Claire Ryan's Blog, page 4

Bookbinding – A Giant Notebook, and a Punching Cradle

Well, now that The Nameless Knight has been released and I can finally take a breather, I’ve got some new bookbinding projects completed that I’d like to show you guys.

The Giant Coptic Notebook

So I found that I needed a large notebook for mind-mapping and plotting the final book of the Daemonva Trilogy, so I created this – a Coptic notebook, using fine quality paper, that’s about double the size of my usual 8.5″x5.5″ books. It opens and lays flat for a very large surface on which I can draw out all kinds of diagrams, plot threads, that kind of thing.

No photos of the inside, because spoilers! The stack of signatures in the second image are the usual size, so this notebook is quite a bit bigger.

The Punching Cradle

I decided that I needed to get some kind of punching cradle for doing my signatures. I’ve been using an old dictionary as my cradle but it’s just not working well, so off I went to Google to look for pictures of DIY cradles. And here’s the result – a punching cradle cobbled together out of 1/4″ book board and duct tape.

Cool, huh? I grabbed some big pieces of book board, each around 12″ square, and cut them both in half. Then I took two halves and cut a 4″ long slot on either side of them that’s 1″ in from the edge. The slot was 3/8ths of an inch wide. Then I lined up the halves with the slots facing each other and about 1/4″ of an inch between them – so they could fold properly – and wrapped duct tape around the sides and put a small piece in the middle for strength.

Then I folded the halves together, opened them again, and slotted the other two pieces into the V to make the cradle! I marked some notches on the holder pieces that you can see in the second photo so that the fold will sit comfortably and won’t shift around while I’m punching signatures.

Not bad for fifteen minutes work, eh?

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The post Bookbinding – A Giant Notebook, and a Punching Cradle appeared first on Raynfall.

The Nameless Knight is now available!

I’m fond of soft launches, so it’s likely that some of you will know this already, but The Nameless Knight has been released! It’s now available on Amazon, and will be available soon on Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo Books, and a bunch more through Smashwords’ extended distribution.

. More will be added as they become available. For anyone who still hasn’t read The Meldling, check out that book page for its links – it’s either free or only 99c everywhere now!

THE NAMELESS KNIGHT continues the story of Suzanna and her companions, as they battle the evil sorcerer Dariem and try to prevent another war between humanva and daemonva.

The forces of the Daeva-Ra have been routed, and the daemons of Halca have become a part of the underground city of Bastion. For many war-weary humanva and daemonva, the future is bright and happy.

But for the meldling Suzanna, there can be no peace.

The sorcerer who created her has struck again, and scores of unstable meldlings are appearing all across the humanva realm. These twisted, violent creatures, created from a fusion gone wrong of a daemon or daeva with a human, attack with suicidal fury and kill everything in their path.

Though Bastion is insulated from the violence on the surface, the Outposts are not so lucky, and suffer an onslaught of meldling attacks. Old fears die hard as panicked humans turn on the daemons among them, and when the first Outpost falls to infighting, the choice is clear: the sorcerer Dariem must be found and stopped.

Naomee, a member of the Council of the Distant Nine and a powerful sorceress in her own right, has found a way to track their enemy. Suzanna herself is unique – the only stable meldling ever created – and she is the perfect bait to draw the sorcerer out of hiding. With a heavy and fearful heart, she accepts the Council’s grim request to put an end to the meldling attacks.

With Naomee’s guidance and the help of her companions, she follows the trail of the sorcerer to the surface, intending to capture him and stop his evil schemes for good. But Dariem, who has evaded the Council’s magic at every turn, is more cunning than any of them anticipate. They are ambushed, and Lukas, Suzanna’s husband, is abducted. An unconscious daeva is left in his place – a daeva meldling with the armor of a knight, with seemingly no memory of his past, and without even a name.

Suzanna has to find Lukas before he becomes the sorcerer’s next experiment, and stop Dariem before the Outposts and Bastion fall to his deranged meldling army. The nameless knight is the only one who can lead her to him. But how can she find the way if his memories are destroyed, and how can she trust an unstable meldling who might be one small step away from insanity?

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The post appeared first on Raynfall.

The Making of The Nameless Knight

With the release of getting close, it’s time to make the first print copy.  I’ve been looking around for a new binding style that’ll work better with the paper I can get through my printer, and with the help and advice of /r/Bookbinding on Reddit, I found it! Now all my books will be made like this.

If you’re not a bookbinding wonk, this might not be interesting to you, but here goes:

I have to print my books (obviously) and it’s not feasible to print using an inkjet printer because of the high cost of ink. The only other option available to me at a reasonable price is using a laser printer, and that’s what I do. My big monochrome behemoth cost about CAD$160, and the toners are about CAD$50 apiece, but I’ll get 10-15 books out of each so it’s not too bad.

Laser printers use a lot of heat, though, and it tends to warp the paper just a tiny bit. This isn’t an issue for paper that’s long grain, meaning the grain runs parallel to the long edge. Long grain paper going through a heated toner fuser means the grain is perpendicular to the heat source, and it warps the edges a little. But this presents another issue – in order to do a 5.5″ x 8.5″ case binding, I need the 8.5″ x 11″ paper to be short grain. (Using long grain paper in this binding means that any glue applied to the spine causes the paper to warp at that point.) Short grain means the grain is parallel to the short edge, not the long edge.

