Tuesday, April 24, 2018

Ranking The Harry Potter Books from Worst To Best

Ah, Harry Potter!

Whenever I'm fumbling around for topics to write on, there is no source more reliable than that great, cultural juggernaut, the mighty wizard himself, Mr. Potter! (our new celebrity)

I have enough opinions about the Harry Potter series I could probably write seven books of my own simply analyzing them and the profound impact they had on children's literature, the cultural conscience, and my own life. I come from the generation raised on Potter - the one that went to book launches in costumes and scoured message boards for theories about what would happen in the next sequel.

Overall, the series is a benchmark for children's literature and I have no doubt it will go on to be part of the "canon," both for Middle Grade fiction and Young Adult. If I had to pick one thing Rowling did consistently well in every book, it would be her worldbuilding. It amazed me how good she was at introducing something new in EVERY BOOK that still felt natural to the rest of the world that came before. She was a master of never over-playing her hand, holding onto good plot twists for years. As a result, each book really feels necessary to the overall series. If you skip out on one, you skip out on an essential part of the mythos she created.

Even so, some of the books are distinctly better than the others. Some are better paced, some have deeper theme resonance, some have better side characters.

Picking a favorite Potter book isn't an easy task. It's not as though any one book is a trash fire, and whether or not you share the same opinions as me will depend on certain factors - like if you're super into Voldemort as a villain or if you really loved reading about Quidditch matches. As a result, I can't help but rank these by how I appreciate the novels, and as you read my brief review of each, you'll start to pick up on exactly what did and did not work for me in the series.

Each book will be ranked on the following list of factors, which I recommend all people use for evaluating Harry Potter books:

Title Element:


Harry Potter titles serve as a tip off towards the MYSTERY! of the book. They rarely made sense pre-release, teasing some element we hadn't been introduced to yet. In this way, they serve as a decent way of evaluating the worldbuilding of each novel.

Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher:


Voldemort cursed the position and so there was always a new one each year! And not everyone can be Lupin. This ranking indicates how strong the side characters were, often a top feature of Potter books.

Ron Weasley:


Ron was my favorite character. Most of the time. He fluctuates between selfish, oafish phases and the wise-cracking loveable side-kick that we - well, loved. My biggest beef with the movies was that they only got that first side. He played the buffoon 99% of the time, never giving us what made him engaging in the books. I get why some people found him annoying. So did I, on occasion. How strong the "Ron factor" was often speaks to how well the dynamic between the main three characters was working. Seriously, when Ron is at his best, so are Harry and Hermione.

Pacing and Theme and Actual Relevant Stuff and, let's face it, where 90% of the ranking is - Yeah, this is the only category that matters. But I you need to hear my Ron related thoughts too.

So, without further ado...

#7 - HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS


Fact: This list would be in a totally different order if it was
ranking the movies because Emily LOVES wizard battles!

Title: 4

This title let us know the series was going to wrap up on a wild note. And the Deathly Hallows ended up being totally rock and roll.

Teacher: 7
Some random death eater we hardly see, since the books don't take place at the school. In general, there is a dearth of relatable side characters.

Ron: 6
Ron emerges from the cocoon of his obnoxious phase back in Book 6! He's a little annoying at times here, but it's building towards redemption, so over all, pretty good.

Actual Ranking: 7
Ugh. This book. I love it. I love every Potter book. But I've always been aware that I distinctly love it less than all the others. It ditches the traditional school setting, to it's detriment. It's missing most of the lovable side characters, only to wantonly kill a lot of them in the last act. It ends with that horrific epilogue.

That being said, it has some real strengths. The Deathly Hallows was a fun level of mystery to sew into the series at a point when the world felt known. Ron's betrayal and eventual reuniting with Harry have a lot of emotional resonance and kind of encapsulate how the whole series has evolved between the three leads. Dumbledore's philosophy about death - a philosophy that's been building up since the first book, finally comes full circle. Molly Weasley blasts some serious witch-hiney and Harry finally takes out old Voldy. And Snape. Oh my gosh, Snape. The "feels" with him are complicated. Whether or not you see him as a hero or still inherently abusive, I like him for the fact that he's always at least interesting.

Overall, Book 7 is a beautiful send off to a great series. So why is it so low?

Partially because a lot of the book is unpleasant. Getting through the camping in the woods section is a slog. Books 4-7 are all too long. Period. They ramble in a LOT of places, but whereas that was mostly bearable in the previous books, here it's unpleasant and boring. There aren't any jokes to break that meandering pacing up. Everyone is too depressed. I get that the book isn't supposed to be happy, but if your children's book is dark, it can't waste time being boring. (did we need to see Lupin have a midlife crisis? Or the Godric's Hollow sequence where they literally learn nothing helpful for their quest?) Honestly, the darkest parts of the book are often the best. It's great when they're in mortal peril. It means SOMETHING IS HAPPENING!!!

The book also does a weird thing that none of the other books do with regards to the central mystery. In the other books, the reader learns what Harry learns with Harry, but in Book 7, for the sake of dramatic tension, Rowling holds information back that Harry knows so that reader doesn't - namely that he controls the Elder Wand. I get why she did this, and I'm not sure I have any kind of work around for it, but it did feel a bit disingenuous. Much of the appeal of these books hinges on the reader discovering the wizarding world WITH Harry, but the very conclusion relies on Harry hiding information from the reader. And I don't like that.

#6 - HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE


Felix Felicis, providing much needed humor.

Title: 7
Despite being primarily about the history of Voldemort and Horcruxes, the title is essentially Harry Potter and the Snape Snape Snape. It's more Books 5 and 7 that strike me as the Snape books - the ones that show his relationships with James and Lily. Overall, bit of a disconnect.

Teacher: 5
We don't get a new teacher here, since Snape is a known entity, but he's compelling, and we DO get Slughorn over at Potions. Still pretty darn good, but there are stronger entries.

Ron: 7
This is the book that all Ron haters go to in order to justify their poor thinking. The trio is at it's angstiest here, with no one really getting along, but no one having a proper, outright argument either. It's just obnoxious. His relationship with Lavender is weird, and I think squandered time that could have been better spent delving into his relationship with Harry and Hermione, especially since he abandons them briefly in Book 7. More on this unfulfilled potential later.

Actual Ranking: 6
In this book, the villain's development matters more than what any of the heroes are doing. We spend a lot of time in the pensieve - most of our more interesting scenes, in fact. Voldemort is a good villain, but I've never been a huge apologist for him. He's evil because love potion. Kinda sad. Kinda lackluster as an explanation. I'm not sure what origin story would have satisfied me, but the interesting evil in the books - the kind that is textured and complex - comes from other villains, like Umbridge and the Malfoys. And Snape. But again, this is a false Snape book. A book that sets you up for Snapeness and fails to deliver.

He is, of course, the title element, but that reveal feels anticlimactic. Also, there's some weird gender politicking over his old textbook where Harry's like "I sense the DUDENESS of the Snape who wrote notes in this" and Hermione is like "OMGosh, please shut up" and what the crap did this subplot add?

The poor pacing is on grand display here, with Harry at odd times stalking Draco, or observing Ron's terrible love-life, in between jumping in the pensieve with Dumbledore. The Ron/Lavender relationship is a low-point for the series, which the book seems to know, yet it plows ahead into it. Harry also gets his own terrible romance, complete with chest monster, and the series Moste Boring Character, Ginny Weasley.

