Q&A: Firearms Training

While practicing shooting, what are the most common mistakes that could happen? I mean, like hurting your shoulder with a shotgun when you fire and that kind of thing.

It’s not going to be that, probably. Shotguns are fairly low power, so the recoil is surprisingly light.

I’m actually going to step back and make a blanket statement: while you’re practicing shooting, injuries of any kind are fairly rare. Firearms are quite dangerous if handled poorly, but mishandling is more likely to get you thrown off a well managed range before you have the chance to injure someone.

With that said, if you’re renting your firearm, the most common issue (although it’s not really a mistake) will be non-critical mechanical failures.

Rentals see a lot of use, and in some cases they will start to suffer failures. This will usually manifest as issues like failure to feed, though the exact malfunctions will vary with the individual gun. “Limp wristing”a firearm can also cause failure to feed situations. This occurs when the user fails to properly brace the firearm against recoil, and allows it to recoil too far.

In rare cases, these issues can extend to catastrophic mechanical failures, but most reputable ranges would remove guns from use long before that becomes an issue. However, the occasional idiot will try to load their own ammo into a rental, with similar results. This is why most ranges that rent will require you to also buy the ammunition you intend to use, or will roll the ammunition costs in with the rental fees.

Many common mistakes arise from people who fail to follow the basic gun safety rules. Most of the time, these don’t result in actual accidents.

Another common mistake for shooters is proper finger placement on the trigger. This can result in the gun pulling to one side or the other. This affects accuracy, but won’t result in any injuries in a controlled environment.

I’m not going to harp on people with poor stance. I know this is a somewhat popular choice, but there is a truth to stance with firearms: If it works for you, and you can get solid placement, that is far more important than making sure your stance is textbook. In a live situation, shot placement is king, no one cares if you’re in a perfect Weaver, just if you lived through the night.

In fact, the only, “injury,” I’d associate with practicing on the range is sore thumbs from packing magazines. This is mostly a consideration when you’re dealing with high capacity automatics, particularly Glocks, where the spec mag capacity is extremely tight. Obviously, if you’re practicing with anything that doesn’t use detachable box magazines, or you pre-packed your ammo, this isn’t a consideration.

It is possible to bruise your shoulder firing high power rifles. It’s often advisable to start someone out with lighter recoil weapons like 9mm or .223s, but once in awhile you will find some idiot who really wants to start out on a .44 magnum, or an even more massive hand cannon. Not so much a common mistake, but it is a piece of good advice: start on lighter guns, and then work your way up to the beefier stuff once you’re used to recoil. Learning on a 9mm handgun or a shotgun is vastly preferable to getting your introduction to shooting on a .50BMG bolt action Anti-Material rifle. That said, there are plenty of ranges that will gleefully advertise their biggest and loudest, and there is an allure to being able to say you’ve fired an S&W .500. Just, maybe, don’t make that your first firearms experience. I’d also recommend avoiding fully automatic weapons until you’ve had some experience with semi-auto, and learned to control recoil for yourself. I’ve heard way too many stories of people accidentally killing themselves or someone else from uncontrolled barrel climb.

None of this is the most common mistake about practicing with firearms, though. That one’s very simple: Not doing it.

I’ll say this again for emphasis: The most common mistake most people make is not practicing with their firearm.

This, honestly, happens a lot. Someone will buy a gun for self-defense. They may go to a training course. That training course may even be good, and teach them how to properly operate and maintain their gun. And then they never practice.

We say this all the time, but it’s worth remembering. When you’re in a life threatening situation you do not have time to think. We also tell you, natural instinct will get you killed. You need to train and practice to create new instantaneous responses. Firearms are no different.

If you’re in a situation where you honestly need to use a weapon, taking time while trying to remember what someone told you seven years ago will get you killed. You need to drill those movements down until they’re your new instinctive response. At that point, it doesn’t matter if it’s a knife, a gun, or your own body. You need to practice until you can perform the necessary actions while your heart is pounding and your hands are shaking from an adrenaline rush.

Adrenaline is very important for keeping you alive, but in the moment it sucks. It makes precise actions (including driving and marksmanship) far more difficult than they need to be. Also, the aftertaste is horrible, though, maybe, that’s just me.

Immediately following this, the second mistake is probably not practicing enough. This one’s more understandable, ammo and rental fees are expensive, so that’s a factor. This is also less critical. In the case of getting practice, too much is preferable to enough, but getting some in will help.

If you’re unfamiliar with basic gun safety rules (and there are some variations) here’s an amalgamated list to start from:

  • Always treat a firearm as if it’s loaded.
  • Never point a firearm at anything you do not intend to shoot.
  • Never place your finger on the trigger until you are ready to fire.
  • Always remain aware of your target’s surroundings, particularly what is behind it.
  • Keep your weapon on Safe until you are ready to fire.
  • Always unload your firearm before storage. Never store a loaded firearm.

That’s not a comprehensive list, but it’s a good starting point. Also, always respect a firearm. These are incredibly dangerous tools, and misuse can have horrific results.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Reject Cynicism. Inner Strength is about Courage

Thoughts on the gentle and compassionate character that is perceived as weak but has “inner strength”? What is your personal definition of inner strength in the context of this archetype, and would it actually be beneficial in a semi-realistic setting? And how would you go about deconstructing, and subsequently reconstructing it? I hate cynical endings that show kindness is meaningless or a hindrance, I was wondering if I could subvert such a message without eyeroll-ness using such a character.

