I was working on a story idea with a co-author, CM Stewart, and my Trope-o-meter™ went off. The main character would be doing something capital-E Evil and I was worried that it might send the wrong signal to make “that type of person” a bad guy.
Let’s be clear: in my world, people are people. However, when you publish your writing, you have an obligation to consider the reader’s sensibilities. So, while I don’t see “that type of person” versus “this type of person” so much in real life, I have to look at fictional characters that way.
The Trope-o-meter™ is my measurement for when a trope becomes a social norm. Just to keep this controversial, let’s single out American black men in film for this example. I see that some readers’ Trope-o-meter™s are already buzzing.
Stage One: No Such Thing – They don’t exist so far as movies are concerned.
Stage Two: They Do Exist – They exist but we won’t pay real black men to play real black men.
Stage Three: Henchmen – Too evil to be good, to stupid to be in charge.
Stage Four: Pure Evil – They are a preferred bad guy. Only smart at doing horrible things.
Stage Five: Good For Diversity – Rarely as bad guys, always as sidekicks or comic relief. Extra points if they die in a way that angers the hero.
Stage Five: Hero Material – They can be the heroes. It’s edgy and bold to cast them.
Stage Six: Actors – Actors are actors, cast them or don’t, as extras, as good guys, as bad guys.
Stage Seven: Blinders Off - Color is part of a character sometimes. When it is, consider it. Otherwise, actors are actors.
Society doesn’t hit each stage in an orderly, or predictable, manner. Sometimes the needle swings back and forth a bit. As a result, when I develop a character who is gay, for example, I remember the complaint one fan lodged against Joss Whedon when he killed off Tara on Buffy: “I’m not upset that you killed a gay character. I’m upset that you killed one of the few gay characters in mainstream media who was portrayed positively.”
If I create a character in a wheelchair who hunts puppies for sport, I do have to consider the number of wheelchair-bound characters, in any context, that are visible. If the numbers are low, the Trope-o-meter™ says no. I don’t always follow the Trope-o-meter™, but I do check it.
Imagine writing a book with a smart, philosophical assassin-for-hire and publishing it in 1950s America. Could be done, would be unusual. Now make the assassin Native American, female, and a dwarf – impossible. Fast forward to today and that riot-worthy character decision from the fifties probably would elicit a yawn from today’s readers. In the not-so-recent past, just making the kick-ass character female was enough to raise visibility. Now, it is accepted. The Trope-o-meter™ is pretty much at Stage Seven for powerful females.
When I can write a murderous one-armed lesbian Muslim with learning disabilities and have people ask, “Yes, but what is the story about?”
That’s the world I want to see.
