C. Steven Manley's Blog, page 2

Star Wars and Deadlands and Wizards, oh my!

One of things about being a writer is that you also should read.

A lot. Like, really a lot.

I think the reason for this is that it keeps you head in the ‘wordspace’ and lets you see what the other guys are doing and how they’re doing it. Regardless, I thought I’d take this opportunity to post a few of the things I’ve read recently and a short review for each.

 

 I enjoyed this story. The premise was a good one, the action kept it moving, and the dialogue was easy to read. It was by no means the worst thing I’ve read from the Kindle Store.

That being said, I think the whole thing could’ve benefitted from another round of content editing. The protagonist seemed a little two dimensional and many of his actions and reactions seemed unrealistic. It was a fun read if you don’t pay too much attention to details but there were enough of those detail speed bumps that it negatively affected my experience. I’ll probably give another book in the series a try, but if the polish isn’t there I doubt I’d keep up with the whole thing.

 

This short but intense entry into the star wars canon is a welcome addition, I think. It takes the reader into the darker side of life in the New Republic and introduces them to a woman who lives as a spy and a mercenary. There is no mention of the force or of any of the standard things you might see in any star wars tale outside of the occasionally technology or racial reference. What you are left with is a gritty, action packed story with a dark but likable protagonist and supporting characters that balance her out nicely. The only reason I didn’t give it a full five stars is that I did see one particular plot twist coming, but that could just be me. Overall, a great, well told tale that does an admirable job of introducing Bazine Netal to the fans.

 

I’ve got a real love/hate thing going with this book. I love a lot of it; the setting is real and visceral, the writing is crisp and clear, the magic is raw, and the villains are really nasty. The problem I have with is that it seems like everybody is a villain. Look, I get the anti-hero concept and I like a setting where it all on the fringes of the everyday world, but there’s anti-hero and then there’s just selfish, unlikable prick who just so happens to do a good thing for his own reasons. For me, the protagonist of this book walked and- more often than not -crossed that line. I actually found myself hoping that he would end up dead at one point. I found this to be a very well written an constructed book with a protagonist that was in no way likable, in my opinion. I’m sure it’s got an audience and they will love it, but I’ll probably give book two a pass.

 

I’m a big fan of Jonathan Maberry’s work, lets get that out of the way up front. I’ve read everything (I think) that he’s written and enjoyed the vast majority of it. I am also a tabletop RPG gamer with 30+ years of dice slinging and world building under my belt. When I heard that Maberry was going to be writing in the setting popularized by the Deadlands role-playing game, it was pretty much a ‘shut up and take my money’ kind of scenario. I wasn’t disappointed. Maberry captured the flavor and feel of the Deadlands setting quite well and the story he wove was compelling and interesting. That being said, it had two major flaws that seemed to pull me away from the experience. The first is that I think the book was too long. The paperback weighs in at a hefty 476 pages. While some stories can fill that much paper without feeling drawn out, this wasn’t one of them for me. The second problem is that some of the characters, particularly the Sioux Scientist Looks Away, feel a bit too constructed and contrived; having too many convenient answers and problem solving experiences in their past. Overall, this is a fun read for Weird West fans if you don’t mind leaving most of your critical thinking at the door.

 

 Since I’m on my Jonathan Maberry Fanboy kick, I’ll wrap up with X-Files: Trust No One. While Maberry did not write this collection of short stories set in the popular 90’s TV universe, he did edit it and put it together. If you like the X-files then definitely check it out. There are some really, really fun stories in here that take Mulder and Scully into some weirder places than the show ever did, even giving us a glimpse into ADA Skinner’s experiences in Vietnam. The audio performances are over all good and it’s just a fun romp into a fictional world that I, for one, miss.

That’s all for now. I hope all my American friends had a good Thanksgiving holiday and all the rest of you are doing equally well. Until next time, keep reading and don’t let the jokers get you down.

 

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Blame this one on Chuck Wendig

 

I follow Chuck Wendig’s blog- Terribleminds.com -because its an awesome place for writers and really anybody that likes fiction. Occasionally he throws out writing challenges and ‘hey, post what you’re working on’ kinds of things. That’s what this is. So, here is the most recent chapter from Unveiled: Paragons Book Three:

Charlie Palmer Steak

Washington, D.C.

