Chekhov's Gun

Chekhov's Gun is a literary device, named after the short story writer Anton Chekhov. Chekhov felt that any object put into the story must be used later on, or else there's no point to it. The phrase "Chekhov's Gun" comes from a line from a letter Chekhov sent, "One must not put a loaded rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it."

Chekhov's gun has come to mean a seemingly trivial detail that will be of the utmost importance later on, or an object that the book lingers on just barely, only to later use it to save the day. When properly used, this device can be seen as cunning or inventive, but it can get to predictable levels. In James Bond, for example, all of the gadgets that quartermaster "Q" gives Bond will later be used, with all their described functions, to get Bond out of a specific mess. Due to this happening in every single movie (with the exception of "Goldeneye"), it's become rather stale.

Certain book and TV series are notorious for this; Harry Potter has quite a lot of Chekhov's Guns. In the second book, Dumbledore introduces Fawkes the Phoenix and spends five minutes recounting the many uses of the Phoenix species - heavy lifting, bravery, healing tears - all of which are used in the final scene. Fawkes is something of a Mary Sue that way. Scabbers, Ron's seemingly docile rat, and Dumbledore's "Putter-Outer" are both Chekhov's Guns.

Chekhov's Gun, I find, is best when used in moderation. It's a useful technique, but use it too much and your readers will start poring over every little detail, thinking that everything mentioned will be important later.

A Death to be Remembered

Just as death is a huge part of human life, death is one of the most important tools in a writer's arsenal. Death can be poignant, epic, sad, happy, climactic, anti-climactic, and everything in between, but most of all, death is strong. A message will resonate if accompanied by a death.

Now, death cannot be casually used. If readers feel that a death is mishandled, they could leave the story with a bad taste in their mouths. A meaningless death of a treasured character will leave your reading audience very unhappy.

For death to have an impact, you have to be connected with the one who died. Introduce a character and kill him off the next page. Who cares about him? But once the audience has gotten to know a character, really started to empathize with him/her, that's when it hurts. The bond with the character leads to grief for his/her death, and if well done, leads to strong storytelling.

Sometimes it's the shock of a sudden death that really hits the reader. An unexpected assassination, a sudden and fatal betrayal, will at first stun the reader, then get them searching through the following pages for answers.

Other times, it's the satisfaction of a death well spent: a sacrifice to hold off the enemies just long enough for allies to escape, or a last stand to decimate the enemy's army. If the character dies doing the right thing, it leaves the reader with a sort of melancholy happiness.

Dying the way the character always wanted to go out can leave the reader feeling satisfied too. A barbarian, convinced that the only way to go to Valhalla is to perish in combat, meets his demise battling to the death. A sailor, lover of his ship and the sea, dies happy along with his trusty vessel, sinking slowly to a watery grave.

Sometimes a poorly handled death can kill a story. I've read stories where the best character, the one that really makes the story work, dies halfway through the novel. The rest of the novel feels hollow and a lot less fun as a result.

A villain can go from unlikable cad to despicable devil by killing a character. Consider it a form of villain forming; nothing says evil like cold blood killing.

Death is a fundamental part of human life, and is also a core device in writing. Use it well and use it smartly, and it could transform your story.

Licensed Novels

When I say licensed novels, I mean books that make use of an already established world. Star Wars books, Superman books, even Looney Tunes books, they're all licensed novels.

Sometimes licensed novels are surprisingly good, and other times they read like a piece of bad fan-fiction. While conventional books are judged by creativity, licensed novels are judged by their use of the setting. If you're reading a Star Wars book and think "Wow, this really feels like it takes place in the Star Wars universe!" it's a successful licensed novel. If you read a Star Wars book and think "Bogus! A hutt would never act like that!" then the writer did not properly capture the setting, and thus has failed. That writer will get no cookie today.

Books often have tools that other mediums don't. Books can get inside a character's head, something movies fail to do (unless you're watching Alfie). Books can also put in exposition, another something that movies cannot do. This is why there are licensed novels, because sometimes, you just need a book to get the job done.

Return of the King (Blogger)

It's been a few months since I've posted here. Let me brush away the dust that's gathered...

I have a tidy to-do list here. Let me read it out:

1. Keep making new posts.

2. Clean up some old posts, or maybe just completely redo them.

3. Travel through Europe.

Number one and two will get done soon. Number three will take a while.

