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Anonymous asked:

Hi there. You’re an author I have come to admire greatly, particularly how you write relationships between characters. So I hope it’s not weird to ask this: do you think two characters who’ve had a somewhat problematic start for their relationship can overcome said problematics elements to have a proper, healthy relationship from a writing perspective?

theherocomplex answered:

Oh gosh, characters and how they connect with each other (or don’t) is such an important part of my writing, so that is such a wonderful thing to hear. Thank you so much! <3 

Also: thank you for a fantastic question! 

I apologize in advance; I feel like my answer is going to be so specialized as to be almost useless, but I think it’s important to ask yourself three questions whenever you look at a relationship with problematic elements. 

  • What are the problematic issues involved?
  • What is the relationship between the two characters? 
  • How does the story’s context/larger world influence how those issues are perceived?

Personally, I think there’s a line after which a relationship is not salvageable, no matter how much work the characters are willing to put into it. The damage, sometimes, is just too great. It’s the distinction between “problematic” and “abusive”, which is blurry at the best of times, because problematic can become abusive very easily when you’re writing, if you’re not paying attention – but that’s why it’s so important to identify the issues these characters have to deal with. The line may shift, but it’s always there. 

A common issue – if it isn’t the common denominator in most problematic issues – is a power imbalance. There are some that utterly prevent a healthy relationship from forming (master/slave dynamics, extreme age differences/underage, someone’s ability to consent being eroded or destroyed completely, one partner projecting racism/homophobia/sexism/etc onto the other), and I don’t think any amount of connecting the narrative dots will make it happen. The damage goes too deep, and even if the partner(s) causing the harm truly want to improve, they can’t do so while in a relationship with the person they abused. 

But for more subtle power imbalances – Fenris/mage Hawke comes to mind, because while a mage Hawke is part of an oppressed class, they’re still human, and have never been a slave – it’s possible for the partner with more privilege/power to recognize that they do, and to listen if/when their partner calls them out on their privileged behavior. 

It’s on the character with the privilege/power/social capital/whatever the contextual currency is to ensure their actions don’t erode their partner’s safety and agency – it’s a nuanced evolution we’re looking at, so mistakes will happen. Each character in the relationship has a responsibility to acknowledge where their behavior may be toxic, and to work to change that. But we can explore that growth in fiction, as rough as it may be, and show how each character is working to make their relationship as healthy and supportive as possible. 

I really enjoy watching characters – especially in romantic relationships – growing as they learn to be supportive, equal partners in their relationships, but there’s a lot of work to do so that readers will believe in the progress happening on the page. There are legitimate criticisms of Sarah J. Maas’ A Court of Thorns and Roses, but one thing she does excellently is the Feyre/Rhysand relationship. It’s a hot mess for the first book, with power imbalances and manipulations and dishonesty and even outright injury at one point – Rhys puts Feyre in an impossible position, which we (and Feyre) learn later was the only way to keep his people safe, and Feyre alive. Just knowing that Rhys had his reasons for acting the way he did, and treating Feyre that way, doesn’t magically make their relationship healthy; what makes it healthy is that Feyre is allowed to be angry with Rhys, to express that anger, to demand changes and honesty, and for Rhys to accept Feyre has every right to not forgive him. 

Feyre’s decision takes months; only comes after Rhys works to earn her trust and respect, and proves a) he only behaved the way he did because he had no other choice, and b) he will treat her as his equal in all things going forward. All of that happens long before they become romantic partners – the dots are connected over hundreds of pages, with every next step only taken when Feyre is ready. Her agency is paramount, and Rhys’ recognition of that is what makes their relationship work. 

(He does keep one piece of information from her, but given that said information would have pressured her into making a decision she wasn’t ready to make, and that he’s clear about why he kept it from her, I’m inclined to forgive him – as is Feyre.)

Every story will have a different set of demands that’ll need to be met before a problematic relationship evolves into a healthy one, and even then the work isn’t done. Each partner needs to be aware that it’s an ongoing process, and that participation can’t be expected or earned based on past behavior. Trust is built, love is made. Each takes action, and awareness, and compassion. 

nelsynoo

This is a really good answer! - and a really important conversation to be having.

I hope Bee won’t mind if I add my own two cents! I would never claim to have her skill with characterisation and relationships - but I’m a big fan of the Enemies to Lovers trope and I’ve seen it done both very well and very badly!

Bee says that it’s hard to determine that line between ‘problematic’ and ‘abusive’ sometimes - and I totally agree with this - but, for me, the thing that I look out for is fear

A character can feel angry with another, they can feel disappointed, or saddened, or frustrated or appalled - but as soon as they start to fear the other, that’s normally when I start to think “hmm, I don’t think this relationship is salvageable.”

Obviously I realise there is more nuance here - but that’s my quick and dirty rule for “am I comfortable with where this relationship is going?” 

Hope that helps!

aban-asaara

I agree, and it can be an insidious sort of fear, most often: if a character finds themselves adjusting their behavior to please the other or avoid upsetting them, consciously or not, then you most likely have an abusive relationship on your hands. Obviously I’m not talking about bettering themselves or creating a safe space for the other person – but if they’re effacing themselves, suppressing their own needs and feelings to preempt a negative reaction on the other’s part, acting a certain way based on what they think the other wants … then for me that’s not love, but abuse.

Other red flags to watch out for is if the character on the higher end of the power imbalance is undermining the other’s agency by infantilizing them, making decisions for them or withholding information (usually all “for their own good”). The character (and reader) may move past a one-off occurrence of these, but if it’s a pattern? That’s abuse.

I think for a problematic relationship to work, the characters need to be able to express what their boundaries are, and the other absolutely needs to respect them. That was one of the things I tried to keep in mind in my own Fenris/Hawke fic: Fenris needed to process his trauma, and Hawke her grief before they could commit to each other in a healthy romantic relationship, but in the meantime, both of them had ample space to voice their limits (as messy as it was sometimes) and to act with that information as they saw fit.

But some things are non-negotiable: no amount of love can overcome them, and I think as writers we have a responsibility to recognize that this is the case.

theherocomplex

Yes to all of this! @nelsynoo has a brilliant point in fear being the line between problematic and abusive – how someone be your partner, if you’re afraid of them? How can they treat you with compassion and support you when they’re using fear to control you? 

@aban-asaara‘s point about both partners being able to establish their boundaries, and needing to respect the other’s, is crucial – and it can’t happen if fear, and its symptoms, are the problematic elements (this goes for all relationships – romantic, platonic, familial, in both fiction and in real life). 

Thank you both! <3

writing and what not
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image

^ From a therapist-friend, in case any in-therapy-friends ever worry about this. 

prettysicksupply

[image description a facebook post with the name and user photo blued out.  The text reads, “PSA: Your therapist is probably not looking at the clock because they hate you but because they have a question in mind and need to know if there’s time to actually deal with it.”]

thebibliosphere

My therapist actually confirms with me that she just needs to check the time to make sure we have enough time to either keep talking about something or delve into something that was just brought up, so that I’m not left hanging at the end of sessions feeling unresolved or panicky. If she thinks there isn’t enough time, we will then either move on to something else that won’t need a full session, or spend time winding down from the session and getting back into a calmer mindset before the session ends.

Like the above post says, your therapist probably doesn’t hate you, and they’re not bored by you either. They’re processing info and are trying to do it under time constraints that can look like boredom, especially to your depression/anxiety which are actively working against you to make it feel like everything bad you believe is true and that getting help is futile. It’s not.

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