On Heroines (the Writer's Dread Terror)

    So I've been trying to write a novel for a while, but right now it's a trash fire, so I'm procrastinating on that and writing this.
    Might as well, one of my problems is a female protagonist.

   My Issues with Modern Heroines

   For the past several years, it seems that only two types of girls exist in fiction:
    1. The kick-butt warrior
    2. The love-interest

   Sometimes you'll get a combination of the two (say, in fantasy or science-fiction works) but for the most part a female character falls into one of those fields, and it becomes a trope.

    Now, before I go on, I do like some characters who fall into those tropes, such as Katniss Everdeen, Cosette, Wonder Woman, and Okoye.
   The problem with the pattern, however, is that it becomes exactly that: a pattern. From that, we end up with many generic characters that are easily interchangable . You could easily swap Snow White with Sleeping Beauty, or movie-version Ginny Weasley with Iron Man 2's Black Widow, and not much would change in the overall plot.

     Sometimes authors don't even seem to care about that. As long as a heroine can shoot and be the audience's eyes, that's all we need. Developing a personality just takes up time. Might as well just take a male character and change his gender, there's no difference, right?
 
    On the other end of the spectrum, some people say that if you have a female protagonist, the story has to be about them being female. I don't get that. We don't have too many stories with male protagonists just about them being male.

     But an even more frustrating trope (to me) is how female characters are depicted as perfect, be that as a male-fantasy 'she was the ideal woman', to the hyper-feminist 'she is a juggernaut of power, don't question it!'

   I'll be the first to admit I'm a perfectionist, but this creates a HUGE problem.

   The 'ideal woman' is just insulting on many levels...

   "You're all I ever wanted. You're beautiful!"
   "Thank you. But what else?"
   "What else?"
   "Is beauty all that matters to you?"
   "What else is there?"
                        - The Swan Princess
 
   As for the other, Captain Marvel was criticized for being arrogant and cocky, but the majority rebuffed this with the argument that Tony Stark was the same way and well beloved (so clearly we were all a bunch of sexist jerks.)
   What was forgotten is the fact that Tony Stark changes, and Tony Stark doesn't really believe he is all that great. His cocky attitude is a defense mechanism, not the default setting. While Captain Marvel ends her debut film smirking and telling Fury that he'll definitely need her again, Tony ends his debut film with these lines:

    "I'm just not the hero type. Clearly. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I've made, largely public... The truth is: I am Iron Man."

      ... Yeah, there's a difference.

      Worse still is when people try to justify flawed heriones' flaws as being their true strengths, such as Tris Prior's impulsive independence as 'strong and selfless', when really it just makes more trouble and melodrama for the story as her boyfriend has to rescue her 20 times.

      Hope for Tropes???

      But you've probably heard all of the above before, so I'd like to pose a new question:
      Can a character be a trope -- by definition -- and still be interesting?

     The answer I've found is: YES.

     I put up that anime art in the beginning for a specific reason. The character in it is Violet Evergarden. I'm going to have to give some details about the show to fully explain my point, so if you'd rather watch the show without any fore-knowledge, I'd recommend stopping here.

    ......... We all good?

   Okay, so Violet Evergarden was forced to join the army at age 10 and proved to be a natural assassin, showing no emotion or hesitation when it came to killing others. During this time, she developed a close relationship with her superior, Major Gilbert Bougainvillea, but they were separated after a battle which sent Violet to the hospital and ended the war. One of Gilbert's friends takes her in and gives her a job in his mail-company, which has the added business of writing letters for people. At one point Violet witnesses a love-letter being written, which brings her to realize that she has no idea what love means.
    At all.
    This isn't some angsty-romantic-philosophy situation.
    It's literally that she has no familiarity with the concept of love.
    The entire plot of the anime is her trying to figure out what love is.

    So what do we get from this?

