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Did you read Ashley Cope’s Unsounded, like I asked you to?

If you did, you’ll have doubtlessly found what I did when the goons brought it to my attention: a magical world wrought with wonder and mysticism that builds without overbearing, an incredibly deep relationship between two misfits that both repulses and attracts, an undercurrent of danger and depravity that courses through the entire story, expertly paced.

If you didn’t, then I hate you.

But, I digress…

Unsounded follows the adventures of Sette, a feral, foul-mouthed child thief, as she is escorted through the land by her unwilling companion, the Galit Duane: spellwright, good Aldishman, zombie.  It’s also a comic I marvel at for its ability to get just about everything right.  A light read-through will reveal Ashley Cope’s distinct talent for fantasy writing: likable characters, magic that is actually wondrous and societies as bizarre as the creatures that live in the wildernesses alongside them.  But a deeper look will reveal that this comic has an amazing grasp on craft: pacing, worldbuilding, exposition and character relationships are handled with much more finesse than you would expect from your average comic.

Ms. Cope agreed, at my whining plea, to talk about this craft with me.  I hope you enjoy what I had to ask and what she had to say.

So, it’s essentially mandated that any fantasy debate at least include the topics of world building and magic systems.  I’ve often thought of them as largely hazardous concepts when people focus exclusively on them and neglect aspects like character and conflict, but one of the things I really enjoy about Unsounded is that the magic and the world’s details are expertly paced.  We get a glimpse into a magical world filled with wonder and its societies as they pertain to the story.

How much of that is deliberate and how much of it is whimsy?  By that, I mean, are these societies and details mapped out and deliberately seeded throughout the story?  Or is it sort of a case of “wouldn’t it be cool if we had a giant walking tree monster…how can I put that in?”  What do you prefer working with?

Balancing world information with narrative is one of the most difficult things about working in fantasy, and I’ll hurl that challenge at any author who scoffs at the genre. It’s particularly difficult in comics. A fantasy novel can dump paragraph upon paragraph of setting information, and detail even complex systems pretty thoroughly right off. A comic is limited, essentially, to character dialogue; character dialog that eats up precious page space and which has to be used with great discerning and economy.

For that reason, all of the setting details and where they are revealed in Unsounded are very deliberately mapped out. I could fill up a wiki with the amount of information I’ve developed for the comic’s world but I’ve tried very hard to keep unimportant details off the page so far. Editing out irrelevant details is what I actually have the most problems with. Some details, however, serve a character-building or thematic role on occasion. The wandering root was not only a fun and unexpected monster – its empathic nature allowed it to serve as a visual manifestation of Duane and Sette’s relationship. Perhaps it’s foreboding that Duane had to violently put it down. The shrines and statues of gods seen on occasion are often pictured where the actual interference of gods to protect innocents would be expected – but that interference doesn’t come. The giant dogs represent the defeat of leisure and fealty by the capitalist demands of poorly compensated labour– haha, no, that’s a lie. Who doesn’t like giant dogs?

Speaking of pacing, we should probably address just how well Unsounded accomplishes this.  It has a real flair for blending the details of the world in with the characters’ own stories and keeping up the suspense.  Nothing really feels like you’re doing things just to do them.

I suppose it relates back to the question of planning versus growing, save that it’s a question of how much do you reveal about each character and the world and in what order?  Are there some characters that require a lot of fleshing out and exposition?  Or are you comfortable leaving the reader to make their own assumptions?

Thank you! Pacing is really difficult for anyone but in webcomics, I believe how you post the pages can be just as important as what’s on the pages. If you have five pages that flow together and depict one important action or one slowly shifting tone or mood, you MUST post those pages together. Be a professional, care about your story, plan ahead, and get those pages done so that you can post them in a way that benefits your pacing. So many great scenes in so many webcomics have been diminished because of a poorly thought-out posting schedule. Dramatic webcomics must overcome this strict one-page-at-a-time hurdle and the even worse post-when-you-feel-like-it hurdle.

That mini-rant aside, I believe that fleshing out a character can be done with real brevity if you do plan and trust your readers to squint between the lines. Sette, for instance, is intolerable. I don’t expect anyone to like her much, but I’ve painted the whole of her background already for anyone who cares to look. I didn’t do this by giving her a tear-ridden soliloquy – just explained the rough logistics of her background, who her dad is, and showed a few flashes of what life may be like for her back home. Her personality itself and how she treats people hopefully hammers home what’s always been expected of her and how she’s been raised. She’s not an obnoxious imp because I think that’s cute and endearing. In giving her so much page time I have to ask for a lot of trust from the reader. She’s been a risky character from page one.