Coming out with the hard questions, huh?

The truth is there is no right way to write this type of character because “inner strength” isn’t a generic term but a personal one. In terms of meaning, strength changes from individual to individual. So, for a writer, that means defining what “inner strength” means to you.

Strong is a State of Mind.

Let’s redefine “inner strength” as courage. Courage is not being without weakness, it’s about overcoming fears and insecurities. It’s about facing uncomfortable truths even when the lies those truths hide make up the fabric of your memory.

There’s no single right answer or way to go about portraying a character who is courageous in their daily life, who stands up, who faces down what makes them afraid, and who tries even knowing they might fail. Kindness is a gift given to someone else, and while you might hope for reciprocation you’re not guaranteed a response.

“This is about what I can do,” this type of character says. “This is not about what you or what you deserve. I’m kind because I believe in kindness. You can be cruel to me, that’s you’re choice. I’ll continue to be kind to you because that’s the approach I’ve chosen.”

You don’t need to subvert, or deconstruct, or reconstruct. What you’ve got to do is play the archetype straight. Write the character who genuinely believes kindness can change the world. You don’t need a character who starts out “strong” and inner strength isn’t easily quantified in the general sense. You need a character who is wiling to stand up for their beliefs, even when their insecure, frightened, unsure, and hopeless. Creating a character who genuinely is mentally and emotionally strong is creating a character who is learning how to be strong as they go through their experiences, in figuring out what that means for them and for you, discovering how they got there, throwing aside cynicism, and in the end believing that  kindness really can make a difference.

You’ve got to decide what “inner strength” is in the context of your story. For me, inner strength is the most important quality for any character. I define “strength” by their emotional experiences, how they deal with them, if they face them, their decisions, their beliefs, and how those shape their story within the narrative. Each one has their own qualities, their own strengths.

“Yes, the world can be a dark and dangerous place. Yes, people can by cynical and self-interested. Yes, cruelty, indifference, and ambivalence are all easier to accept. Yes, sometimes, changing even one small aspect of this world seems impossible. Hope can be frightening, it’s painful to see your dreams crushed. I know this task is Sisyphean, every time we get that boulder to the top of the hill it just rolls back down. Sometimes, for me, even just getting out of the bed in the morning can be herculean. But you? You’re just using cynicism to excuse action. In your world, we’re already doomed. That attitude just protects the status quo. I won’t stand aside. I won’t do nothing. I won’t let fear stop me and I won’t let you stop me either. I’m going whether you come with me or not.”

The irony for all the cynics will tell you their way is more “realistic” is that it’s much more difficult to maintain hope, to stay hopeful, positive, and to keep chasing after your dreams. It’s more difficult to be kind than it is to be cruel. You risk more in being open to others than you do in being closed, and its much harder to keep sticking your hand back into the fire after you’ve been burned. The mistake comes with assuming that being kind is easy. It is under most circumstances, but there are those where you need to dig deep to maintain that smile. It’s easy to see the flaws and failings in other people, and much harder to reach out. The mistake is in assuming these characters have never seen the world’s darkness, that they’re sheltered, and that once they’re exposed to that darkness they’ll change their tune. That’s not necessarily true.

Now, there are those kinds of characters whose kindness is based in both innocence and ignorance. Who are open because they have the privilege of living in an environment where they don’t regularly encounter cruelty, where no one has specifically been directly cruel to them, where they’ve never had the values they espouse challenged. Then, there are the characters who have had their values challenged. The ones who locked hands with misery and despair, who went through their crucibles, and came out the other side fire forged. These characters genuinely believe in the values they espouse, all the way down to the extreme end of pacifism where even when their life is threatened they never raise a hand to defend themselves with violence. They choose words instead.

There isn’t anything unrealistic about characters choosing a path of peace over one of war. Diplomacy is a real skill set with real value in the real world. There are plenty of people out there every day making a difference, by giving time to good causes, who chase after their own dreams of a better world. There are plenty of examples out there to show you can’t make a better world through violence. Plenty of different philosophies on the subject too.

Strength comes from growth, from picking ourselves back up when we fall down, and standing up again. Like Sisyphus with his boulder, there’s no shortage of pitfalls to knock us back down to square one. That “inner strength” comes from fortitude, from the willingness to keep going, from acknowledging our own failings, and being patient with others for theirs.

So, the question becomes do you believe in the values this character espouses? Can you be genuine when you write them? Can you be honest with their struggles? Can you be honest? Can you write from the perspective where you believe in what they stand for, but are willing to challenge them and put those beliefs to the test? Are you willing to let them fall short? Willing to see them fail?

Maybe I don’t want to be gentle all the time? I always try to be kind! I try and I try, and I try, and I’m sick of it! I’m not getting anywhere, and when I do you’re there with some witty crack about how it couldn’t get better than this! Why are you doing this to me? How can you go through life like this doesn’t affect you? People are suffering! They’re suffering and I can’t do anything about it!

Ultimately, the difference between a character who affects the audience and a character who is eye-roll worthy is whether you admit that they’re human. Even then, so what if they are eye-roll worthy? Sometimes, you need to start with a cliche and then when given context the character emerges. There’s nothing generic about this sort of character’s strength, they are an individual whose beliefs are challenged and shaped by their experiences.

