Prepare Your Canons Carefully, Authors!
What The Heck Is Canon, & Why Is It So Important?
Please note I’m not talking about cannons (see the 2 Ns in the middle?), which is an oblong oversized gun thingy used to fire cannonballs, most commonly remembered as what pirates and merchant ships lobbed at each other in various movie scenes of ship-to-ship battles on the high seas. I’m talking canon. (1 N in the middle.) The original definition referred to rules and regulations developed by a church’s governing members (usually the Catholic Church), but since this is a blog about writing, obviously I don’t mean that definition.
Instead, I’m talking about the definition of “canon” as it applies to authors and their writings: the body of information outlining, delineating, or otherwise codifying how a particular fictional universe/world and its various systems work, as expressed in a consistent manner throughout each story set in that fictional world/universe.
I had to bold-text the important bit there, because it’s an unfortunate fact that a number of authors violate their own canon. For many of us—and yes, I’ve discovered I have occasionally done this, too—it’s usually a minor infraction, the sort due to simple derpage over a small point. For some, however, it instead emerges as a huge violation of established, story-pivotal facts.
Why Should Authors Care About Canon?
Because your readers will. Allow me to introduce you to two terms which will explain why canon is so important to establish, remember, and adhere to in fiction writing:
Audience-Friendly
Suspension of Disbelief
Audience Friendly is how much your audience (aka your readers) will remain friendly to whatever you are telling them; once you take them past a certain point, however, they stop being willing to accept whatever you’re writing.
Suspension of Disbelief is what allows them to do this…up to a certain point. If you’re writing about green-skinned people when we know there are no such things in the real world, then your audience has to suspend their disbelief in leafy-hued humans in order to continue reading. If you make it a good, engaging story…your readers will be willing to suspend that disbelief. If it’s a boring, absurd, or terrible story, you’ll stretch that suspension toward the snapping point.
When that happens, your audience will no longer be friendly toward what you write.
How does this all work?
Let’s take a handful of scenarios to explain how these three things work together, Canon, Audience Friendly, & Suspension of Disbelief:
1. You’re writing a contemporary romance. (Just pretend you are, even if you aren’t.) It’s about a gentleman barista who meets and falls in love with a high-powered executive lady over the lattés he prepares for her.
Canon in this instance is really easy to maintain, because a contemporary romance’s setting is more or less the real world. It uses the same laws of physics, the same everyday terminology, and is in general a location and situation familiar to a lot of people. If not personally as either a barista coffee-maker or a company executive, then at least through observation of others being those things and working those jobs.
It is very, very easy for people to Suspend their Disbelief over a story like this, because there’s virtually nothing out of the ordinary that needs the reader to be willing to believe. High-powered execs tend to love fancy coffees made by baristas, and it’s quite possible a spark of attraction might bloom over a properly prepared brew.
Audience Friendly comes into play, however, if you have coffeehouse-savy readers who are going to spot every single mistake you make regarding coffee based terminology. So, you’ll want to brush up on your coffeology and label that wonkapercolator contraption correctly…or your audience won’t be so friendly by the time they’re done reading about it.
2. You’re writing a Cinderella story. (Even if you aren’t, again just roll with it.) We all know the storyline: impoverished young lady is denied her big chance by her cruel stepfamily at going to the grand ball to catch the prince’s eye, but her fairy godmother gives her that chance, along with a spiffy ballgown and ride, all of which will disappear at midnight if she doesn’t hotfoot it out of there in time.
Canon in this instance is still somewhat easy to maintain, because most English-speaking readers are familiar with the storyline. Authors can deviate from it a little (such as swapping the gender roles, setting it in a modern era instead of a medieval or regency one, so on and so forth), but it still follows the same general format. However, because you’ll want to make your version of Cinderella—or Cinderfella or whatever—different from all the others, you’ll need to establish and maintain your differences in a consistent manner.
Let’s say you’ve set the story in 800s France, around the time of Charlemagne. Your Audience will remain Friendly because the story trope is familiar to your audiences, and a much-loved one. Suspension of Disbelief will be relatively easy here, too, because it’s still set in a familiar Earth-type setting. You will, however, want to research the clothing worn, the kinds of transportation available—they did not have carriages like the ones we normally associate with Cinderella, for example, but they did have wagons and so forth—and other such details to give the story a realistic feel for its setting.
But let’s say you’ve decided to go out on a limb and set it in an interstellar planet-hopping kingdom of some far-flung future universe. Audience Friendly isn’t going to be as much of a problem in this scenario, because having established that it’s set in the twenty-eigth century, you can come up with all sorts of weird technology to explain interstellar travel from planet to planet, so on and so forth.
3. So, Cinderella has to get from planet Zarkon to the prince’s homeworld of planet Denebulax, and her fairy godmother is actually a spaceship with Artificial Intelligence and some sort of clothing-manufacturing equipment on board.
If you’re still sticking with the Cinderella story trope, your Audience will continue to be Friendly toward it, however weird things may deviate from the original pre-twentieth century versions of the storyline. That is, so long as they receive the love-story they’re expecting to read, they’ll remain friendly toward your writing.