March 12

1:27 P.M.

Senator Phillip Braxton took the last bite of his Scottish Salmon and took a moment to enjoy the faint tang of citrus that accompanied the fish’s smooth texture. He closed his eyes, doing his best to enjoy every moment and flavor, but was interrupted by his lunch companion’s south Texas twang.

“Senator, due respect and all, but I can’t for the life of me figure why a man would come to one of the best steak houses in the country and order fish.”

Braxton let his eyes open slowly as he swallowed and regarded the man sitting across from him. Executive Special Agent Hiro Namura was a contrast in sound and appearance. His voice was deep, with an accent that would have been called cliche’ if it had showed up on television. It brought to mind barreled chested men from the era of John Wayne and James Arness, but physically the man was more Bruce Lee than Gary Cooper.

The Senator from Missouri flicked a glance down at the enormous, half eaten steak on Namura’s plate and then back to the operative from the Department of Genetic Research and Investigation. He could never decide if he liked the man or not, but he was useful more often than he wasn’t. Tolerating that irritating accent long enough to treat the man to a high profile lunch always kept him that way. “Hiro,” Braxton said, “I lunch here two or three times a week. I’ve had every steak on the menu and a few that weren’t. I like to stretch my palette when I can.”

Namura nodded. “Well, I reckon I understand that. You and your palette can keep on stretching, that just leaves more cow for me.”

They were seated at an isolated table in the restaurant’s Landscape Room- named for the large landscape painting that dominated the back wall – and Braxton looked past Namura at the painting and the dwindling number of fellow diners while the agent devoured his steak like he was afraid it was going to get up and run away. He smiled and nodded at a pair of fellow senators as they left the room and then looked back to Namura. The steak was nearly gone, but Braxton decided he was tired of waiting.

“So what did you have for me?” he asked.

Namura finished chewing, washed the bite down with a long pull of iced tea, and then said, “Sentry says they’re willing to give us a hand with the Wainwright problem, but they want something in return.”

“Such as?”

“Trent wants a sit down with Jordan Screed.”

Senator Braxton picked up his own glass of iced tea and sipped at it thoughtfully. He wished it was two or three fingers of Johnnie Walker, but pushed the notion aside. He never drank when he was working. After a moment he said, “You think they mean it or are they just playing us?”

Namura shrugged. “I think they’d help us find him but that would be it. I can’t see Trent or any of the rest of them being of a mind to put him down.”

“Is that your plan for Wainwright? To put him down?”

Namura shrugged. “He’s was a Marine. Scout Sniper. He’s got the right kind of resume for recruitment and Lord knows I’d love to have somebody with that kind of power on the payroll.”

“But?”

“But I read his jacket. He was an exceptional Marine. Wasn’t even old enough to drink legally when he put boot to sand in Operation Iraqi Freedom in ‘03. Did three tours over the next ten years. Thing is, he had some experiences during that last rotation that soured him on the whole ‘follow orders and don’t ask questions’ mind set. Reads to me like he developed some real trust issues with the command structure. Double that down with the note he left on the Jasper Island Sheriff’s body and I don’t think he’s going to be too receptive to job offers.”

Braxton nodded. He’d seen pictures of the note Namura was talking about. It was a simple page from a police officer’s notepad with three words scrawled on it; No More Secrets. Since then, Justin Wainwright had shown up on social media more than once fully manifesting his Seraphim abilities. It was all the DGRI could do to keep the story out of the mainstream and in the realm of urban legend. He had yet to show himself in a venue that couldn’t be contained by strolling onto the set of Good Morning America or the Today show- which would seem to be the most logical choice if he really wanted to reveal himself to the world -and Senator Braxton sometimes lost sleep trying to figure out why.

“You really need Sentry’s help bringing him in?” he asked Namura.

Namura’s expression soured. “Yeah, dammit to hell, I do. We’ve lost three drones trying to track the bastard and the one time we got close enough to engage with him, some rookie jumped the gun and fired on him before we could even open a dialog. He put a half a dozen professional ass-kickers in the hospital and then just flew away. He never stays in the air long enough to capture him on satellite and once he’s on the ground he disappears like the sniper he is. He’s smart, skilled, and we can’t touch or track him. I’m of a mind that Simms and Trent might change that.”