Bravery requires we take risks. Risks mean that sometimes we fail, but we can’t allow fear of failing to stop us. Learning about “inner strength” requires taking a long hard look at yourself. There aren’t any special tricks to getting past the boulder, no special means of ensuring success. Sometimes, you just need to be willing to stand there and risk letting the boulder hit you. The cynic will tell you that its better not to try anyway because you were always going to fail. However, the honest truth is that you don’t know until you try.

The act of facing your fears is growth all by itself. Putting yourself out there, even if you fail, is an act of courage.

That’s really how we do it.

One step at a time.

-Michi

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Indirect Consequences

Hi I’ve been reading your posts on Feel Good Violence and it’s very interesting. I’m writing a story which largely centers around a Sinister Dystopian Government Agency ™ that is pretty… liberal in its use of violence, and I’m worried about FGV when there is little to no personal consequence for their actions. The narrator (part of the agency) does experience emotional/physical effects (and the “necessity” of the violence is discussed at length), but is that enough to keep it out of FGV?

Let me reiterate something, I know I’ve said before, but, the entire feel good violence critique is based on violence that exists as a power fantasy. A lack of (plausible) consequences is a common symptom, not the cause.

Those consequences don’t need to be direct. It’s not necessarily a simple cause and effect relationship. It’s also important to understand, these consequences aren’t necessarily a punishment. A character engaging in violence that then affects other characters in your story is still a legitimate consequence.

For example: if you’re telling the story of someone who, in a moment of macho bravado beats someone into a coma, and then goes on with their life, that could be FGV. However, if you’re also focusing on the family and friends of the person who’s been brutalized, the entire narrative takes on a different, far less celebratory, tone, even without applying those consequences to the character who created this situation.

Violence is not a precision tool, it spills over onto others, and affects far more than just one character. If someone bombs a bar your characters hung out at, that’s gone, it affects them. If someone is killed, it affects the people in their life. That’s a coworker, friend, or loved one, that no longer exists in their life, and that absence is something that has consequences for them. Even if the killer walks away and disappears without anything befalling them. Not everything needs to be Crime and Punishment; you don’t need to torture your characters for what they’ve done, you do need to address it, however.

This is, actually, at the core of the bully vigilante scenario we’ve mentioned several times: A bully acts against a third party, the “hero” intercedes on the victim’s behalf. The problem is, there are consequences, but they wouldn’t have fallen on the character who interceded, it would be back on the original victim.

Okay, let’s step back and apply this to your setting: You have a dystopia that engages in state sponsored violence, that’s not feel good violence. If your setting was presented as a utopia, and your state sponsored violence was somehow limited to, “only the people who deserved it,” that would be FGV on an institutional scale.

To be clear, this can, and does, happen in Science Fiction. Someone’s writing a story about their utopia, and hands the police (or military) unlimited authority to chase after whomever they want. It also exists at the core of any special cadre that operates above the law in an otherwise idealized utopia. Unless that is handled very carefully, there’s a real danger of the violence being presented as a good thing, and the resulting effects are simply washed away.

There’s a lot of room to experiment with an otherwise utopian setting, where these kinds of organizations thrive, subverting the ideals they claim to protect. It would be significantly more challenging, but if you want to wrestle with that, there are certainly things to be said.

Strictly within the context of what you’ve said, there’s a lot of room for a discussion on ethics and the state’s monopoly on violence, mixed in. At that point, a general lack of punishment for your character’s actions is a very legitimate talking point. This is particularly relevant because it can easily create personal dilemmas for your character, centered on the difference between the their ideals, their ethics, and the world they live in. Especially when they’re working for an organization that uses the threat of violence as a coercive force.

It’s also possible you may have characters who enjoy violence. In those cases, they “feel good” about what they’re doing, regardless of the consequences to others. This would probably be part of a larger critique. This is something you can see from real world law enforcement and military. The consequences become something that other people have to deal with. So long as you’re remembering and addressing that, it’s not Feel Good Violence.

The issue with feel good violence has, and remains, the idea that you can use violence as a solution to any problem. The joke, “if force doesn’t solve your problems, you’re not using enough,” played straight in prose. If anything, your setting may have the framework for an argument about why these approaches don’t work.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Superheroes and Comics

This isn’t really a fighting question but you seem knowledgeable about comics and pop culture, so I wanted to ask: If there was a story about people who had superpowers who are kind of discriminated against, would it be strange to mention a character liking comic books? Do you think it could depend on the superhero or would it not matter since a lot of superheroes aren’t born with their powers (or aren’t human)? Do you think comics would be different if there were superpowered people irl?

I think you just described at least a couple major comic book characters, including Hellboy, at least one version of the Flash, and maybe one Superboy variant. So, let’s take this apart, because there are a lot of questions here with no single, correct, answer.

Do comic books exist in your setting? Yeah, probably. It’s not particularly strange that your characters would have read them. Would they be the same ones we read? Probably not, but those aren’t for the reasons you’d immediately think of.

If it’s an off hand remark, then there’s nothing inherently wrong with referencing comics, if it fits the character. It’s also worth noting that comics like The X-Men or Daredevil can be inspirational to people. So, these are things that can carry special meaning. Having a character who’s obsessive would come across as a bit strange, but that’s true of pretty much anyone who obsesses about something, fictional or otherwise.

