Every time I come across a problem when I'm writing, it seems like the solution makes the world bigger. Sometimes it makes the world more complex at the same time. I had that happen in my WIP yesterday when I asked the question: "How do they know the demon is dead?"
I really, really hate it when the good guy is approaching or checking the corpse of the newly fallen bad guy, only to discover that the bad guy was faking and everyone in the audience jumps … well, that's the movies, and it works (sort of, sometimes, though it's a really tired cliche') but in fiction I really can't stand it.
Which ties into the whole 'person is dead but not really dead …' thing. I'm caring less and less for that too. A reader grieves (or cheers) when someone dies and it cheapens that when it turns out that they're actually not. It's been used effectively in the past, but less and less so lately. I actually prefer it the other way around, where the person is hoping the hero isn't really dead, and then gets absolute proof that yes, in fact, they are gone and the grief hits them again, only this time harder. Painful. Magnificent.
I'm sort of evil sometimes I think.
But seriously, the real reason it bothers me is because we, personally and individually as an entire species, don't get to cheat like that. When I see it in fiction happening to people who I assume the writer has otherwise been treating as flesh and blood beings, it jars me right out of the story. I suppose the exception is when there's lots of magic involved, but only if there's a price, a sense of balance, a sense of earning it and at the same time a sense of things still being changed forever. I guess I'm just one of those people who doesn't think death is something trite. Big spoilsport, I know. This is why you won't see me watching a lot of horror movies where the whole point is to splash so much blood around that it's 'funny.' Sorry, it's not funny to me.
—- Sherlock Season Two Spoiler Alert Warning —–
Sort of spoiler, anyway. You have read the books, haven't you?
A recent exception to the whole cheating death being a cheat issue, of course, is Sherlock (BBC series) with the last episode of Season Two. Doyle wrote it that way so it's expected, plus hey killed him so brilliantly, so openly, so publicly and so convincingly that I'm eager and excited to find out where the magic is. Because it's a magic trick. Holmes told us so. He told Watson too, but Watson didn't quite realize it and besides, he checked for a pulse, he saw Holmes on the ground … wow. I hope the explanation is good. I know it involves Molly ….
——-End of Spoiler Alert —————
So far, I haven't been disappointed and I expect Season Three will begin brilliantly.
Sherlock, btw, is my non-guilty pleasure. No guilt whatsoever. I revel in it.
But I digress (a lot.)
I think that it's true in real life, too, that when you come across a problem and learn how to fix it, the world becomes bigger, richer, and more complex.
I like it. It's nifty. It makes me wonder just how big, rich and complex the world will seem when I'm older. I think it will be so wonderful I'll have a very hard time leaving it.
Or maybe it'll be so big, it'll be scary. I know it's that way for some people. I'm certainly not immune to fear, especially when faced with vastness. I've felt it before, when I look through my telescope at the big, starry sky and realize that it goes on almost forever ….