Theme

Finding a theme for your work is a daunting task. It’s almost expected that any work of writing should have a theme. At first I wondered why I couldn’t just write an enjoyable story, but then I thought back to all the enjoyable stories I’ve read/watched over the years, and most, if not all, of them, have a recognizable theme.

Sometimes authors use subtle, or not immediately recognizable themes. Tolkien’s work (and Jackson’s interpretations) in their grandeur and scale, often tease themes of a more everyday nature, and the juxtaposition is often heart-wrenchingly beautiful. The stories discuss bonds of friendship and the joys of a simple life while the characters traverse the known world to save everything in existence, producing a brilliantly effective theme.

By contrast, less disguised themes, when executed cleverly, can also elicit the audience’s joy. In HBO’s adaptation of Westworld, the main character often references a “path for everyone” in her musings. The story presents the idea of allowing all creatures to discover—and being allowed to discover—their own path in a clear and bold way.

Themes can also be faceted or layered. For example, superhero movies often follow an overarching theme of teamwork, but each individual hero’s storyline can have a theme unto itself—standing up for justice, rooting for the underdog, overcoming hardships, and the list goes on.

My current work in progress takes place in a world where folks historically fear the unknown and seldom leave the comfort of their environment. The characters often say things like “Stick to the road,” “Trust your compass,” or “Mind the guideposts.” However, as a journey-based fantasy, the main point-of-view characters are yanked out of their environments and thrust headfirst into the uncertainty of what they’ve never experienced, often against others’ well-intentioned admonition. In my next round of revisions I plan to nail down that concept as a theme and develop it more soundly. I’m sure many other stories tackle a similar theme, but my characters will lend a unique perspective.

Therefore, don’t stick to the road. Trust your gut just as much as your compass. Note the guideposts, but decide for yourself where your journey will take you.

Future

I love to write, but like many folks in the creative world, I had a day job too. That day job allowed me to have a nice apartment, food on the table, frequent travel, and so many other things I never thought I took for granted but never had to live without. All that was turned upside down when, along with so many of my colleagues in the tourism marketing and hospitality industry, our company laid off half of the workforce including my position and others on my team.

It’s been three months now (I know that because my health insurance has just run out), and I know I’m not alone in feeling anxious and skeptical during this experience. An interesting side effect, however, was the overabundance of time that I never had before. Time to reflect, time to nap, time to cook, and most excitingly, time to write.

I’ve written as long as I can remember. As a child I would re-write my children’s books in a ruled notebook. In my preteen years I explored poetry and used my family members as characters in a chapter story I made up based on a computer game (I would release a chapter each year at our family reunions). I cringe at the memory, but they thought it was cute. As a young adult I began crafting the basis for epic novels. I still have some of my early notebooks with pages of character descriptions and brainstorming on sci-fi creatures, maps, and environmental settings. I was worldbuilding without ever having heard the word. And I loved it.

Twenty years later, as of March 2020, I had come much further in my writing adventure. I had two viable concepts and at least half of a draft written for each, but no real motivation or energy to take it seriously. After getting laid off, that all changed. I chose one of the two stories and I wrote every single day. I dove deep into the characters and their relationships. I worked on dialogue. I nailed down the plot. I filled in all the gaps. I started taking my Twitter profile seriously. Now, after three months, I have a solid second draft that I am so, so proud of. As of this moment, four gracious souls are reading the draft to give me their critiques, two friends/family and two complete (vetted) strangers.

I can’t say how it will all turn out. My private goal has always been to publish traditionally, whether or not I’ve admitted it out loud or taken the steps to achieve it. The prospect is daunting and with all the amazing authors and steep competition, I’m nervous to even try. Yet, the fact that I’ve survived for three months without a job for the first time in my whole career has taught me that anything is possible, for better or worse. Querying agents is a tangible goal I can focus on. I have to try. The worst they can say is “no.” I’ll keep job searching, of course, staying motivated, and focusing on my physical and emotional health, but in the meantime I have my eye on the future.

Reminiscence

Reminiscing is to remembering as savoring is to eating. 

Many of our meals happen rushed, without thought and without real enjoyment. In fairness, not everyone finds equal satisfaction in their food (I struggle to understand this but it's true). And yet, the perception of what constitutes a gratifying meal varies from person to person. Often, we simply haven’t the time or resources to orchestrate an enjoyable food experience. Even more unfortunately, we often lack the desire or will to make any efforts toward a properly delicious meal.

The same happens with our memories. We catapult through life, constantly in search of the next unique adventure, barely stopping to actually live through our experiences in a way that will allow us to remember. It seems we automatically whip out our devices as a first instinct to document memorable moments, but as our attention drifts we sacrifice actual memories.

We are daily enticed to engage with those same devices instead of dedicating time to reminisce on the images, clips and sounds recorded in our most valuable storage center, our memory.

True, those choosing consumption for consumption’s sake over savory delight may confound us. I argue, however, that neglecting our reminiscence in favor of the moment may be short sighted and naive. Perhaps.

Honor

We generally accept honor as a positive trait. Honorable people put others before themselves and seek the greater good for its own sake, generally.

First of all, I should recognize that honor is not inherently an emotion, so therefore it shouldn’t fit into this analysis exercise. However, the more I brainstormed, the more I wanted to explore what this trait means.

Honor often appears in literature, movies and other genres of entertainment. It’s almost too easy to include because it’s such a conflicting trait, usually beginning positive but backfiring somehow.

Some cultures teach their youth to value honor above all else, but what happens when their honor requires them to enact vengeance upon the innocent? Some countries label their finest soldiers honorable but only in direct relation to the ruthlessness of their fighting. Meanwhile, those who refuse to fight are called cowards or traitors. As an even juicier plot line, those who have lost honor may go to unspeakable, deplorable lengths to regain it. It’s the perfect paradox.

Clearly, honor is a two-sided coin. One side shiny, pristine and the other mucked, usually with blood. This could be what makes honor such a desirable character trait for fiction, because the same admirable trait can quickly and easily become a deadly flaw.

Wonder

There are certain incredible things about childhood that we tend to lose with age. Wonder is one of them. Children have an innate ability to simply... wonder.

What happens to us? As we age (and learn) we may simply have less to wonder about. As we get accustomed to reality, we may find that wondering disappoints more often than it gratifies. In fact, practically everything we do in life we do for the results. Work, exercise, study are all finitely results-oriented. Even many recreational pastimes depend on the score or the win. We often forget that the purpose of wondering has nothing to do with the result.

It's true, curiosity prompts us to pursue specific goals—finding answers, understanding concepts or solving problems. Curiosity is educational. It stems from strategy, or the active desire to complete a void. It can thus be satisfied, tied up neatly with a bow and effectively discarded.

Wonder, on the other hand, happens abstractly. Imaginatively. It generally lacks boundaries, structure, direction or finish lines. Its extreme passivity demands little to no investigation whatsoever. Our wonders lead us from one idea to another without making us feel the need to define, answer or complete the nebulous progression of thought. Wonder is not so suicidal as curiosity. It doesn't need to find the answer.

Perhaps that's why no cats were ever killed by wonder.