Have you ever killed a character? Why did you do it? What purpose did it serve in the story? Was it to help grow your main character? Was the main character the one who died? In my time telling stories, death has never been meaningless. I have never had my characters kill another character, outside of select short stories, and have it have no impact. Every death has had a deep effect on the characters who witness it. Even if it’s only in my head. For example, on a pitched battlefield, it’s hard to give every dying character a meaningful send-off, but in my mind, I know who that character was, I know their name, their lover’s name, their best friend’s name, and how each one of them is affected by it.
There are cliches you should avoid: rainfall at a funeral, this can be distracting to the reader if your story has never had rain affect the story in any way before; explosively meaningful deaths, in a speculative story, especially fantasy or sci-fi, sometimes, people just die; and meaningless death.
The Sky Weeps?
No matter how important your character is, they do not have a metaphysical connection to the weather patterns. Unless you have developed some kind of really cool weather-magic system that forms a bond between the sky and the wielder of the power, in which case disregard this section. For most of us, however, when we are writing a powerful funeral scene that defines the MC’s next arc, the sky should not bend to the whim of the story. If you’ve already set up this place, this region or planet, as a rain-heavy place, go for it, but sudden and violent rainstorms can garner an eye roll from the audience.
I’ll end each section with this: these are not hard and fast rules; they have not been written in the literary laws of the Medes and Persians.
Ned Stark or Tony Stark
In A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin, there is a heroic character called Ned Stark, who, I am told, was a fan favorite. Very much a man of honor, virtue, and nobility, when the time came, however, one plot thread led to another, and he found his neck on the butcher’s block. Some other authors might have had a last-minute hero jump from the crowd and prevent this in justice, but not Martin. The axe came down, and the head of Stark rolled. There was no great revolt in that moment; there was no huge battle and revolution in the name of the just man who was wrongly executed. There were, however, other major characters in attendance when he died, and his death did have a lasting impact on the story and those other characters, but it wasn’t explosive; it was smoldering.
Does Tony Stark need an introduction? I don’t think he does, but for some who may not know, he is the climactic hero of the Avenger’s Endgame movie. The character of Tony Stark, who many know as Iron Man, is one of redemption and heroic acts. The fellow had ten years of cinema and 7 (some might argue 8) movies of time to develop his massive impact. So when he stole the weapon of destiny from the villain Thanos and snapped his fingers, winning the day and sacrificing himself in the process. The explosion of worldwide story impact had been earned. Could you imagine if the first or second time we see Tony Stark on-screen, he beat a galactic-level threat with a snap of his fingers? Sure, it might mean something to long-time comic-book fans who understand what’s going on, but for the regular viewers, it would have been an explosion of meaning that would have ultimately been meaningless.
Sometimes people die, and this is the way of things. Not every hero gets to snap his fingers and resolve a decade-long plot thread, not every hero die on a tyrant’s chopping block. I think, while it is a bit crass, the Epic Rap Battles of History battle J. R. R. Tolkien vs George R. R. Martin does a fantastic job of giving a lot of literary advice if you can read, or listen, between the lines. Their battle mostly consists of disses and promotions, disses of their opponent’s writing philosophy/style and promotions of their own. Below, I have linked a clean version that should give you an idea of what I am talking about. The line “All your bad guys die and your good guys survive,” from the characterization of Martin in the video, is partly what inspired this article.
These are not hard and fast rules; they have not been written in the literary laws of the Medes and Persians.
They meant nothing?
While it is important to not overblow your character’s death, it is also important to not underplay it either. Sometimes this will come up in a hero vs villain story. The classic example of a dark lord vs a farm boy might play out something like this.
“You, at last, I’ve found you.” The young hero said as he stuck his sword’s razor-sharp tip under the monster’s chin.
“Who are you, child?” The villain asked uncaring.
“You killed my mother, you’ll die for what you did.”
“Oh, I’ve killed hundreds of mothers; you would have to be more specific, boy.”
In this exchange, we see that part of what has ruined the villain is their lack of empathy. This is juxtaposed against the hero’s memory. The hero has likely remembered every person they have had to kill to get here. If not, that could lead to some interesting dialogue between the hero and the villain. A great example of this is early on in the 3 Musketeers movie, where one of the titular musketeers, Aramis, after getting into a deadly fight with some of the cardinal’s men, prays over their bodies and closes their eyes out of respect. Death, especially for that character, never went without meaning.
These are not hard and fast rules; they have not been written in the literary laws of the Medes and Persians.
Now you!
What do you think? Have you ever written an impactful death scene? If so, tell me about it! I want to hear how you’ve tackled death. One of the next few posts here will be about what comes after. Do you have any rules you live by when discussing the afterlife? If you do, I’d love to hear about them!
