Kevin A. Ranson's Blog, page 4

It’s Not Me I’m Worried About #Election2016

It’s not me I’m worried about.

What’s the big deal? I’m a middle-aged white guy. Isn’t that the demographic that voted our president-elect into office last night? Party on, right? Let’s bring back those hands-on jobs lost to mechanization and superior technology. Let’s close all borders and stop policing the world because, hey, what could go wrong out there? Anyone who works with Americans should just come to us because we are the alpha and omega — our way or the highway.

Again, it’s not me I’m worried about.

There are people I know who are afraid for their lives this morning. Medical insurance that covers pre-existing conditions and access to medicine going away. The right to marry the person you love may be lost… or worse, denied basic services needed to sustain human life. Half of our population no longer permitted to decide for themselves if they should risk their own life to bring a child to term or allowed steps to prevent one. Hard-working folks and good people who may no longer be safe in our country because terrorism will be inexorably linked to one particular religion. People waiting on hold because the suicide hotlines are overloaded and keep dropping calls.

No, it’s not me I’m worried about.

It’s you.

#election2016

Filed under: Existentialism Tagged: #election2016, America, Election 2016, Medical insurance, middle-aged, pre-existing conditions, president, religion, terrorism, United States, white, worried

A Near-Life Experience

I became ill the first week of June 2016, dismissing it as a minor bug — “con crud” as conventioneers say — and something I could get over with fluids, over-the-counter meds, and rest.

Except I didn’t. I was running a fever on and off, at one point hitting 102.5 F, so after battling for a week, I reluctantly went to the doctor that Thursday. After getting a cocktail of antibiotics injected into me, I assumed all would be well…until it wasn’t. I would find out later that I was far more sick and exhausted than I knew, and when the shot took effect, it did its job so well my forty-something body was no longer up to the task.

At some point later in the evening, my short-term memory failed and I’ve been told I started babbling. I don’t remember that night or the panic that set in when my family found me the next morning before calling an ambulance. The shot had started killing off viruses so quickly that I couldn’t flush them out fast enough. Systems started shutting down, and at 340 pounds, my family couldn’t move me to the car. The ambulance drivers didn’t give me much of a chance, but they didn’t waste any time, either.

I remember having some kind of dream about being in a the bottom of a boat, moving inside, as if I was being taken somewhere. There’s a high probability it was how I imagined the ambulance ride or maybe ICU; which one I couldn’t say. Fortunately, for being big and tall, I’m pretty resilient and managed to survive the following two days until I was functioning on my own again. The doctors were afraid something might have been permanently damaged, from my kidneys all the way to my brain.



The week I spent in the hospital afterward resting was less of a blur, and my wife Linda coming to see me along with my mother-in-law raised my spirits. What I could not understand was how I’d gotten there and why I was so weak. A neurologist would come in twice a day and ask me what day or year it was; that can be pretty difficult without a calendar and no phone app to crib from. I also discovered that doctors and nurses don’t fully appreciate a dark sense of humor — hello! Horror writer! — and questioned my mental “recovery.” Eventually I provided an impromptu presentation, logically thought out to convince the neurologist I was my old self again, and soon I got the green light to go home.

I’d lost 40 pounds…the hard way. My balance was shot and my legs didn’t have the strength to hold me up. Being laid off from my day job a few weeks earlier worked out in my favor; I had time to rest, use a walker, and push myself in a bit of home physical therapy. I recovered quickly enough and am still getting my stamina back, but I found I couldn’t eat as much. My tolerable portions were half or smaller than what I was used to, but I decided it wasn’t such a bad thing. As I’ve progressed, I’ve kept my new weight right where it is and am now adding more exercise to my routine. If I do eat out and if I can’t order from the kids menu, I just cut everything in half and take that portion home as a second meal to be enjoyed the next day.

So, lessons learned:

If you’re running a fever for more than three days, get thee to a doctor or ER…don’t wait.
If you’re too sick to answer a question, a hospital should be the next stop.
Neurologists aren’t properly trained on how to assess the borderline sanity of an imaginative horror writer.
When you eat half as much, there’s TWICE as much food!
Never take for granted the love and support of your family when it comes to a crisis.

