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Sex, guns and storytelling
16 years ago
General
Sex and violence, like romance and suspense, are just ingredients. Not every meal requiresevery ingredient you enjoy, and some are actually damaged quite severely by the introduction of ingredients that have no place there. Mrs. Cropley's famous peanut butter & anchovis sandwiches are an example. On the other hand, sometimes strange combinations work amazingly well -- the first time I encountered mustard ice cream I just had to have a second helping.
With Heathen City #2 I wanted to deliver an extremely rich and diverse narrative and opened up many cans of wiggly, creepy little plot-worms. Exposing some of Malloy's activities prior to Owen's arrival. Showing the very beginning of Tony Caulfield's character, and his mother's, and then reveling in those carefree days when The Boys had the whole world at their feet -- and the introduction of Tiber Ferrum, swathed in mystery. I strove to weave a colorful tapestries with tons of blank spaces in it, spanning large expanses of time and intimating deep enigmas, speaking of bloodlines and creating patterns of behavior that indicated, through their contrast, the unexplored presence of substantial events between them.
However, this introduced a crucial flaw: distraction.
While I'm very satisfied with each story and tremendously proud of each arc's final form, especially the enormous creative influence and expression of the awesome artists who brought them to life, and while I feel that the structure of the arcs combined creates a framework wherein the stories that explicitly aren't told are almost as interesting as those that are, there was just too much going on for the reader to bond with the second book as much as they had with the first.
The through-line of the book was implied rather than expressed, and while I do love to make my readers work to figure out what they're looking at, the book as a whole didn't make it clear what the reader should care about and what they should take away at the end. Every story an sich was tight and had a clear arc, and they were thematically, emotionally and causally connected, but it needed just a bit more continuity for the reader to connect more fully with the characters.
I love the modular structure of the second book. It has obvious benefits for production, since illustrating a full comic is a taxing job for any artist, let alone when they have day jobs and studies and a way-too-dense script from a persnickety and overambitious writer. That Ayato was able to do it for the first book still astonishes me.
Writing shorter, denser scripts with a strong arc presents its own challenges and forces me to be economical, constantly compressing the plot, excising that which doesn't contribute enough, no matter how cool it might be on its own. Every beat, every gag is examined over and over to ensure it serves a functional purpose: establish peril, heighten suspense, misdirect attention, relieve tension -- and the stories are stronger for it.
I'm certain it's possible to combine the advantages of each approach, and I'm confident Heathen City Vol. 3 will demonstrate that. Modular stories by different artists for intense, highly-polished storylines with a mouthwatering variety of styles -- but still bound by continuity, tightly related, to preserve the reader's investment as they weave through the plotlines. Where HC2 might be discribed as an anthology, HC3 is an ensemble piece.
So this time around I even more closely evaluated the merit of each plot element, each scene and each character to strike a balance between the thrill of discovering new or previously-hinted-at aspects of this universe, and making sure the reader at all times knows what to care about, and carry that investment through to the end of the book.
And that means there wasn't a place for nice, juicy, indulgent sex scenes like those in the first two books except for just one, to establish a new character in the context of this morally ambiguous and hedonistic world. At the same time, the sex itself, the exchange of bodily fluids and the nature of procreation suggest a particularly maudlin preoccupation of this character that's only very gently hinted at.
There were two -- maybe three, at a stretch -- beats where I could have slipped a sexy interlude, and perhaps a year ago I might have done so simply because they would have been delectable scenes, but my assessment this time around was that their presence wouldn't benefit the story as much as their absence. They'd break the urgency and suspense, they'd trivialize the danger and emotional challenges the characters are facing.
Now, you know me. I think sex is just super and I love having it, and thinking about it, and seeing it and writing it, so this certainly doesn't mean I'm turning into a moral snob overnight. Heathen City is for me as much as it is for my audience and if I'm going to invest years of my life and thousands of my hard-earned Euros I'm going to make damn sure the result is a story thatI want to read more than anything else I could pick up at a con!
And I'm going to make sure, with every chance I get, to make my audience feel the same way.
- Alex Fucking Vance
With Heathen City #2 I wanted to deliver an extremely rich and diverse narrative and opened up many cans of wiggly, creepy little plot-worms. Exposing some of Malloy's activities prior to Owen's arrival. Showing the very beginning of Tony Caulfield's character, and his mother's, and then reveling in those carefree days when The Boys had the whole world at their feet -- and the introduction of Tiber Ferrum, swathed in mystery. I strove to weave a colorful tapestries with tons of blank spaces in it, spanning large expanses of time and intimating deep enigmas, speaking of bloodlines and creating patterns of behavior that indicated, through their contrast, the unexplored presence of substantial events between them.
