Stakes in Fiction

 I am back from YALLFest! And I am behind on everything except my word count for National Novel Writing Month. I need to post a movie review, write and post another one, read some more, and on top of everything I am feeling a bit under the weather. I should be fine by Thanksgiving, but I’d very much like to feel better now, D’Arvit.

Anyhow, at least I’m re-reading The Aeronaut’s Windlass, and I’ve forgotten what great fun it is!

Stakes in Fiction

The first panel I attended at YALLFest was about “contemporary fiction”; that is, fiction set in the modern day, in more or less the real world, without speculative (fantasy, science-fiction, horror) elements. Sometimes this is termed “literary fiction” by some people, but sometimes they use that term for genre fiction they think is good, unlike the rest that they hate. “Contemporary fiction” is much less pretentious-sounding, so I like it. One thing that they talked about on this panel was how the stakes are different in this, rather than in genre fiction, especially for teens and young adults. The protagonist isn’t trying to save the world, but you (hopefully) care about his or her struggles because the author has made you care about them, as mundane as they may be.

It reminds me of something my writing professor told me as an undiegrad: “A plot can be as simple as a cigarette on the floor.” He then admitted that the first time he said that to a group of students, he decided he needed to try writing that to test the idea, so he wrote a short story centered around that. 

Contemporary fiction has smaller, more personal stakes. These protagonists’ problems are going to be about personal issues, rather than big ones like the fates of large masses of people or something like that. 

Of course, genre fiction should also have personal stakes. I think it’d be very boring to read about a protagonist who had no personal problems whatsoever. Ideally, the outward struggle for the hero to save the world or the universe or fight the demons or what-have-you also connects to the character’s inner struggle. This is why you have so many fantasy protagonists with family issues or saving their love interests–it’s easier to connect those inner struggles.

The problem with some genre fiction comes, of course, when the personal stakes become more urgent than the actual, important Plot stakes. Characters will become more interested in who does or doesn’t love them, or whether they have parental approval, instead of defeating the Evil Overlord, overthrowing tyranny, or stopping the blight or whatever. You would think the safety of the world and its people come first; you’re wrong.

YA fiction has a reputation for this, though it’s hardly the only genre that the problem has come up in. How many action movies for grown-ups have you seen where the main characters are willing to risk everything for a love interest they’ve only just met, at the risk of the world?

Part of this leads into the problem that I alluded to earlier: a boring protagonist with no personal stakes. In avoiding this, some writers go way too hard in the emotional arcs that they don’t realize that they’re… really dumb to emphasize it over the actual Plot. To be clear, it’s not that these things aren’t important, but they’re not as urgent as the main Plot.

The worst example I can think of (which I don’t think will offend anyone I know) is the An Ember in the Ashes series. It’s a grimdark fantasy world, in which there is an oppressive empire and one of the leads is going undercover for the resistance as a slave in the imperial military academy… and an inordinate amount of time is dedicated to how she’s falling in love with the male lead, or also this guy from the resistance. The sequel is even worse in this regard, as she’s on the run, but can’t help but think about her feelings and act on them when they’re hiding from enemy troops. The male lead is just as bad.

It’s really dumb.

You can have personal stakes! Those are definitely important. But if you read a book, there’s a good chance you’re interested in the Plot, and it can be infuriating when the characters are more interested in making out than they are in saving the world. You’ve got bigger problems than whether or not that guy likes you back! You’ve got more important things you should be concerned with.

Sadly, that’s often all that the characters are concerned with. Again, this works better in contemporary fiction, when those are all the stakes–not so much in genre, when the Plot is going on.

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