Barry Lyga's Blog: The BLog, page 26

Free Writing Tips for November!

Hey, writer-type folks!

It’s almost November, which means NaNoWriMo is nearly upon us. Even if you don’t participate in the annual word-fest, the odds are you’re still writing that month anyway.

So why not up your game with some help from a pro?

My pal Robin Brande is offering free daily writing tips during the month of November, along with a special feature on the Top Ten Mistakes Writers Make.

Did I mention it’s free? Yeah, I did, but I’m mentioning it again. Go sign up for the Writers’ Circle!

eRead Local: Support Bookstores!

Everyone wants to keep their local bookstore around, but I get it — the lure of ebooks is so powerful.

Fortunately, the folks at Kobo have worked out a way where you can have it both ways — the convenience of digital and the support of local!

It’s called eRead Local, and basically it makes it easy for you to buy ebooks…through your local bookstore. Everyone wins!

When you sign up, you get five bucks towards your first e-purchase (enough to buy, say, some of these…), and your local bookstore gets five bucks, too. The bookstore also gets a chance to win prizes, like free Kobo eReaders and an in-store event featuring a bestselling author.

Check out www.kobo.com/ereadlocal for full details.

WiRL: “Nancy Drew’s Bra and Panties”

Episode 36: The One about Pop Culture

Barry goes to Comic Con; Morgan does not. What happens when your personal nostalgia becomes mega-big business? Bringing babies to comic book conventions. A discussion of the awe-inspiring opening scene of season two of The Leftovers. Badass cavewomen. Barry’s billion-dollar idea.

The First Democratic Presidential Debate

I resisted the urge to live-tweet last night’s debate because I actually wanted to listen and pay attention, not miss something because I was busy impressing myself with an ephemeral bit of snark that I had to condense into 140 characters.

Here are some random thoughts. No thesis, no through line — just some random reflections on last night:

It was nauseating the way CNN promoted and framed the debate as some sort of bloodsport. I was pleased to see that everyone on stage generally comported themselves with dignity and refused to attack each other, unlike a certain other party I could mention.

CNN’s Anderson Cooper made a big deal at the beginning of the program about the joint venture with Facebook: “Thousands of people stepped inside to record their questions for the candidates on video. Millions more have weighed in on Facebook.” Thousands and millions, and CNN used, what, three questions from Facebook? Wow.

Interesting that Bernie Sanders didn’t actually introduce himself during the introductions — the other four did, even Hillary. I can see his staffers now: Everyone knows who you are, Bernie — just go for the jugular right away. Everyone knows who Hillary Clinton is, too, but she managed to find ten seconds to give us a frame for who she is.  Bernie’s gambit was interesting, but a tiny bit off-putting to me.

James Webb had a pretty terrible night. There is a school of thought that says, “When in the hole, attack the debate itself,” (see Al Gore sighing in George W. Bush’s ear, circa 2000) but Webb came across as petulant, not defiant. Which is weird, given his background and life experiences. He had one of the best, saddest lines of the night, though: “Bernie, I don’t think the revolution’s going to come.” It’s just true, man, and therein lies the collapse of Sanders’s attempt. By his own admission, Sanders needs “millions” of Americans to rise up and overthrow the current political regime in order for his candidacy to have any meaning. What sign is there that anything remotely like that is even close to happening?

Not sure what Webb was doing on that stage. He clearly thought that, given the reputations of the other four candidates, he could stake out the conservative Democrat position and grab those votes. But he miscalculated — Democrats want a conservative option in the party this year as badly as Republicans want a third Obama term.

Lincoln Chafee needs to rethink his position on gun safety…because he shot himself in the foot. That plaintive “My dad had died!” when asked about his vote on Glass-Steagal was just awful. I understood his point, but he bungled making it. There’s a way to do it and a way not to do it; Chafee went in the latter direction. All he needed to say was, “You know, Anderson, that was my first vote as a Senator. I don’t know if you know this, but I first joined the Senate when I was appointed to hold my father’s seat after he passed away. I was young and I cast a really bad vote under tough circumstances. Just an awful call on my part. I learned from that immediately and since then blah blah blah.” He wasn’t ready to answer that question. He was badly prepped. Which, of course, says absolutely zip about his ability to lead the country, but in our sound-bite world, it doesn’t matter.