Braxton nodded as Namura voiced what he had been thinking. “There’s a lot of logistics to getting Screed into an interrogation room.”

Namura half smiled. “Yeah, there are. You actually thinking about letting that happen?”

“Maybe. I don’t want them in the Facility, if that’s what you mean. It would have to be off site from the prison. Wait; is it just Trent or do they want Simms in the room too?”

“She wasn’t mentioned, but they’re pretty much a matched set. I figure since Trent trusts us about as far as I can sling a Longhorn he wants her there for backup and a quick getaway if we decide to get tricky.”

“And who’s fault is that, Hiro? You’ve been gunning for him since day one.”

Namura dropped his fork onto the plate with a clatter. He fixed the Senator with a hard gaze and said, “That hombre is a straight up threat, Senator, whether he means to be or not. Jasper Island proved that, I just can’t see why no one else gets it.”

“Sentry stopped what was happening, and Trent wasn’t responsible, Carmine Screed was. I saw the photos, I know-”

“You weren’t there, Senator. You didn’t clean it up. You didn’t smell it or have to scrape it off your boots. You’re right in saying that Screed caused it, but he did it with just a tiny bit of Trent’s DNA. Just a few drops of half corrupted genetic material. Now, if we lost nearly two and half thousand citizens in a weekend from a small sample of Trent’s blood or whatever, what do you think will happen if he loses it and goes loco in the middle of a major population center? Forget Islamic extremists and home grown terrorists. Hell, forget China; the biggest threat to this nation’s well being is Israel Trent and he’s walking around just as free as you please.”

Braxton watched as the frustration slowly vented from the man’s face. They sat like that for a moment, studying one another, before he said, “You know as well as I do that Warburton is the reason he’s protected and, like it or not, he and Sentry have saved a lot of lives since he came on the scene.”

“And if he was any other kind of Paragon, I wouldn’t have the least bit of a problem leaving him alone to keep doing what he’s been doing- hell, I’d be trying to poach him from Sentry -but the fact is that he’s a Necrophage. He is the walking, talking patient zero of the God damned undead apocalypse and he’s not so much as tagged for tracking.”

Braxton nodded. “I’m not saying you don’t have a point. I’m just saying that he’s got a big shield against us so long as he stays with Sentry. Warburton’s word carries a lot of weight in this city, especially with those of us in the know about the Veil.”

“Since when does that have anything to do with national security?”

Braxton fought back the urge to roll his eyes. “Stop it, Hiro, we both know you’re not that naive. Money and influence are the lifeblood and the nervous system of this government and you damn well know it. Warburton has more than her fair share of both. She’s got skin in this game older than both of us and on both sides of the Veil to boot. If we decide to tangle with her, we’d better be ready to risk it all.”

“Then I guess we ain’t tangling with her. We just don’t have the guns for that fight.”

Braxton said nothing. He let his eyes meet Namura’s for moment before the hint of a smile touched the corner of his lips.

Namura saw it and said, “Or do we? You holding out on me, Senator?”

Braxton let the smile widen a bit. “Always.”

“Do tell.”

“I’ve got an asset in place with the Sentry group-”

“Wait,” Namura said, “you have an asset in place? Since when do sitting senators run undercover operations?”

“Since your boy Brindley outed every one of your moles within The Sentry Group trying to bring in Trent back when all this started. You think Sentry isn’t vetting and triple vetting anybody that comes through the door now? Besides, it’s hardly an ‘operation’. I just have a trusted ally who brings things to my attention if they seem important. One such thing crossed my desk this morning. I still have an expert looking it over, but I think it might be the gun we need.”

Namura took a moment and processed the information in silence. Braxton waited him out.

“All right,” Namura said, leaning forward, “let’s say you’ve got something. What’s the play?”

“First, I think we need to go back to Sentry with a counteroffer,” Braxton said and then laid out his plan.

By the time he was done, Agent Namura was grinning.

