We had a talk last night about genres, and Oliver has this really cool theory about how you can guess a person’s favorite by certain facts about their life. It was hilarious and fun (and a topic for another post). Thinking I was slick, I asked him to tell me MY favorite genre.
“Adventure,” he says, without skipping a beat. “Because you’re not into taking risks.”
Grumpface. He’s totally right, of course, even though I really wanted to argue. I am notoriously risk averse. I’m kind of rigid, kind of a homebody, and a little bit of a butthead when it comes to breaking out of my comfort zone (and by a little bit, I mean a LOTTLE BIT). I’m not a huge fan of change and I have a pretty spectacular need for stability.
And he’s right about the genre, too. How can you NOT like adventure stories?
First, the genre isn’t just H. Rider Haggard stories. It’s the widest possible umbrella. It covers so many settings- space, the old West, vast dystopian junkyard cities, huge underground mazes lost to time, created worlds of magic and dirt and despair and excitement- it has EVERYTHING.
Let’s do a roll-call. Pirates. Ninjas. Robots. Space Geishas. Space Cowboys. Real Cowboys. Dirty Cops. Clean Cops. Time Cops. Spies. Double Agents. Triple Agents. Detectives. Boxers. Gun Molls. Fences. Thieves.
Told you. EVERYTHING GOOD.
There’s usually a little smushy-love side plot that doesn’t turn the whole thing into a feelings-fest, a perfect dose of passion or lust or even love, just enough to keep it interesting.
You’ll usually find some amazing supporting characters that you wish would come to your house for nachos and beer, some salty, crazy people doing things you could never make yourself do.
You’ll find heroes and heroines so cool as to be ice cold. Brrr.
For me, there’s nothing better. Am I right? Am I wrong? Tell me about it in the comments. Make your case.