    1. Violet is attractive
    2. Violet is a kick-butt warrior
    3. Violet could end up in a romantic relationship
    4. Violet's personality, to begin with, is a bit repressed

    BUT this is all okay with me because:

    1. Violet must grow and change to fulfill her story
    2. Violet's flaws are shown to be exactly that -- flaws

    It's a really beautiful story so I won't go further into it, but the points are clear. An interesting heroine has to be a person. Not an ideal, not a compromise. Just an actual person, with actual flaws, who has to change to achieve a better life.

   This is why the Winter Soldier version of Black Widow resounded so much more with me. Her flaw was set up in that she was secretive, independent, and didn't invest too much in honest, vulnerable friendships. Then midway through the film she's hiding under Steve's shield, crying in terror for her life. Later on she and Steve have a heart-to-heart about how it seems like they can't trust anyone to be honorable anymore. She has a flaw, the flaw is challenged, explored, and overcome.

    So, in summary, all we ladies want is to just have some engaging heroines, be they weird, fashionable, poor, rich, creative, logical, beautiful, ugly, tall, short, brave, afraid, whatever. Just give them a journey and make them really change.
    That's why we all remember Ramona Quimby, but not The Assassin Girl™ from fantasy world X.

(Art credits: Violet Evergarden by Tomachi-chan,
Screenshot by Netflix)

The Art Elite Problem

         So once upon a time I was listening to an excerpt from a Klingon opera (as you do) and got curious to see if anyone in the comment section had cared to put up some translations. Turns out that someone in the comments had the same idea as me, but she asked for them.
         They got one response.
         "Why don't you just learn the language."

         (I went back to try finding the exact conversation and I think I did, but there were a ton of people who came to that person's defense, so the knave in question deleted his comment.)

        Now, it may have been that the response was meant to encourage the other individual, but in the context and attitude, it doesn't come off that way at all.

        This frustrates me so much. Art is one of the few things in the world that can be easily shared. Not everyone can learn how to ride a bike through the internet, but we can learn how to paint, sing, dance, or speak a new language (this current quarantine state is a great time for it!) but what's the good of that if we who know how to do the things are condescending and outright hostile to those who don't?

        This is a problem that I've realized I had with some of my older posts, thus some of them are missing and will be rewritten (or not) but how do we address the problem? How do we keep from slipping into that mindset?

        After mulling it over for a bit, I came up with this list of ideas. There are probably a lot more out there to help, but this is just what I could come up with on the spot.

        1. Don't punish the behavior you want to see. 
        (This could really be applied to anything in life, actually...)

        2. Don't scorn those who are as inexperienced as you once were.
        Don't pretend that you never sounded awful when you started playing an instrument. Smile and applaud the kids who are in their first concert, no matter if your ears are bleeding. They're doing their best.

        3. Recognize that some things are just generally -- be it due to history, location, or technology -- not as well-known as others, and be patient with teaching those who want to learn (see #1.)

          This is my favorite example of this:

"I don't think you're inherently a racist if you don't know how to color black skin. You probably just haven't practiced it enough!"

   This makes me so happy. Let's face it, for a lot of us, we didn't grow up with superheroes or princesses other than White™ until War Machine, Falcon, Tiana, Esmeralda, Kida, Jasmine and Black Panther came along. (Plus, 3 out of those 4 princesses were sexualized quite a bit, so even if we saw them we weren't allowed to draw them.)

    Peachdeluxe, wherever you are, thank you. Thank you so much.

    Sincerely, a white artist who's trying really hard and prone to anxious over-thinking.

         4. Explain things to people who are trying to follow along.

            If you're a violinist who's talking about a really hard piece and you're ranting about 'all those double-stops!' but you don't stop to explain what a double-stop is to an inexperienced listener, they're just going to get confused and your words will have no meaning.

         5. Be the person you needed when you were younger.

         Not much to explain there.

         6. Remember Ratatouille!

So. We read an Amish romance (part 3)

       Well, we made it. There was wailing and lamenting, curling up on the floor, long nights of staring into space, but we made it.
     