However, this introduced a crucial flaw: distraction.
While I'm very satisfied with each story and tremendously proud of each arc's final form, especially the enormous creative influence and expression of the awesome artists who brought them to life, and while I feel that the structure of the arcs combined creates a framework wherein the stories that explicitly aren't told are almost as interesting as those that are, there was just too much going on for the reader to bond with the second book as much as they had with the first.
The through-line of the book was implied rather than expressed, and while I do love to make my readers work to figure out what they're looking at, the book as a whole didn't make it clear what the reader should care about and what they should take away at the end. Every story an sich was tight and had a clear arc, and they were thematically, emotionally and causally connected, but it needed just a bit more continuity for the reader to connect more fully with the characters.
I love the modular structure of the second book. It has obvious benefits for production, since illustrating a full comic is a taxing job for any artist, let alone when they have day jobs and studies and a way-too-dense script from a persnickety and overambitious writer. That Ayato was able to do it for the first book still astonishes me.
Writing shorter, denser scripts with a strong arc presents its own challenges and forces me to be economical, constantly compressing the plot, excising that which doesn't contribute enough, no matter how cool it might be on its own. Every beat, every gag is examined over and over to ensure it serves a functional purpose: establish peril, heighten suspense, misdirect attention, relieve tension -- and the stories are stronger for it.
I'm certain it's possible to combine the advantages of each approach, and I'm confident Heathen City Vol. 3 will demonstrate that. Modular stories by different artists for intense, highly-polished storylines with a mouthwatering variety of styles -- but still bound by continuity, tightly related, to preserve the reader's investment as they weave through the plotlines. Where HC2 might be discribed as an anthology, HC3 is an ensemble piece.
So this time around I even more closely evaluated the merit of each plot element, each scene and each character to strike a balance between the thrill of discovering new or previously-hinted-at aspects of this universe, and making sure the reader at all times knows what to care about, and carry that investment through to the end of the book.
And that means there wasn't a place for nice, juicy, indulgent sex scenes like those in the first two books except for just one, to establish a new character in the context of this morally ambiguous and hedonistic world. At the same time, the sex itself, the exchange of bodily fluids and the nature of procreation suggest a particularly maudlin preoccupation of this character that's only very gently hinted at.
There were two -- maybe three, at a stretch -- beats where I could have slipped a sexy interlude, and perhaps a year ago I might have done so simply because they would have been delectable scenes, but my assessment this time around was that their presence wouldn't benefit the story as much as their absence. They'd break the urgency and suspense, they'd trivialize the danger and emotional challenges the characters are facing.
Now, you know me. I think sex is just super and I love having it, and thinking about it, and seeing it and writing it, so this certainly doesn't mean I'm turning into a moral snob overnight. Heathen City is for me as much as it is for my audience and if I'm going to invest years of my life and thousands of my hard-earned Euros I'm going to make damn sure the result is a story thatI want to read more than anything else I could pick up at a con!
And I'm going to make sure, with every chance I get, to make my audience feel the same way.
- Alex Fucking Vance
The instructor was telling a student to remove a scene from her script, and she fought back insisting on the scene's importance. When the instructor discussed the scene with the class and it was clear it held no value in progressing her story, she claimed the scene didn't hurt the story, either.
The instructor was very clear. EVERY scene that doesn't help your story hurts it.
Pornography, like phone conversations and soliloquies, is a bad story-telling device. It would be extraordinary for a pornographic scene to genuinely expose crucial character and plot points without excess. And if it did, it would probably be seen as bad pornography. Almost by definition, pornography is gratuitous, and as my instructor pointed out that means it weakens stories. There's no excuse that it's just added on to make the story more fun-- it's always a distraction, and it will always harm the narrative. That's a fine sacrifice to make when you're writing for an audience that expects it, but I think what you've discovered is the reason why our libraries are not filled wall-to-wall with steamy sex scenes. Porn just doesn't tell a good story.
And the rub is, you're telling good stories.
See, the definition of pornography is heavily culturally biased. Even between Western nations like yours and mine there's substantial diferences -- there's not as great a revulsion, in advertising standards & practices here, for the female nipple. Or the bumcleft, provided in both cases that the bearer is of pleasing configuration, the ad is tasteful or cheeky and relevant to the product. A large reason why our libraries are not filled wall-to-wall with steamy sex scenes is that historically, culturally and for a large part religiously, we're raised with the notion that talking about sex with any kind of relish is immature.
Sex in a story is an intimate, physical and visceral affair. Just because common mores in the assumed majority of the population consider it taboo doesn't mean this is self-evident -- just two centuries ago a woman would have been branded a slut for exposing her ankle in public.
