Playing Favorites: Parents, Part 3

     On Monday I started a series on Parental Favoritism, and followed up on it on Wednesday--now, late on a Friday night, I'm finishing up the series, at least for the foreseeable future.  Here are the last four words that I currently have on the subject of how to spice up your parental favoritism (sub)plots.

7.  Put the protagonist somewhere in the middle

    People, especially young people but old people, too (and sometimes to far more harmful degrees), have this tendency to polarize the world--there is up and down, there is left and right, there is black and white, there is cold and hot, and there is nothing in between.  This comes from a lot of different places--childhood naiveté, absorbing too many stories with this same black vs. white mentality, a lack of empathy, strict teachings (usually theological) that stress the duology of an Cosmic Good and a Universal Evil in a universe that acts with an inherent morality, etc.
     Now universes with an inherent morality can be very interesting, but only if the universe's morality is the universe's, and not the character's--again, unless your character is some kind of God with special universe-bending powers, they probably shouldn't be the one calling the shots one hundred percent, and their viewpoint shouldn't be the only Absolutely Correct one.
     All that being said, sometimes there exists more than just Favorite and Least Favorite; a lot of kids have more than just one sibling.  If your character exists in a home where favoritism is going on, or is thought to be going on, instead of putting your character on due north or south, maybe place them somewhere more toward center stage--from this vantage, they can comment on the rivalry (if one exists) as they see it, on how the favoritism (if it exists) plays out, and how it affects the rest of the family--while at much less risk than a family Black Sheep, children who are neither favorite nor least favorite are every bit as affected by things like this, and, if they have a good voice and interesting things to say, could provide a fresh perspective on things.

8.  Don't let your kid get hung up on this shit for FOREVER

     If your character had to wash more dishes than their sibling as a kid, they shouldn't still be talking about it when they're thirty.  Unless you want them to come off as whiny, lazy, boring, and entitled, at least.
     Favoritism in a home can cause problems, it's true; some of those problems might last for the rest of the kid's life, or at least have lasting impacts.  But unless the wounds really are so deeply scarred, your little kids are likely to put it behind them sometime after college, if not during--you can't exactly pull the "I'm Mom's Favorite" card when your landlord asks you for rent, so privileged kids leading non-privileged lifestyles will learn pretty quick how bad a job Mommy and Daddy did setting them up in the world, while their baby brother, who always had to wash the dishes and clean the toilets and a million other things, will first of all be overjoyed to no longer be under his parents' thumb, but will second of all have a lot of skills that will serve him later on.
     Even if the wounds are deep, your character may revisit them from time to time, especially during rocky periods in their life, but they're not going to still be obsessing over it by the time they have a family of their own, because there will be more important matters to deal with than the way Mom used to look at you when you brought home C's on your report cards.
     Basically, while it can still be a part of them, don't let it define them.

9.  Let your character realize that their parents aren't actually playing favorites

     Sometimes it's all in your character's head.  Let that be the case sometimes.  Let them figure it out.  Let them deal with the fallout.  Maybe after all those years of thinking they were the least favorite they find out their sister thought she was the least favorite too, and they reconcile--maybe after believing they were the least favorite it turns out they were the favorite, and expected to stand on their own; maybe they thought they were the favorite, but they're only treated so well so they'll shut up and stop bothering their parents.
     Maybe their parents just love them the same amount as all their siblings, but in different ways, and your character is forced to face the fact that the universe actually does not revolve around them, and they can't be the center of it at every waking moment.


     This has been TheSpiderWriter's take on parental favoritism in fiction.  I hope the details provided here have been helpful, and that they serve you going forward.  If you have any thoughts to add or something you'd like to discuss, feel free to drop me a line!

Playing Favorites: Parents, Part 2

     On Monday, I posted an article about parental favoritism, said a bunch of words, and left off with more thoughts about how to spice up your parental favoritism plots stirring in my head.  These are those thoughts.  Please enjoy them.