       Was it better than when it began? Yes, in a way.
       Was it enough to make up for the nightmares we had the night after we finished? Oh, no. Not even close.

        The first two books earned 13 pages of notes each.
        This one earned 15.

        And I'm honest about the nightmares.
        That happened.
        Thanks, Beverly.



        The Premise

        Amish woman Lettie Byler has left her community of Bird-in-Hand to search for the child she bore out of wedlock, which was taken away from her at birth by the witch that is her mother, Adah.
        Lettie's daughter, Grace, and the English outsider, Heather, have teamed up to look for her.
        Heather's convinced her dad to pay the bill for a health retreat in hopes that it'll cure her cancer.
        Judah has to prove he's changed and become a man.
        Yonnie's still the best.

       Let's go from there.

       Resolutions

       In the middle of this convoluted mess, at least four questions were clear.

       1. Will Lettie and Judah's marriage be better?
       2. Will Adah and Jakob be punished for their actions?
       3. How long will it take for Heather -- who conveniently admitted (via "This is really out of character for me, but...") that she was adopted -- and Lettie to realize that they are mother and daughter?
       4. When will Grace get it through her gelatinous skull that Yonnie is the best man in the entire community of emotionally-abusive twerps and it's okay to be in a relationship again after her ex-fiancee started dating her 'best friend'?

       At least three of these were answered, and only one in a satisfying way.

      Grace, true to her nature, goes back and forth, so torn between her feelings that she never makes the choice until all obstacles disappear, thus making that 'choice' mean nothing.

       Lettie comes back and tells Judah what happened. First he's upset and walks away from her, then the two-by-four of reality hits him and he realizes what he's done. The very next day he goes back to Lettie, admits where he went wrong, begs for forgiveness, and takes her home (as contrary to what the community expects.)

      When Heather and Lettie finally meet, Lettie -- who up to this point has been studying strangers' lips to see if they resemble her ex's -- doesn't so much as spare her a glance, and Heather's more interested in the scandal than anything else. It's Adah who reunites them.

      On that note...
     Adah and Jakob are never punished. While Lettie must confess her sins to the entire membership, Adah is given a private confession. Jakob says he doesn't feel convicted, so a confession isn't necessary (because that's how it works, evidently.)

       Our Local Witch

       Oh, lovely, nurturing, long-suffering Adah.
       We hate Adah, but we hate the fact that Beverly tries to victimize her more.
     
       When Lettie first opens up to family about her past... well, this is how it goes:

       ""I thought I was in love, Hallie. And I was hardheaded, too. Wanted my way, no matter what anyone thought of my beau. So I disobeyed my parents and broke their hearts." Lettie was quiet a moment. "It's no wonder Mamm made me give the baby away."...
       ... Hallie made a sad sound and leaned forward, her arms on the table. "Well, I hope you don't believe that -- what you just said." She locked eyes with Lettie. "Because, my dear Lettie, that's not why your Mamm would've insisted on you givin' your baby away," Hallie said quietly. "Don't ya see? She made you do it out of love. For you... for your baby.""

   

      ....... Let me get this straight.
     Adah, our Adah, who -- Let's see, ah yes! -- called her first-born grandchild 'the sinful offspring', who emotionally abused her daughter apparently before AND after this event, who moved into her daughter's house to daily remind her that the family repute depended on her never telling her husband the truth about her past, who manipulated and controlled the entire family since day one, did all this because she loved them?

      Sure. Sounds legit.

      And in case you're wondering, this conversation happens when Lettie comes home:

      ""When you make your confession before the membership... must you reveal everything? I mean all the personal details?"
    "I want to do the ministers' bidding... to come clean."
    "'Tis a thorny issue, the confession."
    Lettie replied softly, "It's up to the bishop what questions are asked of me."
    Mamm's lips drew into a stiff line, and her cheeks flushed...
    ...Mamm reached out and placed a hand on Lettie's arm. "I wish you'd give it more thought, dear. Consider the consequences that such a disclosure might cause."
    "For me?" Lettie whispered. "Or for you?""