I’ll leave you with the following exchange that actually happened. My wife was sitting next to me when a nurse entered the room and handed me a generic card before saying, “Happy Father’s Day” (FYI: we have no children). Pleased with herself, the nurse waited on some kind of reaction. I turned to my wife in confusion, back to the nurse (who was looking concerned) then back to my wife again and asked, “How long was I out?”

Filed under: Creativity, Existentialism, Physicality Tagged: ambulance, antibiotics, con crud, hospital, Kevin A. Ranson, Pneumonia

Supergirl Revisited: Darkness and Light in Storytelling

In October of 2015, CBS launched “Supergirl” for a 13-episode order. I even published an article about it. Maybe it was a bid by the network to lure in younger viewers or maybe an appeal to older ones, but one thing was certain: this Supergirl was going to be a force for hope, good, and all that stuff. In a television and movie landscape now dominated by dark and sometimes murdering superheroes, this one was going to remain incorruptible in spite of many temptations.

You know — the way Superman used to be.

Actor Christopher Reeve was quoted with saying, “Once you choose hope, anything’s possible.” It isn’t clear if he was saying that in-character or not, but it was probably both.

Happy so far, CBS bumped the show to a full-series order: a total of 20 episodes. The show hasn’t been perfect; from a front-loaded overstuffed pilot to a world where science seems to serve the weekly plot and physics be damned, the one consistency has been Melissa Benoist. The “Glee” actress has so completely embodied the character of Supergirl and brought so much of her A-game, you’d think she was going for an Oscar in a feature film if she didn’t look so honest doing it. Considering that two other actresses on the show — Helen Slater and Laura Vandervoort — have both played the character, it’s hard now to imagine anyone better for the role than Melissa Benoist (yeah, she’s that good).



As cheesy and silly as some of the effects and plot points can be, Ms. Benoist BECOMES Supergirl in those moments: an orphaned alien determined to make a difference, willing to put her life on the line to give everyone a chance at redemption even when all she’d rather do is punch something really hard. Kudos to the writers and showrunners for knowing what they have and everyone who’s championed hope as the theme of the show. In spite of the ridiculous premise of having Supergirl’s secret identity Kara Danvers work for mega-mogul Cat Grant, Calista Flockhart — the show’s real secret weapon — steals scene after scene and serves as both Kara and Supergirl’s mentor for what a powerful woman can be…even while teaching Cat that hope can provide far more opportunity than making people fear you.

While the concept seems naive, this is “Supergirl Begins,” and she makes mistakes — a LOT of mistakes. Cat Grant gets all the best lines speaking for the cynics in the audience preferring to laugh at such a silly superhero, right up until it isn’t funny anymore. While hope is a big thing on the show, heart is even more so, and Supergirl as a symbol is more important than both her screw-ups and successes. With the most recent episode and a decision on what percentage of 4 million people is considered acceptable collateral damage, even Supergirl’s series arch nemesis Maxwell Lord (Peter Facinelli) looks the hero in the eye and says “I’m listening”…and you believe it.

As of this writing, no one know’s the true fate of “Supergirl.” No, not if our hero will survive the season finale next Monday but whether or not CBS will pull the plug and make this the SERIES finale. Here’s the thing: in a cinematic and television landscape of dark knights, punishers, getting away with murder, and bat-beaten zombie apocalypse survivors, a little light is necessary to appreciate the darkness.

Don’t take away our symbol of hope.

Don’t kill off “Supergirl,” CBS.

Filed under: Creativity, Critiquery, Existentialism, Hollywood Tagged: Calista Flockhart, Cat Grant, Darkness, Helen Slater, Kara Danvers, Laura Vandervoort, Light, Maxwell Lord, Melissa Benoist, Peter Facinelli, Storytelling, Supergirl., Superman

The Matriarch, Harry Potter, and Native Appropriations

There’s been a bit of flack surrounding the previews on JK Rowling’s Pottermore website regarding “magical” North American history, specifically in the way it includes Native American culture. If you weren’t aware, this is all advertisement for the new Harry Potter film entitled Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them arriving in theaters November 2016; the Pottermore website has published four installments of the abbreviated “History of Magic in North America.” While there are many issues pointed out by various news outlets, this is the one that hurts the most and that I’m most familiar with.

