minor metaphysical elements but mostly just talking animals in a vaguely pre-gunpowder Britain. Strong characters, personalities clearly portrayed in dialogue. As the series veered more towards more Magickal Fantasy, I lost interest.
Harry Potter - An intricate fantasy world full of magic, but with one foot in our reality, providing a starting place. Lots of loosely interrelated characters, but drawn with Dickensian adherence to type, and very distinctive names. As the series lost interest in its juxtaposition with the real world, and the personalities of the characters, I lost interest in it.
Discworld - The whole point of it is sending up Fantasy clichés, so it's heavy on the magic and the made-up names, but (after the first few books) it uses Fantasy to satirize reality, so in that regard it's very accessible. Strong characters, increasingly character-driven stories, well-organised storytelling, sense of humour, wise observations, great dialogue.
*I like to think the purpose of teaching the reader the basics of Lapin vocabulary was ultimately to drop the killer line 'Silflay hraka, u embleer rah' in the final showdown, and have people inwardly cheer.

Brian Jacques (Redwall) was an actor and storyteller, which is probably where he got his strong sense of character from, and the ability to write dialogue. I can see the influence of radio comedy on Terry Pratchett (Discworld), which, combined with his keen observation, makes for snappy communication. Ages ago one of my friends observed that J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter) writes like a screenplay, and this may be why reluctant readers find her books so accessible. I don't know enough about Richard Adams (Watership Down) to ascertain where his writing style comes from, but he's of an age that would have grown up with Victorian and Edwardian novels, which tend to have the common touch when it comes to plot and characters.

Back when I still cared, I devised an outline for how I would 'fix' this book (by which I mean, make it the sort of novel I would be happy to read). It doesn't change the story, necessarily – I wanted to read to the end to make sure I wasn't undermining what needed to happen, eventually – but it does change how it's presented, hopefully in a way to maximise accessibility and emotional engagement.

CAST
Focus on a handful of main characters, who we can keep straight and understand as people.

• M: 18, male; insecure, traumatised, but resourceful and determined to be a force for good; all the baggage inherent in dropping from a loving single-mother family to an abusive foster care situation, plus mixed-race baggage on top of that; invested in changing an entrenched and unfair system.
• S: mid-40s, male; abusive foster father; feels victimised by the Powers That Be and takes that out on his charge who represents them; invested in playing the system for personal gain.
• C: older, male; chief personal assistant to M when he takes the throne, and top of the staff hierarchy; know-it-all, accustomed to de facto running things; heavily invested in things remaining how they are.
• G: male, indefinite middle-age; ambassador from The Other Race; solidly experienced and competent, remarkably grounded, despite living in a relatively hostile milieu.
• A*: male, c.30; Bodyguard 1, the heavy; some sort of martial arts expert, with the (over)confidence that comes with that.
• B: male, c.27; Bodyguard 2, the nerd; PhD in magical defence, with the anxiety that comes with knowing just how much he doesn't know.
• R: female, late 20s; the dowager empress who still holds social power, if not political, and is not afraid to use it.
• T: male, 60s; head of troublesome noble family, unofficial representative of all the troublesome noble families
• O: female, mid-30s, M's mother, seen only in short but emotionally potent flashbacks; experienced and observant enough to be cynical, but instead wise and compassionate. A well of warmth in a cold world. Of The Other Race, but tries to raise M in The Empire's ways because internalised racism, erasing own heritage.

Other characters are allowed, but they have to go to the back of the queue. As far as is feasible, important narrative roles are given to these ones so we can bloody keep them straight. And when they speak you can tell who is speaking by how they speak, omg.
*These and the following are new initials, because there is only ONE C. CHARACTER ALLOWED

WORLD
Only as much explicit exposition as is necessary to understand the scene. Implicit exposition gradually as the narrative requires.

The Empire: An extremely long continuity of civilisation, giving rise to a very rigid social structure and heavily formalised etiquette, especially in court. Has been the dominant power in the region for thousands of years, considers itself the centre of the universe. Advances in travel and technology over the last 100 years have brought the rest of the world uncomfortably close, and The Empire now finds itself regarded, from the outside, as an obsolete backwater, with other world powers licking their chops at its colonial potential. In defence, The Empire clings ever more fiercely to its traditions and identity; this creates tension with other internal forces pushing for adopting new tech, opening up to trade, maybe even innovating themselves. Some powerful people think change is happening too fast (or are upset it's happening at all), others that it's not happening fast enough and there needs to be a shake-up or else they'll get steamrollered.

The Vassal State: Though legally autonomous, Vassalia has long been under the Empire's hegemony. Its indigenous people look very different from those of The Empire, and though there has been migration and interbreeding between the two, Vassalians are regarded as inherently inferior. Always currying favour so as to maintain its delicate balance of independence and good favour with its richer, more powerful neighbour. Empirians are known for being intellectual and strategic, but cold; Vassalians, empathetic but disorganised.

The Province: Some boring flat backcountry on the far reaches of the Empire. Long ago colonised to provide some important but boring crop to the big cities where the real action is. A great place to exile people.

Era: Vaguely 1920s. Airships, steamships, telegraphs, electricity, but no television, movies, radio, internet, or computers. The Empire still favours the old ways, but the rich and ambitious are early adopters. For the sake of security and outward show, the Royal Family has an airship, despite being rigidly traditional in other ways.

PLOT
Open in M's bedroom, at night. He's a light sleeper and wakes to the soft sounds of someone trying to get in. Immediately darts into the fortified box he's made for himself under the bed, thinking this is his foster father coming in from a night out to give him a whuppin'. Assailant comes in and finds the bed empty; in the process of investigating under it, the actual S comes in. Fight ensues (because only S is allowed to whup M!) in which assailant is incapacitated or killed, revealed to be armed and out to kill M. Confusion and exasperation until messenger arrives in great haste the following morning, bearing news of Royal Family's airship crash. M now Emperor.

Starting this way accomplishes a few things quite tidily:

• M's resourcefulness and his relationship with S; he's habitually abused but is resourceful enough to have built some defences. His quick reflexes and 'spidey sense' will serve him well when Emperor of a restive and threatened Empire.
• We see how vulnerable M is (instant sympathy! don't even need to make him loveable first!) and get a hint of the forces at play at the top of The Empire, if an assassin has come to undo M even before the royal messenger can get there.
• Instantly makes the airship crash suspicious, sets up that mystery as a compelling narrative thrust.

M and S are whisked away to Royal Court. M rather overwhelmed by sudden change in status, being toadied to instead of having to do the toadying. Not sure of his footing. Has only dim recollection of being told the odd thing about how things go at Court, conflates facts and fairy tales, relies heavily on guidance of C, who is more than happy to take the reins. S removed from scene temporarily but never far from M's mind, which has grown around the shape of S and is always anticipating his behaviour. Meet A and B, very different personalities but welcome support, especially once R and T force themselves into the scene.

Things can play out roughly the same, but structured around the central threads:
1. Mystery of the Airship Crash
2. Fish-out-of-water in a highly formal society
3. Heart vs Mind, and M wedding the two
4. Imperialism and racism
5. M's journey from victim to enlightened empowerment

Everything that happens has to tie back to these in some way, and presentation thereof should be engineered to advance that thread, which is braided with the other threads to create a cohesive narrative with M's character arc holding it together.

I could go into more detail, and project how my version would play out based on the foundation I laid, but UGH I am so tired of thinking about this – now I've got it out I can finally get back to what I should be doing, rewriting the Gospels grinding out the last batch of colour keys on the never-ending one-person book assembly line ...