barlennan
is people.
- Joined
- Mar 7, 2013
- Messages
- 60
When designing a weapon, perhaps you should think not about what it is, but what effect it has on the characters and the reader: What is the emotional impact of the weapon? What does it symbolise for the wielder and for the victim?
In mainstream fiction, the gun represents many things, but it is more often the tool to compel or persuade than it is to kill - the "gun to the head" moment. It is also seen (rightly or wrongly) as a "clean" weapon, a quick death (think of all those old westerns, where a cowboy grabs his bloodless shirtfront and fades away in seconds). Wielding a gun does not brand you a hero nor a villain and shootings are unremarkable events in a lot of fiction.
Compare that to how IUDs and landmines have been portrayed in various media in the last ten years; they are fearful because the results are disfiguring as much as deadly. Wounded veterans that lose legs are more shocking than those with unseen bullet wounds. Booby traps are also seen (rightly) as cowardly and indiscriminate.
On the more technological end of things, nuclear weapons in themselves are little more than a great big bomb. Again, it is the indiscriminate nature, the powerlessness, the fallout and the agony of burning or dying of radiation sickness that everyone fears.
The most fearful SF movie death I can think of is poor old Poole in2001, floating off alone into the void of space: an instantaneous demise from dramatically powerful laser weapons seems humane by comparison. A truly heartless villain might solve the problem you represent simply by brushing you painfully aside, leaving you to die uncomfortably on your own time.
I'd be tempted to give the reader the horror of a death they can relate to: A fall, a bite, suffocation, immobility, a rash, a sickening headache, powerlessly watching yourself bleed. These are small things that need no fancy weapons, but will really manipulate the emotions and give your conflicts a sense of jeopardy.
In mainstream fiction, the gun represents many things, but it is more often the tool to compel or persuade than it is to kill - the "gun to the head" moment. It is also seen (rightly or wrongly) as a "clean" weapon, a quick death (think of all those old westerns, where a cowboy grabs his bloodless shirtfront and fades away in seconds). Wielding a gun does not brand you a hero nor a villain and shootings are unremarkable events in a lot of fiction.
Compare that to how IUDs and landmines have been portrayed in various media in the last ten years; they are fearful because the results are disfiguring as much as deadly. Wounded veterans that lose legs are more shocking than those with unseen bullet wounds. Booby traps are also seen (rightly) as cowardly and indiscriminate.
On the more technological end of things, nuclear weapons in themselves are little more than a great big bomb. Again, it is the indiscriminate nature, the powerlessness, the fallout and the agony of burning or dying of radiation sickness that everyone fears.
The most fearful SF movie death I can think of is poor old Poole in2001, floating off alone into the void of space: an instantaneous demise from dramatically powerful laser weapons seems humane by comparison. A truly heartless villain might solve the problem you represent simply by brushing you painfully aside, leaving you to die uncomfortably on your own time.
I'd be tempted to give the reader the horror of a death they can relate to: A fall, a bite, suffocation, immobility, a rash, a sickening headache, powerlessly watching yourself bleed. These are small things that need no fancy weapons, but will really manipulate the emotions and give your conflicts a sense of jeopardy.