The Problem With Magic Folk

“So what?” people post online. “It’s fiction. She can make up whatever she wants.” None of this is real, so who does it hurt? The actual people, for one thing. Native Americans are real people with a real culture; they haven’t died out or ceased to exist. It’s not just one culture, either; there are currently 562 federally recognized Indian Nations (source: ncai.org), and their uniqueness is hanging on in spite of centuries spent actively destroying it. No, not just the English colonists; the French and Spanish both had equal hands in it.

In Hollywood, there has long existed a trope of “the helpful Indian who appears from nowhere,” so clearly they must be magical. Think Peter Pan and The Lone Ranger; help is needed, the indigenous mystics appear, do their thing, then conveniently disappear. It’s a plot device: deus ex shamana. Like faeries, trolls, and goblins, the truth can be lost to legend. Using Britain’s own fables as an example, there were reportedly a dozen Robin Hoods who all became one man, and King Arthur’s stories can be traced to several individuals who were embellishment through oral tradition.

Native Americans do exist and want to keep their cultures and traditions alive. Learn about it all you like and tell others, but embellishing the facts — changing them — and attributing details to all tribes as a whole dilutes its uniqueness. Like a game of telephone, the truth is being lost because the details are wrong.

Why Include Native Americans at All?

So the idea is that North America also had a wizarding society; if we go back to before the Europeans arrived, the Native Americans were the only ones here. Details are vague, reportedly because the details reveal surprises in the upcoming movie: what and where is the Hogwarts of North America? From the Pottermore website:

The legend of the Native American ‘skin walker’ – an evil witch or wizard that can transform into an animal at will – has its basis in fact. A legend grew up around the Native American Animagi, that they had sacrificed close family members to gain their powers of transformation.

Even referring to this as “the Native American wizarding community” is a problem. Skinwalkers are a Navajo legend; while other tribes have stories of shape shifters, this isn’t an all-inclusive term or idea. It paints a false picture of all Native Americans as one culture: an amalgamate entity. Will their appearances be blended as well? A thousand languages? Their temperament? Are the filmmakers aware there were no written versions of these spoken languages until the Europeans arrived? If any Native American witch or wizard has an ancient spell book or potions manual, it’d better be written in French, Spanish, or Mayan ideographs.

Always Respect the Source Material

One of my recent novels featured a vampire who was born a Cherokee woman. Since the series is set in central West Virginia and I needed a character who had witnessed the birth of the United States, I decided to go away from the expected Scot-Irish colonial immigrant and opted for a Native American. My own family likely has both Shawnee and Cherokee within our ancestry, but records may also have been obscured to hide their true heritage. While I could have created anyone, my research turned up an individual who was not only ideal for the character but added the weight of actual history; where her story ended, her fictional counterpart as an immortal could begin.

I agonized over getting the details correct, including having both a native Cherokee and a fellow writer of indigenous descent advise me to ensure I presented her characterization appropriately. There was a lot of gray area to play in, but I wanted to include as many details as my research could provide. I was praised in my depiction for breaking with modern stereotype and presenting the character as successful, a recognized educator, and a positive role model. For that alone, I could be proud of my work.

As writers doing research to ground our fiction in the real world, what does it hurt to be respectful? Don’t gloss over the details; learn and incorporate them. Harry Potter is an established franchise with hundreds of millions of fans; at the mere hints of an indigenous culture being included, readers wanted to know more. Providing real detail with an established history while playing with the gray spaces only makes the world feel more realistic. A police procedural should get the forensics right. A mission to Mars needs working rocket science. When you’re dealing with immortals having lived for centuries, history happened, and your character was either involved or affected.

I love the Harry Potter series and have the utmost respect for its author, but I sincerely hope that research was done to enhance the details the final story before it reaches theaters. If not, this will have been a terrible opportunity to have missed.

