Babel Clash

It seems like I started working on Babel Clash just last week, but it’s already time for me to hand it off to someone else.  I’ll be taking on a completely different set of responsibilities here at Borders.  I won’t be able to resist checking in on Babel Clash and commenting every now and then (especially considering the super awesome - and I do mean really, really, really awesome - group of authors we have scheduled over the next few months), but day-to-day operations here and on Twitter now belong to Mark & Dane.

Welcome to Babel Clash, Mark & Dane!

I’m not even going to attempt to top a post about ephemisms for sex organs. First, I’d probably get myself banned from Babel Clash for life if I tried. And second, well, it’s Monday morning and I haven’t had nearly enough coffee to be scandalous.

Instead, I’ll simply thank Borders and Terry for having us. Also, thanks to everyone who stopped by over the last two weeks to watch us make asses out of ourselves.

Nicole and I both spend a lot of time making light of what we do, but, while we may not take ourselves too seriously, we do take writing seriously. And it’s extremely awesome that we get to share the fruits of our labor with all the passionate urban fantasy fans out there. You guys rock!

Y’all behave yourselves. Or don’t. That’s fine too.

I love writing urban fantasy. There aren’t many rules. Because it’s a multigenre, there are no prescribed formulas. Conventions, sure. But UF is as likely to flaunt conventions as follow them. Also, because the monsters we write about are powerful metaphors, there are many opportunities for twisting expectations and skewing perspectives. All this allows an author incredible latitude when it comes to using humor, satire and parody.

“That’s the great test, if you’re going to be a great comic writer, not a humorist, you’ve got to take it into the throat of grief. Can you make laughter and seriousness so close that they are the same thing? There’s nothing more wonderful than when the comedy’s got horror in it, got blood in it. And the seriousness is at all times aware of its own preposterousness. What’s it for, this seriousness? Everything is loss, is nothing, in the end.” -Howard Jacobson

This quote hangs over my computer monitor. Not because I aspire to be a “great comic writer” but because I aspire to be an honest writer. One who shares the truth as I know it. And the truth is messy. I might write books about vampires and demons, but they’re really stories about people. Or, perhaps more succinctly, they’re about broken people.

We’re all broken, right? Because perfection doesn’t exist. Because we don’t live in a world of perpetual abundance. Because we’re humans and not the gods we’ve created. We’re broken and we’re ridiculous and we’ve all got an expiration date. And in these truths are the seeds of all good humor.

Humor allows us to watch tragedy through a Plexiglas shield and provide color commentary without feeling threatened. It dilutes horrors and deflects tears. But to be true, humor must also be relentless. Fear has no place here. You can’t worry that your mom might read your work and be ashamed. You can’t worry that the PTA might read it and ban you from the bake sale. You can’t worry that nice girls don’t talk about those things. That little twinge in your gut? It’s there to tell you to keep going.

Telling stories isn’t always comfortable. While we’re writing about monsters, we’re really writing about ourselves. And this goes back to something Nicole said the other day about self-deprecation. The things you fear, the things that make you angry, the things you love–ultimately they’re all fodder for comedy. Because life is ridiculous and sad and wonderful. And because if we didn’t laugh, we’d cry. Or worse, we wouldn’t care at all.

As Nicole pointed out yesterday, we write vastly different types of heroines. Sabina Kane is closer to what most people think of as the stereotypical kick-ass UF heroine. She’s an assassin. She’s half-vampire, half-mage. She had a childhood that puts the funk in dysfunction. She likes guns and blood.

But more than that, Sabina is an anti-heroine.  If Nicole’s Jane True is an every woman (of sorts, she is a selkie, after all), then Sabina is a never-y woman. Look at her over there. She’ll cut a bitch. She’s caustic. She’s violent. She’s got a huge chip on her shoulder. She’s not someone most of us would or should aspire to be.