    Also Adah would rather her daughter be shunned for 6+ months rather than confess publicly.
    But, you know, it's clearly because she loves her.

    That's also probably why she doesn't want Grace to be friends with Englishers.

    Alternative Title: The Book of Bigotry

    Sometimes I look at Beverly's photo on the back of these books, and I wonder, does she realize that she's technically an Englisher? Because she certainly doesn't write like it.

    This is the most bigoted, sectarianistic book in the entire series.

    Englishers are, by Beverly's account, the most self-centered, greedy, fast-paced, impulsive, rude people in existence, leaving Amish characters to marvel that one of them "could even be considerate".
    (Note: I'm not saying that we aren't capable of these, but blanket statements are very dangerous, and as all this is going on, the Amish folk are always described as being self-controlled, gracious, kind, industrious, etc. etc. etc. And imagine hearing someone say that they're shocked someone of your background could have any good qualities. Yeah. Great way to alienate your audience, Beverly.)

    To punctuate this, we got one scene that's sole purpose was to have two English characters talk about how great the Amish are. Nothing else. At all.

     Alternative Title: The Infomercial Catalog

     We got all the infomercials. Infomercials on the Amish, infomercials on jam, infomercials on the effects of 'the American diet'.

     Did you know that the true cause of addiction in our world is diet? If we didn't eat red meat and fries we wouldn't have alcoholics, obviously.

     
       Heather the heathen

      It has been verified that Heather's only purposes in this series was to be Lettie's daughter and get a smashed-together salvation story. And boy, did we get it.
   
      Instrumental in her salvation journey is her experience at the health-lodge -- which is VERY illegal (see part 2) and meets nearly all of the criteria of being a cult -- and Jim, a guy she met online under an anonymous name and never saw until he drove 5 hours to meet her. Within minutes of their visit, he's spewing such lovely romantic phrases as:

      "I knew you'd be this pretty, Heather. From the way you expressed yourself... I knew."

      Oh, but don't worry, he's a Christian, and he wrote her a poem prayer, and he used to work at Busch Gardens when she went there all the time with her parents, so they're not total strangers and it's not creepy at all when he touches her arm without reason, immediately asks her to go on a date, , and all that. It's fine. He's also super attractive, so yeah.

      The moment of salvation is in itself only explainable as, 'this girl's body is going through a chemical cleanse, thus her emotions are everywhere.' One minute she's a skeptic, the next she's praying "a prayer of broken hearts and broken wings." There's no build-up, and no consequences. It's just fluff.

     The Conclusion

     As I said in the beginning, the series got better. Judah and Lettie have a stronger relationship, Yonnie has finally been recognized as good, and Lettie is forgiven by the church.
     But none of that can change how disturbing this series is.
     It probably would have done better if it was a single book, so that way we wouldn't get the wrong moral lessons and authorial opinions expressed in the first book (like the ideal wife being hard-working, happy and hot concept, which works as a starting point for Judah's growth, but is confusing when it is never challenged until halfway through the second book.)
     All the characters are over-emotional in places they shouldn't be, and non-emotional in places they should be.
     There is no reason or realism.
     There are no solid opinions, other than the Amish being perfection incarnate while the rest of the human race is corrupt and selfish.
      Conflict -- the very blood of good storytelling -- is avoided at all costs.

      Overall, this is probably the worst series I've read, up to date.

      What I'm trying to say is that if your readers come upon a scene that's well-written, with strong theme and character development, then pause to look at each other and sincerely ask:
     "Is the author dead?"
     Then you're probably doing something wrong.

     This is not to say that Beverly Lewis can never write something good, or that it's a completely hopeless genre, but it's going to take a lot of work to make that change. Plus the humility to acknowledge that sometimes we write crap. That's what the editing process is for.