Ginny, who is so pretty even the Slytherin's notice. Ginny, who can play every Quidditch position, then call out that annoying, shrill Hermione. Ginny, who is perfectly understanding when Harry breaks-up with her to go on an epic quest to stop Voldemort. In a series filled with fully realized characters,  with flaws and strengths, Ginny is shockingly flat. All her flaws are conveniently locked away in Tom Riddle's diary, back in Book 2. It stuns me, because there is so much potential for an actual character arc here. Ginny should have so many trust issues from getting possessed by the boy in her diary who claimed to care about her. Or she should be driven to her Goddess-like levels of perfection BECAUSE she screwed up so badly in her first year. But instead of exploring the obvious depth Rowling set up, instead she is nothing but pitch-perfect girlfriend material for Harry. She never challenges him or asks anything of him. She's just super understanding and really cool. A fantasy girlfriend. Their relationship is completely unbalanced, unrealistic and uninteresting. I could say more, but this isn't meant to be a total Ginny hate fest. She doesn't deserve that much abuse. She's boring, not morally objectionable. But man, do I hate boring.

By now, you're probably wondering why this is ranked above Book 7 and I will admit, it came close. If not for the Epilogue where Harry is shown married to freakin' Ginny and all his children inherited her obnoxious genes, things could have been different. But there are some good moments in Book 6. Since they're at school, there are still funny scenes and quirky side-characters breaking the flow up. Harry goes to the Slug Club party with Luna! Yay! Slughorn is fabulous and repping for all the non-evil Slytherins! The felix felicis scene is divine. Moral of the story: Slughorn is great.

Also, I think over the years, we've forgotten how powerful the death of Dumbledore was. I remember after the book came out, we were reeling. There were news articles about people hanging banners off of overpasses that read DUMBLEDORE IS DEAD because no one knew how to process the revelation. This was a moment so huge, it made everyone debate for YEARS whether or not Snape was evil, something that, in hindsight, seems kinda obvious. But it didn't back then.

And even if I got bored of Harry chasing Draco, watching young Malfoy's desperate attempt to redeem his family paid dividends. Heck, it set up the best elements of the most recent Harry Potter book, Cursed Child (otherwise known as Sir-Not-Appearing on this List. For spoiler reasons. And because, c'mon. Even the weakest of the original series is miles better.)

The book had lots of good parts, even if it ran around in circles chasing it's own tail at times. And I can't overstate how much the jokes were needed to keep the lumbering pacing from falling apart. So it gets a spot above the bottom. Hurray for it.

#5 - HARRY POTTER AND THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS


That time we learned evil is a fan of anagrams

Title: 6
I'm a firm believer that if you have to call it a "secret," you're veering into telling rather than showing. The sequence in the Chamber itself is pretty good, but I never was crazy about the title itself. This ranking is probably the most impacted by the way the title made me "feel" rather than how strong of a role the title element played in the story, but much of the middle of this list comes out close to each other, so it's hard to rank any other way.

Teacher: 3
I have mixed feelings on the movies, but I will forever be grateful for the greatest casting match-up of all time, when Kenneth Brannagh played himse- I mean, Gilderoy Lockhart. I love him so much, and he might just be my favorite thing about this book.

Ron: 4
Ron is a solid best friend here and adorable confronting his fear of spiders. Yay, Ron!

Actual Ranking: 5
Of the early books, this is my least favorite. It doesn't do much terribly wrong, BUT... I don't like Colin Creevy. And I don't like Dobby. I'm sorry, I just don't. At the end of Book 4, during the three-year hiatus between book releases, I did a lot of theorizing. I was particularly concerned with which characters might die and I started making a list of people I could handle dying without caring much. Top of that list were Colin and Dobby and then they DID both die and I felt like a terrible person, not least of all because even after he died, I STILL DIDN'T CARE ABOUT COLIN CREEVY!!! Dobby sorta won me over in later books. Sorta.

If these characters didn't annoy me, I might have rated the book more highly. It does introduce us to the Burrow, Lucius Malfoy and the House Founders. Some of my favorite aspects of the series have roots in Book 2. I really respect it for everything it sets up in later books, but I think too much of the plot revolved around the set-up of "Harry is annoyed by his adoring fans." Because, you see, I also found many of those adoring fans annoying.

Still, the final battle in the Chamber is amazing, Gilderoy Lockhart is a fantastic flim-flam man and the basilisk in the pipes is super creepy. This book also gives us the best iteration of Ginny, since it's the one where she's sweet and human and fallible. She's a great character to be used by Riddle too, since she's so innocent and inherently valuable to Ron and I value what Ron values.

I know plenty of people love this one, and I've had it pointed out before that this book might be the most plot-heavy. There isn't an inch of fat in this book, with pretty much every scene proving important to the central mystery. It's also the shortest book. While I accuse the later books of being too long, this one might be too short for my taste. There aren't enough character moments. The ones we do get are pretty great, especially those involving the polyjuice potion and Lockhart. But many of the other character moments involve Dobby and Colin. For me, much of my love of the Harry Potter series comes from the character moments, so without these firing on full, it adds up to a lesser whole. Of all the books, this is the one I'm the most indifferent about. It doesn't inspire the sense of frustration that Book 7 does or the wallowing of "what could have been" that I feel for Book 6. It's a good book, just one I found less engaging than the others.

#4 - HARRY POTTER AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE


Warner Brothers went to great lengths to ensure that Harry and Ron
sported hair as truly awful as high school feels at 14.

Title: 5
I remember being kind of underwhelmed by this title, especially when we found out what the Goblet was right away. I was like, "whatever, it's just a trophy" and then the end came and "OH MY HECK IT'S A PORTKEY TO VOLDEMORT!!! DANGER!!! DANGER!!!" Man, Harry Potter has the best titles.

Teacher: 6
Mad-Eye Moody/Barty Crouch Jr. is one of Rowling's great villains hiding in plain sight. I flip-flopped on where to place him compared to Quirrell, because as a character, he is more enjoyable, but Quirrell was a more shocking reveal. By the time Moody is revealed as the villain, I think you're kind of on to him, but it's a nice twist that it's not even the real Moody. The scene where he preaches CONSTANT VIGILANCE is one of the low-key funniest scenes in the entire series, though it's tempered by the heartbreaking realization at the end that he's taunting Neville, possibly on purpose. Still, it's my favorite piece of Potter to read out loud.

Ron: 3
I may be alone in thinking this, but this is annoying Ron done RIGHT. The Yule Ball sequence is a showcase of Ron's potential for pettiness, meanness and insecurity, but it's done in a way that I think adds to his humanity and shows how awkward and wrong-headed young love can be. His fight with Harry is also well done, and helps confront the inherent imbalances in their relationship. And despite being a bit of a boob for the whole book, Ron is still funny. Some of his best lines are in this book, from jokes dancing naked in Dobby's tea-cozy, to his claim he got a Yule Ball date out of "sheer animal magnetism." He's rough-edged and hilarious here. Lots to love.

Actual Ranking: 4
The middle book! Right in the middle! This was definitely not intentional, but it feels right, doesn't it? This book, to me, is where the problems of the later books began. The pacing fell off the rails, for the sake of stuffing the book to the gills with character moments. For those who don't love the moody teens era of Potter, this is also where the moodiness takes a decidedly "teen-aged" turn.

But it's also one of the funniest books in the series, between the Yule Ball, "Mad-Eye Moody" turning Draco into a ferret, Hagrid falling in love, Dudley going on a diet and Harry bathing with Moaning Myrtle. It's a trip.

I've called out the later books as too long, and I stand by that, though I want to temper that statement here. I believe that we, the fans, are partially to blame for the ballooning length of the Harry Potter books, because all we wanted was more. More funny scenes! More character moments! Rowling was so good at writing side-characters, and once she reached Book 4, she leaned into that, giving us a plethora of extraneous character scenes. Most of Book 4's funny sequences wouldn't exist if it had been as tightly written as the first three. So while we get detours from here on out, they do at least expand the world and let us relish the characters a little longer. There are worse things to destroy pacing for. Man, I remember being disappointed when I learned Book 6 WASN'T going to be longer than Book 5!

Also, this book gets a few things completely right. Voldemort's rise is given lots of room to torment us with the horror of what is happening. Rowling clearly knew this book needed to act as a transition between the Middle Grade aspects of the early books and the mature themes of the more Young Adult inclined later series. She pulls that transition off with the rise of Voldemort brilliantly, setting up the action of the rest of the series in the process.

