i’ve started looking at weight and health the way i look at class and income and it really puts a lot of things into a new perspective.
let me explain: in america at least, the lower class have significantly worse health outcomes, even when accounting for other factors. just being poor is enough to make your overall health worse. we don’t know that being fat makes your health directly worse, like the data just isn’t there, but for a moment, pretend it does.
imagine going to the doctor with a health problem and the doctor looking at your chart and saying well, this problem will be less severe if you go up an income bracket. have you thought about becoming rich? it would really help. start by saving a little money every month.
ridiculous, right?? very few people successfully go from working class to rich, it just doesn’t happen on a large scale in society. maybe for a time you pick up some overtime hours, spend a little beyond your means, and appear rich. but eventually you burn out, your car needs to be repaired, and you return to being working class.
we do have this data: only some people can successfully lose large amounts of weight, and only a tiny fraction of people who lose that weight actually keep it off for more than a year. telling people to lose weight for their health is just absurd because they almost certainly can’t do it any more than they can double their income for their health.
and yet i see it everywhere. a little poster in my work breakroom tells me to improve my blood pressure by losing weight! a psa on the radio says you need to take care of your heart by losing weight! we can’t even conclusively prove that weight is the cause rather than just correlated with a lot of these problems but here it is offered anyway: have you tried being rich?
You hit the nail on the head. A lot of people tend to try and invalidate fatphobia as a form of oppression by saying its not an immutible quality like race or sexuality or gender. The old “you can lose weight, i can’t become white/straight/cis” argument.
That’s because fatphobia is a lot more like classism; i.e. it’s a form of bigotry that is only TECHNICALLY changeable. They’re both seen as a lot more changeable than they actually are, for all the reasons you’ve listed.
Using Archive of Our Own (AO3) as their primary source, researchers analyzed metadata from over 670,000 fanworks across 23 fandoms. They measured a story’s novelty by comparing its content against other stories in the same fandom and measured success primarily with a ratio of hits to kudos, then compared the two datasets. Researchers found that contrary to balance theory, the middle ground between familiar and novel does not guarantee success for fanfiction. Their research shows that stories that were more familiar tended to get more clicks, but it was stories with more novelty that had a higher hit to kudos ratio.
“Although high-novelty works tend to be read by fewer people, those who read are more likely to express their enjoyment.”
Deeply interesting tidbit from OTW signal today!
I’ll say I’ve seen the same dichotomy reflected in a smaller scale in my own work on the archive. The familiar or popular gets more hits, but unique and unusual works have a higher response from readers.
Something I’ve talked about before with friends but don’t think I’ve ever posted about here re: characters and writing is what I call the Velcro Theory of characterization. This works for solo projects, but I developed it specifically from a formative background of a lot of time doing forum RPs in my childhood and adolescence, and it’s served me fairly well.
Generally when making a character for roleplay, people don’t have a hard time with trying to make a character interesting or exciting. Every now and then you’ll run into an antisue- a character who has no interesting traits or refuses to give them up under any circumstances- but those tend to be created by people who have experienced or are afraid of harsh rejections or punishment and that’s its own problem.
By default, if you’re roleplaying, you care about your characters even just as a vessel for yourself and your own feelings. The most cliched, terrible ‘teleports behind you with a katana’ is embarrassing because it’s full of raw sincere emotion. I want to be powerful! I want to be important! These things come off jarring or frustrating because they are unsuccessful bids at delivering the payload of your feelings and character to other people.
So, assuming you already have a character that’s got a compelling core, (I can make another post about that if people are interested), how to avoid being that cool guy in the tavern corner that nobody talks to? This is where the velcro comes in.
some of the best writing advice I’ve ever received: always put the punch line at the end of the sentence.
it doesn’t have to be a “punch line” as in the end of a joke. It could be the part that punches you in the gut. The most exciting, juicy, shocking info goes at the end of the sentence. Two different examples that show the difference it makes:
doing it wrong:
She saw her brother’s dead body when she caught the smell of something rotting, thought it was coming from the fridge, and followed it into the kitchen.
doing it right:
Catching the smell of something rotten wafting from the kitchen—probably from the fridge, she thought—she followed the smell into the kitchen, and saw her brother’s dead body.
Periods are where you stop to process the sentence. Put the dead body at the start of the sentence and by the time you reach the end of the sentence, you’ve piled a whole kitchen and a weird fridge smell on top of it, and THEN you have to process the body, and it’s buried so much it barely has an impact. Put the dead body at the end, and it’s like an emotional exclamation point. Everything’s normal and then BAM, her brother’s dead.
This rule doesn’t just apply to sentences: structuring lists or paragraphs like this, by putting the important info at the end, increases their punch too. It’s why in tropes like Arson, Murder, and Jaywalking or Bread, Eggs, Milk, Squick, the odd item out comes at the end of the list.
Subverting this rule can also be used to manipulate reader’s emotional reactions or tell them how shocking they SHOULD find a piece of information in the context of a story. For example, a more conventional sentence that follows this rule:
She opened the pantry door, looking for a jar of grape jelly, but the view of the shelves was blocked by a ghost.
Oh! There’s a ghost! That’s shocking! Probably the character in our sentence doesn’t even care about the jelly anymore because the spirit of a dead person has suddenly appeared inside her pantry, and that’s obviously a much higher priority. But, subvert the rule:
She opened the pantry door, found a ghost blocking her view of the shelves, and couldn’t see past it to where the grape jelly was supposed to be.
Because the ghost is in the middle of the sentence, it’s presented like it’s a mere shelf-blocking pest, and thus less important than the REAL goal of this sentence: the grape jelly. The ghost is diminished, and now you get the impression that the character is probably not too surprised by ghosts in her pantry. Maybe it lives there. Maybe she sees a dozen ghosts a day. In any case, it’s not a big deal. Even though both sentences convey the exact same information, they set up the reader to regard the presence of ghosts very differently in this story.