Making a fictional superhero for your setting can be a little tricky, because it’s hard to invest the necessary weight without it coming across as goofy. Take, for example, Fallout 4‘s The Silver Shroud, which is an almost beat-for-beat reference of The Shadow (a pulp era superhero), but doesn’t quite carry the same presence, and often comes across as a strange side joke, more often than something you should take seriously.

This doesn’t mean you can’t do it. Arguably the most recent incarnation of The Tick is intended as a riff on a fictional superhero blended into that world. But, it’s worth noting just how much of the backstory sounds like weird jokes at first, until the series starts to confirm the details.

The problem with simply grabbing something like the X-Men for your setting is two fold. First, it’s owned by Marvel/Disney. If this is supposed to be a major plot point, that’s going to start running afoul of intellectual property rights pretty quickly. Second, if you have a world where superheroes were bouncing around in 1960, then why would Stan Lee (assuming he exists in your setting), have focused his creative energies on something that would have actually existed in your 1963, instead of creating something entirely new?

You’re not the first person to ask this specific what-if question however, and it’s worth looking back to where comic books have been in order to extrapolate where they’re going.

Comics, today, are utterly dominated by the Superhero Genre. Even if something’s technically outside of that, it often gets roped in peripherally. Books like HellblazerLucifer, and Sandman would work fine as independent books in their own genres, yet all of those series share their universe with Batman.

Yes, the Lucifer TV show with Tom Ellis? That’s was a DC Comic (under the Vertigo imprint), with crossover ties to Batman and the rest of DC’s front-line spandex crowd.

That said, there are comic books (and adaptations) that do distance themselves from the genre. Off hand, some good alternate examples include Men in Black (the original comic was published by Malibu, which was later acquired by Marvel), Queen and Country (an excellent spy series), The Walking Dead (even if the comics are incredibly bleak), FablesBoneTransmetropolitan (arguably), XIII, and Valérian and Laureline, to name a few. Here’s the problem, some of those are getting into fairly obscure territory, and tracking down the last two in English is a pain.

I’m skipping over some of the obvious tie-in fiction that’s wandered into comic form over the years. Star Wars and Star Trek have both been popping up in comics for over 40 and 50 years, respectively. If there’s a major film released, chances are someone will get a comic to press on the subject.

And there’s Archie, one of the longest running American comics, and in some ways more reflective of where the medium used to be, as opposed to the market that exists now.

In 1954, Fredric Wertham published a book called Seduction of the Innocent. I’m not going recount all the details, but his basic thesis held that comic books were directly tied to teenage delinquency and serious psychological disturbances. To put it mildly, there was no real methodology, Wertham was pursuing an agenda and cherry picking facts to make his point. However, the result was a moral panic which lead to congressional hearings, and the creation of the Comics Code Authority.

Among other things, the CCA directly targeted Horror, Crime, and Romance comics. It’s a little debatable if this was intentional, but the result was that entire genres of comics that held substantial chunks of the market before 1954 were almost obliterated overnight.

If you’ve ever wondered what led to that weird, forced, upbeat, “wholesome,” tone from 1960s comics, it is at the feet of Wertham and his book. Ironically, Wertham was campaigning against superhero comics, and instead successfully enshrined them as the default genre for the medium.

If you’ve read Watchmen, hopefully the pirate comic interludes make a little more sense now. They’re a reference to EC’s real horror anthology series of the 40s and 50s. (They’re also a critical element to following several character arcs, and I’m kind of sorry they weren’t in the film, but that’s a different discussion.)

Another thing that’s worth remembering is that superheroes didn’t start with comic books. The Scarlet Pimpernel is usually cited as the first modern superhero; with characters like Zorro, The Shadow, and Doc Savage following in subsequent decades. (This is without stepping back and pulling characters from classic myth, like Hercules or Thor, and recasting them as superheroes. They fit in the genre comfortably, but that came later.)

So, here’s the real question. If he lived in a world where real world superheroes walked the earth, would Wertham’s book have garnered the same attention? Would readers have been interested in Batman or Spiderman in a world where actual superheroes fought in the streets and skies?

I mentioned this in passing, but Alan Moore’s answer was, “no.” In Watchmen, the rise of superheroes killed the superhero and vigilante comics of the 30s and 40s, as actual costumed figures started appearing. (Though, worth noting this is a setting where only one character has explicit superpowers.)

Brian Michael Bendis’s answer on the subject is, “yes.” Powers is built in a setting where superhero comics still exist, and dominate the medium, much like in the real world. The added wrinkle is that some of these characters actually licensed their likeness and adventures to some comic book publishers.

A similar take can be seen in Logan (2017), where Laura (Dafne Keen) produces some Claremont era X-Men comics. Remember, this is a setting that almost precisely matches what you’re describing. Young mutants, who are an abused and persecuted minority being inspired by comic books of their predecessor’s adventures.

So, who’s right?

Like I said, there isn’t a single correct answer to this question. Plenty of comic book characters have obviously read a few comics over the years, some have even read versions of their own adventures (accurate or otherwise), republished with (or without) their consent. There’s a lot of room, and there’s no single answer on what inspired your character.

