Dragon Porn

I'm addicted

Hello. My name is Madalyn Baldanzi.  This is my Substack, and I’m addicted to dragon porn.

I’ve been a comedy screenwriter for nine years. I’m not very successful, but have been juuuuust successful enough to justify not giving up. I can only sustain it because my husband supports me.

In the past year, I’ve pivoted to writing fantasy novels. I like fantasy novels, and I don’t particularly want to move to LA with a toddler.

And I’m addicted to dragon porn, and it’s really fucking me up when it comes to writing.

“You’re a writer, blah blah blah, um, what was that about dragon porn?” I hear you asking. “Really nice drawings of dragons? Like food porn? Or actual porn where dragons have sex with each other? Wait, you don’t mean porn where humans have sex with dragons, do you?”

Ugh, no! Although, I guess if in this magical world the dragons could consent, I’m cool with that? But the dragon porn I’m talking about is The Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros and its sequel, Iron Flame, and what I’m hoping will be sixty more books in this best-selling series. A twenty-year old daughter of a general goes to a magic war college to learn how to ride a dragon, and guess what? There’s a super hot guy there! And another super hot guy! And magic school shenanigans!

It’s not original- the prose is cliched and the premise is precisely Hunger Games Harry Potter Dragons. Hell, the main character’s name is Violet Sorrengail, which is syllabically indistinguishable from Katniss Everdeen. Even the author is a cliche- she’s mormon! What up Twilight!? And yet, even though I’m embarrassed to admit it, I can’t stop reading these books. Or thinking about them. Or recommending them to everyone I know (you should read them so we can talk about them).

Do I love them because they basically turn into a porno halfway through? Sure, of course. I mean, that’s part of it.

But they’re un-put-down-able because Rebecca Yarros knows how to entertain. Something big happens in every chapter, and there’s a lot of chapters. There’s a discovery, and a decision is made. The stakes are constantly life or death. The main character wants something so bad (other than getting ravaged by Xaden, I swear. And yeah, one of the love interest’s names is Xaden, and it’s not supposed to be funny).

The worst thing about this addictive quality of the books, is it makes me feel incredibly discouraged about my own writing. But why? It should encourage me! Her idea is not that original.

In comedy, half the battle is surprise. So there’s a lot of pressure to do something new and original. But that’s not the currency of a fantasy book. When I’m reading, I want to spend a long time with a character I like, watching her do difficult things. I know this. I’d read different versions of Harry Potter for the rest of my life.

I’m figuring out what my second book is about now, and I have a simple idea. It involves a magic school. But I can’t let go of the feeling that this idea is not enough. Not original enough. Not complex enough. I have no idea how to let this go. Or if I even should! Is it something broken in me, where I overcomplicate things so that I fail? Or a non-useful habit from nine years of comedy? Or am I correct? Should stories be more complicated? I’m working on figuring it out.

That’s what I’ll write about here. The books I’m reading (sadly, Iron Flame will be over soon), what I’m writing, and their relationship to each other. What it’s like to write prose when you’ve been training for years to write jokes for the screen. What makes stories good, no matter what medium you’re making them in.

Well, I better get back to work on novel number two. I’m thinking a magical unicorn MFA program. She’s an orphan poet who never wants anything for herself, until she sees a beautiful novelist standing in front of the sparkliest unicorn she’s ever seen…