4.  Have the favorite feel bad about it

     Most of the time in fiction, when a character finds out that they're the favorite they're super smug about it--they lord it over the other characters and do their best to make them as miserable as humanly possible.  OR, the favorite is totally oblivious to the favoritism, and feels neither one way nor the other about it once they do find out--maybe they aren't a dick about it, but they kind of just accept it as the status quo.
     And yeah, that's ONE way to think about it, but there's also another, perhaps more realistic alternative--delicious, delicious guilt.
     Whether it's because they love their siblings and don't want them to feel left out, or because their siblings treat them poorly because of their heightened station in the home, let the character feel bad about their position of privelege, whether they're the protagonist or not.  If they are the protagonist, this is a perfect way to shoehorn in your childhood angst without falling back on the age-old (and so oft poorly done) abuse tropes that clutter every genre in the history of man, and it makes them out to be a more sympathetic character than the Raging Doucheholic many favorites turn out to be.
     If they aren't the protagonist, it can help subvert the sibling rivalry trope and adds a further depth to their relationship and the general dynamic of the home; it makes for a more complex narrative and gives the protagonist more than just straw men to wail against--maybe they still hate them, but even so, at least we're seeing a character in a universe that is not protagonist-centered.
     Which is just another reason why you should

5.  Make the other siblings sympathetic characters

     They don't have to be heroes, and they can even be antagonists, but your protagonist's siblings are people, too; they have hopes and dreams and aspirations, wants and needs and motivations, ones that include your protagonist and ones that don't.  Their world does not revolve around bullying your protagonist for being better/smarter/worse/dumber than them.  I actually have a lot to say about sibling relationships that I won't put here (that's a post for another day), but as far as this article goes, it boils down to; it's (probably) not any of the siblings' faults that they're favored or disfavored.  Maybe your characters don't see it like that, and that's fine, but show that and then show why.
     No matter how antagonistic, let each sibling have something in them that's redeeming--a soft spot for cute things, a special affinity for helpless people, a shocking capacity for generosity, or even just a particularly witty scathing tongue.  Throw the audience a bone and give us a reason to like the favorite or least favorite--better yet, give the protagonist a reason to like or even love their sibling(s)!  Relationships are complicated, and it can be a love-hate thing if you want, but chances are good, after spending so many years together, there are at least some things the little brother likes about his older sister, and vice versa.

6.  Make the impact of the treatment realistic

     A lot of the time in fiction you see kids being treated unequally by their parents, and they either turn out right as roses when they should be dealing with some shit, or they get totally fucked up for years over the smallest of transgressions.
     If your character is their parents' favorite child, they're going to either grow up feeling entitled, because they get whatever they want and never have to work for it, and won't last long in the real world, or they will grow up walking on eggshells in a desperate bid for perfectionism, ever afraid that they could, at any moment, fall from grace.  They could be egotistical and think they're all that, or they could be neurotic about doing things The Right Way so as not to disappoint their dear dear parents.
     If your character grows up as their parents' least favorite child, they're likely to wind up with a lot of self-esteem issues and either pent-up aggression or open resentment, depending on the situation; they're more likely to suffer from depression and less likely to do well in school.  These may be the kids who end up throwing themselves into relationships with much older people later on in life, looking for the parental approval they could never get.
     Of course, these are only a few ways that parental favoritism could affect your characters, and I recommend doing research into how favorites and least favorites turn out, and figuring out how your character would blossom in the station they currently maintain and under whatever form of pleasure/displeasure their parentals dish out.

     Again, this isn't all I have to say, but I'll finish up this series on Friday.  If you have any thoughts on writing parental favoritism, feel free to drop some dialogue in the comment section!

Playing Favorites: Parents, Part 1

     In fiction, it's all too common to see parents play favorites.  This is, to some degree, a reflection of real life--as impartial as we try to be, we all have biases, and sometimes those biases sprinkle down to color what we think of our children.  Whether they try to or not, parents think of all their children in different ways, which doesn't mean that they don't love them equally--it's often equal, just different, much like the children themselves.
     A lot of the time when we see this trope, it's our protagonist who is most affected.  Either they're the favorite (like Thor from Thor) and deserve to be because their siblings are all such prats, or (far more common) they're the least favorite, like Loki, or pretty much any character that has siblings, in which case they either deserve it (usually retroactively) or they don't, which is where most protagonists  seem to end up.
     Nine times out of ten, this is done poorly; everything is painted in stark lines of black and white, the sibling(s) are shitheads, there's no reason why the protagonist should be treated the way they are, and when playing the part of the punching bag, it's either as the abused True Heir (ala Cinderella) or as the kid who has to do chores because God forbid they help out around the house a little.
     An easy solution is to just not bother with the favoritism dynamic, but it can be done well, and completely leaving out the reality of favoritism is like leaving out the reality of all the -isms in life; nice to see, but ultimately dishonest.  You can only run from the truth for so long.
     Anywho. here are 3 ways you can make your favoritism dynamic more interesting.