Filed under: Creativity, Existentialism, Hollywood, Literarian Tagged: deus ex shamana, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Harry Potter, Indian, JK Rowling, Magic Folk, Native Appropriations, Peter Pan, Pottermore, The Lone Ranger, the matriarch

The Ballad of Murder Joe: A Cautionary Tale

Full disclosure: nobody died, his name wasn’t Joe, and thankfully no one was singing. And yet this is a true story.

While on a trip to my home state of West “By God” Virginia, my spouse and I were on our way between stops when we had to change lanes on Southbound I-79 just before midnight. We were in high spirits, having found a favorite restaurant open on our way and looking forward to some much deserved sleep, but being deer season, a buck had wandered onto the road and been struck. The lane change had been to avoid the fresh carcass, just behind another vehicle who had done the same.

Before we could switch out of the passing lane, the vehicle in front of us did so abruptly; a thick wooden or metal grating was in the lane and over it we went. The front tire cleared but my right rear tire snagged. A tire pressure warning on my dashboard appeared almost instantly, and Exit 5 was just ahead. I caught a glimpse of a gas station sign, so I took the exit. As I made the turn, I felt how badly the tire was pulling, so I stopped beneath the underpass to check it.

This was my first mistake.

You’re more visible on the interstate — even in a rural state like West Virginia. At midnight on a moonless night, it’s dark…like REALLY dark. Get off the road but don’t leave the road. The other problem was it was highly unlikely either of the aforementioned gas stations were open; this is a state where the capital rolls up its sidewalks at dusk. Moving on…

Realizing where I’d stopped, and took my high-lumen flashlight out and did a quick sweep of the underpass; we were alone. While I was born in WV, movies like Wrong Turn are far more realistic than The Blair Witch Project, so we weren’t looking for any encounters. I had a tire pump and a repair kit but not a spare, something my car manufacturer assured us was more than adequate.

This was my second mistake.

I have low-profile tires. They look good and grip the road really well, but what I didn’t know then is the grating had gashed my tire’s sidewall, something the repair kit wasn’t going to fix. The tire was a loss and we were stuck. A donut could have gotten us back on the road and to our next destination. Lessons learned.

And then Murder Joe appeared out of the darkness.



We weren’t being loud and the only other sound was the very occasional car going by above us. Murder Joe was less than ten feet away when he stumbled toward me asking if we needed help. I flinched. Tall and thin but with a solid build, he was under-dressed for the cold; jean jacket, light work gloves and a greasy ball cap. My home state is full of friendly people and I could smell faint alcohol on him; if he’d been there to kill us, he’d already missed his opportunity. My spouse and I are both veterans — I look more dangerous but she’s the black belt — so I kept his attention on me and not my spouse behind him…just in case. But hey, I’d had just gotten the pump out with the repair kit, so I let him help while I held the flashlight.

The tire was a no-go. Murder Joe did all the country boy mechanic things trying to get air into it, so I thanked him and said a tow truck was on the way. Joe still seemed intent on helping, and that’s when his hand went inside his open jacket. I stepped back defensively and my spouse was already behind him, but all he drew out was a small book with pictures of Elvis with a sleeved baseball card tucked in like a bookmark. It was funnier to think it was an Elvis baseball card, but that would have been a lie. The friendly drunk started mumbling something about this-that and the other, so I maneuvered him in the presumed direction he appeared to have been heading in before stopping. He mumbled something else about a sister-in-law close by he could call (with MY phone), but I dissuaded him, said good night, and he disappeared into the darkness again.

With both of us being horror writers (and concerned Joe might come back with his five evil brothers to finish the job), my spouse and I hastily coordinated the aforementioned tow truck that could get us home. Moments later, a WV Courtesy Patrol vehicle spotted us as she was turning around and stayed until the tow truck got there. We all talked for a while; she’d been called out about the deer and grating we’d run over and was there to check it out. Let me say here that those guys are woefully underfunded and need a cash infusion if they’re really going to continue doing jobs like that; vote the Courtesy Patrol in some more money, West Virginia!

