The Granularity of Good Stories

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Why can some stories with broad strokes – tropes really – satisfy us while others disappoint?  This subject came up in a writers’ group when we discussed tropes, and someone noticed simple stories of good versus evil could still satisfy as much as complex ones.  I responded that simple stories can still have depth as surely as a more nuanced work, because both had granularity.

However I wasn’t sure why I was saying that.  I could visualize what I meant, so to put it into words, I wrote this.

When we think granularity, we think of the level of detail in a report, a game’s graphics, or just a description’s detail.  Some things are “big and chunky” (8-bit game graphics), and others are “fine-grained” (research data catching differences among subjects).  Good stories, worldbuilding, and characters also have granularity – but the kind varies.

Look at what is often considered a “good” book or movie.  There’s depth to the characters and setting.  There’s subtle detail about motivations, political history presented subtly that still gives you a century’s events and Checkov’s guns that were more of an armory.  There are levels of fine detail there, like a painting of many colors and delicate brush strokes.

In short, “good” works are often ones with granularity, those details and extras that make it real in our minds.

But what of those simpler works we enjoy, one that may be very simple, trope-filled, or both?  Sure some are real simple, but aren’t many books and movies “good” without all the fine detail of other works?  In fact, I’d say yes – because a “good” work that’s simple or trope-filled can have granularity of a different kind.

The “good” broad, trope-filled book or show has granularity as well, just not at the level of more complex works.  Think of the difference between 8-bit graphics and modern cinematic videogames.  The first presents a world realized in big, colored, obvious dots.  The second is a subtle palette of colors and detail.  Both can delight, but they deliver a different experience.

The “good” book of broad strokes?  That’s the 8-bit game.  There are differences, there are details; they’re just big, obvious, and not always subtle.  But there is some level of granularity and detail, it’s just not the same or the same amount as other works.  It’s “chunky.”

A standard “charming rogue” character can be boring; we’ve seen that all before.  Let’s give them one trope of a soft spot – they never abandon their friends.  Next, throw in a flaw like overconfidence, another trope.  But that’s enough to tell an interesting tale about a person who’s dashing but not always responsible, never abandons people but overestimates their ability to do so.  Three tropes together give you enough depth to enjoy and feel something.

You need enough granularity to bring the characters and story to life.  Be it a “good” book of the incredible detail or a “good” show that is filled with tropes with enough big chunks of detail to give it meaning, you can enjoy yourself and the experience.

And you, my dear writer, just need to find what granularity does what you and your audience want.

Steven Savage

Let’s Get Irresponsible!

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

I belong to a writer’s group where people can become “accountability buddies.”  The  idea is you and your buddy check in with each other on progress and encourage/support each other.  It’s a great idea, but one I rarely do as my own planning/overplanning does the job and then some.  If anything I need someone to help me to slow down.

I joked to some friends that I needed an Irresponsibility Buddy.  Shortly after making that joke I realized it’s probably a great idea.  

Here’s how I see it working.

Pair up people in whatever creative group or groups you’re in as Irresponsibility Buddies.  Your goal is not to encourage productivity – far from it.  Instead your weekly checkins would ask such things as:

  • What did you do to relax?
  • Are you having fun?
  • How’s your stress level?
  • And so on as long as it has nothing to do with “hey, how much did you get done?”

Again, I am serious.  I certainly could have used this, except too many of my creative friends are as driven and anal-retentive as I am.  It would be nice to have someone check in on you without risking taking a friendly check-in as more pressure to perform.

Other creative groups – writers, cosplayers, etc. – could also build Irresponsibility into their meetups and checkins.  What did you do not related to your project?  What is a fun thing we can do together that is totally a waste of time?  Is everyone slacking off appropriately?

When I look at these ideas – which I would have laughed at ten years ago – I think they’re more needed now than ever.  This is because creative hobbies and efforts have changed in the age of the internet and late-stage capitalism.

We’re under more pressure to monetize things all the time – and have the tools to do it.  We’re in a social media microscope and feel accountable, pressured to perform, and in competition with everyone.  Everything is moving fast and we’re just trying to keep up (without asking if we should).

As many of you know around the middle of the year I slow down, doing less “scheduled” projects, taking time to experiment, etc.   In short I’m going to have fun and get in touch with my creative urges that are all-too-often yoked to a schedule.  Of course as I find Project Management fun, I cause my own problems a lot, but I recognize it.

Let me challenge you – how can you get irresponsible and unproductive?

Steven Savage

AI Zombies Hide Your Faces

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

If I were to sum up tech news of 2022 it would be “Musk” and “AI Generation.”  Enough has been written about Musk, but the use of AI to generate art and text is still fresh and needs to be discussed.

AI Generation is soulless, and I think that has not been adequately explored.  In fact, its very soullessness explains the revulsion some people rightfully feel.  There’s hatred for the use of work, for non-compensation for artists, the chance of lost jobs, but also we’re disgusted to see creative works called creative when there’s “no one home.”

I’m reminded of the Doctor Who episode “Robots of Death” with the amazing Tom Baker.  Beyond being a murder mystery, it explored “robophobia,” rooted in the idea that surrounded by human-like but not human-emoting mechanical creatures is like facing the living dead.  The Doctor was talking about what we call “the uncanny valley” these days – human-yet-not.

That’s what AI is.  Shambling would-be-people, zombies, robots, no one home.  That’s part of why we’re disgusted – but it’s worse.

Consider work that we feel connected to – some of that intimacy is shared with the creator as well. We know someone is on the other end, with goals, a style, a way of doing things.  In turn, we have a sense of the person on the other end who did their work, or screwed up, or tried.  We need that sense of connection to understand, feel safe around someone, or at least yell at them.

Creative work – from music to a news article – works when there’s a person there.  We humans need to know we can trust (or at least find and criticize) the creator.

Now let’s consider works that are derivative or calculated.  That knock-off work, that engineered political screed, they’re irritating to us because we can feel the manipulation.  Someone is being false with us, there’s an estimation on what will trigger us or appeal to us.  They might not even be who they say they are.

The person creating it is less such works is less reliable to us – unless we want to believe them.  That’s our problem for wanting to believe them, of course.

Then there’s AI work which is all calculation and manipulation.  A bunch of programs running math churns out a request that has “all the right parts,” and we perceive them as having meaning.  There’s no bright idea or inspiration at the center, no human ideas, not even the assurance someone wants to con us.  There’s a pile of words or pixels creating the illusion of value.

AI gives us a shambling zombie writing dead prose, or a robot pushing buttons it was told to, without the honor of having someone to hate directly for it..  It cannibalizes other, meaningful work without caring and gives nothing in return.  It’s a simulation of a person bearing a bright idea or an understandable nightmare.

AI brings no human connection to the experience.  It’s an attempt to create empty content, an illusion of humanity with no one to know or trust or criticize.  It’s void of meaning except that which we accidentally give it because it didn’t mean anything to the creator.  It’s a trick made by an undead set of equations.

These zombies are being used to manipulate us to drive advertising and sales.  That horror you feel in your gut is warranted because people want to flood the internet with soulless crap, and it’s inhuman.

Your disgust is quite human – and warranted.

Steven Savage