If you have the time and money, there are a few things I would strongly recommend taking a look at:

Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons is the classic deconstruction of the superhero genre. There’s a lot going on in this book, some of which is less relevant now than it once was. The major thing for the time was a serious attempt to envision a world where superheroes existed, and mapping out all the political changes that would create. Watchmen is not the world that existed in 1985 with superheroes. It’s a very different world, where the changes are both subtle and significant.

Planetary by Warren Ellis and John Cassidy is a sort of quick recap of different popular media genres, ranging from old pulp heroes, to Hong Kong action stars. It’s built on the premise of archaeologists of the strange. Worth your time as this does an excellent job playing with genre expectations for comic book superheroes.

Powers by Brian Michael Bendis and Mike Avon Oeming is a police procedural where the cops investigate crimes by superheroes and villains. It does an excellent job of blending the weirdness of the superhero genre into mundane police work.

Now, having said all of that, there’s a kind of cynical thread in Planetary that’s probably worth considering. The idea that the saturation, and subsequent crystallization, of superhero comics formula has paralyzed the genre’s growth. I don’t know if I fully agree with Ellis on this, but I can say that your own creativity, and your ability to convincingly articulate an original setting is more important than making sure you’re staying within some pre-codified set of rules.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Feel Good Violence is Universal

So I’ve seen a lot of your posts on violence but how does that stuff pertain to a fantasy novel where fighting is a character’s way of life? Like his job is to fight off monsters and stuff so does fight scenes still fall under feel good violence or any other pitfalls you’ve discussed?

Feel Good Violence is the trope which makes a lot of our readers go, “I came out to have a good time and I’m feeling so attacked right now.” Mostly because they’re misunderstanding what it means, and assume that this relates to over the top violence, or exciting superhero movie fight scenes, or scenes that are written purely to be exciting and fun. That’s not what Feel Good Violence refers to.

Feel Good Violence is about violence written without consequences and scenes that have no narrative impact, which ultimately serve no purpose in the story except to show us how awesome the hero is, by itself, alone, and are scenes ultimately not worth anyone’s time. Feel Good Violence is your hero initiating a beat down on some poor schmuck in a bar at a level they certainly didn’t deserve, where they destroy the bar in the process, and everyone cheers. If you ignore the pitfalls of Feel Good Violence, you will cast your hero as a bully and most of your readership may not notice because violence as wish fulfillment translates directly into bullying and bullying really does feel good.

Feel Good Violence is your character contextually behaving the same way as a nasty anon sending nasty messages into someone random person’s inbox in the name of their fave and then being celebrated for it. Without context, without perspective, this is violence designed to feel good and violence where the action leads the narrative nowhere.

Violence has a high price tag, whether that price is paid physically through exhaustion or injury, socially through its impact on those individuals around you and the way they treat you, and culturally through the rules and laws put down by whatever governing body rules your setting. Fight scenes are great for your fiction because that high price tag (which will impact every aspect of their life) is an easy road to high key drama with high stakes.

Feel Good Violence ignores the stakes, negates tension, and destroys drama, these scenes exist purely as an abstract and float outside the narrative’s actual plot. They do nothing, they influence nothing, they incite nothing, and ultimately mean nothing. They are the character acting without fear of consequences in a narrative sanctioned environment where those consequences can never occur because the author won’t let them threaten the protagonist. Consequences to their behavior simply don’t apply, no concept of long term pay off exists, justification is broken down on the lines of “good” and “bad”. The police officer will threaten the snitch who provides them with information, beat them up, throw them into walls, in order to remind the audience that the officer is tough. Forgetting that the snitch provides the police officer with important information, information where in the same situation and in a better narrative would no longer be available down the line when the police officer needs it.

The problem with Feel Good Violence is that consequences and fallout from your character’s actions are what create tension. In fact, most characters that general audience adore adore them in part because they’re walking drama bombs. Like the bad boy loner with a temper who punches out the school bully and lands both himself and the protagonist in detention.

Inciting Incident > Negative Action > Consequences

Feel Good Violence would just have the bad boy punch the school bully, and wander away while the bully lies on the floor crying while the in-scene audience cheers.

Inciting Incident > Negative Action > Poot

In characters that are supposed to be combat professionals, the mentality this trope creates will lead to abdication of responsibility and them behaving in ways that are unprofessional in the extreme. You won’t have any respect for the damage the character is capable of doing because you discarded the price tag. A real professional, or even just a recreational martial artist, knows they must moderate their behavior to react in ways which are situationally appropriate. They carefully weight their response because just hauling off on some stupid motherfucker can have some terrible consequences.

Now, while those consequences can be bad for the character in-setting they could be great for the narrative and the plot as a whole; but only if you let the consequences of those choices play out.

A cop beating up a snitch and then the snitch turning on them down the line is great drama. The monster hunter who accidentally destroys a town, whose actions have unintended consequences, or pulling a Geralt and hacking off some idiot’s hand in order to get hired for a job is great drama.

So, yes, this one applies to everything you write regardless of genre because it directly relates to the consequences revolving around your characters actions. Violence is very expensive, regardless of how fantastical the setting is. Feel Good Violence is consequence free, these scenes exists purely to make you feel good without having to worry about anyone’s feelings or anyone (you care about) getting hurt. You see the best examples of this trope in wish-fulfillment characters where the end result of the mentality is a main character becoming a psychopathic bully. At least, they will when you look at the external context of the actions they’re taking. However, if you choose to never critically think as a reader, you’ll simply absorb these scenes and cheer.

