Not a
pop-culture reference to the title of a Middleman episode.
But it
could’ve been...
So sorry
I’m behind in the ranty blog. Between
finishing the new manuscript and Texas Frightmare, the past few weeks have been
a blur. I think I’m back on schedule
now, though, and you should be getting very regular posts for the next few
weeks.
I was trying
to come up for a term for the idea I wanted to get across this week, and my
girlfriend suggested the Scooby Ambiguity.
Which fit perfectly and also helped me structure my little rant. As before, I’m hoping this becomes a
standard term in storytelling.
Allow me to
explain.
I’m sure
most of you reading this are familiar with the basic plot of a Scooby-Doo episode. The gang rolls into town and encounters some
kind of ghost or monster, usually three or four times. Then Velma finds some clues, applies some deductive reasoning, and reveals the ancient mummy to be Dr. Najib, the
museum currator, in a disguise.
(For the
record, there’s a fantastic article about Scooby Doo and secular humanism over here at Comics Alliance. No,
really. It’s also makes some brilliant
observation about character and setting, so check it out.)
Now, every
now and then, in a Scooby episode or another story structured like it, we’ll
have a moment of confusion, often near the end.
We’ll get one fact that doesn’t match up. If Dr. Najib was in the costume... then
who was the mummy we saw in the old tomb? There weren’t any other
accomplices. The film projector was shut
off. Could that have really been... the
mummy?
You’ve
probably seen this sort of thing in a lot of stories. It’s a pretty classic “...or is it?”
device. One of the first times I
remember seeing it in was the old X-Men/ Teen Titans crossover penned by
Chris Claremont, when the ghost of Jean Grey shows up to warn the X-Men about
Darkseid. Simply put, the Scooby
Ambiguity is the one element that doesn’t fit in my established setting.
Now, when
done right, this can be a wonderful thing.
When handled with a light touch, it can give the audience a little
thrill of excitement. It might even
count as a minor twist.
When done
wrong, though... well, your story falls apart
For
example...
There’s a series
of fairly successful books I read now and then.
I’ll be polite and not name them, even though they’re kind of a guilty
pleasure. I know they’re awful on
several levels, and they always frustrate me for one reason or another, but I
can’t help myself...
Anyway, the
series is firmly grounded in the real world.
Real locations, real law enforcement, real problems. It’s a lot like Scooby Doo, in
fact. There are stories about zombies,
mummies, and vampires, but in the end we get a solid, scientific explanation
for these things, and more than a few times someone actually gets a mask pulled
off.
In one of
the books, the main character is a
passenger on a jumbo jet with an unknown killer on the loose, and a huge stormfront is
actually keeping them in the air, forcing them onward rather than trying to
land.
Then, in
the last hundred pages or so, we learn the killer is actually the physically
manifested psychic energy of four passengers who are all projecting their Id
out into the world.
No, I’m
serious. Out of nowhere, in the middle
of this reality-based story, the killer is a telepathically-created monster.
On the
flipside, consider Dan Abnett’s ongoing book series about Gaunt’s Ghosts. It’s a sci-fi war story about soldiers during
a massive interplanetary crusade.
There’s guns, tanks, ongoing logistics and morale issues.
And every
now and then... a miracle. Nothing
gigantic, nothing that couldn’t be written off as odd coincidence or luck. Yet Colonel-Commissar Gaunt and his men are
following the crusade path of Saint Sabbat, and they do seem to attract a lot
of coincidences and a lot of luck. It
never wins the day for them, and it never leaves much in the way of evidence,
but it is there and the colonel-commissar is often left feeling a bit confused
and in awe of it in the aftermath.
Y’see,
Timmy, the Scooby Ambiguity works great as a thinly-connected side note, but
the minute I make it a major element of my main plot, things start to
crumble. Either I’m writing about a world
where X can happen or I’m not. By its
very nature, the ambiguity doesn’t fit within my established world, so
making it a major part of my plot creates a jarring distraction that breaks the
flow.
This isn’t
to say I can’t have a story about homicidal psychic-energy monsters, but if I
do it needs to be clear from the start that this is a world where such things
can exist. If not, pulling some bizarre
element out of left field is going to alienate a lot more readers than it
impresses.
And
alienated readers often find something else to do rather than finish reading.
Next time,
not to sound morose, but I wanted to talk a bit about death.
Until then,
go write.
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