 

Intrigued? You can check out the first two books here:  Amazon

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Jessica Jones and The Superhero/Superhuman Dynamic

If you are the slightest bit interested in the entertainment behemoth that is Marvel Studios- and there aren’t many people who aren’t these days –then you know that the Netflix produced Jessica Jones dropped this past Friday and fulfilled the second installment of the grittier, more street level fare that Marvel and Netflix started with the Daredevil series a few months back.

I’m not going to wax on about Jessica Jones too much because I don’t think I need to. Watch it. Right now- go; It’s some of the best television I’ve seen in years. I think if you check with just about any of the big reviewers they will say it’s fantastic. It’s a gritty, neo-noir, Raymond Chandler-esque story that has just enough of the ‘super’ to make it Marvel. Even if The Avengers and Iron Man and the other big screen mask and muscles type things weren’t your cup of tea, this might very well be. And that distinction is what I want to write about.

I love the Super-genre. I’ve been a comic book guy since the days you could walk into any store and find a spinner rack feathered with the latest issues and pick up your favorite for no more than a quarter. I’ve spent my life reading Marvel and DC and Dark Horse and getting lost in the cape and cowl adventures of all the mystery men from Batman to Daredevil, Spider-man to Green Lantern, Hellboy to Spawn. I love them all. That being said and fanboy me being acknowledged, as a storyteller, I don’t like writing Superheroes, but rather Superhumans.

What’s the difference between the two?

I like to think of it as the “And Factor”.

When you talk about the powers, those unnatural abilities that set the main character of any superhero tale apart from the common man, they vary wildly.  Let’s take the most recognizable icon of the four-color superhero as an example: Superman. Superman is super-strong and indestructible and can fly and has incredibly heightened senses and heat vision and cold breath and super-speed and survives from the light of the sun and some things I’m probably forgetting.

Now let’s look at Netflix’s first Marvel franchise hero: Daredevil. Daredevil has incredibly heightened senses tied to the radar sense he developed when he lost his eyesight. That’s it. Sure, he’s a highly trained fighter and acrobat, but those are strictly from long hours of training and nothing unnatural.

See the difference? Superman has all the ‘Ands’. Each of those represents a tool he can use to overcome any obstacle that a storyteller might put in his way. Each of those is one more thing that separates him from the common man and, in my opinion, the ability of a reader to relate to Superman as a character.

Daredevil? Jessica Jones? Most of the characters on NBC’s Heroes? They don’t have any ‘Ands’. They have that one thing- that one power -that makes them cool and unique but also very relate-able to the average reader because that one thing doesn’t solve ALL the challenges they might face. They could very much be a normal person who still has to make rent and buy groceries, but has that one special thing they can do that helps with none of the banality of everyday existence. The more ‘Ands’ you tack on to a character the more they become a Superhero and less a Superhuman.

Any story in the Super-genre requires heart, humor, and spectacle. People generally want to feel for the characters, laugh with the characters, and see some kick ass action. That, though, is a sliding scale. The Avengers movies were big on spectacle- as any good four color style super-genre project should be -and had enough of the heart and humor factors to keep the audience engaged and caring about the characters’ fates.

Jessica Jones, on the other hand, is heavy on the heart and has less emphasis on the humor and spectacle. The action, while still Super-esque, is much more down to earth and doesn’t involve massive alien war-whales or a city rising into the sky as a mock meteor. On screen, I think these differences play equally well and really come down to the individual as to which you prefer.

As a writer, I think the Superhuman works far better for prose than the Superhero. I think the prose medium is better suited to stories that have more heart and humor than spectacle. The Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Suspense genres are replete with Superhuman protagonists (Johnny Smith, Harry Dresden, Odd Thomas, Buffy Summers, Anita Blake, Daniel Faust- take your pick. The lines between Urban Fantasy and Superhuman are thin- but that’s another post). The popularity of these characters and their respective genres stand as testament to the fact that the average reader prefers things more Superhuman than Superhero in their books. A Superhuman Thriller; if you will.