I thought it was incredibly poor form for moderator Anderson Cooper to snark at Chafee’s “You’re looking at a block of granite” line. Let the guy actually say something before you jump on him.

Similarly, I was disappointed by Cooper referencing — on air — the off-air lateness of Clinton’s return to the stage, apparently from a bathroom break. Do I also need to know how many times O’Malley shook his dangle before flushing? Or that Sanders’s prostate slowed him down at the urinal? It bothered me, too, that Clinton then felt that she had to joke about it — “You know, it does take me a little longer. That’s all I can say.” — though I suppose on her team, they’re high-fiving another “She’s human!” moment that polls say they need.

Martin O’Malley impressed me, but then again he would — he’s my hometown hero, after all. Notice how obvious it is that he’s running for Veep, not for President. When give ample opportunity (multiple times!) to attack frontrunner Clinton, he demurred, choosing instead to broaden the issue. Trust me, Cooper was dying to have O’Malley jump all over Clinton, but O’Malley didn’t. When asked about Benghazi, for example, he said:

I think there’s lessons to be learned from Benghazi. And those lessons are that we need to do a much better job as a nation of having human intelligence on the ground so that we know who the emerging next generation leaders are that are coming up to replace a dictator when his time on this planet ends.

Doesn’t mention Clinton at all. Turns the focused question into a general one. Genius political move. And done very deftly. On a couple of occasions, he did take Clinton to task, but in a gentle way, as though apologetic. Sorry, Madame Secretary, but I have to do this so it’s not too obvious that I want to be your running mate. Political maneuvering at its finest. I raise a crab cake and a Natty Bo to you, Martin O’Malley, and God willing, I will vote for you for president in 2024.

Sanders had a rough moment during the Vladimir Putin question where he clearly had lost the thread of the conversation, saying, “Pardon me?” when Cooper tried to bring him in. He foundered for a moment and then — astonishingly — Cooper tossed him a lifeline. When Sanders said, “Well, I think Mr. Putin is going to regret what he is doing,” and then continued to sputter, “I think that when he gets into that…” Cooper interrupted to say, “He doesn’t seem to be the type of guy to regret a lot.” An absolutely meaningless non sequitur, but watching the debate, it clearly gave Sanders a moment to collect his thoughts and something to react against. Weird. I don’t think Cooper was necessarily trying to help Sanders, but broadcast personalities like Anderson Cooper just can’t resist inserting themselves into the moment — it’s what they do. And it’s why someone like Anderson Cooper shouldn’t moderate a debate.

I’ve saved Hillary for last because there’s actually little to say. She came across as more relaxed than during the Obama debates eight years ago, probably a function of some pretty intense prep, but also probably just a function of her actually being more relaxed. Which is nice for her because this election stuff is crazy and getting crazier every day. Good on her for being able to grin through it.

She came into the debate as the leader in the polls and the long-time presumptive nominee, and I don’t think anything changed last night. Sanders needed to convince people that he was credible, but Webb deflated that balloon handily and almost by accident. Chafee and Webb needed to impress people — they failed miserably. O’Malley just needed to show that he could string sentences together and look vice-presidential; mission accomplished.

Clinton needed to maintain an aura of invincibility while not seeming smug about it. That is a hard thing to do, and I think she nailed it. Americans like confidence but despise entitlement, and the two are easy to confuse. Especially on TV. And especially — let’s be honest — in the way we perceive women. There were a few stumbles on her part, some answers I didn’t like, but guess what? Not since Al Gore has there been a candidate for national office that I pretty much agreed with 100%. Hillary Clinton has her foibles and her flaws, but that’s only to say that she’s basically like almost everyone else I’ve ever voted for.

I can’t imagine Webb or Chafee sticking this out much longer. They had their shot and they blew it. O’Malley will stick around as long as he can, hoping to vacuum up any support from the dropouts and use that meager leverage to get a convention spot and, hopefully, the Veep slot.

Which leaves Sanders and Clinton, Clinton and Sanders. As I indicated above, Sanders just has no hope of being president. His victory scenario requires a tectonic shift in the way the electorate thinks, and despite his impressive crowds, I just don’t see that happening.

Clinton went into this debate as The One to Beat, and she emerged the same…only stronger. There is an ongoing prejudice against her as “strident” and “humorless” and “stiff” and — like I said before — “entitled,” and I think she defused any lingering remnants of those notions last night with a very natural, relaxed (again!), and confident performance.