On the way back, my spouse and I started joking about the tipsy stranger. He’d said his name was Tim or something, but Murder Joe sounded funnier, and before long it became “The Ballad of Murder Joe.” Nothing bad had happened, but things could have been worse. If Joe had been the less-friendly sort or if we had been someone less friendly, things could have escalated. Worse yet, while good ol’ boys and folks in West Virginia are generally the helpful sort, there’s been too many reports of heroin usage in the state these days and crimes relating to addicts looking for easy scores.

Sure, there were a few tense moments on a dark deserted highway with the cool wind in our hair, but everyone lived to tell the tale. The tire was replaced and the rest of our Turkey Week vacation went off without a hitch.

But as horror writers, we’ll always wonder what became of Murder Joe.

Filed under: Conspiracies, Creativity, Existentialism, Horrificus, Satire Tagged: good ol boys, horror writers, Murder Joe, The Blair Witch Project, tires, veterans, West Virginia, Wrong Turn

Innocence Incarnate Vs. Femme Fatales

Are nice guys actually doomed to loneliness forever, or are they just forever helpless in the power of the femme fatales they pine after?

Full disclosure: this is the kind of character dissection that happens too early in the morning, just after waking up, between two writers married to each other. It was inspired in part by “The Blacklist” is which (spoilers!) Aram breaks a promise because he felt betrayed by sweet, smart, deadly Navabi.

Aram is an NSA coder and cracker who wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s a successful nerd working in the intelligence community in too-close proximity of female operatives waaaaay out of his league. Part of the problem is Aram himself; he hides nothing and expects others (read: SPIES) to do the same. But Aram also puts women he admires and respects — and often fancies — upon a pedestal, equating beauty and strength with self-imposed standards of nobility and purity.

Aram is a nice guy who is enchanted by femme fatales.

What Aram doesn’t understand is he isn’t the kind of guy that agents Navabi and Keen would see as a potential lover let alone a serious love interest. Never mind “don’t get your honey where you make your money,” but he isn’t alone in the world. Lots of guys like him exist, looking for perfect women to idolize and secretly (or publicly) dispising them when they discovere how unangelic real people are. It reeks of an overprotective single mom raising her boy to have only respect for proper ladies…but those aren’t the kinds Aram is attracted to.

The worst part — and this isn’t Aram’s fault — is that these idolic women ask him nicely for favors, and he’s only too happy to do as he’s been manipulated. They know who they’re preying upon (yes, that’s as bad as it sounds), but it’s obvious that Aram is a one-woman kind of guy who sees a potential mate in a preconceived image: pure, honest, and morally perfect. He can be manipulated because he sees himself as unworthy while hoping beyond hope he’ll be “chosen” — not out of pity but because a the right woman will recognize his inner nobility and potential eternal devotion.

In other words, he’s a bad guy waiting to happen.

The good news is that many nice guys realize how gray the world can be before they go completely evil. Aram is socially isolated when it comes to the opposite sex, a guy who’d rather read technical manuals and surf the dark web rather than hone the wooing skills that would possibly net him the strong beauty he feels he deserves. At the same time, he doesn’t feel he should have to do this because a worthy woman wouldn’t want someone like that; “Why can’t they see (whomever) for the terrible person he is?” This sets up Aram for continuous heartbreak and disappointment because his dream angel doesn’t exist… but he’s also secretly jealous of the handsome rogues and white knights who seem to “get the girls” effortlessly.

We all admire the brutal honesty of Aram because we can relate; he’s innocence incarnate. We also hope he’ll find someone equally idealistic who hasn’t had her heart destroyed by falling for the wrong guy. But the real truth is we hope he’ll land somewhere between a friend-zoned doormat and a bitter resentful bastard that does unto others what was done unto him.

The guy with the big noble heart doesn’t have to also be the loser in love; he just needs to stop hating himself for who he doesn’t have… so he can be seen for someone worth having.

Hang in there, Aram; nice guys everywhere are pulling for you.

Filed under: Conspiracies, Critiquery, Existentialism Tagged: Aram, femme fatales, innocence, nice guys, The Blacklist

The Vampire’s Privilege

Why vampires?

As an author with vampire series, it’s a question I hear often.

The short answer is because people still like them…and so do I.

