So you've just finished your first novel that takes place in the fantastic world of Belbivdevoia, and it's a ripping yarn about a young man who finds out he's the Chosen One and is hunted by the Evil Forces of the dastardly villain Shaga'Cockdroop as he travels across the world with his sidekick and best friend, the unassuming Dingus McFatty, and a motley crew assembled by his protector, the great magus Porkins, including the lithe and mysterious elven archer Paulius Blarteveer, the gruff and stalwart dwarf warrior ButterFunk McChunk, and the valiant human hero (who is secretly a king) Areola Fellator. Awesome! Except this story had been written probably 1 million times already even before Tolkien made it popular and Terry Brooks ground it into the mud with his uncaring and uncreative heel.
The reason fantasy is often such a maligned genre, beyond what some authors like George R. R. Martin can produce, is that the bulk of it is the same rehashed pile of twice-pooped turds that we've all read and reread again. It's so bad that it's a cliche to point out the cliches now, but people keep doing it. Can anything stop the terrible no-brain trust over at Dragonlance from publishing the same 10 novels over and over again? Yes! You need to shake up convention! And with that in mind, here's how to fix the five most boring and unimaginative creatures that continue to appear in fantasy.
Evgeniya Litovchenko/iStock/Getty Images
How you know them: Chiefly thanks to Tolkien, you know elves as Nordic-looking white people who may as well be extras from a lazy '80s porno. They are tall and elegant and fairly girly at all times, they live in forests and are experts at everything, but they still aren't good enough to be the hero because they have pointy ears, which makes them both different and, obviously, inferior.
As seen in: The Lord of the Rings, Sword of Shannara, Warcraft, Forgotten Realms, Warhammer
Shake That Shit Up: You don't need to go full Discworld with elves to make them nearly unrecognizable. That's the problem with most authors who try to break the Tolkien mold: They go so far in the other direction that they're only recognizable as elves because the author tells you they're elves. If we generally know elves as a race of near albinos, you don't need to make them 2-foot-tall proto-scrotums like Dobby. Instead, I would venture that having an elvish farmer in the mix who has a drinking problem could really shake up any fantasy story.
Alexander Raths/iStock/Getty Images
"I spunked in you Lembas bread flour, ya bastards."
War has come to the people of Fartasia. It is a human war, because of course it is. The elves don't want to get involved, because of course they don't. But they will pompously send one guy, because they're pricks like that. Sure, we have whole armies and the world is in jeopardy and all life may end, but maybe this one fucking guy who doesn't even have armor can help you save the day. Or not, we don't give a fig.
So rather than Legolas, you get Bertrand, the only guy the stuck-up shit elves could be arsed to send on your mythical journey. Bertrand the turnip farmer, who wastes all his money on dwarfish whores and elvish wine because his wife left him for a noble archer 400 years ago and he's held a grudge this entire time.
Chicks dig archers. Especially chick archers.
Bertrand isn't particularly tall for an elf, and he has a gut because he really doesn't do much all day, and he can't commune with nature for shit, because why should he? That's what his tramp of an ex-wife used to do, so the squirrels and the bees can all go fuck themselves with a honeysuckle. Bertrand fights with a kitchen knife, because who has time to learn swordplay exactly? That's like a really impressive skill, and he's spent his life farming turnips, like his dad did. Who the hell do you think grows all the food for the elves anyway -- Galadriel? Bitch don't even touch turnips.
Much like there is diversity in the human world, so too should there be diversity in the world of elves. They can't all be gallant and multitalented experts in all things, that would be weird and creepy.
How You Know Them: Midget Scotsmen. Perhaps the first fan of TLC before it was even a network, Tolkien really loved the idea of tiny, hirsute fellows from Glasgow running around with axes and hammers and no women. Never a woman to be seen.
As Seen In: Same shit I just listed above.
Shake That Shit Up: Dwarfs are the dickhead uncles of high fantasy. They're crotchety and stubborn, apparently as a result of genetics and poor grooming habits, and habitually live in mountains like some kind of goat tribe. It's likely their short stature has made them surly.
Eric IsselÃ©e/iStock/Getty Images
And my ax!
Like any good fantasy race, the issue with dwarfs is that they barely reach one dimension. Could you really have an entire race of guys with dumb beards who live in a mountain and mine together? That's the ultimate gay friendship beyond anything lumberjacks could ever dream of. Are there short dwarfs? Like one dwarf the other dwarfs make fun of for being ridiculously small? What if there was a dwarf who grew a beard the way I grow a beard and it's all patchy and makes him look like a sexual predator?
Your dwarf, in your groundbreaking fantasy novel, should be the one with brittle bone disease. Or Proteus syndrome, so he has two huge legs and then a regular dwarf body, and the other dwarfs shun him because he suffers massive claustrophobia and was never at home in caves or mines. Instead he became a minstrel and sings more like Robin Thicke and less like a belching bear. He is clean shaven and his weapon of choice is neither an ax nor a hammer. He wields a whip. Sassy.