My point? Just this: just because a piece of entertainment has a Marvel or DC logo on it, don’t assume that it’s going to be a collage of scenes with well-muscled underwear models in leather outfits with capes and masks throwing around cars and propping up skyscrapers with their mind. It just might be a rude, hard drinking, hard loving, female private investigator  that fits the old Raymond Chandler definition of a hero:

“…down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. He is the hero; he is everything. He must be a complete man and a common man and yet an unusual man. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a man of honor—by instinct, by inevitability, without thought of it, and certainly without saying it. He must be the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world.

“He will take no man’s money dishonestly and no man’s insolence without a due and dispassionate revenge. He is a lonely man and his pride is that you will treat him as a proud man or be very sorry you ever saw him.

“The story is this man’s adventure in search of a hidden truth, and it would be no adventure if it did not happen to a man fit for adventure. If there were enough like him, the world would be a very safe place to live in, without becoming too dull to be worth living in.” – (The Simple Art of Murder; December 1944)

I love those words. The line that always got me, though, was “…yet an unusual man.” That’s very open to interpretation. While I realize that this wasn’t Chandler’s meaning, is there any reason ‘unusual’ couldn’t be extended to include telepathy or invulnerability or, in the case of Jessica Jones, Super-strength? Is there any reason these characters wouldn’t make for exciting and entertaining reading?

I don’t think so.

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And who the hell is this guy?

Hi.

My name is C. Steven Manley and I am a writer. The ‘C’ stands for Chuck- not Charles as so many people seem to assume –but Chuck. That’s what it says on my adjusted birth certificate.

“Adjusted?” you may ask. Yes; I was born in 1967 and given the name Charles Lester Rittenhouse III (yeah, it’s a mouthful, I know) and after a decade or so of life and more drama than I care to relate in this short introduction, I was told by my stepfather that I could change it to whatever I wanted so long as my last name was ‘Manley’. I figured since everyone called me ‘Chuck’ anyway, I would just change it to that legally. ‘Steven’ came from the fact that I was already writing at that tender age and had just read Salem’s Lot by Stephen King and was enamored of the man’s talent and skill. Sadly, my ten year old(ish) self’s attention to detail was such that I spelled mine with a V instead of Mr. King’s ‘ph’.

Why the back story? Well, dear reader, it’s like this; when I was growing up we called blogs ‘diaries’ or ‘journals’ depending on your gender and they weren’t for public consumption. They were the places we recorded our secrets and our private dreams. They were for the things that were too dark or too embarrassingly wonderful to share with the work-a-day ‘fit in or be judged’ world. So, when I decided to dip my toe into the world of indie publishing and my younger or more internet savvy friends started suggesting blogging as way to put myself out there for exposure and interaction, I sort of balked at the idea.

Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t that I wasn’t interested in having a forum for spouting opinions- hell, who doesn’t love that? –but it was just the idea that anything I might have to say being the slightest bit interesting to anyone- anyone at all -confounded me. I mean, there are roughly a gazillion blogs out there in the land of Internet-vania and I just couldn’t fathom being able to add anything to that. Then, I was shown some samples of less than engaging blogs and I figured I could do better than those. The worse that could happen is that no one would read what I could essentially use as a non-fiction outlet for myself and that’s okay because, hey, it’s not like anyone gets a chance to listen to me now.

So, again, why the backstory?

Because this is my introduction. This is me extending my hand and saying hello and offering to buy the first round.

I’m not entirely sure yet where this blogging thing is going to take me but I will say this up front: I’m not going to get into religion or politics. The reason is that these are the two topics that attract trolls, crazies, and crazy trolls the same way rotting meat attracts vultures. It’s not that I don’t have opinions and thoughts- I do -I’m just old and cynical enough to realize that they don’t matter and aren’t worth arguing about.

What I WILL do is talk about things that get my attention, things that I love (speculative fiction of all sorts, cooking, Roleplaying games, different art mediums, stuff like that) and occasionally share a story or two from my youth in a friendly, reminiscent sort of way that doesn’t smack of self-obsession. Oh, and fiction; I will share some of my short stories now and again.

Did I mention I’m a writer? Yeah, I thought I did.

So, nice to meet you, come on in, have a seat, and let’s see what kind of questions and revelations we can wring out of this old brain of mine. Who knows, it might even get interesting.

Oh, and you can call me ‘Chuck’.

 

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