Suspension of Disbelief starts to come into play once you take it out of the familiar universe/world of Earth As We Know And/Or Knew It. Your readers have to suspend any disbelief they may have in life on other worlds, the ability to travel in a quick, safe, and timely manner between star systems, starships with Artifical Intelligence & fantastic tailoring sensibilities, so on and so forth.
People who already love science fiction (or fantasy) are usually already willing to suspend their disbelief, and are thus willing to be audience friendly toward these types of stories. People who love romance are willing to cut you some slack if you deliver a good romance, and so they’re also willing to suspend disbelief and be a friendly audience. Those who love both will love you if you write a good story.
…The moment you forget that Cinderella hails from the planet Zarkon, however, your readers are going to want to smack you over the head with your own book when they read how she’s suddenly from the planet Nerknon in Chapters 7 onward instead. That’s a violation of canon. If, however, you have a typo saying she’s from the planet Zakon instead of Zarkon, that’s just a typo, and a competent editor will catch that sort of thing…and beat you over your head with your manuscript for it.
4. Gibbula of Tersinchor is on a quest to fribbulang the Darsing Chalix, and needs the help of the dashing perogastator, Melulick the Magnificent and the zilgergeist raygun loaded with a thousand different plings!
Reader: “…bwuh?”
Writer: “It’s a high concept story! You’ll love it!”
Nope. You have completely lost your audience. Too much bizarre terminology, too few reader-friendly concepts. You’ve completely snapped the bungee cords on their ability to suspend disbelief, and have rendered your readers audience confused instead of audience friendly. With a story like this, rather than being easy in making up stuff, it will be extremely difficult to maintain canon, because there are no common references in your terminology.
If a pling is supposed to be some type of ammunition, you’ll need to keep track of a thousand different kinds of it, or at least the several dozen used in the story, and you’ll need to make sure your zilgergeist raygun fires each pling in a manner consistent with every other pling type it fires. And that’s just the one example in a story undoubtedly set with a hundred such things.
You can still write this weird story…but expect to include a huge glossary of terms, or your readers will be zilgergeisting their own various plings at your dunkerhelmet out of sheer frustration.
5. In your 6 book fantasy action series, you established in books 1, 2, and 3 that your hero can transmute common wheat straw into gold, and only wheat straw. This is how he makes his money as he travels around from continent to continent on the fantasy world of Tarman…and when he’s in the eastern kingdoms in book 4 where they grow only rice grains, he rapidly runs out of wheat stalks to make his money. But then in book 5, he’s suddenly able to transmute regular grass stalks into gold, too, and is thus able to survive. …Wait, bwuh?
In this example, there is no explanation of how your hero, Rumpy, is able to suddenly do something he could not do before. But even if you explain it in a very good way, you’re still asking your readers to suspend their disbelief in your previously established facts—aka, wheat stalks only + spinning wheel = gold—so that they can continue on with the story.
The explanation has to be really good to get over the fact you just violated your own canon. “The Fairy Council has said we need to diversify and look at new biogold resource materials. We want you to experiment with sedge and other wild/margin grasses not found on farmable croplands, Rumpy, *sparklywandswish*, so we’re now letting you transmute grass into gold, too!”
And if you don’t explain it in a believable way? Boom! You’ve just fired a cannon shot at your readers’ heads, instead of a canon shot.
So How Do I Maintain Canon Consistently?
Take notes. Lots of them. Do your research on things like 800s Carolingian era clothing, food, vehicles, technology, et cetera, and write down what you uncovered, plus where you found it.
If you’re making up stuff about the planets Zarkon and Denebulax, write that all down in a seperate .doc file or on paper so you’ll be able to find and reread it quickly whenever needed, and reference it. Repeatedly. If your hero can spin wheat straw into gold, does that include the stalks of the closely related cousin-grain spelt, or just common wheat?
It may seem tedious and redundant, but I have seen canon mistakes in stories that were only 2,000 words long. Single-shot stories, only 2,000 words in length, and they still had mistakes in them. You’d think that an author would be able to keep track of details in such a short tale, but mistakes still happen.
A Note On Canon vs. Continuity
Continuity does overlap with canon, and vice versa. However, continuity tends to focus more on the fiddly details of things like, “Okay, on this page in this scene, he’s wearing blue jeans and a black shirt…but two pages later, still the same scene with no mention of a change of clothes, he’s now wearing black jeans and a black shirt.” That’s a continuity error. A canon error would be more like the straw = gold thing.
Continuity & canon error: The heroine recognizes the prince at the ball because supposedly only the prince is allowed to wear a gold sash over his clothes…and the ambassador from the next kingdom over is described as wearing a gold sash as well. Maybe it was meant to be gold belt instead of a baldric sash in the author’s mind, but it didn’t get described right on the page, leading to the error.
This gold sash vs. gold sash moment is also a good example of a minor error which doesn’t impact the story all that much…but which some readers will still pick up on and snort over, which is where you start clashing against Suspension of Disbelief and Audience Friendly-ness.
Anything that makes your readers snort and roll their eyes, that’s a point where you’re starting to lose your readership’s interest. That’s why you need to care about these things.
At least, if you love what you do, and you want others to love your stories, too…