#3 - HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHEONIX


What's gonna work? TEAMWORK!

Title: 3
Leading up to the book's release, I was excited, because it just sounded so rad. And even though the mystery of WHAT the Order is gets resolved quickly, I still love the way it plays out over the book. This book really expanded the adult wizarding world, letting us in on how the first war was fought and how the Ministry of Magic worked. The book ends with the first wizard war of the series, and it's such a worthwhile build to the shoot-out in the Ministry between Death Eaters and Order members.

Teacher: 2
Yes. The second best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is Umbridge. You hate her. You wanted her dead more than Voldemort. And it's for those reasons she's so fabulous. The main villains of the Harry Potter series - Voldemort, the Dursleys, Draco and Snape - are all introduced in Book 1. They represent separate areas Harry has to confront growing up. His past (the Dursleys), his peers (Draco), his assumptions (Snape) and evil itself (Voldemort). Most of the supporting villains are appendages to these .

But another villain is added when Harry reaches the time that most teenagers find themselves confronting "society" for the first time, and it is personified in Delores Umbridge. She represents the sheer unfairness of the world, and does so perfectly. Her lack of comeuppance is infuriating, and yet also the right fate for a villain of her ilk. Because "society" never goes away. You just have to live with it, even though some days, you hate it more than evil itself.

Ron: 5
Ron is so lovely in this book. He and Hermione realize that Harry is going through a rough time and so they step-up to support him. Ron feels like he's grown up considerably since Book 4, actually complimenting Hermione and thanking her for the things she does for them, something that tends to unnerve her. It's adorable.

One of my biggest problems with Book 6 is it undoes a lot of what feels like genuine character development that Ron underwent in Book 5, for the sake of laughs at his stupid relationship with Lavender Brown. Personally, I think Book 6 would have been stronger if the plot had involved Hermione and Ron ACTUALLY DATING and breaking-up, and letting that fuel Ron's despair in Book 7. And I hate to say it, but I think the reason it didn't happen is that I don't get the impression Rowling is great at writing romance (see commentary on Ginny). But can you imagine how great the Book 7 ending would have been if that big kiss came out of them deciding it was worth being together, despite the hurt of a previous relationship? Ugh! In a better world, that is the arc we would have had.

So yes. This lovely version of Book 5 Ron is getting marked down, because I have a fanfic version of where Book 6 SHOULD have gone in my head, that the actual Book 6 ruined for me. Sue me.

Actual Ranking: 3
Of all the Harry Potter books, this is the one that has moved upwards in my rankings the most over time. When I first read it, right after it came out, I was not prepared for Wizard Angst. Up until Book 5, Harry seemed infallible to me, and I didn't like realizing that he wasn't.

But the more I thought about it, especially as later books came out, the more I respected this book and came to like it, then love it. Harry finally processes the anger and resentment he feels for all the loss he's suffered in life. I wanted him to be too noble to let this stuff get to him, but looking back, I'm glad he wasn't. His hurt and anger made him more real.

But this book also shows the roots of the Harry who will one day stop Voldemort. In the previous books, he's primarily reacting to circumstances that come to him. Here, he's trying to figure out how to act for himself, but he doesn't have the tools to do that yet. So he mouths off to Umbridge. He tries dating Cho Chang. He begins leading Dumbledore's Army. He defies the training in Legilimens Snape gives him, believing his connection to Voldemort to be valuable.

And that last action ends up spelling the death of his beloved Godfather, Sirius. It's a heartbreaking consequence to his unwillingness to cut himself off from Voldemort, but if Harry had followed his training, he might not have been tempted out of the school and into harm's way. Then again, maybe that confrontation would have come in another place. The war was on it's way, and there's something beautifully tragic about that inevitability.

Book 5 is the book where Harry grows up. One part I love is the long denouement after the battle at the Ministry of Magic, where Harry struggles to come to terms with with the loss of Sirius. He's in enough denial that he even asks Nearly-Headless Nick if his Godfather might come back as a ghost, but gradually, he learns to accept that this won't happen.

Rowling has gone on the record several times saying that the series is largely about death - accepting it, processing it. It's there in the first book, when Dumbledore calls it the next adventure to the well-organized mind. And of course, it's there all the way until Harry's mind is well enough organized, that he's willing to take on that adventure in order to stop Voldemort in Book 7. Book 5 is where Harry first confronts death personified, in the form of the thestrals, and then gradually begins to accept it, as he learns to move on after Sirius.

Overall, I think Book 5 has some of the most profound emotional resonance. It's tough to read at times for that reason, but over all, I think that speaks to why it's so good.

#2 - HARRY POTTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE

The precious babies!

Title: 1

The one that started it all. Note that this ranking is based on the original title, and not the abomination that they made of it in the US versions. When I read this book as a smug little twelve-year-old, I relished the fact that I knew what a philosopher's stone was, even though Harry didn't. But then it turns out to be the key to everything in a wonderful, twisty, mysterious plot for immortality, where self-sacrifice is the key to obtaining it.

Teacher: 4
Quirrell isn't the most interesting character, right up until it turns out he's been trying to kill Harry the whole book, then he's kinda fabulous. Plus, he's got an undead, zombie Voldemort on the back of his head. It's creepy and weird and marvelous. A great kick-off to the books.

Ron: 2
In which we meet Ron, and he is wonderful. He is the best friend we all wanted. He insults, then saves Hermione, and it is love. He sacrifices himself on a chessboard. Blessed, lovely Ron.

Actual Ranking: 2
Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

I will never get over what a great opening line that is. Or what a great opening book to an amazing series this book is. I have a slight bias towards the first books in series that I've talked about elsewhere on this blog. It's my opinion that first books have an advantage over all others, in that they get to introduce the world. Everything is new and exciting, and isn't that just the truth with Harry Potter? Everything we would go on to love about the books starts here. Magic, Quidditch, the Hogwarts express, classes, the trio, owl post, the Forbidden Forest, Diagon Alley, Hogwarts castle. The list goes on and on and on and on and on.

Aside from the setting being new, so are the characters. The Harry Potter books are filled with people worth loving, and one of my favorite parts of the book is watching the central relationships form. There are few groups of friends I've rooted for more in literature than Harry, Ron and Hermione. Each one feels so essential to the balance of the group. This is proven when they enter the trapdoor together, and each one has a unique sacrifice to make for the good of their quest.

The central mystery introduces us to all the fun of a Potter book, and here, the characters are trying to solve it for the same reason we are - not because the world depends on them solving it, but because solving puzzles is fun. Why is there a troll in the dungeons? Why is there a three-headed dog in the third floor corridor? Why does Snape hate Harry? What is the Philosopher's Stone?

At first, they're driven by sheer curiosity, until they realize that an actual plot is in motion, then things get serious. It mirrors the reader experience that would eventually happen across the entire series. What starts off as light-hearted fun, eventually comes to mean much more as Rowling unfurls her stories of loss and triumph.

Altogether, a brilliant start to a brilliant series.

#1 - HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN

I still feel annoyed that they ditched the wizard robes for most of
Movie 3, but this scene still rocks.

Title: 2
Otherwise known as Harry Potter and the Hottie McHotterson.

Teacher: 1
After two terrible teachers, the students were due for someone who excelled in his position. Enter Remus Lupin, the teacher everyone dreamed they could have. And like so many good things, he's ripped away too soon. When I finished reading this book, I was shook, because I no longer knew if I planned on marrying Ron or Lupin. WHO WOULD IT BE?????

Ron: 1
Is it weird that I love the Ron and Hermione that fight with each other so much? This book is Hermione's rough year - the one where she takes too much on and suffers for it, disappointing both herself and her friends. And Ron really doesn't let her off the hook, harder on her than almost anyone else. Right up until he realizes that they've also let her down, and she deserves his help too. I've always loved how natural the relationships between the main trio feel, and the fighting between Ron and Hermione here isn't caused shallowly. Ron had good reason to think Hermione's cat ate his rat and in his place, I'd have wanted to kill her for denying it.