Epic fantasy is always difficult to pace. Most authors seem to find the solution in starting off small. Everyone knows the Hero’s Journey model. It’s a little played out though, isn’t it? Maybe the protagonists shouldn’t be heroes. Maybe the story should start with the characters already in the middle of a journey. I won’t always succeed with what I do but I hope I always at least crash and burn in interesting ways.

Another tremendous aspect of Unsounded are the changes of tone that so well serve to reveal aspects of the world and characters that aren’t apparent or wouldn’t be talked about in natural conversation (Duane’s communion with the summoned beast comes to mind).  The changes in tone really bring about another mood to the scenes before us, ramping up tension and turning it into horror.

A lot of this is accomplished by the sudden changes in artistic style, of course, but what do you do in terms of writing?  In the previous example, we go further into Duane’s head than we ever have.  Is it all an opportunity to delve further into the characters’ minds?  Do you have any questions you ask yourself or techniques you practice to reach the mood you want to?

Generally when it comes to mood I try to keep my themes in mind, and I try to always interpret the visuals and the narrative through the lens of the currently pertinent character. For instance, most of the first chapter is a manic, cartoony and exaggerated romp. It’s Sette’s chapter. It only turns more morose when Duane’s rattled by what he finds inside the tree monster, and later when Sette’s hurt. Chapter 2, after the gloomy opening scene, is still under Sette’s thrall up until the scene you mentioned, when Duane is struck by his own similarity to the summoned beast and forcefully commandeers the mood and the narrative for a few pages. I let the art and his dialog reflect this. Again it asks for trust from the reader because it’s a shift towards the angsty, and pretty different from what they’ve been seeing, but I believe if you’ve made the reader care about the characters – not necessarily relate to them but care about them – you can get away with a shift like this.

It’s safe to say, being a fan of the comic, I’m a fan of Sette and Duane’s relationship.  Beyond just the clever banter and genuine moments of affection between them, though, the relationship becomes a character unto itself: an antagonist, really.

I know from experience it’s a lot to ask of readers to like two characters who don’t like each other (and possibly themselves).  But what do you do?  Ever have any moments where you look at an exchange between them and cringe, thinking “well, that’s too much?”  Is it an excuse to push the reader a little?

Oh, you have no idea. The pages I’m producing right now are about eighty pages beyond what’s been posted, and I’m still battling the monster that is Sette and Duane’s relationship. It’s obviously not a monster that’s going to be decapitated on one page – readers hate easy victories – but how much of Sette’s abuse and Duane’s stubbornness can the narrative tolerate? It’s not easy and I’m editing dialog right down to the minute a page goes live.

I think there’s naturally an expectation that they’ll reconcile their differences – that Sette will either grow up or Duane will drop his posturing and sink more to her level. A reconciliation has to happen but how it does so and what happens to complicate it are hopefully driving mysteries of the story.

Beyond Sette and Duane’s relationship, the strip’s central antagonist so far seems to be the Red Berry Boys, whose plot we’re still not sure of beyond its absolute horror.  I can attest that there’s an immensely unnerving scene involving a small girl.

The topic of what’s necessary and what’s edgy for the sake of edginess comes up a lot in fiction, particularly fantasy.  People occasionally wonder and constantly argue over whether traumatic acts like rape or murder serve a purpose beyond attempting to shock the reader.  Where do you stand on this?  Under what circumstances is it okay to cross that line?  Or is the fact that it’s not okay the entire reason to do it?  To shock?  Or to talk about the issue?  Or to establish character?

When that “immensely unnerving scene” was first posted it received a mix of reactions. Some readers did think it was exploitative but I don’t roll that way. What I was trying to do was a chiaroscuro contrast of tones between two girls. Sette’s extreme and manic, almost cartoonish personality contrasted with Cara’s bleak, brief, bloody scenes. That contrast was, to me, what really made that “unnerving scene” so jarring. From the first page of the comic I was setting up a tonal expectation in the reader and anticipating shattering it.

I think all the reasons you suggested are valid reasons to go explicit though. An author shouldn’t ignore any tool in their toolbox, no matter how unsavoury. Not every author is very skilled at using those tools though. I know there are a lot of comic book readers (including me) sick of writers playing the rape card. That doesn’t make rape an inviable character motivation but it does seem to mean there are a lot of writers out there who really suck at dealing with it.

I often find myself at a crossroads when it comes to magic.  I despise the concept of “magic systems” being the crux of a story and I also loathe the wave-away answer of “magic is magic.”  I’m pleased that Unsounded has avoided both of these by creating something with clear rules and ritual, but also by having just enough unexplained that it’s still wondrous.

Which do you lean more toward?  Magic being something inexplicable or magic being something hard and fast?  How much do you think you could push a reader in one direction or the other?