She has some opponents with interesting ideas and she has the sort of baggage one has after living a public life for decades. Last night, she dealt with both handily. I would say she impressed me, but the fact is, she performed precisely as I expected her to. By dint of her experience and longevity, Hillary Clinton has reached that rarified political air where excellence is the minimal requirement, perfection preferred. She excelled last night — no one’s perfect.

 

(Debate quotations from the transcript at Time.com. Image from USAToday.com.)

How it Happened: Hero-Type

Hero-Type wasn’t supposed to be my third book. It wasn’t supposed to be anything, actually.

My original plan for my third book was going to be another in the “unseries” of Brookdale books, this one focusing on Fanboy’s best friend, Cal Willingham. But then I was sidetracked by something else, a very cool fantasy novel that quickly obsessed me. Unfortunately, it didn’t obsess anyone else — no one wanted to publish it. (I don’t blame them. It wasn’t ready. And it still isn’t. Someday, though…)

You’d think I would just go back to the Cal book, right? And I probably would have, if not for two things happening in close temporal proximity.

First of all, my best friend re-joined the army and was shipped off to Baghdad.

Second of all, the local newspaper covered the story of a heroic kid who had seen a girl being flashed by some loser in an alleyway. The kid — a high school wrestler — tackled the loser and held him in a headlock until the police came to arrest him.

I mused on this kid for a little while, but didn’t think much of it until a couple of days later, when a friend of mine happened to mention that the kid in question — now feted as a hero — had a history of disciplinary problems. He skipped school regularly and had been suspended once for bringing a knife to class.

Hero or not? Just in the right place at the right time? Who could tell?

I thought about how we treat heroes. How we put them on the highest pedestals…and then knock them off for our own amusement.

I though of my best friend, under his desk in Baghdad, emailing me as he sheltered from a rocket attack, acting as though it was no big deal.

This made me think about the recent election, in 2004, when John Kerry’s Vietnam heroism was twisted and perverted by cynical political operatives and a pliant media into something shameful and in need of defense.

That really pissed me off.

I thought of John Kerry and George Bush (bravely defending Fort Worth from the Viet Cong, that fucking louse) and I got angry. Really, really angry.

And then I read an article that said that, according to a survey, many high school seniors believed that the First Amendment went too far and that the government should have the power to censor the news media.

My blood was boiling. All of these elements swirled and churned within me, and I knew that I had to write about this. Everything else had to be put on hold. There was an election coming up in 2008, the year my next book would be published, and I wanted to do something political. I wanted to expel my rage onto the page and show it to the world.

And I knew something else. I knew that while adults had already settled into calcified notions of right and wrong and political expedience, kids hadn’t. They were still struggling with this stuff.

Fanboy was an artistic wunderkind. Josh from Boy Toy was a math genius.

I wanted to write about a normal kid. A C student. Struggling to understand the world around him, the big ideas, the politics, the things that inform our lives as we make decisions and develop our social conscience.

All of this — all of it — went into the stewpot.

Thus was Hero-Type born.

WiRL: “We have different brains”

Episode 35: The One with No Baby

Our intrepid podcasters take a huge step as parents. Vacation Brain turns out to be Creative Brain. What do you do when you have a great idea to improve your book…that you’ve already submitted? Spouses reading each other’s email. Plus, Morgan reads a newspaper. An actual newspaper.

Continuity for Babies

As a comic book geek of long standing, I love continuity between disparate projects, especially when background details in one book mean something in another one. In short, I dig background continuity. That’s why I wrote my Brookdale “unseries” the way I did.

As a parent, I find myself reading the same books to Leia over and over, to the point of considering some self-medication as prescribed by Dr. James Beam.

So when a series of books employs Point A to make Point B a little more delightful, I just have to give a shout out.

I’ve never met Jim Benton, but I have four of his board books on Leia’s bookshelf, and she really likes them. That may be on Mr. Benton’s native talent or that his books for some reason compel me to use extremely exaggerated voices when I read them aloud. In any event, they’re fun, they’re quirky, and they work.

They also all interconnect in subtle ways. Which makes me go from appreciating them to flat-out loving them.

Let’s begin with Mr. Benton’s ode to the creative urge and the artistic temperament, Piggy Paints. In Piggy Paints, Piggy — spoiler alert — paints.