And yet Harry's role in the trio here is also fascinating. Back when people used to argue over who would end up with Hermione - Harry or Ron - this book to me served as strong evidence for why Harry and Hermione just wouldn't work, because when she and Ron are fighting, it's consistently Ron's side he takes. Ron is the emotional glue of the trio. He dictates when they're "fighting" and when they aren't. The books where Harry struggles with outright loneliness aren't the ones where Hermione is gone, but Ron. Here, he's given a chance to choose between them and picks Ron. This sucks for Hermione, but I think there's some realism in the relationships here, and what it often feels like being a girl whose best friends are boys. Like, man, have I lived this myself.

This book hits me in a very personal place because of how much I relate to Hermione's falling apart from Ron, and their eventual reconcile. The moment where he promises to help with Buckbeak's trial and she starts sobbing in his arms is so cathartic for me, I just can't deny the personal punch of this book when making my rankings.

Also, Hermione slaps Draco and I'm pretty sure we can pinpoint that moment as the sexual awakening of Ronald Weasley.

Actual Ranking: 1
Rowling has gone on record saying that the Dementors represent depression. This metaphor comes from a deeply personal place for her. They are the death of her mother. They are the failure of her first marriage. They are her struggle to raise a child while living on welfare. They are also Harry's greatest fear.

I didn't know that when I read this book, but I don't think it's an accident that reading it, my heart ached for Harry. Of all the books, this one is the most tender. Harry is vulnerable to the Dementors because of the tragedy he has faced, and he is at times both desperate to escape their influence and tempted to wallow in the memories they bring - memories of his parents' voices, which he can't hear any other way.

Lupin tries to teach him how to face one, emphasizing happy memories as the most powerful means of projecting a Patronus charm. But in the end, he finally succeeds by projecting not a memory, but a hope for his future, that he's going to live with Sirius and finally have a real family again. In the end, it isn't a hope that comes true, but it's enough to get him a little farther.

That message meant so much to me as a young girl. Even though my heart ached when he lost both Sirius and Lupin, his first real connections to his parents, I felt sure things would be all right. Of all the Harry Potter books, this one strikes me the most as being about the inherent value of hope. When Harry expresses his frustration that all he's tried to do hasn't amounted to anything, Dumbledore reminds him that by helping Sirius escape, he's saved two lives, and those two lives have value. The previous two years, Harry was able to fix everything, but this time he must learn to look forward with hope, even when things are difficult.

That theme is also well personified in Lupin, who is kind and decent, even though he's been dealt a hard hand, much like Harry. I love Lupin so much. He exuded goodness, even with his frailties, and while I got annoyed with him a little in Book 7, I do think his issues with commitment were well set-up by his backstory. In the end, he is good and kind and maybe wants people to like him a bit too much, since he's been handed so much hatred. Overall, a wonderful character.

The emotional resonance has always been what I come back to with this book, but it also has my favorite mystery. I love how the story of Harry's parents is revealed. This was also the first book to make liberal use of clues that were sewn several books in advance. Sirius is mentioned in the very first chapter of Book 1. The Whomping Willow is a fun set piece in Book 2, but plays a much larger role here. And most importantly...

TIME TRAVEL!!!!!!!!

I have mixed feelings on Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, and one of the main reasons why is because the books complicate how time travel works in Harry Potter, and not for the better. What I love about how it's used here, is that time travel can't alter the fact that time is a fixed loop. Harry sees himself stop the dementors, and then he stops the dementors. I love time travel when it's used this way, and it's a fun ending to the mini-mystery that Ron kept trying to solve (but rarely bothered Harry) of how Hermione was attending all her classes.

I struggle to find any weaknesses in this book, though for those who don't like Book 3, I'll admit it can be quite dark. That's kind of what you get when half the plot is a metaphor for battling depression. Plus, there is the sheer weirdness of, um... Ron's rat being the man who betrayed Harry's parents. I had to reread that line the first time I read the book. But, hey! It was a twist I didn't see coming.

CONCLUSIONS!!!

The longer I write, the more pessimistic I get about certain things. I often find myself looking at long series and thinking "man, what are the odds all of those are equally good?" Even with Harry Potter, I don't think Rowling got it all right. I know I have my favorites.

But so do you.

And that's the thing I keep coming back to. Even with the variations between them, I don't think the series has a particularly "weak link." I've looked at enough fan polls to know that favorites tend to follow two patterns. First, that Prisoner of Azkaban usually takes the largest chunk of votes, but never an outright majority. Second, that all the books have their defenders. The series gave all of us something we needed at some point.

And by all of us, I mean all of us who read them. For those who didn't... what on earth did you read this giant list of spoilers for? Go read the books!

Friday, March 23, 2018

Tropes vs Tropes: The Wild West Movie Musical! (Starring Howard Keel)

It's my belief that everyone has at least one movie genre that functions as their "good taste" blind spot. My mother, for example, will watch literally ANYTHING if it is upbeat and about Christmas.

November and December are Hallmark movie season in our household, no questions asked. What's interesting about this predilection, however, is that she's never stopped being aware of how daft, contrived and forced most of these movies are. As a result, her favorites are all genuinely good Christmas Movies - Christmas Carol, White Christmas, and It's a Wonderful Life - but she loves the festive season so much, she'll enjoy a bad movie too, if it means she can get her fix.

My theory has borne out for several people. I grew up with a best friend who loved epic fantasy movies, even when the overall quality was low, because they featured rad costumes and sweeping instrumental scores. I really can't argue with her logic, because my own good taste blind spot is the movie musical. I am a sucker for characters singing and dancing away their problems.

The great day of the movie musical was a couple generations ago, which means that when I go to get my fix of soaring ballads and tap routines, I usually need to look to the past. It doesn't take long to realize that there's an incredible amount of cultural baggage attached to the catchiest songs of all time. For today, I want to focus on a particular sub-genre that was popular in the early 1950s - the Western/Musical mash-up.

If you want to make a classic western musical, you need two very important elements.
  1. A plucky heroine, struggling (unsuccessfully) against the patriarchy.
  2. The patriarchy, as played by Howard Keel.
I can't even begin to tell you how essential it is that Howard Keel be in your movie. Someone needs to say all those lines about how useless and emotional women are, and it is of paramount importance that Howard Keel say them. His voice is so frickin' magical, he can make the most cringe-inducing dialogue sound attractive. He'll sing all about your beautiful hide until you thrill at your own objectification. YEE-HA!!!

In all seriousness though, I start by positioning myself as a musical theater lover because not everything I'm going to say about these films will be kind. Part of what fascinates me about these movies is that they are ALL problematic, regarding women's issues, racism and romantic portrayals of the colonization of the west. Most of the critiques I lay at their feet are no different than those that apply to most Westerns of the 1950s. These films were a product of their times, and the messages they pushed were designed for a very specific audience - white, suburban Americans, who in the heat of the Communist scare and post-World War II restructuring, were hungry for a "simpler" time. A lot of those anxieties were projected onto the Wild West. The proverbial "frontier" was now in American's backyards. The wildness of the West was tempered by a reassurance that white America WOULD conquer that land, as history had borne out.

At the same time, I also hope this goofy essay isn't seen as an attempt to discredit those who don't enjoy these films, because of their problematic elements.  If "movie where charming Howard Keel kidnaps women" is a non-starter for you, this is okay. You might be saner than I am. For me, this particular Tropes vs Tropes is motivated by a need to explore the phenomenon of liking something when you're keenly aware of it's flaws. It's also meant as a reflection on past trends and values and how troubling messages can lurk in the past, even in seemingly innocuous G rated movies.

