Reread Larry Correia’s first novel, Monster Hunter International, this time looking for answers to the million dollar question: what does a highly successful first novel look like? What can I, a very modest writer with 1 – count ’em, I mean, it – *1* paid work published in my soon to be 64 years on this earth, learn from it?
A lot, it turns out. *Spoilers ahoy!*
First off, the overall structure is what you’d expect: epic fight scenes tied together with character introductions and character building. The only surprise, perhaps, is the use of visions and flashbacks to fill in the blanks. So the story looks like:
- Epic Battle
- Vision
- Character introductions/development
- Prep for next epic battle
- Repeat to finis.
It’s not quite this clean, as many of the visions are broken up into segments by more connecting tissues. Also, what I’m calling here character introductions/development always involves actions that move the story forward – Correia is way too good to put in very much stand alone yakking. But that’s the overall shape. Starts and ends with an epic battle; key characters are introduced and slowly revealed in a very satisfying way.
Many characters are drawn well enough to make you emotionally invested in them – major characters, including the protagonist Owen, his love interest Julie, fellow newbies Trip and especially Holly, as well as any number of minor characters such as the Orcs Skippy and Gretchen, and Agents Franks and Myers, are generally deftly and sympathetically drawn. The Old Man of the visions and many of the other characters are stereotypes but not, generally, in a bad way. In most cases, they are fleshed out enough to make them distinct enough personalities that you grow to like or loath them as appropriate over the course of the story.
A few don’t quite work as well. Earl Harbinger is supposed to be mysterious, which works to his disadvantage as far as making him likeable or sympathetic. It’s more like you know he’s supposed to be likeable and sympathetic rather than those emotional ties developing more organically. Being utterly indestructible without a Lois Lane weakness to offset it also dampens one’s emotional investment. The elves, intended as comic relief, fall flat, unlike the orcs, who quite literally rock. The difference might be that Skippy and Gretchen get fleshed out and have heroic moments, while the elves are simply appalling.
But these are minor quibbles. Most emphatically, the characters work. The battles are all epic and emotionally (if not always logically) satisfying.
Characters are a major strength in this book. It’s almost the anti-Asimov approach: while the old master tried to wow the reader with cool ideas so that they overlooked the cardboard characters and their often numbingly dumb motivations, Correia alternates between blistering action and getting the readers to invest in the characters. The stand out for me was Holly Newcastle. She is fearless, remorseless, irreverent – and a former pole dancer built like a brick house. By the end, it’s impossible not to love her.
As far as the plot goes, stuff done got blowed up good. The conceit – that B-movie monsters are very real, and we’re being kept in the dark about them because people can’t handle the truth – makes for a lot of hilarious banter, and epic battles. That some monsters – some orcs, one lone werewolf, a Wendigo – might be good guys or at least not bad guys, is a nice touch. But in general, the bad guys are cannon fodder, meant not to elicit any sympathy when they meet their generally gruesome demises. Correia goes out of his way to mock the whole sparkly misunderstood vampire thing, which I appreciate.
Correia lavishes attention on the weapons, which was part of the appeal to his original target audience – other gunnies. I had no idea what he was talking about much of the time, and looked up some guns just to get an idea. Evidently, his descriptions of the gunplay is dead on, which, again, appeals to his target audience.
The way the story unfolds is just amazing upon rereading. Even though I’d read it before, I still was kept hanging: each bit of information about what’s going on and who these people really are is, itself, a cliff-hanger. We are left wondering how much more we don’t know after each bit or clue is revealed. Correia is juggling a lot of pieces, and rolls them out just an inch at a time, yet, by the end, we feel satisfied. The twists revealed in the final battle are all set up nicely. Lord Machado is righteously despicable but not incomprehensibly so, and ends up being the dupe. That Owen ends up being the hero of the prophesy made more sense on this rereading, as the clues were all there.
The magical elements are simply used as needed. I’m usually not aa fan of magic, for precisely this reason – it tends to be an easy out. How do we escape from this inescapable situation? It’s MAGIC! Here, it’s used about as well as anywhere this side of Lord of the Rings. Magic is important, as is the nature of the beast, but not overdone. Character reigns supreme.
The only parts that fell a little flat for me were the elves as mentioned above, and the rather loose logic of the last battle. Stuff just kind of happens a lot of the time. Only once was I taken out of the moment, however. Skippy rescues Owen and Julie who are falling to their deaths from – a mountain in a pocket Universe? Just how does one fly a helicopter into such an event? And figure it out fast enough that you’re already up in the air and ready to go when it happens? And you see it happen? In a story full of vampires and zombies, that was the only time I went ‘O, come on!’ – which is pretty impressive, when you think about it.
