Dear Max Gladstone: Blood is Thicker
Than Water
By Madison Dong
In eight days, I will have graduated
from high school. This weird, resounding statement has led to a lot of
self-reflection. What are my most memorable moments from these years? My
regrets? My aspirations for the future? After digging through the memory bank
of all twelve years of my high school career, I can definitely conclude that my
biggest takeaway from this experience is the importance of other people.
At school, especially at a residential one, my friends
are a second family. The bonds we share form a beautiful network of support,
laughter, naps, and food. We know each other almost better than we know
ourselves, and rejoice in each other’s failures and successes as if they were
our own.
So how does this relate to my thoughts on narratives?
In my opinion, the narratives that resonate for me are the
ones in which the characters are so relatable and interesting that they feel
real, almost like my “second family.” I can connect with and relate to them, but
also be shocked by their actions; they can make me laugh, but also cry. The
closer I feel with the characters, the more invested I am in the story, and the
more emotional and gripping it can become.
Thus, the stories that resonate with me are ones that have
relatable, interesting characters who are developed so well that I wouldn’t be
surprised if I met them in real life. The specific parts of a story that resonate--the parts that have me reading into
four in the morning, the parts that have me reeling for days afterwards--are
the moments in which I am able to witness the major success and failures of the
characters.
Stories from my childhood with deep character development
still stick with me. I still rewatch all of Avatar: The Last
Airbender once in a while because my mind continually wanders back to
how beautifully the writers showed the maturation of Prince Zuko. Sure, it was
a kid’s show, but the way that every character in the series had so much depth
and development, as well as their own moments to shine and fall, really, truly
resonated with me.
I love SF, but the distant style of “hard SF” such as “Fondly Fahrenheit” by Alfred Beester just doesn’t do it for me. I’m not
led to care about the characters, so I don’t feel very impacted by the events
that go down. However, stories such as “Hungry Daughters of
Starving Daughters” by Alyssa Wong stick with me for a long time. The protagonist, Jen, has
such an interesting voice that is both sassy and relatable. The reader is shown
her complex romantic problems. We get to witness Jen’s temptation to consume
her friend Aiko, as well as Jen’s relationship with her parents and how they’ve
impacted her perspectives on life. So at the very end, when Jen is in despair,
the audience can also feel impacted, and experience that emotion as if it were
their own. It sticks.
To reiterate: overall, for me, the best narratives have the
best characters. They paint the protagonists and antagonists as people or
things that have complex pasts, thoughts, and desires, and they string me along
for the emotional rollercoaster. They draw me in to empathize and invest myself
in the story.
And about graduation? Well, high school has been great. I’ve
come to feel very intensely for and to love the people that I’ve met, and that
has carried over into the world of storytelling as well. After all of this--all
the classes and late nights and adventures--I can say that in all journeys,
real or imaginary, the people you meet along the way are the greatest part.
Dear Madison,
ReplyDeleteCharacters that compel readers to care are so crucial to a story's success, I know very few writers who don't worry about how their characters are received, at least once in a while. As a corollary to your narrative kink of wanting characters who feel like family, what about characters that form their own families beyond blood? I know that's a trope I love and one I return to a lot in my own work: found or created families of people brought together by circumstance may be my favorite kinds of families, because they're about choice and support entirely, not just the tyranny of blood and social expectations.
Best,
TT