So, with that preamble finally finished, here it is!!! My name is Emily, I love Howard Keel, and it's time to determine what is the best 1950s Wild West musical!

Entry #1: Annie Get Your Gun (1950):


Is it love or animosity? Who cares?! It's Howard Keel!

Some of you might be wondering how so many western musicals starring the same actor got made in such a short span of time. The simple answer is that Annie Get Your Gun made a crap ton of money for MGM. This being before the days of the million sequel Marvel movie franchise, studios were more likely to produce "spiritual successors" that featured similar stars and plots. So what about Annie Get Your Gun was so successful that studios scrambled to make more?

The Good:

In my opinion, it really comes down to the music. Of the three movies we're covering, it's worth noting that Annie Get Your Gun was the only one that started off as a stage play.  This is part of why the movie has more songs than the other two and probably why they're better. This was a project that had already been a huge hit on Broadway, tried and tested, before it made it's way to Hollywood. The songs are classics, so much so that people who have never seen the movie or a stage production of the show are still likely to know a couple of the standouts.

Among the best songs are the nostalgic anthem, "There's No Business Like Show Business," which is pretty much required study for any show choir kid in high school. Other good ones include Annie's comedic songs, "You Can't Get a Man With a Gun" and "Doin' What Comes Nat'urly."

But the best of the bunch is without question "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better," the rivalry song to end all rivalry songs. Keel and Hutton are perfect in their parts and the lyrics are as sharp as Annie's shot.

Additionally, the film is well acted, funny and Howard Keel is charming. The Technocolor renders his teeth a transcendent white and what more can you really ask for?

The Bad:

The plot leaves a little to be wanted. In the first half, it's hard to guess what exactly the story is building towards, and when it does come, the resolution is a little insulting. Remember that song mentioned above, "You Can't Get a Man With a Gun?" Funny as the number is, the sentiment is played depressingly straight.  For all her brilliance and accomplishments as a female sharpshooter, the story ends up being about how Annie Oakley comes to understand that if she wants a man in her life, she's got to be second best, not first. If she wants Frank, she has to lose to him and defer to his pride.

I can imagine that in some renditions, Frank could be played in a way where he realizes what's going on at the end, and makes more of a show of insisting Annie doesn't need to suppress who she is to please him. You can do a lot just by reinterpreting lines and changing inflections, but none of that happens in the movie. Besides, there's no escaping how thin-skinned and fragile the ego of Frank Butler is during earlier scenes.

Ladies, if you can't get a man with a gun, might I suggest pursuing a different man?

The Ugly:

The entirety of the "I'm an Indian Too" number. It's so bad. It's so so so bad. It's the kind of bad I can't even laugh at. Maybe it crosses into cringe comedy for some modern audiences. For me, it's just cringe.

Cultural Appropriation: The Musical!

By all accounts, the real life Annie Oakley and Chief Sitting Bull had a strong, mutually affectionate relationship. And yes, he did symbolically adopt her, which is what the scene is trying to portray. Unfortunately, MGM took what had been a positive, respectful relationship and turned it into a farcical joke. The rest of the movie features several other scenes depicting their relationship, which are less horrible, but they're still hampered by stereotyping and the fact that Chief Sitting Bull is played by an Irish American.

This particular instance is one of a couple areas where you see how bad the 1950s were at accurately representing the past. In addition to butchering the one relationship involving a Native American character, the movie also misrepresents Frank Butler. The real Frank WAS the kind of man you could get with a gun. He adored Annie and her talent. Most biographies of the pair portray him as more than okay with being less of a star than her, and loving and supporting her as she toured the world, donated money to women's advocacy groups and trained girls to shoot.

In many ways, the real Annie Oakley was too feminist for Post-WWII America. Her life is retold in a way that makes her central concern getting married, coupled with the "lesson" that women must be less impressive than their husbands. There was real anxiety in the 1950s about the role women had taken in the workplace during the previous wars. Hollywood made a concentrated effort to provide narratives where female characters woke up to the realization that they needed to go back home and conform to female stereotypes in order to be happy.

And on that note...

Entry #2: Calamity Jane (1953):

Is it love or animosity? Wait... I'm sensing a pattern here...
With the success of Annie Get Your Gun, Warner Brothers decided they wanted a hit like that of their own. They copied the formula as tightly as they could. Sanitized version of a historical cowgirl + Howard Keel = big hit, right? RIGHT???

Of course right. It's Howard Keel. LOOK AT HIM!!!

The Good:

Of all the movies here today, Calamity Jane has the most focused and clear plot. There's no lag moving from the second to third act like in Annie Get Your Gun. No one suddenly gets kidnapped (we'll get to that one next). The plot progression is pretty logical and it's fun to watch. Also, while this movie's "message" has a lot of flaws, there are certain things to like about it. Calamity gradually learns over the course of the movie that she needs and values female friendship. When we start, she only sees herself as having anything in common with the men in Deadwood city. Her best friend is Bill Hickock (today's edition of Howard Keel), but it's the kind of friendship that's based on humiliating and one-upping each other. She doesn't relate to other women and instead views them as rivals, until she meets Katie, the girl all the boys love and all the girls want to be.

Despite their differences, she and Katie hit it off. Calamity defends her and supports Katie's dreams of being an actress. Katie gives Calamity a sense of warmth and acceptance no one else has before. My internet research informs me that a lot of people like to read this movie as having romantic subtext between the two. It's not something I picked up on watching it, but if that's your cup of tea, why not? Classic movies are incredibly sparse on deep relationships of any kind between women, and so however you want to read the pair, I think they're fun and refreshing. It's a classic set up of tomboy and girly-girl, but there's some nuance to that. Yes, Katie gives Calamity a "make-over" but it feels motivated by an actual relationship of care rather than Katie trying to "fix" Calamity. She wants Calamity to be happy and only offers "help" when asked.

Speaking of that make-over, I also was waiting with baited breath for some awful moment where Bill realizes she was BEAUTIFUL ALL ALOOOOOOONG. It kind of happens, but it also kind of doesn't. After a lot of talk about how Calamity needs to be more "feminine," she and Bill actually kiss when she's in her man's duds. Later, when a friend of his wonders aloud about what he's getting himself into with her, he just laughs and says, "don't I know it." Of all the romances on display, I think Calamity and Bill's is the most balanced. They both can really rile the other up, but there's a give and take to it, that leaves you going "sure she shot a drink out of his hand in anger that one time, and yes, he once roped her and hung her from the balcony of a theater, but they're going to be okay."

Additionally, Doris Day hams up the title role with aplomb, the supporting cast is memorable and Howard Keel spends several minutes serenading a painting.

The Bad:

While the songs are good, they're not quite as memorable as the other shows. The most well known is "Secret Love," which is a decent ballad and won an Oscar. My favorite numbers tended to be the ones Calamity sings with the prospectors of Deadwood, like "The Deadwood Stage" and "Just Blew in from the Windy City." Doris Day throws herself into every song with fervor, but it can be a bit jarring that her singing voice sounds completely different from her exaggerated accent in the spoken lines.

It's also now time to talk about that make-over. One of the "messages" of the movie is that men only value women who are pretty and conform to female stereotypes. A lot of time is spent talking about who is pretty, who isn't and whether or not Calamity deserves any kind of respect if she isn't. By the end, the conclusion seems to be... maybe? She definitely is treated better in a dress, but being pretty still isn't enough to get her what she wants, and as it turns out, maybe Bill does kind of value her when she's being a tomboy, in his own weird way. You can argue it either way, but the fact that you can argue the point probably says something about how this movie endorses superficiality.

You're happy now because you're drinking tea!

Another mixed message is how Katie helps Calamity become a better person. Outwardly, it seems to be because she teaches her to play house. But I think you can also argue that what she really teaches Calamity is the value of compassion, both within herself and from her friends. Again, take your pick.

The Ugly:

I can handle make overs. I can handle men fawning over the pretty girl. I cannot abide a man telling a woman she's getting muddled up in all her "feminine thinking."

