First written in 1953 by John Russell Fearn, A Thing of the Past: Herbert the Dinosaur, Book One dates from that magical time when an author could have his square-jawed hero casually rappel down into an ice cave where the center of the Earth should be, offhandedly retrieve a rime-encased egg* from a glacier, and bring it back home to hatch it. Which admittedly I could do now: but one of my beta readers would likely ask me, Did he have a permit for that? …No. No, I guess my own hypothetical hero would not.
There’s envy in my heart over Fearn’s freedom, is what I guess I’m saying. I’m not proud of it, but there is.
*Guess what kind of egg it is! Go ahead. Guess.
Moe, any beta reader who would ask a question like that, of you, will offer no useful feedback.
Drop them and block them.
It’s a legitimate question! It’s hard to write action-adventure set in the modern period that don’t at least take into account basic questions like, “Somebody just fired an automatic weapon inside city limits. Why are the cops not freaking out?” or “Who pay for all of this, anyway?” or even “Why does your Action Strike Team never fill out any paperwork?” I know this, because I have a 80% done* novel that had to lampshade all of that. 🙂
*The other 20% is the ending, and the blatant supernatural activities that should have been in there all along.
Not coincidentally, I think the superhero trope “Take the Fight outside Metropolis” is a real buzzkill to fantasy in general.
The newest installment of the ‘Shaft’ films addressed this very well, playing the generational incongruity for laughs.
On the other hand, Clive Cussler has raced antique automobiles down the streets of every major city in the world without seeing a stoplight let alone a cop. James Rollins and Steve Berry have obliterated 67% of the Unesco world heritage sites without a single peep from their characters bosses. And they sell lots of books.
It’s your sandbox. Don’t worry about what other people might think and just play. The stories will be better. Pulling punches is the best way to get yourself hurt. Did the Germans care what people thought when they bombed Pearl Harbor? (Germans? Forget it, he’s rolling) Where’s the spirit? Where’s the guts, huh? “Ooh, we’re afraid to read you Moe, we might get in trouble.” Well just kiss my ass from now on!
Well that escalated quickly.
Yeah, but it doesn’t mean you’re wrong, BD.
Write what you want to write, Moe. “To thine own self be true…” and so on..