I don’t know which would be more impressive: plotting all this craziness out in detail before hand, or winging it an yet making it come out in the end. Either way, this is some good work.
So, what are the take-aways? What should I do to increase the chances that my first novel will find some readers?
First off, on the non-novel side, Correia had a ready-made audience for his writings through his involvement with the gunny community. This only worked because he understood what they wanted and gave it to them.
Next, Corriea is a very intelligent guy, extremely well-read. This allows for him to add all sorts of detail. He writes scenes in modern day Alabama, WWII Germany, and ancient Mesoamerica with Conquistadores and native Indian civilizations. It would be easy to lose people with false steps, but, at least for me, he made none. It all seemed real.
On to the writing itself. The strength of the story for me is the characters. It’s almost a fish out of water story, given the fundamental goofiness of the premises. What we have are a group of somewhat normal people from all walks of life who 1) survived being attacked by B-movie monsters; 2) get trained up as commandos; and 3) face constant life-or-death challenges. The key that makes this work is Correia’s convincing portrayal of the Monster Hunters as real people with understandable motivations and emotions. We get why Owen turns out to be a great hunter, why Holly is fierce and fearless, even why Skippy considers Owen royalty, and so on. It’s a trick, and Correia has mastered it.
While loving care is lavished on the fight scenes, and they are great, it’s really in the visions and most especially just the ‘normal’ interactions of the characters that the story is made. The trick of ratcheting up each battle is largely achieved by ratcheting up the emotional stakes. It’s not just more stuff getting blowed up good, or even the ultimate ‘the fate of the Universe hangs in the balance’ battle, it’s the Hunters having believable emotional stakes in the outcome, especially in the survival of their comrades. The characters care about each other through all their flaws, and so we care about them and identify with them. I need to study more how he does this.
Finally, and I’ll need to think about how universally applicable this may or may not be, but Correia rarely lets a page go by without some sort of comedy. His dialogue is often pretty brilliant and very funny.
What I need to try to do:
- Never let an opportunity to make a character more sympathetic and human pass;
- Put them in situations that reveal their character without having to talk about it;
- Go easy on interpersonal interactions that don’t move the story forward at the same time;
- Write humorous dialogue where appropriate.
And blow stuff up good.
Interesting how tastes are different. It was the characters, particularly Owen, who made this unreadable to me. I didn’t find any of them at all likeable, but Owen was downright repellant.
Huh. MHI is not remotely my style or taste – I haven’t read any other books in the series – but given the absurd premises, I thought the characters were exactly what the story needed. Over the top. And I ended up caring what happened to them, which is the only way the hard suspension of disbelief required could work.
Am I likely to try to write any characters like Owen or Julie? Nope. I’d be thrilled with minor characters as interesting as Holly or Skippy.
You might have nailed why I never got far in the second book (audiobook, fwiw). “blistering action” did NOT alternate. It’s Just. Kept. On. There was no time left to breathe, so the (audio)book was very put-down-able. The first (audio) book was perhaps a bit slow after the initial rush, but there was time to breathe and it *built up* instead of *burning out* (maybe the second doesn’t burn out, but I am in NO hurry to pick it up again. I’ve been told things get more even in further books, but this one might too high a hump on the camel. (And I read Discworld from the start, despite warnings against. Only twice in that did I delay. One was the wretchedly interminable Small Gods (I think…) and the Very Last Book… which is probably a great book as any, but as long I don’t finish it, Pratchett is still just that tiny bit alive, see…
Hi, long-time lurker here.
MHI was fun for me, because I like the idea of monsters getting their comeuppance. I found Owen a bit OP, but it matched the gross horror of the antagonists.
I really, really hated Correia’s elves! Apparently they were in the story because his wife was reading a fantasy book one night, and threw it awayin digust, saying ‘Elves are just too perfect!’ – so he decided to make them the lowest of the low. Once I found that out, I could understand, if not forgive.
The unfortunate effect of making the elves trash and orcs refugees is all too familiar: dragging down the high, showing the low in a sympathetic light, leading to a moral universe that isn’t so much egalitarian as flat. It’s been done to death, mostly by denizens of Hellywood, leading to the drearification of stories. There is some good in this world, Mr Frodo, but you’d be hard pressed to find it in modern storytelling. Count me out.
I’ve even produced some shorts set in the same universe, trying to introduce some *real* elves, and the good folks on Minds.com seem to have appreciated them.
Larry Correia had a short story available free on his website one time – might still be there – about a teenage elf Princess who tries to join the Monster Hunters, and it was actually excellent. Both absolutely hilarious and surprisingly heartfelt in the sense that it took the goals and trials of its main character seriously. I recommend it.