Feminine thinking is, of course, short hand for "having emotions" because this is what every movie that purports to have something to say about the differences between the sexes concludes. Women make terrible decisions and have to be corrected by men because they're too EMOTIONAL to ever think straight. It's so insulting, it's hard to know where to begin.

By the end of the film, Calamity has come to realize that no matter how she dresses, she'll always be a mixed up, over emotional female and this is freeing, because now she can count on the good advice of men. I can't guys. I just can't. I'm never sure which bothers me more - that these statements inherently demonize emotions and imply that men don't have them or use them to make value judgments - or that women are inherently stupid for using emotions as part of how they make value judgments. I mean, take your pick, I guess.

If this was all this movie did wrong, however, it would be sitting pretty, and probably the least problematic of the bunch. But there are far worse crimes.

While most of Annie Get Your Gun's problems came from deviating from history, Calamity Jane is hampered by the true events it's based on. Because yes, the real Calamity Jane did lie constantly about her accomplishments, and was mostly illiterate and yes, she did skirmish with and shoot Sioux nationals frequently. And it's that last point where things get icky, because if shooting members of a single ethnic group is a defining trait of your heroine, your 1950s G rated movie is going to develop some values dissonance over the years.

Calamity Jane clearly has NO IDEA how to handle this issue. No one scene featuring the Sioux is as cringey as "I'm an Indian Too" but there are plenty of little scenes that build up to what is probably a worse whole. Whether she's freeing someone from a Sioux camp, shooting at riders from a stagecoach or laughing at Bill when he loses a bet and must dress up as a Sioux woman, the tone is insensitive and off the whole way through.

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce... HOWARD KEEL!
This particular scene with Bill kinda sums up the film's main problems. There is nothing more humiliating for him to dress up as than a Sioux woman. Through this scene, a small Sioux family is hanging out behind him because... I don't know! I seriously still don't know. Are they his friends? They lend him a baby for a little while. Did they conveniently forget that he's also shot dozens of their people? Oh gosh, this hurts my brain!

The one part that does manage to veer all the way from cringe to cringe comedy for me comes when Calamity and Bill are admiring the Dakota hills and she wistfully says, "no wonder the injuns fight so fierce to hang onto this country." It's like for five seconds she acknowledges that American settlers were, effectively, invaders and those people who lived in the Dakotas for generations are the same ones she and Bill have gleefully been shooting all movie long. The lack of self-awareness is awe inspiring.

So if you, a 1950s filmmaker, can't win by changing the past to fit modern sensibilities and you can't win by actually portraying parts of the massacre of indigenous peoples, what IS your 1950s Wild West Musical to do???

Answer: Make a story up and just ignore the race issue entirely! YEE-HA!!!!

Entry #3: Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954):


Is it love or animosity? Or is it just a mustache?
By the time MGM got to making Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, there was some anxiety that the film wouldn't do as well as previous Wild West musicals. Audiences might have hit market saturation, and so the budget was slashed in favor of funding Brigadoon. As a result, they couldn't shoot on location and the Oregon country side is built out of a conspicuous number of painted backdrops.

This feels particularly ironic now, because not only was the film successful, but President Eisenhower loved it so much he told all his fellow Americans to go see it. It went on to be honored as one of the greatest musicals ever made. It was nominated for Best Picture. And while the music from Annie Get Your Gun might be more well known, in my experience, if you've only seen one of these movies, this is the one you've seen.

And rightly so. You've seen the best one. So what makes this film so great, even when it is simultaneously - erm... problematic?

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly:

The thing that sets apart Seven Brides for Seven Brothers is that, unlike the other two, which have bad aspects and moments, this movie just dives straight in and makes at least some attempts to deconstruct the weird politics around gender and love. Whether or not it's successful is something of a matter of opinion.

First, let's talk about race. Seven Brides is by far the least offensive here, not because it does anything right, but because it doesn't give itself opportunities to do things wrong. There are conspicuously few indigenous peoples in 1850s Oregon in this film. It's not realistic, but it's a sin of omission rather than commission.

Now to the meat of the matter:

Our story follows Adam Potipee, a handsome, arrogant backwoodsmen who comes into town one day interested in finding a wife. He's tired of living in a perpetual man-cave with his six younger brothers and figures a woman could help keep things in order. The townsfolk tell him no girl in her right mind will follow him up to his ranch in the mountains, but these townsfolk have forgotten that they are up against Howard Keel. Within a day, he's talked one of the most popular local girls into marrying him, a sweet, feisty, resourceful frontier woman named Milly.

When Milly arrives at his home and discovers he "forgot" to mention the six other men she's expected to feed and care for, the plot kicks off. Milly realizes that she can either babysit these man-children forever, or force them to grow up and find wives of their own. And maybe, if she's lucky, slap some sense into Adam as well.

So much glorious red hair!!!!
The relationship that develops between Milly and the younger boys is the highlight of the movie. Howard Keel is as spectacular as ever, but he's up against a full cast of charming, dancing, crooning red heads. As she makes them shave, learn to dance and treat people with respect, they fall in love with her in that family kind of way. It doesn't take long for them to see the value in her and realize that women, in general, are pretty rad and something they've been missing out on for too long.

In my opinion, this movie is the reason we never needed a live action adaptation of Beauty and the Beast. It was already done amazingly well in this movie. It's the tale as old as time of a helpless girl digging down and finding the will to survive an impossible situation with men who are used to living like beasts. The damaging aspects are fairly obvious - it relies on the fantasy that a good woman can "fix" a man and that a fella who literally kidnaps women can be redeemed.

Cuz, oof. It's time to talk about the kidnapping.

As Milly gets the boys to go into town and meet girls, the townspeople respond by pushing them away, scared those no-good Potipee boys are going to steal even more of the local girls. Heartbroken, they start talking about leaving and building lives elsewhere. Both Milly and Adam are horrified at the thought of the family breaking up and Milly asks her husband to speak to his brothers. In classic Adam fashion, it is the worst possible thing she could ask him to do.

Adam, who has recently discovered reading, thanks to Milly, tells his brothers that according to Plutarch, the Romans solved their frontier problems by just KIDNAPPING the women they wanted. The boys, who no one claimed were intelligent, are excited by the idea and so they take off into town, kidnap the girls and trigger an avalanche, stranding everyone on the homestead until the pass opens in spring.

So yeah, the townspeople were right. They did steal the local girls.

And here is where the question of deconstruction comes up, because the plan doesn't work. Milly takes the girls under wing, throws the men out of the house and gives Adam such a dressing down about his misogyny, he runs off to the trapping cabin and sulks the next eight months away.

It might not sound like much to modern sensibilities, but the movie gives voice to a lot of the hurt and frustration experienced by women in the 1950s. It's a story where the most sensible character is female and her consistent demands for respect are eventually rewarded. Annie Oakley and Calamity Jane sure didn't get that kind of ending.

Whether or not you think the men suffer enough before their change of heart is accepted might be a matter of opinion, but for what it's worth, here's mine. I've always read the story as intentionally over the top and farcical. All through the kidnapping scene, the joke is that the men are behaving stupidly and no one should ever do this. It's trying to cross the line, for the sake of humor and to parody how entitled men feel to the women they love.

And while it might seem insane that the women eventually take them back, within the universe of the film, the Potipee boys are probably still the best option. The townsfolk are just as possessive and controlling, but in subtler ways. No one except Milly cares about the agency of the other girls, and she does all she can to protect them and their choices.

Is it enough? Maybe, maybe not. But if you're choosing between an oaf in town and an oaf in the mountains, you might as well choose the oaf who can dance.

I've spent most of my time on this film rambling about the plot, but the magic of the movie really is in the dancing and lively sense of humor. The best song is probably "Bless Your Beautiful Hide," which introduces Adam. It later serves as the soundtrack for the legendary Barn Raising Scene, which may just be the best group dance number in Movie Musical history.

