My little rant about prophecy (see previous entry) has spurred further musings on the obligation of genres. Many fantasy world readers accept the presence of prophecy or predestination as part of the genre. I can’t objectively say that my acceptance of so many sci-fi books and TV shows where people teleport places when they could take a space shuttle is any more rational than my rejection of the convention of prophecy. Though there are physics-based theories as to how we might one day teleport, all of them involve using massive amounts of energy. Way more energy than just building and fueling a space craft. So if you believe the science, why would anyone have their characters “beam down to the surface?” Sometimes non-SF/F people watch my favorite TV shows with me and call out these sorts of unexplained things. But I accept this without batting an eye. Accepting certain genre tropes is the price of admission.
And yet I cannot accept prophecy. It irks me to no end. I think this may be reflective of my worldview as an existentialist. I believe we are all responsible for our decisions, the actions we take based on those decisions, and the consequences of those actions. I am REALLY BIG on free will. What can I say? I was raised by Republicans in America. This belief that we have control over our destiny is what keeps Americans so happy! There are many recent surveys documenting the growing lack of class mobility in the states, and yet I cling to this core belief. Perhaps I am irrational. But believing that “everything happens for a reason,” or that you were always going to become a Slumdog Millionaire, no matter what your personal choices, because “it is fated,” seems even more irrational. I don’t believe god has a plan. You need to make your own plan. It’s called taking responsibility for your life. Aka adulting. When people in books get to fall back on this guideline for how to save the world I start to feel that this book is not about someone I 
can relate to. I have never had a cheat sheet on life. Real life, in my experience, is about being given a thousand different conflicting guidelines on how to be successful and having to sort it out for yourself.
I like to watch characters in novels do the same thing. I like to watch them know nothing, but think they know something, try, fail, and realize they know nothing. Then the mastery begins. They must try and fail many times before they save the world (Edge of Tomorrow, anyone?). If we don’t see them try and fail, then their eventual success does not feel earned. If they and everyone else knows they are the Chosen One, then at some point their success feels too easy. The emotional investment of the audience comes from watching this struggle. This is true regardless of genre.
L.A. Kuemmel 