Why Don't Characters Just?
Maybe "Efficiency" is the Real Flaw
*** This post contains spoilers for Tick Tock ***
There’s a common author’s axiom that if you don’t hate your earlier works, you’re not doing it right. It doesn’t mean that the work is unforgivably awful and should be thrown in the shredder, yourself the author burned at the stake, it just means that your craft has improved and you have matured to the point where you can now physically and psychologically see and understand those improvements and the differences between who you were then and who you are now. This cycle will repeat every few years, assuming you work diligently at your craft.
For a long time, over the past few years, I hated the first four books of The Chivalrous Welshman. I thought they were horrific monstrosities, products of a naive idiot who didn’t get enough feedback, published way too soon, and who should have just ended the series and moved on with something else instead of spiraling out of control into the leviathan that The Timekeeper Chronicles has become.
I still think this, except I no longer hate my earlier works. Actually, I find them rather fascinating now, choosing to regard them more as antiques, snapshots into the life of a bygone era. Instead of thinking, “She was an uneducated moron,” I choose to reframe it as, “What was she working with, and what was the thought process of the time?”
This reframing not only smooths over some of my own ruffled feathers, but it has helped me recognize some of the nascent epiphanies that I was having at the time, both about the story itself and writing as a craft.
The biggest offender that I have so far reconciled with in this way is Tick Tock, the second book of The Chivalrous Welshman. One part of my brain was saying, “Let’s go on an alien adventure” while another part of my brain was asking, “Why don’t they just teleport in and out? Why the adventure?” One was thinking about the emotion and the nostalgia, the other was considering the logic and logistics. Ultimately, the emotional nostalgia won out, and the logical part of me resented it for years.
The basic premise of the story is that Walter is dying of a supposedly incurable illness and Tommen must go to an alien world to find an alleged cure. But where it is, is not the most friendly of territories or people, and the person helping him, although influential, is still on the political back foot. More than that, however, the timing of this quest lines up with certain goings-on and ceremonies that must be observed, thereby delaying the quest and pushing Walter ever closer towards death.
Emotional Me took over from the start, running through the first half of the adventure like Bilbo Baggins going on an adventure. Then, somewhere around the 2/3 mark, Logical Me asked, “Why don’t they just teleport in and out?” Emotional Me got mad and threw a tantrum and declared that we were not rewriting this whole damn book, not after coming so far. The best Logical Me was able to get was some oblique explanation from Sifura about observing customs.
For a long time, I hated Tick Tock because of what I considered to be a massive logical flaw in the book.
Only recently did I start to reconsider.
On what grounds was I considering it to be illogical? And the only thing I could come up with was that it simply wasn’t “efficient.” It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t instantaneous, it wasn’t efficient, but it was, honestly, still logical.
I’ve said it before and I still stand by the statement that character choices (made consistently in character or within a character arc) are not plot holes. In order for a character to have agency, they must be able to make choices, and those choices have to mean something. If Dialogue Choice A and Dialogue Choice B are going to link directly to the same next piece of Dialogue, why bother with the choice? Now, they can ultimately lead to the same end, but the journey toward that end should be different; there should be something new to be learned, something exclusive to each journey.
Worldbuilding isn’t just about what your characters, races, cultures, et al can do, but what they can’t do. There must be limitations and restrictions, and they don’t always have to make sense. And there ought to be consequences, be they real or perceived, for crossing those lines. For example, some people get upset if their total at checkout comes to $6.66, and they will intentionally put an item back or buy something else just to make it not $6.66. In their mind, their restriction revolves around the Mark of the Beast, and in their mind, something bad will happen if they complete that transaction. Maybe it’s silly, maybe it’s not. Or you can go on social media and pose the question about something that isn’t technically illegal but feels like it should be, such as not turning around when getting on an elevator. Or some taboo at a party, like not clicking the tongs twice before grilling.
All of those are mild or silly things. Now consider more consequential things. In the case of Tick Tock, trespassing and petty theft.
