Killing Your Darlings

Okay, full confession, this post has nothing to do with the famous quote by William Faulkner that “In writing, you must kill all your darlings”: the advice that you must remove all characters, words and side plots that take the emphasis away from your main story. A notion I happen to believe is rubbish in the context of fantasy writing, where the rich texture of your prose is the story.

This post is nothing to do with that.

I spend much time on the social media site: Mastodon, where I engage with many other writers. A recent debate surrounded killing characters. This was the question:

I glibly suggested that I love killing characters and do it to put the reader off balance, but that’s not entirely true. As a pantser or discovery writer (someone who likes to create most of the story in the moment rather than plotting ahead), I don’t plan many character deaths far in advance. Two characters in the Nifaran Chronicles would always die, but the rest happened organically as the story progressed.

I’m not spoiling any moments from the Nifaran Chronicles by revealing the details, but here are some reasons and story arcs where a character’s death packs a punch.

Satisfying comeuppance.

An oldie but a goodie, this common trope sees a vile character meet a grisly end. Almost as if the gods have intervened to punish evil deeds. When the writer has built a character into a hateful figure, it can give the reader a moment of air-punching joy when they come unstuck. This tactic works incredibly well if the tension builds over a protracted period. Think Hans Gruber falling from the Nakatomi tower or the beancounter devoured by a T-Rex while sitting on the toilet in Jurrasic Park.

Redemption through Sacrifice.

A character might have a shady past or be responsible for a hidden atrocity. The invisible gods will take this character’s life, but not before the individual performs a selfless act of redemption, possibly by saving another character’s life. I love these bitter-sweet moments and enjoy building the backstory leading to the character’s demise.

New blood.

In one instance, a prominent character will die, leaving a subordinate to take the reins, someone who never envisaged themselves as a leader. A character’s death can allow the writer to take the story in a new direction. I used this opportunity to promote an older character who thought of themselves more as a teacher.

The Example.

I’m not too fond of this one, and I’m not sure I could ever do it to a main character. In this scenario, the antagonist kills a minor character to demonstrate their power and ensure obedience. A classic example is the killing of Missandei, a death which felt cheap and unnecessary to me.

Our big bad can kill for simple hatred or even sport in a variation on this theme. I used this to galvanise a particular secondary character into an act of vengeance. The trope is often used this way, but it's not something I would use a lot.

The Hero.

Also known as the Hodor moment. If you’re familiar with Game of Thrones, you may remember a character named Hodor who sacrifices his life to save his friends by holding a door closed. I’d built a haunting backstory for one of my characters, a character which I loved.

Late in development, I decided this character wouldn’t make it. The character almost sees it as their purpose to sacrifice themselves to save their friends.

Overwhelming odds.

I always get that sinking feeling when I see a Hollywood blockbuster where the heroes survive a hail of bullets without a scratch and beat an enormous army with only a few martial arts moves. I’m looking at you, Marvel.

The Magnificent Seven has always been one of my favourite movies and was a significant inspiration for Vega Rising, the second part of the Nifaran Chronicles. In the film, our gunslingers face a massive group of Mexican bandits. Of the original seven, only three men survive.

While I have more survivors than that, I did want the reader to feel a real sense of jeopardy; any character might die during the battle.

Star-crossed lovers.

A pair of characters meet in strange circumstances. They each have their own lives but are drawn to each other and have more in common than anyone they know. The relationship can never work, but it doesn’t stop them from falling in love.

So why kill one off? Again, it gives the narrative purpose. With one character gone, it gives the other renewed determination and a don’t give a shit attitude which serves them well in the trials to come. It also sets up a future side plot where the sibling of one of the characters pledges revenge.

That moment.

I love to fill my writing with all the emotions I can: humour, excitement, tension, horror and grief. There is one particular moment in Vega Rising that made me cry when I wrote it and every time I read it back. I can’t go into the details because of SPOILERS; however, I decided that not all the good guys could survive the big battle, and many would need to be characters the readers cared about.

The scene was inspired by an old movie called The War of the Roses with Micheal Douglas and Kathleen Turner.

The Beast Must Die.

Everyone expects the antagonist to be defeated and probably killed, but doubt and ambiguity can help to add a touch of realism. Could the baddie be redeemed, could they come back from the dead (as they seem to in Marvel movies), or will the cycle be completed, kind of. You'll need to read Vega Rising to find out. Coming soon.

Holywood loves to kill major characters at the end of a franchise, but they milk it to death (pun intended). Sometimes a character's death can pack a greater emotional punch when they're just gone. The shock of losing a beloved character in such a way can really set the tone that nobody is safe.

The Shock Death.

Jed Mercurio is one of my favourite TV writers; he writes Line of Duty on British TV. Actress Jessica Raine won't be known to US audiences, but she's well known for her role in Call-the-midwife, a soapy UK period drama. In the first episode of series two of Line of Duty, she's killed off in the first half hour after being thrown through a window. We don't see her after this, but the emotional punch is fantastic.

Perhaps I do like to push the reader off balance.

In summary, I want the reader to feel the same emotions I feel when writing the story, as if I’m taking them on an adventure and I’m the guide. I don’t relish killing my characters, but I enjoy the narrative challenges and opportunities they present.

That's all for now.

John Howes.