You avoid feel good violence by bringing consequences home into your fiction, and having the character’s behavior impact their daily life and how others see them. For example, if your character is a monster hunter and the monster he’s hunting gets into the town that hired him and destroys it, they’re not going to be very happy with him. They will continue to not be happy with him even if he does kill it and ultimately saves their lives. There are other consequences to be had like their homes, equipment, and livelihoods have all been destroyed.  It’s like Spider-Man destroying your car by throwing it at Rhino to stop him.

Thanks for saving my life, buddy, but I still need to get to work tomorrow.

A good way to double check yourself on Feel Good Violence is to stop and think about what’s happening context wise in your story. Most of the issues with Feel Good Violence stem from being too connected to your protagonists and trying to smooth the way for them, or engineering events to try to control how others will react. Those reactions and consequences are part of what create realism and tension within your fiction. Step outside your protagonist and start thinking from the perspective of other characters in your story, about how you’d react if these events happened to you. If you saw X occurring, how would you react? What reaction would help the story to progress?

Essentially, treat violence and your fight scenes like events actually occurring in the setting with real effects on the narrative and you’ll avoid Feel Good Violence.

-Michi

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Assassin Career Counseling

Heyo! I read your post on assassins and they are really good. Like, goooood. I do have one question though: when being an assassin is the character’s “normal”, why would they ever stop? I find it highly unlikely one person could just change their mind, so what could be the circumstances for the character to quit?

There are some legitimate reasons someone might want out, or would want to pass on a job. For example, John Wick’s backstory of leaving because he met a woman isn’t that far fetched. An assassin wanting out because he’s made enough to retire is another valid option, though this is often delivered as the cliche, “one more job and then I’m out.” It’s also entirely possible an assassin may choose to pass on a contract simply because it’s too high profile or dangerous. This gets into a general truth: If the pay and perks aren’t good enough to justify the risks, you’re not going to want to stay with an employer. For an assassin, that may simply mean looking for contracts from other sources, but it could also cause someone to leave the workforce. It’s also possible your assassin is simply a government employee, in which case, mandatory retirement will come for them eventually. Even if they’re freelance, age does take its toll inevitably, and if you’re engaging in violence, that will severely increase that.

Now, none of this really answers your question, because you’re asking, “what could change their mind.” Some of these could inspire them to “be a better person,” but more often you’re looking at more pragmatic considerations. If you’re sitting on five million dollars, there’s not a lot of incentive to spend your nights in the rain looking through an 8x thermal scope at people half a mile away.

The cliche answer you’re probably responding to is the idea that an assassin runs across a target who violates some code of honor they keep for themselves. This requires a very specific degree of cognitive dissonance. “Yeah, killing people is fine, unless they can’t legally buy Cigarettes in Missouri; that’s evil, and I’ll turn on anyone who violates my code of honor.” That’s not ethics, that’s someone who’s dangerously unstable.

It’s not completely impossible for a character to have a moment where they sit down and ask themselves, “the fuck am I doing?” This can, and does, happen. But, foisting that moment onto your assassin because they just encountered someone they consider utterly innocent is probably going to come off as cliche.

That cliche is also, often, used to present an assassin as, redeemed. “See, he’s not evil because he doesn’t torture puppies!” Which is hilariously reductive. It was okay that they used to murder people for cash, but here’s their line, which is still way past any kind of moral event horizon, so they’re not evil? No. They just have standards, like any self-respecting monster.

Now, contrasts like this can set the tone and distinguish characters. If you have two assassins with conflicting codes of acceptable targets, that can help to get your audience to empathize with one of them. Just, remember, that doesn’t make them a good person.

I should probably add, this extends beyond just assassins. Anyone who hunts down sentient beings for a living can land under any of these points. Including: Bounty hunters, cops (dirty or otherwise), monster hunters, spies (government backed or freelance), some varieties of special forces, and many others. It would probably also apply to fanatical cultists and wandering adventurers, just in case you felt limited by the previous list.

Another cliche probably worth addressing, because it’s somewhat plausible, is where the assassin is betrayed by their employer. There are setups for this where it makes sense, but, in general, this is an incredibly stupid move on the part of the organization, as they’re making enemies with someone who has the skillset to seriously harm their operations. (Whatever those may be.)

It may also be possible to flip an assassin using blackmail. This is one of those complex, and highly situational options. For example, holding their spouse or child hostage, in order to force the assassin could get them working against their own interests. I shouldn’t need to say it, but this is an incredibly volatile scenario, because if the blackmailers lose control, then the assassin will be coming after them.

It’s probably obvious, but losing friends or family could also cause nearly anyone to reassess their career choices. Not, necessarily, something unique to assassins, but it’s certainly one possible outcome.

So, why would an assassin stop killing people for a living? Because they didn’t want to anymore. No one else can provoke that choice for them; it needs to be a decision they make, on their own.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Heat Followup

elerena  asked:

Just read your post on Heat and watched the clip, and while the whole clip was pretty horrific, the part that hit me the hardest was…… how in the nine hells did he justify taking that final shot? If the guy so much as twitched- not even deliberately using the girl as a shield, but maybe something happened off to the side- the cop would have wound up shooting a little girl in the head! Is he a sociopath or something?