1.  Let there be subtlety

     In real life, favoritism is most often displayed in the small things.  It's not typically the grand, showy, "My sister got a car for her birthday and I got six months hard labor" that it's often made out to be.  Parents don't try to let their children know if they do have a favorite--they try very hard to hide it, but when it leaks out it's usually in the form of extra praise or admonishment for one party or the other, or they give slightly more lavish gifts to one than to the other--or, yes, maybe they sympathize more with character A's need to get homework done than they do with character B's, so they make character B do character A's chores for a night, or something like that.
     Your character's parents are people, and most people don't try to be mean or unfair "just because."  Which reminds me--

2.  There has to be a reason for the favoritism

     One of the best portrayals of "Least Favorite Child Syndrome" I've seen to date was in a book I read quite some time ago, but whose title I have, unfortunately, forgotten.  The basic plot was that this little girl was an outcast--her siblings were mean, her mother favored them above her, and she was bad at English and art but good at math.  She adopts a puppy at one point but doesn't want her family to know about it, her art teacher tries to help her get extra credit by taking her to the zoo, the dog almost gets eaten by a lion at some point....  The details are kind of hazy.  Like I said, it's been a while.  (If anyone knows the title of this book, let me know so I can cite it, it's a great book and I greatly recommend it)
     But like all children who think themselves unfairly treated, this little girl believes herself to be adopted, and daydreams about her "real family" finding her and stealing her away from her kidnappers in order to give her a better life.  This is, of course, bullshit, and the sister even points out as much while they're looking at old pictures of their mother, because little miss protagonist looks just like Mommy used to, which becomes extremely relevant towards the end of the book, when Miss Protag confronts Mommy Dearest and straight up asks why her sister is the favorite.
     Instead of denying it or telling Miss Protag to go to her room or burn in hell, Mommy Dearest starts to cry.  She admits that she's been playing favorites, and apologizes, and tells Miss Protag exactly why--because Miss Protag is exactly the same as Mommy Dearest was as a child, and Mom has a lot of pent up self-loathing that she's concentrated into the toxic chemical storm she rains down on her youngest child.
     This isn't right by any means, but it was an amazing moment that has (obviously) stuck with me ever since--you never see parents admitting to playing favorites, and you certainly never get to hear the story from their perspective, which means a lot of the time the favoritism is just this thing that happens for no discernible reason rather than something real that is the cause of an effect.
     Maybe your character's parents hate him because he's like them, or love him for the same reason--maybe he's favored or disfavored because he's the more able, or the less, or because he has interests that mesh with/conflict with his parents', or they dislike him because he's an asshole.
     Maybe, if he's the favorite, it's because he works the hardest, and doesn't ask for gifts, and does what he's told, and behaves himself, etc. etc.  Maybe he's earned every facet of that favoritism to such a degree that he doesn't feel he's the favorite even if he is; remember that your character's perceptions of reality will not always be in tune with the actuality of reality.

3.  Explore it from the parents' POV

     As I mentioned above, this, as with most things, is a nuanced issue.  Parents are just people, and all people are flawed; there are different sides to every story, and we have a tendency to focus inordinately on the part of the story that's written by the child--and if we're being honest, children have a pretty bad track record for understanding the way the world works.
     Let the parents tell their side of the story.  Maybe it's a horrible side to the story and they really are assholes, but at least give them the chance to try to make us understand--it could be that their intentions really are noble!  Or that they have no idea what they're doing and it's all just the subconscious effects of reproductive narcissism.  Maybe they don't really have favorites at all, but the sickly child needs more attention than the child who's perfectly healthy, or the problem child gets more attention because the parents feel the need to straighten her out.  A lot of the time, the more capable and trusted a child, the more likely they are to end up on the back burner while parents are distracted--they can have an infinite capacity for love, but they will always have a limited amount of time and energy.
     Maybe the parent is just reacting to the vibes they're getting from their kids--when I was growing up, my mother and my baby brother were upset with each other a good half of the time because my mother and I would go and have "Girls' Nights Out" while he stayed in the trailer park.  My brother might have thought it was a result of favoritism, but every time my mother would spring an unexpected event on us, I would be eager to go and John would insist that he would rather stay home and hang out with his friends.  My mother would argue, John would argue back, my mother would relent and then complain about it in the car (because she wanted to spend time with both of us, and he did this quite often), and then later, when we came home and told him about the movie we'd seen or the park we'd gone to, John would be upset that he "didn't get to go" when I "always did."
     It wasn't a matter of love or affection or favorites; it was just that he chose to use his time differently (and, to be perfectly honest, he had more friends than I did with whom to while his time), and then, being a kid, upon regretting the use of his time, blamed it on the person who had wanted him to use it differently in the first place.
     That rambling anecdote is to say, parenting is hard, and parents deserve the chance to have their stories told, too.
     Whether you explore it from their actual POV or in an honest (or semi-honest or just honest-as-they-see-it) confrontation with a child (or children), or if you write an entire book about it from the parents' perspective, make sure that the parent either sees it as a reasonable way to act, or that they struggle with the guilt of their actions--the Evil Stepmother trope is all well and good in fairytales, but we've stepped well past the battles of Static Good versus Static Evil in the modern age; all things are agathokakological.

