I Write About Broken Things

Reviews for The Wolf of Oren-yaro have begun pouring in, and one thing that is common across the board is how people are having intense reactions to the characters. Some are universally hated. “Frustration” also comes up quite often. Why do these characters act the way they do? Is it all just in the name of realism?

Well, yes and no.

I can write likable characters. Kefier and Sume, in particular, have gained quite a following. Luc, from my upcoming novel, is starting to turn out pretty adorable, too (and I don’t often write about adorable people…also go on Twitter and search for #KSVillosoHappyFarmAdventures). I think characters like these have their place. They’re the sort of people you want to be friends with, that you’d have a drink with and whose side you want to be on when push comes to shove. And I give them their due–I treat them like I treat all my characters, pushing them through fire and seeing them come out like forged steel. It’s wonderful. There’s people like these in my life, and they’re my bedrock and my guides, without which I’d probably have already imploded in a sea of hate.

But I have a soft spot for the unlikable characters. I think it’s innate. I think that sometimes we have impossibly high standards for people and fail to empathize with anything less than perfect, that if someone is broken they should’ve at least filed the rough edges off. Suffer quietly, we tell them. Suffer in a way that doesn’t inconvenience others. “Maybe you shouldn’t have made those mistakes. How can you be so stupid? I wouldn’t have! How can you be so selfish? Why did you get angry? Control yourself, that’s no reason to cry…”

No.

Not here, anyway.

People may find this hard to believe, but I love all my characters. Right down to the most despicable villains. They all have their reasons for acting the way they do, whether we agree or disagree with them. I allow them to explore everything their personalities deem necessary, and I allow them to react realistically because that is the story, when you break it down. How they reacted. Their decisions. That push forward, despite all of life’s imperfections staring them right at the face.

It’s going to be messy. This isn’t a dance. This isn’t about badasses. This isn’t about perfect people doing cool things, or even well-rounded characters pulling off great things.

But we make mistakes and we hide them with more mistakes and so life goes on like a broken marionette finishing a play, like a lame horse trying to win a race, like the melody from a lute with missing strings.

The Wolf of Oren-yaro

No, this is about extremely flawed people making a stand, deciding to do better, be better, grow, adapt, love in spite of everything, and maybe because of everything.

“The world as you see it was not made brick by brick, every piece falling where it must. What you see is the overlap, what is left when all mistakes have been made—castles built from rubble, broken things passing for whole. A battle lost can be fought again, if you know to pick up the weapons of the fallen and arm the ones who stand. Not many realize this. Most think the fates decide, and like fools let fate dictate the rest of their lives. Follow your heart. It will see you through the darkness and guide you through hellfire.”

Sapphire’s Flight

There is value in this, I think.

There is value because while we read for escapism (and I try to make my books entertaining enough), life doesn’t stop after we close the pages.

And while some of us may be wonderful, loving, sensible people who can’t imagine ever acting the way some of the characters in my books do…

…some of us aren’t.

Some of us are angry. Vengeful. Lost. Depressed. Grieving, frustrated, at the end of their chain. We get irritated. We make bad decisions. We hate.

And to say that these feelings aren’t allowed, that you’re not a person worth spending any time with if you cannot act the way society deems you should…to me, that’s unacceptable. It’s why people act out or give up. Maybe this is okay to others, maybe it’s okay for others to ignore this sort of thing in favour of entertainment–it’s not my prerogative to judge. But it’s not okay to me.

So my characters are allowed to feel like these, to act any way they see fit within the confines of the narrative. But of course, if they make a bad judgement, it’ll reflect in the world around them. They get punished–hard, sometimes.

And then, because I maintain that I don’t write grimdark, I pepper their life with hope. Even in the grimmest, darkest battles, I need them to find the light somehow, even if it’s only within themselves.

Call me what you want—irrational, careless, an idiot, even—every name you can think of. I know. I’ve told them to myself for years. When you internalize such thinking, allowing it to settle into your bones so deeply you know your own weaknesses to be a fact, it becomes a kind of foolhardy strength. Make of that what you will.

The Ikessar Falcon

I don’t know, per se, if people need to read this sort of shit.

I do know, however, that I need to write it. And so I will.