Are You Being Too Nice?

When I am starting a new story, I ask myself:  who is the most likable character in this book?  Then I kill him.

Okay, not always.  But we all know that some of the most interesting stories come from writers who are downright nasty to their readers.  They don't give a shit what you want.  Take George R. R. Martin for example.  Plot spoiler:  everybody dies.  Of course, this makes it all the more rewarding when he does do something nice, and say whacks one of the bad guys on the john with his pants down.  That's kind of the point, I think.  In life, we all know shit goes our way maybe half the time, but some things are largely dependent on effort, while others are 9/10ths luck.  As writers, we need to strike a similar balance.  If we give too little, then the reader gets mad.  If we give too much, the reader gets bored.  What I like is to strike a nice tension between expectation and delivery, or pleasure and pain, if you will. 

Know your audience.  Know your genre.  But don't be afraid to change it up.  Writers should never be too nice to the reader, or they risk loosing the sense of anticipation that comes from diving into a new story, and meeting new characters, and experiencing their individual failures and successes.  By being too nice, writers risk not having much of a story to actually tell. 

Five ways a writer can be "too nice" to their readers

1.  Yummy!  A plot cookie!  On a plate!  On the table!
If you have ever roleplayed (showing my geek roots here), then you know the type:  the storyteller who describes a whole room, but pays very very close attention to one giant tomb constructed of human flesh, amid piles of other books similarly constructed of human flesh.  By drawing the players', or in this case the readers', attention to the ONE THING THAT DOES NOT BELONG you can be sure that they get it when the book becomes the center of attention.  Problem is, this handholding technique might be fine for a kid's book, but for the majority of the reading public, such obvious plotting backfires. They don't get the fuzzy feeling of treasure hunting among your words, of being a little Sherlock and constructing the clues for themselves.  A good writer matches a protagonist's conclusions and timing with that of the readers.  That way, the reader doesn't think the main character is stupid, nor do they think you stuck a DRINK ME sign on the side of the bottle.

2.  It's not you, it's me
Maybe your character is too likable.  Maybe because he's such a swell guy, you really want him to succeed.  But there's not much story to be had in a charmed life.  Many amateur writers are way too nice to their characters.  I don't know why this is.  I've also seen it's opposite, usually in the form of the teen male writer who graphically depicts every stabbing, beheading, and bleeding gunshot wound.  In either case, the issue is that the writer has put too much of themselves into the character's success.  It may not be a case of the Mary Sues, but being too attached to the imaginary can prevent you from telling the real story.  remember that your reader may want your character to win, but winning is not where the tension is.

3.  Death becomes her 
Some characters seem to walk on stage wearing a red coat.  We don't let the reader get to know them because we are bound and determined for them to just play their part and get the fuck out.  We do this because we are afraid of hurting our reader's feelings, of letting them expect more out of us as storytellers.  But shouldn't they expect more?  Remember that every character has a life beyond the story you are telling.  You don't want to share the whole thing, but breathing life into each face that makes an appearance, whether they are destined for greatness or to be dismembered in auto accident five minutes into the story, this is what makes a story feel complete.

4.  But the genre told me to
In any genre, expectations abound.  Devoted readers ask, and it is your job to deliver.  You're about as predictable as a pregnant woman eating pickles and ice cream.  You've got your genre down to a mathematical science.  Whatever the greats have done, you do as well.  It worked for them, right?  Actually, you just slid down the slope of uniqueness into a pile of poo that is your prescribed and generous conclusion.  It's what they wanted, right?  And you want them to like you.  Cuz that's how you make sales, right? 

5.  And they all lived happily ever after...
My roommate writes romance.  In her genre, it's damn well expected that every character come away with their heart's desire, as well as their true love, the house, the car, and a fine slice of pie.  Sometimes there are weddings.  And babies.  All the shit that makes the romance reader's heart go all flippy with emotion.  Because that's the point.  But say you're not writing romance.  This is the opposite of #4, in a way.  Regardless of genre, you are delivering a neat little package that makes the world all sacchrine sweet for all your darling characters when most genres don't work like that.  Real life doesn't work like that. 

Writers thrive on their readers' expectations and distrust.  Readers want surprises, but not so much that they have no clue where shit is coming from.  It comes down to finding a balance between want and do-not-want, or getting your reader to cry and jump gleefully along with the protagonist.  You can't do that if you aren't moved.  Moving the reader to experience the story and not just move their eyes along the page is the fundamental goal of every writer, no matter the genre.