Does originality matter?

[Passwave]

Today I was thinking over a story I had an idea for for the last couple of weeks, and I'm just now realizing that the plot is very similar to Avatar. Some people go into a jungle for resources, encounter natives, one of the people befriends the natives and helps them fight back. Do I rethink it, or go ahead and not care that it has been done before?

[NikolaiI]

I would say go ahead with it. Originality matters a lot with the style and content, but plot lines are going to run similar, sometimes. Avatar itself was very much like Pochahantis, which a lot of people mentioned. If the characters, the dialogue, and the ideas and the writing-style and all of that are of a high quality, I would say you've succeeded, as long as the story-line doesn't resemble an exact copy.

[AuntShecky]

It's not the "what;" it's the "how."

[DATo]

Don't feel too bad. The plot of Avatar is VERY similar to Dances With Wolves, just like the plot of Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone is VERY similar to Ender's Game.


EDIT:
Write it anyway. To hell with them. Those who heist deserve to be heisteded in return.

[Pompey Bum]

Some people go into a jungle for resources, encounter natives, one of the people befriends the natives and helps them fight back.

Remind me never to see Avatar. Foxtrots with Wolves was bad enough.

But actually, Passwave, you may be in better shape than you think. A derivative plot will not win you many accolades in some circles, but it's often exactly the kind of thing that publishers like. A book is an investment, so many are going to prefer (or even insist on) backing a project with a formula that has already been shown to work. As long as you don't mind your writing being tagged as genre, then why not?

But if it really bothers you, you could always write a sequel, or prequel, or chronologically independent story based on the characters you are working on. Once that (presumably) is met with success, you can feed your hungry fan base the more "oft told tale." Good luck with the project in any case.

[Clopin]

You think I'm an ignorant savage? Well you've been so many places I guess it must be sooo
But still I can not seee
If the savage one is meee
How can there be so much that yooou doon't knooow

I say bin your entire story. Nobody needs to read yet another sanctimonious pile about how evil European/Human/Earthling capitalists want to drill for oil and rape babies all up in some beautiful tribal sanctuary of peace and love.

[Passwave]

Actually, Clopin, I was going to write the story to show off the creatures and animals I've imagined. The invading natives for resources plot was the only one I could think of that would give me an excuse to do that.

[SleepyWitch]

Don't worry about it too much. If you wanted to be 100% original, you wouldn't be able to write anything at all. Most themes have been done over and over again already. Shakespeare wasn't original, he recycled materials from the classics, mythology and his own contemporaries.

I'm writing a dystopian story right now and my husband says it's like Orwell and Phillip K. Dick, but it wasn't even inspired by them. I got the idea after reading an article that criticizes 50 Shades of Grey, saying that pornography is the end of the world.

[Iain Sparrow]

"There is nothing new under the sun"... which I believe is a biblical phrase.
And since the Bible itself plagiarizes material from earlier cultures, you can rest assured that we have been recycling stories for thousands of years.

[Passwave]