A little bit. Vincent (Al Pachino) is not entirely stable, and Pachino has since gone on record saying his character was coked up throughout the events of the film, though we see almost no examples of that in this sequence.

So, a couple things worth noting. I didn’t cover the characters’ backstory at all, because it’s mostly irrelevant to an overall critique, however, Vincent is a marine. He mustered out and joined the LAPD, which is used as a point of comparison, because Neil McCauley (De Niro) is also a marine who ended up in prison after mustering out.

It’s very difficult to judge distance in Heat, because the film is shot, almost exclusively using 75-100m telephoto lenses which does very strange things to perspective, but Vincent and Michael (Tom Sizemore) appear to be within 30-50m of one another. At those ranges, someone with marine marksman training, using a reasonably accurate rifle on semi-auto, should be able to hollow out a dime.

You can see Vincent do two things before firing. He adjusts his shooting position, moving the sights into line for a precise shot, and he then holds the shot as Michael turns, to give him the cleanest possible shot. Note that the girl (Yvonne Zima)’s head is the furthest from Michael’s when Vincent fires. (Had Michael continued to turn, their heads would have been closer.) He is firing on someone using a human shield, but he’s doing his best to mitigate the danger to her.

If you really want a full, “use of force,” breakdown on the situation, then @skypig357 would be the person to ask, though, the short answer is that Michael was using the girl as a human shield while firing indiscriminately at civilians and police. He needed to be stopped. Unfortunately, given these specific circumstances, killing the perpetrator is the safest way to do that, for everyone else involved.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Daydreaming Power Fantasies

So like, if you want to write Feel Good Violence but want to avoid all the problems mentioned, you should have it be in-‘verse fictional? Like, a character’s daydream or fantasy.

Not really. When you have a character indulging in a daydream, that’s not the same as a character who gets up and actually assaults someone. There is a real place in a story for characters to engage in  fantasy escapism, but doesn’t take the place of actual violence, and wouldn’t have the same consequences.

When you have a character who sits there fantasizing about all the things they’d do to someone, if they could, you’re drawing attention their inability to act. That may be simply because they can’t act openly, or it could be that they’re actually incapable of taking action.

Depending on your character arc, that can be a useful thing to show. A character who goes from powerless to empowered may begin their story fantasizing about the things they’d do if given the opportunity. Depending on if they’re the protagonist or the villain, you may even contrast this or replay it to more horrific effect, in the real world later. It’s also possible your character would attempt to enact their fantasy, only to be slapped down hard

Also worth remembering, indulging in violent fantasies is not really what you’d call socially acceptable. If anyone finds out what your character’s been dreaming about, it’s entirely reasonable that this would stick a monkey wrench in their life.

Intentionally, or otherwise, daydreams like this can provide important insight into how your character views the world. If they’re dreaming about all the horrific things they’d do to people who’d wronged them, that’s not a flattering image. It’s also setting the bar much higher when they try to come back from that.

Alternately, it can underline how disconnected your character is from reality. Someone who frequently engages in violent daydreams could have a tenuous grasp on reality, and be on the edge of completely spiraling out of control.

Dreams (of any variety) can be an important window into a character’s fears, desires, and inner psyche. However, they’ve been heavily overused, simply because they’re a useful tool, and as a result, it’s difficult to use them without being cliche. This doesn’t mean you should completely ignore the idea, but dreams (and daydreams) should be used very sparingly, only when you really need them. If you want to express a character’s inner frustration boiling dangerously close to the surface, you can cull the sequence down to a couple lines, describing what they’d like to do, without indulging in a full scene.

So, no, it doesn’t sidestep the problems inherent in consequence free violence, it’s an entirely distinct tool with it’s own uses.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Violence in Sloppy Writing

I’ve seen you two use this term before, and often pretty negatively, so could you explain what you mean by ‘Feel Good Violence’ and why you dislike it so?

Usually, Michi writes these up, so this time, I’ll take a swipe at it. Feel Good Violence involves situations where a writer has their character engaging unnecessary violence, without any consequence, and, often with unrealistic resolutions.

In good writing, everything that’s there has to serve a legitimate purpose. A lot of FGV is unnecessary. These are establishing sequences where a character will engage in unneeded violence in order to establish a violent reputation. To be clear, there are situations where a scene like this may be necessary to explain who the character is.

In the real world, violence has consequences. There’s some variant of a cliche to, “win or lose, they’ll know they were in a fight.” It is true. Violence has many consequences. Physically, you will feel it in the morning, with aches and pains from everything you over-stressed. There are also legal and social consequences to consider. Again, there are legitimate cases where someone can dodge some consequences. For example: an assassin may be able to escape a job undetected, avoiding the legal consequences of killing someone. That said, there’s still social consequences for being an assassin. Even if they’re being careful about their real profession, the people around them will still have to deal with the fact that sometimes they’re just not available, and that can affect their relationships.