Why can’t they just teleport? Well, no one in the plucky band of heroes knows where the hell they’re going. Even Sifura has only a vague idea, but she’ll need to talk to the D’Bok to be sure. In order to talk to the D’Bok, she’ll need to bring a peace offering. She and Tommen are only two people; they’re not going to strongarm the D’Bok into anything, and the D’Bok have every right to shoot trespassers. They know Sifura because she is a leader of the Xur, and catching her running around on their land could have repercussions for her people which she wants to avoid.
The going is treacherous, and they’ll need a way to get around, which means a skimmer. To get a skimmer, they’ll have to start in Sifura’s village. Before they can leave, they have to observe a feast.
All of this is a chain reaction of culture and obligations and consequences, things that must be done, things that must not be done.
It dawned on me that “Why don’t they just teleport in and out” is intellectually similar to “Why don’t homeless people just commit a crime so they can go to jail and get food and shelter”. Well if you thought that hobo was having a hard time finding a job because he’s homeless, just wait until he’s got a rap sheet. It could also be likened to, “Why do I have to follow the rules if I’m obviously bigger/faster/stronger/smarter/etc”. In other words, why should the rules apply when I have the ability to flout them? Why should Tommen and Sifura follow the rules?
For Tommen, if he’d had the ability to open portals and knew where the hasax was, he absolutely would have just teleported in and out. He has no connections to any of the cultures, no obligations, and he faces no real consequences. However, he ended up attached to someone who was bound by rules and obligations. Imagine if you, a decent human being, were hanging out with the aforementioned hobo, but he was an evil murder hobo, and every time he wanted something, he just robbed someone who was smaller than him or broke into a store he knew had no security. You would be appalled. Assuming you were alive and hadn’t been mugged and murdered by him for your clothes and wallet. But that’s not how things work in your society. You’re perfectly willing to help him, but it has to be done in the right way, even if that way is a little slower, a little more inconvenient.
Maybe it’s an American thing, or maybe it’s just a modern thing, but we very much like things to be “efficient” or else “how we would do things.” Why don’t the characters JUST? Because that’s not always how things are. That’s like believing that you only need to make one trip to Home Depot when working on a project. Inevitably, you will make more than one trip. Because things happen.
A straight line may be the shortest distance between two points, but it is by no means the most interesting. (The Fourth Doctor, I think.) Efficiency is not the name of the game. Not here. Sifura is not American. She is not human. She is not bound by our rules. But she is bound by her rules and the rules of the people whom she visits. And that is what needs to be respected.
Is Tick Tock still flawed? Yes. Is it a logical flaw? No, not really. As a matter of fact, it is very logical because it is acting in a way that accentuates the constraints of Sifura’s world and her relationship to her own people and neighboring peoples. Worldbuilding isn’t just about what is expected and allowed, but what isn’t.
Philosophical Thoughts
A man has four children. He comes home one day and is greeted by the first child.
“Dad! Come here and look at this!”
The child takes him out to the backyard and shows him a shed. This shed is superb in its construction, made with the finest materials, every angle precise, no gaps whatsoever, sturdy enough that it could probably withstand an earthquake.
“Wow! This is amazing!” the dad says.
His second child approaches him.
“Dad! Come on, dinner’s ready!”
They go up to the back deck where the second child opens up the grill and the smoker to reveal a large quantity of meat. It’s been seasoned and cooked to perfection, fork-tender and juicy, spicy but not overwhelming, with soft, succulent bits of fat.
“Wow! This tastes amazing!” the dad says.
His third child approaches him.
“Dad! Let’s go out on a hike!”
So the two of them go out on the back trails, hiking hills, crossing streams, talking sometimes and being quiet at other times, and finally emerging at a place that lets them overlook the area. Overhead, the stars glitter against a dark velvet sky while the moon lights their way home.
“Wow! That was amazing!” the dad says.
When they get home, it’s time for bed. The three children see themselves to their nightly routine. But the dad goes to the fourth child.
The fourth child isn’t like the others. The fourth child is special, can’t move very well, can’t speak but a few words.
“Dad! Read!”
It’s been the same book for the last eight months, but judging by the look on this child’s face, every night, every reading is a brand new experience, with tears and laughter from both of them as the characters go through their familiar antics. When the story is over, the dad puts his fourth child to bed.
“Wow,” the dad whispers, closing the door. “That was amazing.”
Which child is the dad’s favorite?