Writing Sabina is both challenging and a lot of fun. Challenging because her knack for self-delusion and sabotage makes me grit my teeth. Fun because, well, she’s so effing easy to piss off.

See, here’s the thing: My goal as an author is to show a both an external and internal journey. The external journey is the plot of my books. The internal journey is Sabina’s character growth. And the best way to make a stubborn character grow is to make them squirm.

Enter Giguhl, the hairless cat Mischief demon. You know other characters like Giguhl, they’re the humorous sidekicks, the foils, the mischief-makers of fiction. They get the best lines. They’re also sometimes hard to take seriously until WHAMO they say something so insightful that it knocks the protagonist for a loop. One of Giguhl’s comedic roles in the series (and, yes, there are others) is to shake up Sabina’s life. She needed a friend like Giguhl even if she didn’t know it. I like to call these characters “agents of benevolent chaos.”

But the ability to have a snarky foil to the protagonist’s straight man is only one humorous benefit of the kick-ass heroine. Another one is putting these characters, who crave control, into situations they have no hope of controlling. Embarrass them. Force them to question themselves. Make them interact with new people, places and situations that don’t fit into their myopic worldviews. The potential here is almost limitless. One of my favorite things to do is to take a gun-toting leather-clad bad ass and make them have to deal with something mundane and inconvenient–over-drafting their checking account, getting a speeding ticket, dealing with shitty customer service, whatever.

For the reader, these situations are funny because it’s awesome to see an über-strong character have to deal with the same shit we put up with day-in and day-out. On the outside, this type of humor is labeled “farce” or “travesty” and it can be quite funny. But more importantly these same comedic gems are also amazing tools to force character growth.

Of course, there’s other ways to force character growth that are scary or violent or gut-wrenching. Those are also interesting and fun to write. But I think the use of comedy as a tool for character growth character is vastly under-appreciated and under-discussed.

Or maybe I’m really just a sadist who enjoys torturing my characters.

Either way, I love writing a kick-ass heroine for a lot of reasons, but my favorite is because I get to screw with her. Maybe one day I’ll write a more “normal” character and then I’ll have new humorous devices at my disposal. But in the meantime, I’ll just keeping thinking up ways to make Sabina squirm.

So what say you, Dr. Peeler? What’s so funny about writing the every woman?

Despite the popularity of urban fantasy as a genre, people are always asking me what it is. Usually, after explaining the whole paranormal fantasy, modern world stuff I go on to tell them that urban fantasy is also a melting pot of genre — a multi-genre, if you will.

It’s true: There’s something for everyone in urban fantasy. That’s why I started reading the genre and also why I write it. Playing with genre conventions and combining elements in new ways is part of what makes writing UF so fun.

You know what else makes it fun? The humor.

Hi! I’m Jaye Wells. I like a little sarcasm with my blood. I like making fun of the things that scare me. And there’s nothing I love better than a some seriously twisted humor.

But while I aspire to the love child of threesome between Janet Evanovich, Chuck Palahniuk and Christopher Moore, I get that not everyone laughs at the same things I do. Remember how I said Urban Fantasy has something for everyone? Well, whether you like your humor subtle, sarcastic or slapstick, there’s an urban fantasy author out there writing it. So I thought I’d kick off our two weeks together by talking about one of my favorite kinds of humor in urban fantasy: Snark.

First, can we agree the term is overused? These days, pretty much anything anyone says that’s the least bit sarcastic is labeled snark. But, in my opinion, true snark is an art form. In fact, I prefer the term “sardonica” but so far no one else is biting on that term. So snark it is. Now, what the heck is it?

At its best, snark is witty cynicism with a heavy dose of sarcasm. At its worst, snark comes off as snotty and, well, let’s face it, douche-y. Especially when wielded by blog trolls, obnoxious radio personalities and pseudo-intellectuals.

It’s also often confused for other common comedic devices: repartee, satire, gallows humor, farce, irony, parody. The confusion often comes from the fact that snark blends so well with these other devices and is even combined with them to great effect by skilled comedic writers. But in my opinion, snark is really just a preemptive offensive defense.

