Expected Enjoyment

(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 was discussing popular works with Serdar, and both had experienced the pressure to enjoy something everyone else was enjoying.  I felt it had gotten worse in the last two decades and was honestly getting the hell on my nerves.  There were more choices, but it seemed more pressure to like certain things, and I’ve been trying to articulate it.

I grew up with “Must See TV” and every year had some blockbuster in the theater, but that was different.  Dallas was big, but people seemed to accept it might not be your cup of tea – and I was ten, so I didn’t care.  I loved Star Wars, but it was a bolt-of-lightning thing, and no one expected everyone to like it.  There were Big Things, but I don’t recall the sheer pressure to like them.

The ever-expanding world of cable television, foreign films, anime, and the internet brought us even more options.  In the 1990’s the idea of something being Mandatory Fun (apologies to Weird Al) was alien to me – there was something for everyone and more of it all the time.  Why have something feel mandatory?

Then came Harry Potter.  I am loathe to discuss it due to the author’s horrid transphobia, but as this is a historical rant and thus I strive for accuracy.

Harry Potter was something everyone seemed into, and I felt pressure to read it, which irritated the hell out of me.  I think the fact that it was an internet sensation made it omnipresent, people didn’t get you might not be into it because all their friends were.  It was an internet-fueled Blockbuster.

(I did eventually read it, by the way, after people had backed off.)

To this day, the internet and social media have a selective amplification effect.  Something can take off, amplified by social media algorithms and good marketing, and soon you’re sick of hearing about it. Chats, posts, memes, etc. all amplify certain things repeatedly – people doing marketing for free.  At some point, you’re missing having a political argument with your crazy relatives because they’re busy telling you about this new TV show you have to watch.

The wealth of movies, shows, and books we have doesn’t free us either – and I blame social media and marketing for that as well.  People can easily find fellow fans – and assume everyone else has similar interests.  Algorithm-driven ads target you relentlessly.  More choices somehow led to more pressure, and we’ve forgotten not everyone cares about the same things.  Now we just have more not to care about.

Finally, you have the synergy of media universes: Marvel, Star Trek, and Star Wars.  These giant unified properties (and marketing efforts) amplify each other.  Show A leads to movie B, leads to webseries C, all funneling you into a giant media matrix.  Throw in social pressure and social media amplification trying to manipulate you, and you start feeling like you’re a very poor take of They Live, only you’re not as cool as Rowdy Roddy Piper.

We’re living inside a giant marketing machine of technology and social habits.

I’m not proposing a way out, I’m here to analyze and complain.  Perhaps I’ll present some brilliant solutions in the future, but right now, I understand better, saying “no” more, expanding my horizons, and just doing what I like.

Maybe I’ll have more to say.  But now I’m just glad to have it out of my head – and into yours.  So I’d love your thoughts.

Steven Savage

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

Down The Audience Hole

(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)

As my regular readers are aware, I’ve been finding myself dissatisfied with a lot of media today.  There’s something unsatisfying about too much of it, at least to my mental palate.  It seems samey, it seems to lack depth, it seems so manufactured.

It’s not necessarily bad, I just feel there’s so much that’s machining and adjustment something is lost, that weirdness and wildness that’s so vital for a work to catch on your soul.  I enjoy weird challenge shows, but they seem to be everywhere and at times oddly specific.  I am glad to see great adaptions out there, but I’d like some more original and new stuff.  I enjoy many a youtube program, but there’s a lot of shouty angry people cluttering my recommendations.

I’ve wanted to understand how creativity can get so channeled into sameness without much of an edge.  Originally I wrote it off as large media conglomerates and feedback loops.  Recently, I encountered something that made see what I’d missed.

I listen to a podcast on conspiracy theories today, the snarky-but-heartfelt QAnonAnonymous.  They’ve started covering weird Influencers that focus on men, and one caught my attention.  In fact, I’m not mentioning the person by name as their story is dismal.

The podcasters and guest charted this Influencer’s gradual evolution from fitness guru to bizarre sexist religious extremist.  The hosts’ usual humor was tempered with pity as they played videos from different eras of the man’s career.  His current – perhaps – final form is a man so obviously unhappy with himself  the hosts felt sad for him despite his radicalization.

One thing the podcasters explored was the idea of Audience Capture.  One tells the audience what they want to hear and they get rewarded.  If audiences have any extreme demands, the Influencer may feed them – and become captured by them.  Charting the degeneration of their subject, it was clear that he’d been an Influencer most of his life, and thus very vulnerable.

I’m thinking Audience Capture is part of my dissatisfaction.  Now I wonder how many repetitive Isekai, samey crime shows, angry Influencers, and good-but-too-manufactured movies and books are due to Audience Capture.  Hell, maybe some failed media is books or shows or whatever that tried to appeal to an audience that moved on.

I’m guessing Audience Capture is something the captured don’t notice.

Now that I have a new tool to understand my experiences and disatisfication, I’m curious as to what I’ll learn.  In fact, ask yourself how many Influencers or authors or films you know that went off the rails went because of Audience Capture.

I’d love to hear your experiences, even if it might depress both of us.

Steven Savage