Last year I wrote in this post about some of my pet peeves in fiction, and I wanted to make this post a counterpart and discuss some of my favourite things in fiction ... but all I could think of were more pet peeves. So here is a second round of annoyances, and perhaps one day I will be able to think of some more positive things.
Prophecy. The Chosen One is prophesied to do something or other, and often the exact nature of the prophecy barely matters: the point is that someone is Chosen by something — probably destiny, which I ranted about in the previous post of this nature. But who makes these prophecies? Where do the prophecies come from? How are they communicated? Does someone write them down in Ye Massive Notebooke Of Prophecies That We Fulley Expecte To Come Trewe? Why do people believe them? How many are there? What happens if prophecies clash, or seem mutually exclusive? What happens if a prophecy is proven wrong? Who determines whether a prophecy has been proven wrong or if it simply hasn't come true yet or if it was misinterpreted in the first place, and how? Prophecy as a trope typically seems to be used merely to spackle over holes in plots and premises, but if I think about it for five seconds it invariably raises more questions than it answers.
Vows broken for shock value or comedy. You've heard of Chekhov’s Gun; I now present to you:
- Chekhov's Virgin (this character will not be by the end of the story)
- Chekhov's Vegetarian/Vegan (this character will break from their diet by the end of the story)
- Chekhov's Vows Of Celibacy (said vows will be broken by the end of the story) (Actually, this could simply be called "Chekhov's Vow": any vow made or mentioned within the story is at high risk of being broken)
- Chekhov's "I Don’t Like Children" (the character who says this will be forced to interact positively with children by the end of the story)
- Chekhov's "I Will Never In A Million Years Do That" (the character who says this will, by the end of the story, absolutely have "done that")
I dislike this trend, for several reasons. It cheapens the vows, particularly when they are broken easily and without consequence. It feels like denying characters agency: the character states that they do not want to do a thing, so the author snickers and deliberately makes them do the thing. I am aware that fictional characters are fictional and therefore cannot be bullied, but for readers who have been bullied or teased for being or saying any of the abovementioned things, it is upsetting to see narratives inflicting on fictional people what real people have inflicted on them, the readers, in real life. It often seems like the author is deliberately inviting the reader to laugh at the character for having the audacity to make vows, or state firm preferences; as though we, the readers, are being expected to join in the mockery. Moreover, it is, of course, transparent and predictable: the moment a character declares that they don't care for children, I brace myself for the arrival of their interactions with children.
The Girl™. "Here is our cast of main characters! They all have personalities! We have an aloof, serious one, a sensitive, hotheaded one, a charming, roguish one, and a girl. That's it: that's her personality: she is a girl. What does she do? What does she want? Well, she's a girl, so she falls in love with one of the main characters, because that's what girls are for. Her motivation in the story is that she has a crush on one of the male characters, because girls never want anything besides romance. She doesn't need to participate in the plot or have any character development: she's a girl."
"They'll be okay. They're a fighter." This is invariably spoken, with intent to reassure, when the protagonist, or a supporting character, is ill, injured, or unconscious. It bothers me for multiple reasons. Firstly, we are all fighters. Everyone who has survived their life up to this point is a fighter. "He's a fighter" — and you're not? I'm not? His great-great-great-great-grandmother was not? Secondly, being a fighter or being tenacious is no guarantee that anyone will be okay. There are plenty of people who fight for their lives and lose. I have known people who seemed indestructible and endlessly vivacious, right up until they suddenly fell ill and died within a week. They fought to live, and fighting did not save them. Everyone is a fighter in some way, and being a fighter will not make you okay.
Unconvincing or unnecessary romance. I could write an entire thesis on why most romantic subplots in fiction are ghastly, but it would just be infuriating. Romantic love saves the day/world! (Despite the fact that, in context, it should not be able to!) This character is incomplete without romantic love! This character who met their love interest two days ago is now ready to marry them and will be miserable forever without this person they met two days ago! Romantic love is not magic; it is not the be-all and end-all of everything; people — real or fictional — who are without it and/or are not interested in it are not incomplete or lacking in any way; and it is not the same as attraction.
Unrealistic injuries. I once read a conventionally published fiction book in which a horse took three arrows to the belly. The horse not only survived but required zero medical attention and the arrow wounds were never mentioned again. The narrative gave them all the consideration of mosquito bites. In reality, a single arrow embedding itself in the belly of a horse could be fatal and would require immediate expert medical attention and probably surgery. Even a grazing wound or a nick should have been inspected and treated. If your character gets shot or stabbed or even badly bruised, there should be consequences. Any kind of breakage or sprain could require months of treatment and rehabilitation, and the body part may never be the same again; moreover, other parts of the body often suffer under the strain of compensating for, and preserving, the injured part: for example, if the left ankle is injured, the right knee and hip joints may be strained or even damaged from having to take the full weight of the body, and the spine — including the neck — may become misaligned due to the stress of limping. If you're going to injure your characters, either treat the injuries realistically or explain how they were magically healed two days later.
Super-rapid skill gain. It takes years to become good at longbow archery. It takes years to become good at weaving, swordfighting, herbal medicine, piloting, horseriding, speaking a language, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera; and even after a certain level of skill has been reached, mistakes will still occur. People who have been studying Spanish for three years will still have misunderstandings, forget words, and make grammatical slips. Natural talent is helpful, but it is not a substitute for practice, tutoring, or experience. If a character suddenly becomes a skilled archer, surgeon, or mathematician in the span of three days, I want a very convincing explanation as to how.