This is as far as I got before I lost interest/hit writers block.
Into the Jungle
Day 1
Today as I was walking home a man on the street stopped me. This is Valiant City and that does happen from time to time but it’s usually for them to sell you something. What he said caught me off guard.
“Do you want a job?” he said. He was a short man dressed in brown with glasses and close cropped hair.
Having been recently fired from my last job, I said “sure.”
“Do you like to travel?”
“I used to enjoy visiting my grandparents in Opal.”
“Do you like animals?”
“I used to have a goldfish named Sparky.”
“Can you draw?”
“I doodle.”
“Close enough. Follow me.” The man grabbed my arm and dragged me through the crowded streets.
Soon we came to a huge building that used to be the Sun Knights barracks and housing before Queen Ink disbanded them a few hundred years ago. The man took me through the building, and up a stair well. “Watch your step he said.” As we went up.
After a few flights I saw a red stain on the stairs. I was very careful. At the top of the stair well was a room with four men in it not counting me and my escort.
“About time.” Said a tall man with a long white beard. He was wearing a dress and tapping his foot impatiently. He shoved a brown sack at me. “You’ll need this.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
The man that brought me here sighed. “I’m sending a small team to the Rozia Jungle to do research. I’m William Williamson and I’ll be handling all the finances and what not while you’re away. This is Roger Krank and he will be your translator and cultural advisor while you’re staying with a native tribe. This is Edward Vants. He is for your protection. And –“
“I’m Justin Vital. I’m the geologist, geographer, cartographer, and arcanist.” The tall man said interrupting Willy.
“Arcanist? So you can do magic?” I asked.
The man in the dress laughed. “No. He just studies magic theory.”
“Yes. Right.” Said Willy. “You, are our biologist.”
“What?”
He sighed. “Just record the animals you find. Everything you need is in that bag.”
“Where the rest of you grabbed off the street?” I asked.
“No.” Said Justin. “We were trained. Our real biologist was late and tripped and bashed his head on the stairs while running up them.”
I turned to Willy. “So, was I just the first person you found?”
“No. I just stopped being picky by the time I got to you. Everyone ready? Good. Charles, do it.”
“Finally.” The bearded man snapped his fingers and a hole opened up in the wall. I was positive we were at least five stories up, but through that hole was trees and bushes all at ground level. The other people in my group started going through the portal. Before I went through I looked back at Willy and said “Can I call you Willy?”
He gave me the meanest look I’ve ever seen. I’m calling him Willy.
Once through the portal, we walked through the jungle for about ten minutes before coming onto a village. On the way there I chatted with the group’s strong man. “Your name is Ed Vants? Like ‘advance’?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Yeah. My dad was a general with a sense of humor.” He shook his head. “Terrible combination. I didn’t get your name.”
“Oh. I’m Mandolin Averick.”
“M. Averick? You’re a maverick?”
“Yeah. My father also had a sense of humor.”
Soon we were at the village. It’s filled with brown naked people. I might like it here. We met up with the head of the village and Krank talked to him for us. When they were done, we were each escorted to our own little hut at the edge of the village. Once in my hut I took a look in my bag. In there was one notebook with a pen attached by string, a candle, a change of clothes more suitable for the jungle, and some other supplies.
Krank said our first expedition into the jungle will be in a few days, so I have a little time to get used this place.
As I’m writing now in this little journal, small gray flies are buzzing around me. They have fuzzy little bodies and long thin noses. A little annoying but kind of cute. I’m sure they’re harmless. I’m calling them “Buzz Flies.” I’m trying to sketch one, but my drawing looks nothing like the real thing.
Oh well.
Day 2
**** the Chikwis.
**** this jungle.
**** Willy.
And **** the ****ing buzz flies.
Day 3
I feel like I should explain yesterday’s entry. First of all the people of this village are called the Chikwis, and none of them speak Common. They have this weird click-clacking language and I can’t understand anything they say.
This jungle is just so hot and mugged. I’m always sweating. I woke up today and yesterday just completely drenched for no reason.
Now Willy. Just **** that guy on principle. I’m pretty sure he needs it.
And the buzz flies. When Rolland and all the other monster hunters set on their quest to rid the world of vampires, they missed these little gray bastards. They jam those long needle like noses into you and suck your blood. It’s awful! They can even pierce through clothes! And the worst part about the buzz flies? I seem to be the only person they mess with no matter how many times I swat at them. They leave all these naked brown people alone. It’s not fair…
Anyway, the Chikwis are throwing some kind of party tomorrow night, and then we’re going out for the first expedition the day after.
I was talking to Roger (our translator) earlier today and asked him how long we’ll be here. He said “Until we are done with the job.”
“How long will that take?”
“Until we’re done.”
“How will we know when we’re done?”
“When they come get us.”
Great. So I’m stuck here forever. Just great.
Day 5
Wow. Last night was amazing. After the sun set, everyone gathered around this pile of logs and sticks. I little bald old man shuffled up to the pile and touched the end of his knobby staff to it. The pile erupted in flames and everyone cheered.
Drums started playing boom, boom, boom. Men and women came out dancing around the fire wearing nothing but leaves and feathers. I don’t know how, but those feathers were more revealing than them walking around naked. Then suddenly all the dancers crouched down and everything got silent as this beautiful woman came into to the fire light. The drums picked up a soft steady beat: pat pat patpat. Pat pat patpat. Then she started singing.
Oh her voice was amazing. I was entranced. My heart stopped, breathing slowed, I just couldn’t take my eyes off her. She wasn’t singing in her native tongue, or and language for that matter. She was using her voice as an instrument, every note perfect. We locked eyes, and I swear her eyes twinkled when she saw me. When her song finished, everyone cheered and started dancing, the drums picking up their original beat.
I was dancing from woman to woman and then suddenly I was twirling around with the singer. “My name is Mandolin. What’s yours?” I asked. She said something in Chikwinese that I couldn’t pronounce let alone spell or understand. But her voice was amazing.
“May I call you melody?” I asked.
She smiled a smile that melted my heart and spun away.
After the dancing they passed around a clear drink. It was very sweet and tasted fruity. After the drink, the next thing I remember is waking up in a bush naked holding Melody with Ed poking me in my side with his boot grinning. “Get up. It’s almost time to go.”
So, I’m scribbling this down before we head out. They say we’ll be out into the jungle for about three days. It will be me, Roger, Ed, Justin, and two natives that would be our guides. I just saw Melody and she smiled at me.
I love that smile.
Day 8
“Don’t touch that. It will kill you.” That’s’ the phrase I learned how to speak in Chikwinese. That’s just about the only thing Chu and Bol (our guides) would say. Every plant, bug, and rock we passed, they would point it out and say “Don’t touch that. It will kill you.” And they were right about the rock.
On our second day out we saw a large grey stone that came half way up my shin. Chu click-clacked “Don’t touch that. It will kill you.” And kept walking. Me and Ed stood standing at the rock. “I think he’s messing with us.” I said.
“Yeah.” Said Ed. “You should poke it.”
“What? No! You poke it.”
“Fine.” Ed drew his sword and rapped it against the rock making a dull, echoing, hollow sound. After a second holes popped out all over the rock and huge black ants the size of my thumb will drill like mandibles swarmed over and around the rock. Me and Ed jumped and ran to catch up with the others.
After a minute of walking Ed nudged me and said. “Averick?”
“Yeah, Ed?”
“Those ants were stoned.”
I rolled my eyes when he said that, but that was the funniest thing I’ve heard since we got to this forsaken jungle.
All I really saw was bugs. No real animals. Just big bugs, small bugs, bugs with wings, bugs with huge pincers, flies, ants, spiders, just bug after bug after bug. I’m not going to waste my limited drawing skill on a bunch of creepy crawlies.
It’ll be a while before we make another expedition. In the meantime, I’m going to try to spend time with Melody.