Writing Skin Color

Yup, this is about skin color character descriptions for fantasy stories.

 

I know this is a can of worms best left unopened, but originality and imagination should never hide behind a curtain of excuses. And, I like a good juicy worm in the morning with my coffee.   

 

 General appearance descriptions paint a picture for the reader, (eyes, hair, tall, short, etc.) but when a skin color is added to the description, the author better tip-toe through the tulips if they ain’t that color and don’t want to be accused of stereotyping.  

So, should fantasy authors write skin color descriptions for characters? If the character is a fantasy race; yes, a skin color description is absolutely appropriate. What about skin color descriptions for human characters or is it better for the reader to draw their own conclusions? Do readers even think about skin color when reading fantasy novels? Do any authors even consider how a character will be perceived based on skin color? Should fantasy authors only write within their own racial/ ethnic boundaries?   

Tough questions to answer, eh?

I personally believe skin color in fantasy/ fiction books should be included, so yes, I do write skin color descriptions and sometimes I don’t. It just depends on how I feel that day. Green hair – black skin – blue eyes, white hair – brown skin – red eyes, purple hair – dark skin – yellow eyes, are always a possibility in my world, but the character’s actions and how they speak is based on the plot, not their skin color.

Moving on.

Book Covers: How often do you see a person of color on the cover of a fantasy book? I looked and was surprised by what I found. The trend is changing.

 

I was always told to not judge a book by its cover. However, some authors spend a lot of time and money making sure their book cover attracts readers for specific readers who like specific books – Romance, Western, Cookbooks, etc. Some people care about the cover, some don’t. Some people won’t read a book because of the cover. I understand. It’s your money, your time, and your choice.

My book covers are exceptionally bland with a hint of absurdity and retro randomness.  

Final thoughts: The world is a colorful place and my goal, with every colorful word I write, is to coerce the reader’s imagination into believing they are a part of the world I created. If using skin color descriptions helps me to achieve that goal, then so be it. A FICTIONAL story is fictional. Enjoy the read. Be open minded. Take a break from reality. A four-foot tall, thirteen-year-old, dark-skinned girl, with green eyes, long, blue hair, carrying a battle axe, and wearing full plate armor is not that hard to imagine. Oh, she also likes eating grilled jelly fish and cheese sandwiches with hot peppers and sweet mustard. 

 

Appreciate the story as the author intended, and don’t worry, it’s not real – it’s fantasy!

 

This week be a Colorful, Energetic Bear or a Sloppy, Arrogant Weasel.

 

Spreading the Love to Poland, Italy, Finland, Greece, Sweden, Israel, India, Pakistan, Australia, and Canada.

 

-jk-

Mid-Winter Miracle - 9024 B.C.

 

Christmas Eve, 9024 B.C., before Christmas Eve was Christmas Eve.

Gurga was a ten-year-old boy, living in a cave with twenty-seven other relatives.

It was a bitterly cold night and near mid-dark when Gurga was roused from his slumber by an unusual sound. He arose and walked toward the cave entrance. He gazed out at the rocky landscape, covered in a thick layer of snow, wondering what the sound was that had woken him.

It had been a particularly difficult winter for the clan – there was barely enough food to feed a few, and definitely not twenty-seven. Much like any growing boy, Gurga was always hungry, but he was a kind boy and always shared some of his portions with Murga, his favorite elder.

Murga regularly told Gurga marvelous stories. He truly enjoyed them all, especially the one about when Murga was a young boy. Gurga didn’t entirely believe the story was true, but he liked it the best of all the stories Murga told.  

Gurga, shivering, as the winter wind swept over his bare feet, was thinking about Murga’s story. It was about a man, Slava Clusa, who traveled all over the world, riding on the back of a huge, red cave bear, and would secretly deliver meat and furs to every clan in need on the eve of mid-winter without ever being seen.

Murga, when he told the story, said that he had seen Slava Clusa once. Gurga always smiled, never letting-on that he doubted Murga.  

On that cold winter night, however, Gurga sincerely hoped the story was true, because it had been a difficult winter for the clan, and he knew some of the older clan members would not survive – including Murga.

Gurga, as he stood woeful and silent, he again heard the unusual sound that had awakened him.

Suddenly, from around the corner, a giant of a man mysteriously appeared, riding on the back of huge, red cave bear. He smiled and jumped down. Gurga’s eyes were wide and disbelieving.

The Dude is Real!

A massive swirl of snow sprang up when the man’s feet hit the ground. His cosmic, silver cloak glistened like the stars in the night sky. He quickly grabbed a large bundle of furs and an equally large leather sack attached to the harness on the bear’s back and set them both down next to Gurga. After, he raised his massive hand up to his face and put an index finger to his lips and winked. He leaped back onto the bear and then in one swift move, they dashed off as quickly as they had appeared.

After they were gone, Gurga, stood like a pine tree covered in snow, motionless. His eyes and mouth were wide open, but surprisingly, he felt warm and wasn’t shivering any more.

From behind him, Murga, whispered, “Slava Clusa has come.”

Gurga shook his head slightly and excitedly replied, “I saw him!”

“Indeed, you did,” answered Murga.

“I never believed you, but I do now! I’m sorry, I doubted you,” said Gurga turning and looking at Murga.

“No need to apologize. I tell all sorts of stories, and most of them, I just make up. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you the story about the wheel and maybe, microwave ovens.”

“Huh?” said Gurga scratching his head.

“Um, never mind, a, let’s go tell the clan of their good fortune,” suggested Murga.

“They’ll never believe us.”

“We’ll just say it was a mid-winter, MIRACLE!”

“What’s a miracle?” asked Gurga

“It’s similar to, shit happens.”

“Ah, I understand, now.”

 

Merry Christmas!

-jk-

There are those who have seen and believe, there are those who have not seen and believe, and then there are those who never believe even after it slaps them in the face. 

Faith brings hope for the world.