Apparently I missed the hype-train for Brandon Sanderson’s tome-of-tomes: The Way of Kings. Released in 2010, The Way of Kings is the first in a 10-book fantasy series, each installment longer than the entirety of The Lord of the Rings. #notatypo
Only the first three books have been released (Book 4 is due-out in late 2020), but the fanbase for entire series – The Stormlight Archive – is ravenous.
Having recently finished a different Sanderson novel (the wonderfully executed “Mistborn”) and watching some of my favorite booktubers glow about the series thus far, I eagerly picked-up Book One, expecting to rip through the thing faster than a windspren.
Now, before there’s any confusion: the book is NOT bad. If the vast majority of internet is to be believed, The Way of Kings has a fabulous payoff, and if you need to err on the side of a great beginning or a great ending, the latter is definitely where you want to land. But best-case scenario you don’t need to err at all. After all, a beginning must be good (at minimum) if you expect your audience to make it to the glorious ending.
I’m currently 200 out of 1,252 pages into The Way of Kings (mass-market edition), and the beginning has a wonderful hook through a well-crafted series prelude. The story then splits into multiple narratives with very distinct storylines. No problem there.
But these early chapters stumble just enough to prevent the story from being a riveting page-turner thus far (in my humble opinion, and believe me – I know I’m in the minority).
But, first things first: this is what pages 100-200 did well.
Shallan is a deep, layered character.
The best characters are the ones we can identify with. This doesn’t mean that we would necessarily make the same choices or perform the same actions. But it does mean that we have a sense of connection to them. In the grandest sense, it means that we understand them when they are misunderstood by the other characters in their story world.
This is true of Shallan, as she is on a secret mission to save her family from certain destruction. Despite her duplicitous plans, as an audience we are hard-core rooting for her success because we understand why she is on this path.
Greater still, we understand that, despite the audacity of her plan, as far as we know it’s her most feasible option, even though it’s likely to end in disaster. Because her desire to save her family is believable and because we believe she has no other choice, her journey becomes the one where sit glued to the pages.
Reading the first 200 pages, I was always most eager to return to her storyline because I buy into it, especially considering that she really isn’t equipped for the task.
Guys, character desire is one of the most vital aspects of storytelling. Get this wrong, and your audience will swiftly abandon your story in favor of one where the heroes are tunnel-vision focused on what they want. No desire, no story.
Which brings us to Kaladin.
It’s difficult to identify with Kaladin.
Now, I’m definitely going to tough his journey out for at least a few hundred more pages before making a judgement call, especially because word-on-the-street points towards Mr. Kal being a beloved character. I so hope this is true, because at this point, he’s not really a shining example of how to craft a major character, at least in the first 200 pages.
Before all of booktube starts throwing bookmarks at me, I’ll say that his character definitely improves by page 200, but we’ll get to that in a minute.
Kaladin’s main problem is that he’s utterly passive until that point. To boot, he has no visible desire.
Typically, this spells death, purely and simply, for a novel. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Shallan’s journey, I probably would have given up on the book. Even the incredible prelude wouldn’t have been enough to suffer through 200 pages of Kaladin’s moping.
And I get that that’s totally the point of Kaladin’s perspective. To show a sense of hopelessness. And it totally is hopeless. So hopeless, that it made me want to stop.
Here’s the thing. A character can be utterly forsaken and pummeled into the ground with absolutely no sense of viable direction. But, at least one of two things simply must be present (preferably both):
The audience must have an understanding of what the character wants. What’s his desire? Is there any type of motivation? In the deepest part of his soul, what he is seeking?
We don’t know these things with Kaladin. Sure, we know a wee bit of his backstory through an initial flashback, and we gain a bit more understanding of where he came from through the (much later) flashback of him as a ten year old. But we really don’t know anything about this character other than his most recent struggles. We don’t know what he wants. Even survival is kinda low on his priorities. We don’t get a sense that he would fight tooth-and-nail to save his life. There’s precious little to identify him with us.
Second, he’s utterly passive. There’s a lot going on in his mind, but he rarely does anything of his own initiative. Not enough to make that all-important audience connection.
Thank goodness for Shallan who saved this book. Because at the end of the 200 pages, Kaladin finally makes a choice. He finally becomes an active character. We still don’t know quite what he desires (although some guesses are starting to build), but his character has turned a corner and finally gotten out of his own head and made a small, yet defining choice.
After 200 pages, I’m finally eager to follow Kaladan’s journey and see how it connects with the rest of the tale.
To quote my three year old, “For the first time in forever” I’m eagerly awaiting the next opportunity to pick up The Way of Kings to delve into Shallan AND Kaladin’s journeys and discover how they will eventually intertwine.
In a weird way, I don’t blame Brandon Sanderson for making these character choices. He’s proven himself as a writer and The Stormlight Archive will likely be the greatest part of his life’s literary work. He’s trying to craft something where the parts are equal to the sum, to give us a world where we can jump around, experience literary experiments, and see some things that are outside the norm. The Way of Kings does these things.
How does this apply to new writers?
If you’re a writer, my encouragement to you is to take caution when setting-up your story. Give your characters desires from the beginning that your audience can quickly discover, even if they’re being false about it. Even if the desires change later.
Give your audience an aspect of your hero to identify with. Make them misunderstood by everyone but your readers. Wait to break the rules until you’ve mastered the rules.
Even Sanderson admits that he knew that he could never have started his career with The Way of Kings. But he’s now built his fanbase and his worlds to the point where he can try-out a few things. Some experiments will work, and some won’t. That’s the very subjective nature of writing, let alone crafting fiction.
Just remember, you’re not Sanderson. I’m not Sanderson. And that’s ok. Our job as storytellers is to learn how to tell the best stories possible, master the basics, then master the next steps, and on-and-on. There aren’t any shortcuts, but there’s beauty and joy in the journey that should make us want to follow the storytelling path, despite the multitude of unknowns.
While we write, let’s take as much inspiration as we can from Sanderson and others, graciously and humbling discovering how to learn from those who came before us, while not letting their success make us fearful to walk the written road.
Until next time, go write an epic story.
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