     I have more to say, but this post is fairly long, so I think I'll end it here and pick up with number four on Wednesday.  In the meantime, what are your thoughts?  What do you look for in your favoritism subplots?  Are there any particularly good/bad portrayals you've come across recently?  Let us know!

Two Ways To Add Drama To Your Novel

     Drama is important in your novel--one can argue that without drama, there is no novel.  You can write a book without an antagonist, a series without a singular set of characters, a play without a plot, a novel that's mostly a comedy, but you can't write anything without drama.  Drama is your meat and potatoes.  Maybe comedy or romance or fluff is your desert, and everybody loves them some pumpkin pie (or at least I do.  It's fine if you prefer cherry or apple or whatever.  More pumpkin for me.), but you can't eat that entire pie without a few solid meals in between.  You'd get sick and end up malnourished, and it wouldn't be a pretty sight, I assure you.

     Basically, without tension; stakes; DRAMATICALITY!, your jokes (or fluff, etc) will fall flat, because there will be no reason to care.  Even if your jokes are funny, your characters will have nothing to do, because there won't be any action propelling them to make the mistakes that people find endearing; action is all that drama is.  And without those elements, there's no reason for a novel to exist.  We could just as easily have picked up a joke book, or read some fanfiction and not have bothered with the lackluster story that's been presented to us.

     And if you're not writing a comedy or fluff piece, drama becomes all the more important--in fact, it becomes just about everything.

     There are lots of ways to add drama to your novel, but here are the two big mainstays of fiction.  They form the basis of basically everything your book is about, many times out of one hundred.

     The first thing you do is find out what the character fears most.  Is it snakes?  Commitment?  Flying?  That creepy old dude squatting in the porta-potty down the street?  Pinpoint that fear.  Point out that he's afraid, figure out why he's afraid.

     Then slap him upside the head with that fear; force him to face it head-on, and set the stakes high enough that he has to do it.  Make him the only one qualified to catch snakes to make a special anti-venom for his baby brother, tell him that if he doesn't marry his on-again off-again girlfriend that she'll be deported, shove him into a situation where the only way to find the mystical prince destined to save the world is to bring gift offerings to Porta-John and spend a week living with him in the cramped porta-potty for which he has named himself.

     Then, once he's faced a fear and come out stronger (or weaker) for it--do it again.  And again.  And again.  Repeat ad infinitum, or until your novel is finished.  Whichever comes first.

     The second thing to keep in mind when trying to stir up drama is what your character wants most.  Does she want to be a member of a famous band?  Does she want to go on an amazing adventure?  Marry the girl she's been crushing on for like, forever? To go to college and get an education so she can make her family proud?

     Now give it to her.  Make her work for it--or don't, either can work, depending on how the story is laid out; if the story starts with this sudden blessing bestowed upon her for no reason, that's fine!  It'll make the next step less tragic, if she hasn't done anything to earn it.  But let her have this one.  Let her earn this victory, become that band member, marry that girl, be the Chosen One--and then let her reap the consequences.

     Make them substantial.  Make them horrible and totally unexpected--make her doubt everything she's ever wanted; it's not so great, being a superstar, she finds, and her idols, it turns out, are total assholes; she quickly finds out that she doesn't actually know the girl of her dreams at all, and they're terribly incompatible--perhaps horrifically so; the adventure she wanted involves levels of violence and hardships the books never cover--she forgot that she was never good at gym class and probably should have thought this out a little better; and of course, the degree she wants isn't really the one she wants, and she wonders how she ever thought it was.

     For the best effect, sprinkle these twisted gifts with elements of her worst fears, and laugh as her life spirals down into something she never expected and doesn't quite have the skills to deal with.

     Now force her to find a way out on her own.  Whatever skills she lacks, she has to find a way to gain them, whatever mistakes she's made, she has to find a way out of it, no mysterious saviors, no easy solutions, no (or few) external forces, no Deus Ex Machinas--she got herself into it, and now she has to get herself out.

    And this, comrades, is the very heart of drama.