I’m a huge Doctor Strange/classic Marvel magic fan. That means I don’t have too much of a problem with loose magic rules. One of the reasons fantasy is so enduring is the presence of magic and the supernatural – keen stuff we don’t have in the real world. I think I can’t get too into scifi because it often wants the magician to explain the magic tricks. I don’t need to see the man behind the curtain.

But! That’s just personal preference. I realise vague magic is a dangerous thing in a story and Unsounded actually has a very detailed system with its own rules and internal logic. Of course it hasn’t been explained yet because it’s not important yet, but it’s a departure from element-based systems. There is a magic battle in Chapter 5 wherein some of the mysteries of the arts are cleared up. Still, there are certain Big Questions I don’t believe it’s ever right to answer in a story. It is presumptuous and preachy.

Finally, what influences you?  It’s safe to say that Unsounded is pretty marvelously unique, but what’s inspired you?  Or are there any comics, literature or other media that you just like?

I love Herman Melville. I’m one of those fans who can tell you his childrens’ names and the date of his death and the name of the whaling ship he worked on. His novels have always driven me.

I like an eclectic mix of comics. Though Miyazaki, Range Murata, and Mahiro Maeda are some of my favourite artists ever,  I’m less enthusiastic towards manga than a lot of webcomickers out there. I like Alan Moore because he’s a reminder that symbolism and the metaphysical are okay in comics that also have punching and tentacles. Jeff Smith and Ross Campbell are amazing draftsman. Sam Kieth’s imagination is deadly. Gurihiru Studios does some mighty fine work

I find video games (Vagrant Story, Bioshock, and the Legacy of Kain series are favourites) and classic horror films are great ways to unwind. There is nothing in my life more detrimental to Unsounded’s page buffer than addictive video games. Arkham Asylum was eating chapter 4 for a while!

And that’s it!

I hope you enjoyed the shit out of this interview and continue to enjoy the shit out of Unsounded.

Because if you don’t, I will go Green Mile on you.

ARC GIVEAWAY ENTRIES: Fourteen “One Good Reason” entries, Two “Draw This Dog” entries, Two “Make This Face” entries.  Two weeks left!  C’mon, yo!  Enter now or I’ll pee on you!

…right, then.

First of all, because I told you to, look at this.  I’ve recently been taken on to do a monthly column for BSC Review.  This month’s is on the Future of Urban Fantasy, that genre which, through the work and dedication of various creative talents who subverted and twisted a tired genre into their own, has brought happiness and pleasure to millions who would otherwise never touch it.

As you well know, happiness makes me physically and violently ill.  Hence, this column is largely about me spewing bitterness upon people whose own personal fulfillment I take as a personal offense.

Moving on…

I have discovered a new webcomic that I would like to share with you.

Unsounded by Ashley Cope is a story that would be a rare feat in a novel, let alone a webcomic.  It’s one of those stories that just gets everything right: likable characters without sacrificing conflict, conflict that is deep without being edgy for the sake of shock, magic that has that intense sense of wonder and a world that is richly and deeply developed without pushing it onto the reader like Gandalf’s coke dealer.

I really, really like this comic.  To the point that I’m doing an interview with Ms. Cope this weekend, similar to what I did with The Meek’s Der-Shing Helmer.  I hope you’ll all read in preparation of such an event!

And speaking of art…

You remember the Lost Pages, right?  How would you like a sneak peek of the next ones coming out for Black Halo? Here.  Have a look at the entry for one of the newer characters, Naxiaw.

Greenshicts are creatures of legend.  Not in the sense that they’re made-up tales to scare children into behavior, but more in the sense that the tales revolving around them are completely true and terrify every sensible adult just as well as they do children.  We know a fair amount about the reclusive tribes: they hail from the southern jungles, they are the only tribes of shict to have ever beaten back human incursion and they are exceedingly fond of driving that point home.  Usually at the end of a big, heavy stick.  For some of the most reclusive and rare shicts in the world, we know a surprising amount about them.  But I suppose that’s the entire point of legend, isn’t it?

Pretty nice, right?  The sketches were done by my good friend, Michael Lee Lunsford.  Expect much more in the days to come!

Okay, good, we are all pleased, right?  Thank you and come again!

Before I go any further, let’s discuss the Current ARC Giveaway Contest.  Currently, there are twelve entries for one good reason, two for draw this dog and ZERO for make this face.  Basically, anyone with a camera could get this ARC.  What the heck, people.  You think I’m just going to roll my shoulders and say, “oh well, at least you little dearies tried your best, here have this arc.”  NO.  This ARC goes NOWHERE until someone makes a Rothfuss face!  NOWHERE!  AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGH!

