I’m Sick Of Post Canon Stories About Characters Getting Married And Having Kids And Finding Peace When

One thing I don't see show up as a consideration in worldbuilding a lot is what things are professionalized.

By that I mean how (and whether) certain activities or focuses are conducted in an organized, professional manner or treated as a career path or industry (often with set standards or training involved) rather than those that are treated primarily as hobbies or conducted in an ad hoc manner.

Standing armies, for example, are professionalized in a way that temporary armies or militias aren't. Being in the military is a profession that is organized and has specific standards and training and that clearly distinguishes between people who are or are not in the military. If we look at a lot of past wars, though, as well as many militias, being in the military was not a career for most people (especially most enlisted) and the time and effort between deciding to join and being on a battlefield was significantly smaller.

A professionalized military will generally be a stronger, more cohesive, more effective military--but it is also far more expensive to maintain, because as it is a profession the military servicemembers pull their salary from the military on a regular basis, and it takes away hands from other tasks such as manufacturing and farming.

Over the last few hundred years a lot of countries have seen (to varying degrees) professionalization of fields like firefighting, policing, pharmacology, emergency response, and search and rescue. In these cases, it reflects 1) a recognized need for a standing trained force that can respond quickly; 2) a recognized need for standards and credentialing; 3) the ability societally to have individuals who might otherwise be contributing to manufacturing or food production not do that indefinitely; 4) a dedicated ongoing effort to maintain standards, trainings, etc.; and 5) organizations (generally governments) that can pay for these services.

We also see the professionalization of other things, like youth sports--the push to treat youth sports as either primarily a system to develop professional athletes or a career on its own.

When you're doing worldbuilding, consider what roles would be treated in this professionalized manner, rather than those that would be viewed as temporary positions or conducted on an ad hoc basis.

Is there a standing professional military? How does the professionalization differ between officers and enlisted?

Is emergency preparedness, response, or recovery a professionalized field? Is the focus of that profession on planning? On search and rescue, triage, or other immediate response activities or coordination? On rebuilding following disasters? On managing grants, tax relief, or other monetary aspects of rebuilding?

Is pharmacology a regulated industry that requires training or credentialing? Is medicine?

Is firefighting generally conducted by individuals in the neighborhood? By private industry? By unpaid volunteers managed by a governmental or non-governmental organization? By full-time paid staff?

Are these positions generally a full-time job or an ad hoc/as needed job that can be called on? If it is an ad hoc position, what are the credentialing requirements to be put on the roster?

write the story only you can tell, because you aren't the only one who needs it

get up and go write.

write for the people who will one day pore over the words you've chosen.

write for the people who think you could never have gotten so far.

write so you can bring words to life.

write so one day you can look back and see how far you've come.

write to inspire people who are too afraid, or who cannot, put words to paper.

write, because if you don't create this, who will?

and if anything, get up and go write for yourself. there's still so far to go. take a break, breathe, but go back. there's still so many things to share.

So I always write from third person, largely because I tend to write multiple POVs. Only, for my new wip, I’m trying to use first person. I don’t switch POVs. I also want the story to feel like the character is telling it to the reader. But I keep switching to second person. And a part of me is like, fuck it, just write in second person, but I know a lot of people hate it. Anyways, this draft is about to be me switching back and forth constantly.

I keep seeing people making fun of using growled, hissed, roared, snarled etc in writing and it’s like.

have you never heard someone speak with the gravel in their voice when they get angry? Because that’s what a growl is.

Have you never heard someone sharply whisper something through the thin space of their teeth? Or when your mother sharply told you to stop it in public as a kid when you were acting up/being too loud? Because that’s what a hiss is.

Have you never heard a man get so blackout angry that their voice BOOMS through the house? Because that’s what a roar is.

Have you never seen someone bare their teeth while talking to accentuate their frustration or anger while speaking with a vicious tone? Because that’s what snarling is.

It’s not meant to be a literal animal noise. For the love of god, not every description is literal. I get some people are genuinely confused, but also some of these people are genuinely unimaginative as fuck.

Romantic Writing Prompts (++Drama++)

She has two choices... the boy who makes her feel like art, or the man who can give her the world on a silver platter. Both love her. Both will ruin her in different ways. And she has to decide if she wants passion or security, because she cannot have both.

She thought she had found the love of her life on a dreamy vacation. The kind of love that makes you believe in fate. The kind of love that makes your bones hum. And then she comes home, walks into her best friend’s apartment, and sees him, wearing a ring, wrapping his arms around the person who’s been in her life longer than he has.

She’s built her career from nothing. Nothing. And now she’s finally on the verge of making it, rising in the world of high fashion, with a mentor who believes in her more than anyone ever has. But then she finds out the truth about him. And it’s not just bad. It’s the kind of truth that could end everything.

She has a plan. Stay in her tiny hometown. Marry the boy she’s known forever. Live a simple, happy life. But then the new guy moves in, brooding, devastatingly handsome, and everything she’s not supposed to want. Suddenly, her plan feels like a cage. And her childhood sweetheart can see it happening.

She knows he’s a mistake. She knows he’s all sharp edges and empty promises and that he kisses her like he’s daring her to regret it later. And still, she goes back to him. Again and again. Until she either saves him or loses herself completely.

She has a good boyfriend. A stable one. The kind of love that makes sense. Then, she meets him. The kind of love that is a disaster waiting to happen, that keeps her awake at night, that makes her question everything she thought she wanted. And suddenly, safe doesn’t feel so safe anymore.