So if we're to be reasonable about discussing what place sex has in a story, even explicit sex -- and I'll say here that I do agree with the entire first half of your post -- has to be interchangeable with any other physical, intimate and visceral affair.
Like Karate.
Or a gunfight.
Or a car or foot chase.
Do these propel the narrative? Is the story served by a better, longer fight scene or a chase through a recognizable setting? Absolutely not. Like pornography, they're gratuitous, pure thrill, and seldom deliver enough narrative over the course of their execution to justify their length, expense, and prominence in the trailer.
Are they exciting, and do they provide an emotional high point that has the audience talking about it after they leave the theatre?
And is that merely weak, populist storytelling?
There's a distinction between constructing a narrative and constructing an emotional experience for a reader or viewer -- ideally these should go hand in hand, of course. And that requires either sensitivity to the reader's comfort level, or a willful and honest disregard for it!
In my case, it's a little of both. I know you don't dig the gay sex stuff and I appreciate that you appreciated HC regardless; your comfort level would have fully entitled you to sidestep the books entirely!
Maybe it's just my American attitude toward nudity getting in the way. In the end, a great story is a great story, regardless of the devices. And maybe I need to figure out what my feelings should be toward pornography as a device. What It's All About is my favorite story from the HC books. I don't know if it's coincidence that it's a story with an intimate heterosexual relationship and no pornography. I hope it is-- I'd prefer to think I can appreciate a story purely on its merits without letting any personal expectations interfere. But maybe that's wishful thinking.
But I do know, if I refused to read a story just because it contained homosexuality, I would be no better than someone who refuses to check out my FBA because it contains basketball. I've never purchased gay sex stuff before HC1 and HC2, but I didn't hesitate. It had good reviews, was made by talented people in a community I respect, and an author who's consistently delighted me with his creative efforts. That speaks far louder than I'd ever let my preconceived notions get.
And I've not regretted it for a moment.
I insist that cultural bias and personal predilections be acknowledged in any discussion so that the topic can be reasoned more objectively, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with having them. I know a few writers in this fandom whose work I simply don't enjoy, despite the fact that I recognize the quality of their writing, the sophistication of their skills and the fact that I like them as people.
To each their druthers, à chacun ses goûts! I have a few friends who haven't read Heathen City because of their sever discomfort with gay sexuality, and that's fine. It's not a matter of bigotry, it's just personal taste. I can't bring myself to eat crustaceans or invertebrates despite how delicious I remember escargots to be, and how desperately my boyfriend wants me to start enjoying shrimp so we can have it more than once a year -- but I'm not touching those disgusting little Salt Insects!
What It's All About is the most emotionally sincere story in the books and I'm not surprised you glommed onto that one. The slight sexual tension between Malloy and Julia is a complex one despite how briefly it's touched upon, because he's a queer sexual dynamo, she's a widowed mother and both of them have lead dangerous lives. They're adults who don't -need- each other as lovers do, but they have a lot in common, and there aren't many people of their age group in the world about whom they can say the same thing.
The interplay between the brothers was something that evolved from conversations with Vahnfox; we're both elder brothers, both experienced the petty competition and annoyance with our sibling all through adolescence and both experienced the realization that our baby brother is actually a really awesome human being after we'd been out of the house long enough for that self-enforcing cycle of rivalry to simply die out.
I'm particularly fond of the brief connection Malloy and Declan make, where they catch up. Declan gets to talk about things he doesn't share with his mother and brother, his burden as the self-imposed man of the house. Without spelling it out in so many words, that one page evolves from a mentor reconnecting and bonding with his favorite 'nephew', marveling at the young man's growth and strength, to fearfully seeing that the lad is travelling a path far too similar to the one he himself walked in his youth -- and the twofold scare of realizing how fundamentally unhappy he is, and how he wants much better things for his nephew.
Short as it is, the story's very much about the conflict between the importance of the present and the future, the emotional and the analytical, and how atavistic and elemental that conflict is. The analytical mind could evaluate the relative importance between saving the life of a single, related individual or saving the life of many needy strangers, a trope we often find in action movies -- but that analysis becomes nearly impossible to make reasonably when the related individual is actually present.
It's a profoundly mammalian thing. We need to see and touch and smell the people we love, those sensations have an extraordinary impact on our emotions. I'm particularly fond of the panel Vahnfox drew where Julia clutches at her sons despite their obvious adolescent discomfort with maternal affection.
But, so, yeah.
Porn can be fun too, is all I'm sayin'.
:)
Next time, Gadget! NEXT TIME!
And has anyone ever told you your avatar has bedroom eyes and an adorably waggy tongue? :)