…anyway: John Rabe.

If you don’t know who he is, you really should.  And if you haven’t ever read this book, you really should.  This is one of the most important stories of World War II, if only because it’s a clear demonstration as to how even the ugliest of horrors can be covered up, forgotten and ignored.

Essentially, the movie follows history fairly faithfully: in 1937, the Japanese Army invades China and conquers the city of Nanking.  After the city’s surrender, a six-week massacre follows in which the citizens of Nanking are pillaged, murdered, raped and tortured in a brutal conquest.  An international safety zone is established by Nanking’s foreign nationals and headed by John Rabe, a member of the National Socialist Party of Germany.  A Nazi.  For six weeks, he used his influence and his swastika to influence and protect the citizens of Nanking, housing them in his own back yard when there was no more room in the hospital and girls’ college.  Toward the end, as Japanese soldiers jumped the walls with ever-growing daring, Rabe was pulling them off of the girls they were attacking.  Eventually, the massacre ends and Rabe returns home to Germany to be arrested by the Gestapo, told never to speak of the incident to anyone and, later, he dies in poverty.

Iris Chang’s book, linked above, comes heavily recommended as a complete account of what happened.  The movie remains (mostly) faithful to its history, though there’s a certain Hollywood factor involved that ultimately cheapens it, I think.

To state the positive: this was a film that needed to be made.  It’s an incident people need to be aware of, if only because it’s not widely known already.  The script is faithful, the acting is wonderfully done and they cover a lot of the more gruesome incidents of the massacre (such as the decapitation contests between Japanese officers) without glamorizing or sensationalizing the gore.  Ultimately, it’s an excellent movie that deserves watching and I recommend it wholeheartedly.

I mention this now only because the negative aspects of the movie are going to be the means of discussing an issue I have and, thus, are going to take a little longer to talk about.  I want to make this clear so it’s evident I’m not bashing the movie.

I mentioned the Hollywood factor earlier and, given that it’s basically the root of every issue this movie has, it deserves a definition.  Basically, the Hollywood factor, as I see it, is the removal of meaning or mood by means of overemphasizing or exaggerating the drama into outspoken or exuberant displays.  When a man looks at his dead wife and, instead of just staring blankly, numb with shock, falls to his knees and screams “NOOOOOOO,” that’s the Hollywood factor.  When a character of interest is killed via a five-minute-long scene of choking and gurgling as the blood fills his mouth, rather than just giving us the single, fleeting shot of someone we loved disappearing forever, that’s the Hollywood factor.

To be more specific to the film (semi-spoiler alert, though if you know the history, you probably won’t think it much):

At the end, when Rabe leaves Nanking, he is greeted by crowds of grateful Chinese refugees who survived the slaughter, clapping and cheering and chanting his name.  They look utterly exuberant.  This is roughly the point where I lost my sense in the film.

Perhaps it’s just because I was more intimate with the history, but I felt rather disconnected from the tragedy at this point.  This was not just a bad couple of days for Nanking, this was a massacre. Men were lined up for mass executions.  Civilians were rounded up and used as sport for killing competitions between ruthless officers.  Women were violated in so many ways it’s tasteless to recount them here.  When the commanding Japanese officer made it to the site of the carnage, he fell to his knees and wept.  Nearly every national involved in the safety zone later committed suicide over what they had witnessed.

This was not the sort of conflict people just walked away from.

I mention this because, as ever, there is something to learn here, even for us fantasy writers.

We talk about fantasy as escapism often and when we think of it, I imagine we think of the ending scene of Return of the King (the first one of twenty, at least), in which everyone stands and dances and celebrates their victory over the hated orcs and the end to the war that claimed thousands of lives.  That ending point is what we’re supposed to focus on.

Fantasy can be escapism, sure, but that doesn’t mean it has to be disingenuous.  The fact that so many fantasy characters easily recover from their mental wounds is what leads to the cheapening of the conflict.  The war seems less like something that was real and more like an unpleasant time that is easily swept under the rug.  The hero recovers easily and we’re no longer invested in him, because shit, everything is sunshine and daisies for him at this point.

Keep in mind, this is all fine if what you’re trying to write is exactly that.  Many authors have done well with that sort of story.  And, as ever, any rule I offer is ultimately trumped by what you, the writer, envision for your story.  You don’t need to write a gritty angsty livejournal entry of a story where every fart is a betrayal of trust and every time someone brushes up against the main character’s shoulder it takes years to recover from the mental anguish.

But if you want to establish that mood, that raw grit, that conflict that lingers, then keep in mind that not everyone cheers after a war.

See the movie.

Read the book.

Take a picture of yourself as Patrick Rothfuss.

Peace.