She’s fine. She swears she is. It’s been years since she lost him. She moved on. She has a job, a life, someone else warming her bed. And then, she sees him again. Older. Wiser. Looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world that ever made sense. And suddenly, every lie she’s told herself comes crashing down.

Let's delve into...

Look, I know you don't like to fail. I KNOW. Neither do I. But do you know who will—and should—fail a lot? YES, your characters! Failure does all the nifty things writing teachers promise us will keep the story interesting: raise the stakes, bring emotions to a boil, and keep things from stagnating and/or getting predictable. Triumphs have their place, and should be present (unless you enjoy metaphorically kicking your readers in the shins, which, hey, more power to you!) but your characters can't always win. That's boring, and unfortunately, boring is the biggest noncriminal sin in entertainment. The good news is that, when your character does win, their previous failure is going to make it all the more satisfying. Doesn't that make you want to nail that failure for maximum improvability? (Hey I HEARD YOU rolling your eyes just now. Rhetorical questions are NOT cringe. Rude.)

So, what do I mean by a "good failure"?

Basically, when they mess up naturally, because of their own choices, in a way that reflects their flaws. "But wait," I hear you say, "does that exclude the possibility of an external circumstance making for a good catalysts for failure?" Nope! There are no hard and fast rules in writing, and shit does, indeed, just happen sometimes. Happen poignantly, even. But your character can't be entirely blameless in every scenario because then things get *taps on chalkboard* BORING. Seriously, consequences are so cool, I promise.

Okay then, why do I want a good failure?

Emotional resonance: do you remember that time you studied hard and still failed the test? Betcha that felt real bad. Yeah, it's that, but magnified by however many people died (or were sad about it! The stakes don't always need to be cataclysmic).

Catalyst for organic growth: do you remember how failing that test made you decide never to pull an all-nighter cramming again? Perhaps even reassess your relationship with God, your identity, and your place in the universe? Yep. And it felt earned, too. Huh.

Narrative depth: how mad were your parents about that test? And how much did it suck getting your Nintendo taken away because of it? That was compelling, realistic tension, baby! It put you right on the—unfun, but necessary—path to making that eventual success feel meaningful. Yay.

Relatability: you know, I felt kinda bad writing all that stuff about how failing that test wrecked you. Because I have empathy, certainly, but also because I've been there too! Mistakes are human, and few things are more effective at humanizing someone than making them an honorary cringefail loser. (This holds especially true if they're usually the god king of being hot and correct, btw.)

Fine, so how do I go about writing that?

Foreshadowing: why, yes, everything DOES always come back to foreshadowing. Good catch! See, foreshadowing marks the difference between a failure being contrived and awkward, and landing because it was tragically inevitable. The character has been making bad decisions that will come back to bite them all book, and the time for gleaning lessons from the teeth marks on their ass is now.

Make the failure specific and personal: sure, failing a test is a universal experience, but failing the most important test ever conceived in the history of mankind and if you fail your mom will hate you and your girlfriend will leave you and you'll go bald isn't. Make 'em feel it where it hurts!

Consequences: internal or external, they better be tailormade to catalyze change. Be it damaged interpersonal relationships or crippling self-doubt, they better not walk away from their mess-up willing to do it again. (NOTE: exceptions may apply in negative character arcs, but even then, the next time they make that mistake, it shouldn't be the exact same one again. It should be so, so much worse.)

Redemption: following on from the last point—make it a turning point! Show me how things are fifty kinds of broken now and how your character plans on rebuilding the mess using the tools they just got from chucking the toolbox full-tilt at their lives.

Examples be upon ye:

Simba in The Lion King: hopefully we can all agree that thinking you caused your father's death is a valid reason to crash out. However, the important thing here is that the crash-out was not eternal. It allowed for an emotional development cooldown period, and when it did end, empowered Simba to make his triumphant return all the more triumphant. Do you think smacking his geriatric uncle off a mountain would've been half as hot if his emotional arc and subsequent redemption had been underbaked? No. Literally. C'mon, lock in.

Zuko in Avatar: The Last Airbender: ahh yes, the king of redemption arcs, which kinda also makes him the king of cringefailing (both externally and internally! Very illustrative, thank you, Zuko). But I bet you don't just remember his struggle with capturing Aang. In fact, I'd bet quite a few buckaroos what you most remember is his struggle with honor. Could it be because you're grateful for what each setback did to help him find his? What about how they taught him that true honor was internally cultivated rather than externally conferred? And the fact that he chose to help the person whom he'd vowed to destroy in order to get it, for which he used the tools he painstakingly won throughout his arc? Hmm. Perchance. See what I mean? It just feels right when things come full circle, and boy is a good failure shaped like zero!

Ultimately, I hope you found something useful here and that, the next time you're down in the trenches of narrative predictability and character stagnation, you consider pissing in their metaphorical coffees. Thank you!

Happy writing!

The barista in chapter three? She has a life outside of giving your protagonist coffee. The villain’s henchman? Maybe he’s just trying to pay off his dad’s medical bills. Every character has their own story, their own motivations. The world doesn’t revolve around your protagonist, don’t write like it does.

Shout out to the autistic who’s abilities have regressed as they’ve gotten older.

“You didn’t used to be like this when you were a kid.” I know please don’t remind me

In my main wip, I don’t think there’s even a moment where Everyone is happy. Like if I’m in a good mood I might actually add a happy ending, or at least a nice little epilogue.

My characters are so happy right now :) Should I... ruin... everything?

I love the notes I gave myself during my first draft. I think one of my favorites is: we need to standardize pet names.