But see what he paints:

Note Piggy’s sensitive yet bold exploration of swine’s cruelty toward swine, via the insertion of the predatory feline as a liminal figure.

Yes, Piggy is painting pigs (and a kitty in the middle), but take note of his specific style. It will come back to us soon.

But for now, let’s move on to Five Stinky Socks:

Extreme olfactory unpleasantness apparently warps the temporal continuum. Astutely observed.

Just remember those socks for a moment, as we peruse our copy of Mr. Benton’s Where’s My Fnurgle?, an examination of Man’s quest for inner light and spiritual guidance, externalized as a mischievous sprite.

Personally, I didn’t even know I had a Fnurgle, much less that it was missing, until I read this book.

See that? No, not the Fnurgle! The artwork on the wall! It’s a Piggy original for sure! Lovingly framed and hung with pride and care. The Fnurgle lives in the same universe as Piggy.

More importantly, as we turn to our fourth Benton book — Robot Kitties — we see something quite familiar…

Everywhere indeed! These robot kitties were churned out by a Foxconn facility that also builds iPhones.

Not only do the titular mechanical cats live in the same world as Piggy and the Fnurgle…they live in the same damn house! The wall and carpet and TV are the same — the couch, lamp, and end table match the chair, lamp, and table in Where’s My Fnurgle? This is the same room, in the same house, shown from a different angle. (In fact, it’s entirely possible this shot is from the Fnurgle’s window-leering vantage point!)

And what about those stinky socks? Well…

While creating art is a wetware-driven imperative for Piggy, painting piggies is merely how robot kitties pass the Turing test.

As this image from Robot Kitties reveals, those socks get around — one kitty is trying on two of them, even as another kitty employs its built-in PlagiArtist 2.0 software to mimic Piggy’s painting style.

My friends, the conclusion is inescapable. These four books — from the deviousness of the Fnurgle to Piggy’s pathological need to paint to the invasion of the robot kitties to the reek of the stinky socks — all take place not merely in a joined Bentonverse, but in the same domicile.

As I said at the start, I’ve never met Jim Benton…but I think we maybe read the same comic books growing up. Anyway, I want to thank him for giving me something to think about as I read to my daughter again…and again…and again…

“The King of Killers” Comes to Japan

Game is coming to Japan, under the title The King of Killers! You can check out the cover — once again by the amazing Sky Emma — below.

As with the Japanese edition of I Hunt Killers, the publisher has included an afterword by a prominent Japanese critic, this time Ms. Naomi Hoida. She writes (translated from Japanese):

Game is the second book of a trilogy which revolves around 17-year-old Jasper “Jazz” Dent, whose father is the worst serial killer of the 21st century.

I read the Japanese edition of I Hunt Killers early this summer. I confess, apologetically, that I might have underestimated it (a bit) as a “YA mystery.” However, I was totally blown away and fascinated by this one-of-a-kind thriller. The moment I closed the book, I began longing to know what would be going to happen next. Anyone who has already read it would relate to me and would thus join me in giving “thumbs up” on the launch of the Japanese edition of Game.

I Hunt Killers was a brilliant blend of the lyrical feel of a coming-of-age novel and a gripping, suspenseful thriller, which would probably sound antonymous.

The story opened as a female naked body was found in a peaceful town, Lobo’s Nod. Jazz, who was watching over the site full of cops, realized that it was the beginning of a serial killing. As the sheriff in charge didn’t buy his theory, Jazz began his own investigation – soon proving to be right. Having thoroughly trained by the most notorious serial killer of the century, Jazz was able to read criminals’ minds. He began using his skills to the fullest to chase the faceless murderer.

While you do see gruesome descriptions in I Hunt Killers, you would also notice the positive tone that runs throughout the work. This “fresh” feel owes much to the coming-of-age side of the story. It can never be easy to live as the son of a serial killer, especially in a small town where everyone knows who he is. However, Jazz has the courage to face the dark corner of his mind and tries to move forward. His struggling efforts cast a ray of hope on the work. I should also mention the contributions by Jazz’s friends Howie and Connie, whose sincere relationship with Jazz is a salvation for him.

And now we have Game. As the middle installment of the trilogy, the story develops and expands further, and it gets more thrilling.

Even if this is your first encounter with Jazz, you will do enjoy the story. To be honest, however, I recommend you reading I Hunt Killers first, so that you will have a better understanding of the masterfully woven plots and the deep concept of the entire series. This is far beyond a mere entertainment.