The war of the entertainment industry

You're in the entertainment industry, story-writers. Unless you're writing stories for release to your pet dog or something, which is frankly insane. I bet he won't even follow the main plot.

You want to keep your audience there. You may be doing a story flowing with culture, religion, and deep philosophy. But that doesn't mean it has to be boring.

Each time a reader's attention wanes, that's a chance that they'll set down this book. "Forget this, I'll just shoot something in a videogame." We're in a war here, soldier. War against the rest of the entertainment industry. Television, computers, videogame consoles. All of these are hurting us. Why read a book about blowing up aliens when you can blow up aliens?

The answer is, books have depth. Books have the creative license. And finally, books are the master of imagination. Think of when you read a book. You picture the characters in your head, however loosely. And when the movie comes out, you're dumbfounded. "Does Snape really look like that?" Books have the power to twist to your ideas. I think of Middle-Earth as a misty, mysterious and dangerous land. Someone I know thinks of Middle-Earth with vibrant colors, forests and lush plains. And we both like our idea, and they both fit into the book.

Books can plumb the depth of the human mind like no other medium. Telivision shows feature people experienced in the subject, giving their wise opinions. Videogames are a limited medium; perhaps they will develop, but at the moment they are a poor medium for deep thinking. All of these are fine in their own ways. But books rule because of the endless possibilities of a blank page. Because with that page, you have complete freedom. You can do whatever the heck you want.

That's my case. I assure, I'm correct in my own space/mind.

Plagiarism

Originality is what you're striving for. You want people to go, "Wow, I've never considered the idea that moths are aliens sent to slowly deprive the human race of clothing so they freeze to death!" Or something of the sort.

You'll take flack when you do something that isn't original. For example, I'll string up a few striking similarities between Eragon and Star Wars. (note: story spoilers below)

A farmer (Luke Skywalker, Eragon) on the edge of an evil empire (the Empire, the Empire) led by an emperor (Emperor Palpatine, Emperor Galbatorix) lives with his uncle (Owen, Garrow). He is taught by a knight of a long-lost order (Obi-wan Kenobi, Brom) , learning how to move things with his mind (the Force, magic). He must save the princess (Leia, Arya). His trainer knight is slain in a battle with (Darth Vader, the Ra'zac), so he must join the rebels (the Rebel Alliance, the Varden) against the Empire to avenge him.

In the second (book, movie), he meets up with a wise old guru (Yoda, Oromis), learning more of (the Force, magic). In the end, in a showdown with (Darth Vader, Murtagh) it is revealed that he is his (father, half-brother).

So yeah, stealing other writer's work is a bad thing. However, there's a loophole.

If you steal from other authors, you're a dirty idea-stealing weasel. But if you steal from real life events, you're praised!

Now, don't be too blatant with the well-known stuff. No Trojan Horses, or anything. But there's a lot of history to grab on to. The Mongolian Horde, the Trojan War, the Roman Empire. Incorporate some things from them. You'll be a history scholar, and a good writer too! 

In the beginning

In the beginning, there was nothing.

And then there was literature.

And then God came in at some point, I don't know.

I'm talking about the beginning of your story. The hook of your line and sinker. The first gunshot of your war. The first chord in your symphony.

There are different types of beginnings. There's the "story hook", where something happens that sets the story in motion. Such as, the princess being captured, or someone being murdered. As someone rolls the snowball down the hill, it sets the stage to grow and grow.

Then there's a the character introduction opener. It features one of your main characters showing off his personality, so the reader gets acquainted as soon as possible.

I'll use some examples here. In Indiana Jones, it starts with Indy going on an iconic dungeon crawl. It sets the scene for the rest of the movie, with Indy swinging with his whip and sneaking through traps.

In Lord of the Rings, it starts with some juicy backstory. It tells the story of how the One Ring came into existence, and who we're fighting here, Sauron. A type of opening is something set in the past, explaining something.

Also, who's your audience? Some will want a exciting hook, something to quickly get them interested. Some would like a slow opening that expands the story. You're the caterer, and you need to know whether to serve tiny olives with sticks in them or B-B-Q.

Well, enough with the metaphors. I'm like a semi-automatic machine gun that can't stop rattling off.