New chapter and some thoughts on drama

People seem to do blogs for these, so hey, have this update link.

To make the rest of this informative to those of you who find the above irrelevant to your interests (though if you give it a spin that may very well change), here's Casca talking about the thing he's been binging on for the past, I dunno, two weeks: manhwa.

Tower of God is a Korean webcomic that features, among other things, drastic power level gaps, long A/Ns, worldbuilding in the form of supplementary notes within said A/Ns, fairly slow pacing. It doesn't sound fantastic, and quite a few of these are things we hit each other over the head for, but why, why on earth does it work so amazingly as it does?

Seriously, I kid you not. This is turning out to be my favourite manga of all time, second perhaps only to Onepunch-Man in the action genre, because even in fan-frenzy I am aware that comparing it to, say, Bakuman (amazing) or Death Note (if you ignore the lacklustreness that is the Mello arc), is unfair.

When I say binge, I mean that I read 50, 60 chapters in one run, chasing until I'm up to date to wait with the rest of the population for our weekly drug. It was almost worryingly easy for me to do so; there is simply no good reason why, once in, you should stop.

And that got me thinking: what gives works this degree of immersive power, and how can I use it for my own writing?

Tower of God is set in this tower. Said tower is humongous, with each floor being the size of a small continent. The story follows Baam, a powerless boy, who chases after his only friend in the world, Rachel, who in turn has gone to climb the tower. Reaching the top allows you to receive any wish you want; Rachel's is to see the stars (they live in some kind of cave) and Baam's is just to find Rachel.

Each level is markedly different in terms of scenery. There's the dark dungeons of the bottom floor. There's this castle floating in the sky above a vast plain on the second floor. On the 25th is a clean, high-tech city that's bustling and full of people making regular livings and living in rented rooms and whatnot. The tower is huge and each level offers something new. In terms of worldbuilding there is nothing to base expectations on; you just accept it in unexpected surprise.

The races that try to climb the tower, for there are many, have many different skill-sets and powers. One of the main cast is extremely good at strategy, and it is his elaborate, cunning, outright awesome plans that make the first arc exceptional. It is never an outright "oh look at this MC with a really cool power" but more of a "oh look at this enemy with a really cool power against an MC with no powers whatsoever". The challenges that one must pass to climb each new level are games with set rules for strategy to thrive in; it is never just "rah look fighting more fighting cool powers rahhhh" - there is a definite intelligence in the plotting, and it keeps a strong balance with the fighting itself to produce something refreshing.

But what makes it a clincher is the drama. The author himself makes plenty of note of it, and hey, it's Korean, and what follows after that word is either "pop" or "drama". The drama, as it should be, is born from the different motivations and conflicts of these, as well as personalities, of the characters at play. There are a few complicated characters, but most have fairly straightforward, almost stock personalities. The reckless, violent dinosaur-thing. The cold, collected samurai archetype. The goofy straggler. But it's when the backstories, the reason for the motivation, as well as surprising talents come in, that the crew become memorable. How characters can have the same goals and personalities at first glance, with this due to very different circumstances - and to see these clash - and before you know it, hey, drama.

So why? Why does it work the way it does?

Writing limitations aside, I believe that a lot of it has to do with simply engaging the reader's intelligence. If you're reading with your free time, it shows at least a certain degree of momentum in brain activity. By giving them unique stories or characters to look at, and pushing them in unique situations, you craft around the mind - as it takes these in, it resonates. But that is not enough - you also need to deliberately withhold pieces of the puzzle. The human mind figures out stuff. It's what it's supposed to do. Give all the pieces and they get bored, either because they've solved it or because there's too many pieces, and the brain goes "lolnope". Give too few and you create frustration. But give just the right amount, feeding it as it goes along, and you've hooked yourself a reader...

Pacing. Pacing, pacing. Is it an actual thing? It seems to be so - some people believe that there is no such thing - though I prefer to think that it's simply being aware that you can't indulge your readers too much too quickly. Settle on some restraint and the pacing fixes itself.

Not only this, but realize that when you create a new world you give the reader more than one puzzle to solve. Worldbuilding of a new scene. Characters and personalities. Powers. Plot. Each of these develop-able devices are puzzles, and balancing the amount of pieces you give per puzzle can help greatly in creating a well-rounded work. This is where genre and focus come into play. Slice-of-life focuses primarily on character interaction of the decidedly non-actiony type, so powers are out of the equation, and the task falls to creating a puzzle of daily life. Dark fics features a strong psychological and mystery component to generate suspense and reading momentum. Romance fics feature puzzles of the emotional variety. Knowing the story you want to write, and marking down the soul of the matter, can help in the planning of stories.

But of course, that's if you're the crafting, planning type. This kind of conceptual discussion probably wouldn't fare too well with the majority of writers who do it for the lulz, who do it spontaneously. And while I find myself having more fun with the latter, I know that I can produce better quality work when I comply to the former. Meticulous planning and plotting and outlining gives my work structure that is very absent in my spontaneous bursts, and this always comes back to bite every time I wind up 10k+ words into a fic. Always.

But, yes - puzzle pieces, restraining, deliberately withholding catharsis. Also go read ToG because it is amazing. Stay tuned and stay awesome.

P.S. Ah, right, the original reason I wanted to do this post: editing Chapter 6 took over an hour. I am surprised at this. That is all.