Several months since Jazz’s father broke out of prison, Jazz is visited by a NYC detective, Louis Hughes. The detective asks Jazz for help in investigating a series of murders by the “Hat Dog Killer”, who carves images of a dog or a hat into his victims. Hughes thought that Jazz would make a breakthrough in the investigation. Jazz wonders where or not he should go, but his instinct to hunt killers leads him to the Big Apple. As he looks into the case, he begins to find its connection with the copy-cat killer whom Jazz helped police capture in the previous book, and with his own father.

Game is a real page turner, and the coming-of-age tone seems to be more subtle compared with I Hunt Killers. However, you’ll find more character developments about Jazz’s girlfriend Connie, who follows Jazz to New York and involves herself in the case, and about Howie, who stays behind in Lobo’s Nod and helps Jazz in his own way. What further growth will they show by the time the trilogy reaches the end, and what about the story?

Having put down Game, I cannot wait to know what would be going to happen next. You feel so too? Good news, the Japanese edition for the third book, Blood of My Blood, is planned to be published in May 2016.

WiRL: “Goodnight, Mommy”

Episode 34: The One with Technical Difficulties

Barry is now a Colonel. Leia gets sick for the first time ever. Is Amy Schumer’s book deal ridiculous or merely insane? Barry’s obsession with quoting Stephen King. An insult levied at the entire movie-making and movie-loving world. And Morgan can’t stomach a book.

Stories I Never Told: Bruce Wayne for President!

This one is of slightly more recent vintage than the others in this series, probably the late 1990s. Influenced, I am pretty sure, by Ross Perot’s bid for President as an independent candidate.

Because, well, Ross Perot = eccentric billionaire and Bruce Wayne = eccentric billionaire, so you do the math. Seemed very obvious to Young Barry, a story ripe for exploitation.

We would open on Batman in darkness, struggling to get into his Bruce Wayne suit and tie. There’s a loud voiceover; someone is introducing someone very important.

Batman is actually sweating as he attempts to get into Bruce Wayne’s garb. Something is wrong and the voice keeps going on and on, until suddenly a curtain is pulled back as the voice says, “…introducing the President of the United State, Bruce Wayne!”

And there he is, half-in and half-out of his Batman costume, revealed to the world.

It’s a nightmare, of course. One of many he’s been having ever since a consortium of moneymen and politicians came to him a week ago, encouraging him to run for President as an independent candidate.

“You’re young, good-looking, and popular. You have a record of being tough on crime, but you’re also known as a compassionate philanthropist. You can’t lose, Bruce. Think of the good you can do.”

And he does think of the good he can do. He thinks of it every night as goes out to stop crime as the Batman. In a good night, he can prevent maybe a dozen crimes. Solve maybe three more unsolved cases. In his spare time, he can help the police, dropping ideas into their laps that will help them solve dozens more. His mere presence — his legend — is a deterrent throughout the city. But — he wonders as he crushes a thug’s jaw — is that anything compared to the power of the Presidency?

He goes to talk to Superman. For advice. Perspective.

BATMAN: Can I be honest with you, Clark?

SUPERMAN: When have you ever NOT been?

BATMAN: Sometimes you annoy me. I think of what I could do with your powers. Change the world.

SUPERMAN: That’s not my job. I’m a steward. I protect the status quo. Anything else would be interfering with human destiny on a scale I don’t like to contemplate.

BATMAN: Then how would that be different from me being President?

SUPERMAN: The difference is that the people would be giving you the power, not a yellow sun. They’d be ASKING you to change their world. And hey, Bruce?

BATMAN: Yes?

SUPERMAN: Sometimes it annoys me, too.

Ultimately, Bruce would choose not to run because he realizes it would put him under such a microscope that his identity would be revealed…and no one would vote for Batman.

But at the end, he wonders — is he just using that as an excuse? Is he so obsessed that he’s turning down a chance to change the world because he loves the feeling of righting wrongs personally, not in the abstract?

And he wonders — what does this mean about him?

A nice, simple, done-in-one character piece. I liked it then, and in all honesty, I still like it now.

I seem to have a dim memory of one of the Bat-books feinting in this direction some time in the 2000s, but that’s the closest DC has ever come to plucking this one out of my brain. Interestingly, a few years after I came up with this, though, they did have Lex Luthor run for President…and win!