Something we’ve said before is that violence is a tool. It’s an option your characters have to achieve their goals. However, because we’re talking about (an approximation of) people, the changes you can actually force at gunpoint are somewhat limited. FGV often has unrealistic resolutions. One of the specific examples we’ve cited before were situations where characters chase after the whole, “cut off the head to kill the snake,” routine of simply killing the villain, and having their entire organization instantly crumble. Granted, there are situations where that would make sense, for example a necromancer or a vampire who keeps minions under his thrall, but it makes far less sense when you’re talking about a corrupt corporate CEO, or an organized crime boss.

So, let me give you an example that fails at every point: You have a teenage protagonist, early in the story they see a bully going off on another kid, they step in and beat the bully into submission, forcing them to give up their ways.

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve seen variations of this.

So, is this necessary? No. To that scenario’s credit, it is a reasonable impulse, but unless this scene is setting the entire story in motion, it’s not necessary. Very often, scenes like this are used to say, “hey, look, my character’s a good person,” and, “look how badass they are.” That’s Feel Good Violence.

Are there consequences? Often times, no. In the real world, engaging in unrestrained violence would alienate the character from their friends, especially the love interest, get them in trouble with their school’s administration, and probably leave them with injuries. But, often times, when a scenario like this is presented, the scene could be cut with only minor edits. If the violence is only there to feed the power fantasy. It makes you feel good about the violence presented.

Are the resolutions realistic? This is a little different from consequences, because I’m talking about the specific goals that the character is trying to achieve. Most of the time when you have a scene like this, the goal is to get the bully to stop. Now, any of you who’ve interacted with bullies on a more than casual basis should understand the flaw here. The bully will retaliate against their original target, in more vicious ways, because their incapable of getting retribution against the kid who humiliated them. Bullies aren’t territorial alpha predators, they’re opportunists looking for a chance to work out their frustrations out on targets that can’t fight back. Interceding does not work, it just gives the bully more material to pass down the chain.

There’s also, often, an element of cognitive dissonance in all of this. The protagonist’s behavior is never fully analyzed by the author (or some members of the audience), because they’re the hero, and therefore, whatever they’re doing is inherently different from another character doing the exact same thing. The example I just pulled apart can easily result in situations where the protagonist is as much, or more, of a bully in that situation because they’re picking a fight against someone who has no hope of defeating them, due to superpowers or implausible levels of training. However, thanks to the marvels of cognitive dissonance, they’re the good guy.

Finally, it’s worth talking about tension briefly. As a writer, tension is one of the currencies you have complete control over. You can decide how much pressure your characters are under, and you, alone, can add and remove it as you see fit. The more that’s on the line, the more threats they face, the more problems that threaten to trip them up, the more tension you have. The harder you press your characters, the stronger they’ll become (or the more they’ll start to fray at the edges), and the more your audience will be invested in their struggles.

Violence vents tension at an incredible rate. You can spend 50k words torquing up your characters, and accidentally vent it all in a 500 word fight scene. In abstract terms, fictional violence is expensive as a writer. This is a large part of why I will continue saying you need to be careful, and surgical, with your fight scenes. Particularly when they involve your protagonists. Carelessly used, violence can cause your audience to tune out and wander off.

Feel Good Violence is violence as cheap catharsis. It vents tension, and throws your story’s credibility under the bus for a brief moment of, “didn’t that feel good?” It’s sloppy, and it devalues your work as a writer. It encourages you to rob your future for a brief rush in the present.

Write a character who endures, a character who is creative, a character who is persuasive, or even viciously analytical, and your readers will remember them long after they’ve forgotten about that power fantasy “badasshole” who started their story getting into a bar brawl against werewolves in order to prove they were “awesome.”

Write characters that don’t need to resort to violence at every opportunity. Let your reader always worry that, “no, this time, it won’t work out,” and make sure that occasionally, once in awhile, they’re right.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Criticism

any advice for getting over a fear of criticism?

While this isn’t universally true, fear thrives in the absence of knowledge. Something you don’t know, or don’t understand is far more terrifying than the familiar. Trust me when I say, the idea of criticism is far more terrifying than the reality.

The simplest answer is to simply submit yourself to it, and see what filters back. But, that might not be appealing to you, yet, so let’s talk about what good criticism is, and how you can make the most of it.

Writing lives and dies on self-confidence. You’re creating and populating an artificial world with artificial characters. This is an elaborate illusion, and creating all of this from scratch will leave a few weak points. Good criticism can help you find and reinforce those points.

I could probably boil this down to simply saying, “believe in yourself and your work,” but it is important to look at criticism as an opportunity to improve your work; not an assault on your skill as a writer.

It’s probably worth reading and remembering this quote from Neil Gaiman:

Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.

Good criticism will show you where to start looking for weaknesses in your work. If it’s not doing that, or it’s telling you what you need to do, it’s not useful.

It’s worth remembering that  screaming, angry, people on the internet don’t affect you. There will always be people saying, “you suck,” or attacking you for having an idea. They are as irrelevant as their motivations. Just because someone says, “you can’t do something,” doesn’t mean it’s true.

There’s a certain truth to the statement that people only have the power that we give them. If you go to criticism hoping for a reassuring pat on the head, then you’re setting yourself up to be hurt.

If you think of criticism as an opportunity to abuse or stress test your work instead of validation.

In the end, remember, nothing is perfect. That doesn’t reflect on you as a writer. Criticism is about finding what doesn’t work so you can fix it, and improve the work; it’s not a test you pass with flying colors.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Advice and suggestions for writing fight scenes.