Closing Thoughts:

So what do we even learn by looking at these films? Tricky to say. I guess I find myself hoping that we don't tell stories quite the same way anymore - that it's taken more as a rule that men and women stand on equal ground and have much that's of value to offer each other. And that when we talk about the Wild West, it's hopefully with a bit more reflection on the lives and cultures of Indigenous Peoples, which were cut short by the brazen invasion of white settlers.

I also think they help serve as a cautionary tale about romanticizing the past. The 1950s turned to the Wild West for comfort and a "good old days" where things weren't so complicated, but in doing so, tended to project their own cultural baggage onto an earlier time. Today, we tend to do the exact same thing to the 1950s, a time that seems simple with it's meat loaf dinners and drive-in movies. But that's a comforting image we've reconstructed, that ignores the Cold War and Jim Crow laws and Korean War.

As I mentioned earlier, I don't think that means no one is allowed to enjoy these films anymore, but they're the kind of movies I hope we at least feel a little troubled by - troubled enough to discuss what they're trying to say, why they're trying to say it and whether or not we agree with them.

Saturday, January 13, 2018

Two Out of Three Ain't Bad: The Meatloaf Method of Character Development

Since finishing my latest book, I've been taking some time to beef up on my craft of writing study. Due to my limited free time, I decided that what I was looking for was a quality writing podcast, that I could have on while walking home or completing routine stuff at work. All of this preamble is to say that I am now officially addicted to Writing Excuses.

Brandon, Mary, Dan and Howard are offering up some of the best advice on crafting stories available on the internet. They get an A+ for me, both for depth and accessibility. I find myself reminded of things I learned in school, but restated or filtered through new eyes.

One thing I've enjoyed has been Brandon Sanderson's theory on character. Character is arguably the most essential part of any story. Give people an engaging character to follow, and the rest of the story often writes itself. Strong characters are so essential, that the entirety of this year's Writing Excuses is going to be dedicated to the study of character. Yet, when Sanderson teaches about character, he tells his students that there're only three qualities that matter.

This sounds insane, especially coming from a guy like Sanderson, who has written dozens of books with massive casts. And in fairness, Sanderson knows he isn't covering every permutation of character with this theory. What he's covering instead is how an audience engages with a character. And if you ask me, he's bang on. You see, I can tell Writing Excuses is a brilliant podcast because it happens to align with my own pre-conceptions of how good writing works. And if you don't think I'm authoritative on this topic, then I turn you to none other than the great Loaf himself.

This is not a face you argue with

I am, of course, talking about the classic rock song, "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad." It's not quite a love song. Not quite a break-up song. It's more about a "good enough for now" that is somehow more depressing than outright ending the romance would ever be. I love the whole, glorious, bombastic thing, but for our purposes today, we're looking most closely at the iconic chorus.

I want you
I need you
But there ain't no way I'm ever gonna love you
Now don't be sad
'Cuz two out of three ain't bad

For a romance, this is awful. But it makes for a fantastic character and a great story, and story-telling was always what a Meatloaf song excelled at. But how do you apply it? I'll admit, that the rhyming stanzas don't necessarily expose the recipe for reader/character engagement, but with a little help from Brandon Sanderson, I think I can break it down for you.

If you want a reader to engage with your character, they need to be at least one of the following, probably two, but almost NEVER all three...

1. I Want You

One way to get a reader invested in a character is to give them a compelling desire and then to have them chase that desire. Sanderson likes to call this "pro-activity." A pro-active character will drive the plot forward by making choices of their own accord. They're easy to compel to action and rarely reluctant. It's the difference between Captain America, who desperately tries to join the army, and the Hulk, who is so afraid of his powers, he strives to be as inactive as possible. Cap is pro-active. Hulk is not. (At least in the MCU - Marvel Cinematic Universe - all these things get hazier once you factor in years of different comic book writers interpreting the characters)

Interestingly, the thing the character wants doesn't necessarily have to be terribly noble in order for the reader to engage with them. Cinderella wants to go to a ball, but man, do we care! Edmund Dantes wants revenge. Indiana Jones wants to know what's inside that temple. Derek Zoolander wants to build a center for kids who can't read good. Characters who excel at pro-activity simply try harder than everyone else. They might not be the most qualified. They might not even have the right objective. But they pursue it with passion, and that kind of gumption sucks a reader in.

But what if you're writing about a lazy slob? Someone who wants things but doesn't follow through on that? Well, if that's the case, they better...

2. I Need You

Once you know what a character wants, the next important thing is how they are going to achieve it. Some characters have the skills they need. Some don't. Sanderson would refer to this as character "competence." This is super sleuth Sherlock Holmes, who can solve any puzzle. Katniss Everdeen has a freaky ability to snipe her way through the Hunger Games. Or it's Tony Stark, weapons expert and over-the-top cool guy. Readers enjoy stories about people who are exceptional, because they're the type of people who are equipped to live through exceptional circumstances. Within the MCU, Hawkeye fills the role as the "incompetent" team member. He's fighting space aliens with a bow and arrow.

Competence is an interesting thing to measure, however, because it's situational. Tony and Sherlock are obvious examples, but what about Dolly Levi, the matchmaker who always knows exactly who to introduce someone to? In her story, that's the only measure of competence that matters. One of my favorite movies that plays with this situational aspect is Legally Blonde. Elle Woods spends the movie struggling to prove that she's just as smart as her classmates. It's not until the end of the movie, when the court room drama turns to hair care, that she reveals to everyone that brilliance can sneak up on you in the most unlikely of places.

If the pro-active characters try harder, the competent ones try better. Of course, neither of these factors suggest that the character is trying to do the RIGHT thing.

3. I Love You

There is one final way you can make a reader like your characters which is, you know, by simply making them likable. When Sanderson talks about character "likability" I don't think he's talking about if the reader likes the character. Think of it more like, would you like this character if they were a real person you had to put up with daily? Are they a half-way decent person?

Katniss, for instance, is a likable character, but not a very likable person. She's prickly and angry and unpleasant. Readers like her for her other qualities. In contrast, Samwise Gamgee blunders through much of the Lord of the Rings, but no one is better at loving their friends than Sam. It doesn't seem like a very important skill, but it rockets him in reader's hearts, because who wouldn't want a friend like Sam? For the fans of Stranger Things out there, Will Byers isn't very competent or pro-active. But he's sweet and gentle and lovable, so you keep hoping that the characters will save him. Or there's Groot, who is adorable and makes us laugh, even if he's a killer tree monster.  Or Luna Lovegood, who has us by the hearts the moment she reads her Quibbler upside-down.


But Two Out of Three Ain't Bad...

It might seem after reading this list that the answer would be to make a pro-active, competent, lovable hero and readers will be hooked on your story, right? RIGHT? Interestingly, no. There are very few characters who manage to tick all three boxes and get away with it. Classic portrayals of Superman probably come the closest to making a perfect hero interesting, but it does speak to why Supes can be such a tricky character to write.

The problem with a character who scores highly in all three categories is that it usually means they don't have room to grow, and traditionally, stories are about growth and character change. Almost any genuine character flaw will take a person down a peg in one of these categories. If they're a slob, they probably aren't very pro-active. If they're impulsive, they probably make a lot of mistakes and wreck their competence. If they're sharp tongued and emotionally detached, they damage their in-universe lovability.

Especially with main characters, you tend to need two out of three. They need enough good qualities to propel the story forward, but enough weaknesses that they have something to learn. Combine the three basic qualities into pairs, and you get three basic types of heroes.