To my mind, it is perfectly understandable why people continue to identify with vampires. It isn’t about becoming a reanimated corpse or the need for blood; it’s the promise of eternal life after death and finding empowerment in a curse — turning a negative into a positive. Yes, there’s sex and blood and rock n’ roll, but the part that makes it so relatable — even desirable — is the empowerment.

To quote Tyler Durden from Fight Club: “All the ways you wish you could be, that’s me. I look like you wanna look, I f**k like you wanna f**k, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not.” Like Tyler, the laws of men and death no longer apply to the vampire; the undead dictate their own rules and they follow their own code. Both cursed and blessed to watch the world die around them while they endure, vampires are elevated demigods who remember once being merely human.

The promise of being insulated from the ravages of time, to become a spectator rather than a mere participant in the human condition, is the vampire’s privilege.

Any questions?

Filed under: Cemetery, Creativity, Existentialism, Horrificus, Literarian Tagged: #amwriting, Kevin A. Ranson, vampires

A Writer Writes… Except When They Don’t

An interesting article was pointed my way by J.H. Moncrieff entitled “Writers, We Need to Stop Saying This.” It makes a case for the once-defining advice that “a writer writes.” That’s true in context — you aren’t a writer if you’ve never written — but it can also be a source of frustration for the writer who HAS already written. The reason is obvious:

Writer’s block is a real thing.

Sometimes it’s pressure to perform or succeed, to break in or break out, or to duplicate a previous success. Sometimes it’s intruding external life events or a complete lack of inspiration. But when you’re told a writer writes and you’re not writing, those self-worth doubts begin to creep in — a self-fulfilling prophecy.

As any career writer will tell you, there is a degree of luck involved to being discovered and becoming popular or recommended, but a body of existing work is the best way to not only become successful but to be ready for it. But I offer a counterpoint for the writer who has already written:

A writer THINKS about writing even when they’re not.

When it’s time to write, I write. When it isn’t and I’m not writing, I think about writing…a lot. I take notes. I imagine scenes and let them play out over and over. I entertain myself with ideas. I wait until I’m so ready to write because I haven’t been writing that I can’t wait to write.

Then — and only then — I write.

It’s a form of self-encouragement, anticipating the impending work of the wordsmith. When inspiration is lacking and real life keeps you from escaping into imaginary worlds, screaming at a blank page isn’t therapeutic for everyone, and neither is beating yourself up about it.

One trick I use is writing to an ending — meaning I know my ending before I get there. This keeps me excited to reach that ending and drives my first draft, but I’ve learned that a weak story and a bad ending can also gum up the machinery, and sometimes you have to walk away. This doesn’t work for everyone, but I know when to stop because I know when I’m done. It also doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind over the ending. Good realistic characters can surprise you; let them, but also remember what makes a story work: a beginning, a middle, and an ending that fit together.

Stories need to make sense because, far too often, real life doesn’t.

There’s a fun little 1992 flick with Tom Selleck called Mr. Baseball about an American pro ball player traded to a Japanese team. The new coach recognizes that his player is disenchanted with the sport, seeing that Tom anticipates the worst possible results… and gets them. The coach takes him off the team to make the player hit golf balls with a bat at a driving range (while others are using actual clubs) and to hit other things. After a while, the angry and frustrated Tom finally screams, “I’m sick of this crap! I want to hit a baseball!” After making the player repeat those words until the lesson is learned, the coach replies, “NOW you’re ready.”

Are you ready?

Filed under: Creativity, Existentialism, Literarian Tagged: #amwriting, endings, inspiration, writers block

The Darkness and the Light in Storytelling: Contrast and Supergirl

I’m a horror writer. I prefer weird fiction. But not everything has to be blood, guts, and gore all the time; not everything has to be evil. In fact, the beauty of the Dark is that it balances the Light. Without the Light, there is no contrast.

So today I champion the Light.

Yes, I’m talking about general concepts. The Light is seen as being bright, positive, and giving of itself while the Dark is supposed to brood, call attention to the flaws of the world, and celebrate the non-conformist standards that feel a world away from childhood innocence. Ever notice how “good” is spoken of in simple terms while “bad” contains an inherit complexity, ideas that come with experience: life isn’t fair, good guys don’t always win, and not everyone gets the boy or girl?