Bear with me while I get a little deep for a moment. Often the most effective wielders of snark are highly intelligent people who spent at least part of their childhoods being punched by metaphorical or literal bullies. In other words, they developed verbal weapons where they did not have physical ones. In addition, these same people probably spent a large part of their teen years observing their peers to try and figure out why everyone else seemed to fit in while they did not. Thus, a snarkist was born: a keen observer of human nature that wields words like weapons to cut down opponents before they themselves can be cut down.

I should also point out that these same breeding grounds can also give birth to writers and serial killers, but that’s another blog post altogether.

In fiction, snark is often used by characters who have built thick walls around themselves. That’s probably why so many urban fantasy heroines (and Sabina Kane is no exception) wield both snark and literal weapons. The guns kill enemies and the words keep potential allies at bay, but both types of weapons are meant to disguise vulnerabilities.

But given snark’s somewhat regrettable reasons for existing, why do we find it so freaking funny? Again, this is only my opinion, but I think we all have an inner snarkist. It’s just that snarky characters in books actually say what they’re thinking. They flaunt the polite rules of society that demand that if we don’t have anything nice to say, we don’t say it at all. And how many of us haven’t wanted to speak our minds more often? To be able to say just the right cut down at the exact right moment (instead of thinking of it two hours later when you’re halfway into a gallon of Chunky Monkey).

As an author, writing snark can be incredibly cathartic. First of all, I get to say things in print I might never say in public. If you read my twitter feed it might surprise you to know I actually do censor myself. But Giguhl, the hairless cat demon from my Sabina Kane series, says all sorts of things I’d be embarrassed to say in polite company. Second, it’s really fun to see how a character’s use of snark changes as they grow through a series. As a character becomes more open to relationships with other characters, their humor tends to get less caustic and defensive and more driven by camaraderie and good-natured ribbing.

I could probably talk about snark all week, but I’m more interested in knowing your opinions on this subject. Do you agree with my definition of snark? What urban fantasy authors do you think use it well? But most of all, inquiring minds want to know: Do you like your urban fantasy dark, light or somewhere in between?

I’ve spent the whole day writing and re-writing a single page in my book. This is not because I’m stumped. It’s just that this page is critical. There’s some information that the reader needs, information that the heroine needs, and it all has to be written with a certain degree of delicacy and verve.

Every page in a book is important. But some pages are more important than others. Some pages hold fundamental, vital parts of the story — and thus, hold a great deal of power over the reader’s understanding of the story.

For example, in A WILD LIGHT there’s a scene near the middle of the book where Maxine learns something pretty awful about herself. It took forever to write, because it had to be just right. A revelation that big, and its aftermath, is hard to craft.

I’ve got to run back to the book, but keep that in mind, at times, as you work. Every page requires your devotion, but some command more than others.

Okay, so I’m home, which means I should be ready to knock off a killer blog, right? Mmm, no. I just got back from two weeks on the road, with a family vacation starting Friday, and I seem to have fallen into a pit between trips. I keep looking up, seeing a pile of “post-tour” and “pre-vacation” work teetering on the brink, and just huddling closer to the side, hoping that, if it falls, it won’t completely bury me.  Or if it does, at least I’ll catch up on my sleep until someone realizes I’m gone.

So, while it’s not quite 7:30 in the evening, I’m ready to call it a day. Or, at least, spend the rest of the evening doing mundane tasks that require no creative thought, like laundry (which did not magically get done by elves–or my family–in my absence). So I’m going to give up any attempt to write a thought-provoking blog and distract you from my negligence by giving stuff away.

Prize? Any one of my published books that I can still order (which excludes the sold out Angelic–always gotta mention that, because it’s the one everyone asks for!)

How to win? Give me your best distraction technique for getting out  work.

I’ll pick my favourite Thursday, when I’ll return with a real blog.