Pro-Active/Competent: The Classic Anti-Hero
Strengths: Motivated, skilled, can and does do all the awesome things.
Weaknesses: Mean, unconcerned with others, self-interested.
Growth arc: Learning to be better/value others/sacrifices for others
Examples: Sherlock Holmes, Gregory House, Katniss Everdeen, Tony Stark, Elphaba

Competent/Likable: The Reluctant Hero
Strengths: Capable and uses their strength for good, understanding others, empathy
Weaknesses: Wishy-washy, nervous, uncertain of their place in the world, victim of circumstance
Growth arc: Taking control of own life/destiny/accepting their role
Examples: Harry Potter, The Hulk, Peter Quill, Spiderman, Eleven, Belle

Likable/Pro-Active: The Everyman Hero
Strengths: Highly motivated to save the day, seeks adventure
Weaknesses: Frequently fails, out of their depth, self-doubt
Growth arc: Becoming the hero they are in their hearts/completing their "quest"
Examples: Captain America, Elle Woods, Derek Zoolander, Mulan, Moana

Of course, some of these are characters who have been written and rewritten so many times, it's difficult to point to any portrayal as definitive. And often, a series will transition a character from one category to another. Luke Skywalker starts Star Wars as something of an unskilled Jedi, who must learn to master his abilities. Once he has, his arc becomes about sacrificing for others and whether he can save those he loves, much more in line with the first category. Similarly, Tony Stark is a better person by Iron Man 3, so much of the movie involves stripping him of his super suit, and rendering him an Everyman.

Naturally, you can argue that these categories aren't anywhere close to describing all the possible variations on character, and I would agree that they're generalizations.

Still, if Meatloaf knows that two out of three ain't bad, who are we to argue?

Thursday, December 28, 2017

New Year, New Writer!

This is one of those blog posts that will probably hold more interest for me than anyone who regularly reads this blog. It calls into question why I'm posting it here, but I've come to realize that in the absence of a more traditional journal, this blog has taken the place of that for me. In fact, I've got a few pages of unpublished posts that are either too messy, too raw or too boring to make the cut as public posts, but they live on in my drafts folder as reminders of earlier ideas or thought processes. You could say I've hit that point in nerd evolution, where all my deep, personal thoughts come out as long form essays, but I digress.

Today, I want to talk about goal setting! New Years is one of my favorite holidays, even if I'm not doing anything for it. (I've got nothing but attending church planned for New Year's Eve this year. Woopwoop!) Mostly, it's because I'm a chronic goal setter, and I love that blank slate feel that a new year gives.



Further, I'm a firm believer that if you want to get anything done as a writer, you need to have some system for setting and fulfilling goals.

Making Time and Reason for Writing

When you are like me - unagented and unpublished, but striving to reach both those milestones - it can be very difficult to make time for writing, due to the absence of any external pressure to do those things. Currently, my income is not derived from my writing. Writing does not make my house any cleaner, feed my cats or fulfill my church assignments. It takes me away from my friends, and as we speak, writing this blog post is keeping me up past midnight. Whoops.

My passion for writing is my primary motivator that keeps me coming back. I love stories. I love creating. I would do some form of writing and creating no matter what in my life. But due to the other demands on my time, it's downright impossible to get anything substantial done in my writing without some coordinated effort. Those other things distract me and destroy my productivity, unless I  hit back.

To me, goals are the names we give our dreams. If I want to achieve those big picture dreams I have, like selling books and using that money to buy cat food, I need to give a name to each brush stroke of that picture. So today, I'm doing that.

Feel free to comment with some of your own New Year Resolutions! Like I said, I love this holiday, and when people tell me their goals, I feel like I'm learning what they named their little, baby dreams.

First, The Year in Review

Let's look at some of the things I achieved or learned this year! YES!
  • Joined an online writing group. Got my revision game back on. All the love to you, my Oddballs.
  • Attended the Storymakers Conference, where I:
    • Met some of the people in my online writing group. HEY GUYS!!!
    • Got my first page onto the First Impressions agent critique panel
    • Pitched an agent after said panel, didn't die, and got a request for pages
    • Subbed two stories to the first chapter contest
    • Finally understood what is meant by Deep 3rd Person POV 
    • Learned what a beat sheet is
    • Wrote about insulation, and was complimented on it by Allie Condie. Guys, I may never get over this one.
  • Endured the loss of Tuula Mantta and Miranda Leavitt, when they had the nerve to move away.
  • Resolved to make more friends. Forced people to watch Planet Earth II with me.
  • Took trips to Kelowna and Calgary, where I got to see Tuula and Miranda, keeping summer awesome. YES!
  • Realized my friends were a terrible influence on my writing habits. Sat down, and finally...
The SWEET PEE timeline
  • Started drafting a new manuscript, titled SWEET PEE - and yes, that's spelled correctly - for NaNoWriMo in November 2016. Got about 20,000 words in by November 9th.
  • On November 9th, started a new job, which destroyed my brain and productivity. Put the manuscript on the backburner until the New Year.
  • Wrote large amounts of the first draft on the bus, to and from work, due to time constraints. Learned the value of a light, small laptop.
  • Resolved to make more friends in April/May. Got terribly distracted. Failed to finish last 4th of book for several months.
  • Realized the deadline for the Pitch Wars writing contest was coming, and remembered that I wanted to enter. Banged out the last 4th of the first draft in the first week of August, and submitted to Pitch Wars August 4th.
  • Got into Pitch Wars August 24th! Spent the next two months revising the book with the help of my amazing mentor, Lianne Oelke. Check her out here!
  • Completed the polished manuscript in time for the October 31st deadline, making it almost exactly a year from sloppy, first words to query ready manuscript. Fastest turn around I've had on a manuscript to date!
And back to other lessons learned...
  • Realized during revisions that there is DEFINITELY such a thing as biting off more than you can chew.
  • Learned some things about comma placement and compound sentences that would likely make my poor Master's Thesis advisors weep for joy, knowing I've finally... improved. Slightly.
  • Started listening to the Writing Excuses podcast.
  • Bought some awesome Christmas decorations.
Whew! I honestly didn't expect the list to be that long when I started, but it's kind of nice to see the year captured like that. Of course, I'll be the first to admit that this version of events glosses over some of the angst and messiness that goes on behind the scenes, but this is New Years and it's a frickin' holiday, and I reserve the right to have a party. GO ME!!!

This Year's Goals
  • Complete another first draft of a manuscript - this might not seem very ambitious in light of the turn around on my last book, but I am "between ideas" right now, and so it's hard to commit to getting something all the way past the editing stage when nothing is on the page yet. I'm between several different ideas, all appealing in different ways. We'll see where I go.
  • Draft 10,000 words in January - Again, I could be more ambitious in terms of word count, but the real goal lurking here is PICK AN IDEA AND WRITE ABOUT IT!!!
  • Send 100 query letters during the year - or get an agent. One can hope.
  • Send 20 query letters in January - right now I'm itching to do this, so it shouldn't be too hard.
  • Read more books - while I got a LOT of writing done in 2017, my reading suffered a bit. I'm trying to make up lost time right now while I'm between ideas. Still settling on a realistic yearly/monthly reading goal. 
  • Attend Storymakers again and maybe a second conference/writing retreat - anything additional will depend on finances, but I am SO STOKED for Storymakers! Anyone who writes and can get to Provo, Utah in May should absolutely check it out.
  • Start a Bullet Journal - guys, I am so excited about this. I've been reading up on them, and I think it could be really useful for me. I've been feeling like I want to a) do more journaling again b) start using a sketch book again and c) try and make a day planner work. But the idea of trying to do all three at once sounds insane. I like how a bullet journal can kind of grab from all three of those things at once. Like, guys! It's a journal/planner you get to DRAW IN!!! I just have to keep reminding myself that it's okay that I have terrible penmanship. I'm in it for the organizing/better documented memories/excuse to draw pictures. Pictures. Not pretty penmanship and headers. That's what I've got to focus on. Anyhow, if anyone out there uses one and has tips/spreads they use (especially any for organizing writing goals or LDS church callings) let me know!
And there you have it! My writing recap for 2017, and my writing goals for 2018. Here's hoping for another good year.