The flip side of that coin is what those who embrace the Darkness often understand better than their counterparts: the Light is acceptance and being accepted, those who gain attention. Beautiful, strong, privileged, and loved…never mind it can all be a mask. “Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog” may be the best-ever example of showing heroes and villains in the simplest terms of how backwards things can get when our expectations are taught rather than learned. The hero is villain; the villain is the hero. We are meant to relate to being the loser who is destined to lose.

Storytelling is drama; it creates meaning to all of life’s randomness. Fate, Destiny, Kismet, and all that. But the Darkness is a place that the Light fears to tread, and rightly so. When love and affection is taken away; when the means to support yourself within the established system can’t be meant; when life must be lived on the fringe and fought for every day both within and without.



Those who survive become something more; like a great antique, damage comes from history, and history is what gives it value. It’s about the scars, not about being perfect.

But being perfect in the eyes of society is the goal, according to the media. The best clothes, the best phone, the best house, the best car. To be seen as a status symbol, a celebrity, a role-model to aspire to. The cliché of the only thing journalists enjoy more than building someone up is tearing them down is a very human trait; if we can’t reach the stars, we’ll pull them down to our level to make us feel better about not being stars ourselves.

Not all who lurk in the Darkness feel that way…those who’ve felt its touch.

Wendy and Richard Pini’s “Elfquest” saga has much to say about the nature of the Dark and the Light. Some of the elves in the World of Two Moons are immortal while others eventually die. The immortals think of tomorrow and keep themselves safe, while the Wolfriders embrace the “now” of wolf-thought: live for today, for tomorrow you may die. The character of tribal chief Cutter was tainted when he found himself enduring countless years without those he loved more than life itself, fearing he would die before seeing them again. The loss of “now” gave way to “looking ahead,” but he understood that something precious had been lost – an innocence – something he didn’t want anyone else to have to experience.

For some, Darkness is where people exist while trying to find their way back into the Light, but they discover it isn’t where they’re meant to be. Their place is to help others avoid the Darkness, the only way to fight it. To quote Firefly’s Captain Malcolm Reynolds: “The woods are the only place I can see a clear path.” Lost in the Darkness, the Light is clearer ahead.

These types of characters and their stories are full of truth and wonderful for those who’ve lived, good souls who have touched the shadows.

But too much shadow tends to eventually swallow us. Which brings us back to the Light.

Superman used to be about four-color truth, justice, and the American way. He had seen evil, but (originally) never had to become evil to know it was wrong. Sometimes there are villains – antagonists who don’t believe what they are doing is wrong – who believe taking anything, everything, and anyone they want is okay.

In a television landscape full of police procedurals and terrible crimes, dark detectives and villains as main characters, “Castle” has stood out for a while as light-hearted fare. While its writers seem incapable of allowing the Castle-Beckett thing to mature into an actual adult relationship instead of “Moonlighting” it (note: watch “Farscape” to see this done successfully), it has been a positive show for most of its run…and we could use a little more of that these days.

Now is the eve of the new CBS debut of “Supergirl,” cousin to Superman coming into her own deciding to be a hero instead of remaining hidden away. The trailers bleed wide-eyed innocence, the belief a well-thrown punch can save the world from all of its problems. Of course it would have to be a girl since not all audiences will accept childhood idealism from so-called menfolk, but isn’t it time for some optimism?

If this story can take the Light as seriously as others take their Darkness, it could work. It could be wonderful.

Don’t screw this up.

How else will the Darkness continue to be noticed?

Filed under: Creativity, Existentialism, Hollywood Tagged: Castle, Darkness, Dr. Horrible, Elfquest, Light, Storytelling, Supergirl.

Vampire Books for Blood: Buy a Book, Feed a Vampire #VampBooks4Blood

Buy a book, feed a starving vampire. No, wait…is that right? Spread the word!

http://www.wtfbooks.net/Vampire_Books_for_Blood.html

#VampBooks4Blood

Filed under: Cemetery, Creativity, Horrificus, Literarian Tagged: #amwriting, #VampBooks4Blood, #VWSG, vampires