So printing on short grain paper has two effects: the first being that the paper warps in a different way, and the second being that the paper warps so badly that it jams inside the printer. It’s possible that this might be fixed by using thicker paper, but my tests haven’t worked out so far. The net result is that I can’t do a regular case binding with long grain paper printed on a laser printer.

If I have to use long grain paper when I print, then I have to use a different method of binding that doesn’t use glue on the spine.

The solution: the sewn boards binding

I adapted this from an online tutorial after reading about it on /r/Bookbinding, but the principle is still the same. The text block is sewn with an extra card leaf on either end, into which the boards that make up the book cover are glued before the actual cover is put on.

This works because the only glue that touches the text block is a thin strip where the endpaper is glued onto the last page. This post shows you how I’d usually do a case binding, with muslin and card glued onto the text block so that it can be reinforced and then attached to the cover. There’s lots of PVA glue required there! But the sewn boards binding doesn’t need it, because the cover boards are attached to the text block separately from the outer spine. They’re inserted into the card leafs so there’s no need to reinforce the spine either – it’s very, very unlikely that the covers will separate from the text block. The only downside is that I can’t really add a bookmark, but I might come up with something to figure that out later.

Here’s how I did it.

Here’s my text block. The signatures have four sheets (or bifolia) apiece, and a heavy folded piece of card stock is sewn on each end. It’s sewn with a single line of unwaxed heavy nylon upholstery thread, and the stitch is basically very fine Coptic stitch.

Now I add the boards. The boards are cut to 8.75″ x 5.5″ inches, and they’re placed 0.25″ inches away from the spine for an overhang of 0.25″ all around the text block. They’re glued inside the folded card stock.

The boards are added, and the card stock is glued down over them. You can see the overhang here.

Adding the cover paper! This is added in two pieces so I can finish the spine later. That’s my trusty glue stick in the corner of the photo, and it’s the only glue I use in this binding.

Much as I’d like to use real marbled paper, my own experiments in marbling have ended badly and I don’t have the budget to buy it. Individual sheets of good marbled paper cost upwards of CAD$15 here in Vancouver! My substitute is acid-free patterned scrapbooking paper.

I was planning to do these two with marbled endpapers, but I couldn’t find any that I liked that weren’t very expensive and also the right size. This type of binding means I don’t need a large, continuous sheet, so I can use a single sheet of 12″ x 12″ scrapbooking paper cut in half, but endpapers are still an issue. I decided to use the nice patterned paper on the outside, and plain paper for the inside.

Now I’m ready to work on the spine. I can’t use glue on the text block directly, remember – any moisture might warp the paper – so the spine is only going to be attached to the cover.

Prepping the spine means cutting a 8.75″ long piece of book board and gluing it into the center of the spine cover paper. This is some nice textured card stock to match the cover, but not quite as thick as the card used in the text block.

I’ve glued the spine card over the cover on either side. I’d rather have a darker green card for this, but I couldn’t get any with the right texture and weight.

This is the tricky part. The card stock needs to be reasonably stiff so it’ll hold up well, but it also needs to be flexible enough to allow it to be folded in and underneath the text block. I use my bookbinding awl to push it through. It’s also risky because you might get glue on the text block. I got away with it this time, but in future I’ll be sliding some wax paper around the text block to protect it first.

The finished book, just before it goes into my book press for the night. I’ve added the endpapers already but you can’t really see them here.

Next morning, I’m on to the finishing touches. I got some metal corners to add a little more protection to the cover. It’s possible to fold them in using just your fingers, but you really need a hammer to flatten them down properly.

All done! It looks pretty good. This is the first print edition of The Nameless Knight, and only the second sewn boards binding I’ve done that wasn’t for practice.

Here’s the matched set of The Meldling and The Nameless Knight! These are both special promo copies that . They’ll be sent to Angel in North Carolina, the giveaway winner, by registered post this week. If you’d like a chance to win one of my books, check out my mailing list, or keep an eye out for other giveaways on LibraryThing or Goodreads.

Major thanks to the community of /r/Bookbinding for their help, and I highly recommend you go and check them out if you’re interested in binding your own books.

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The Physics of the Cut

It is a truth universally acknowledged, by swordfighters at least, that a curved sword is superior at cutting. But why? Why should the curvature of a blade have such an effect on the effectiveness of its cut? Today I’d like to delve into the physics of swordplay, and examine why cutting swords have the form that they do.

The Premise

First and foremost, I begin from the following assumptions:

That historical swords, made for the singular purpose of life-and-death swordplay, were effective weapons.
That form follows function.

I usually start from this in all things sword-related, but it’s worth stating it again. These days, we do swordplay for leisure. We have the luxury of making/owning fanciful swords and armor suited to our preference. Back in medieval times, when a sword was a tool to be used in the defense of one’s life, I’m sure swordfighters had a different perspective! So I want to emphasize this point as much as I can: we must assume that swords were made in whatever shape they are because that was what worked at the time.

For example, if you were to imagine the kind of sword that would work best in a large, massed formation of men with heavy shields, you’d probably arrive at a gladius sooner or later. It’s short and thick (very maneuverable), has no hilt (easy to strike around a shield without getting caught on anything), and straight (good for thrusts and stabs).

This is what I mean about form following function. It stands to reason that, if a historical sword consistently displayed some particular feature, it was representative of its function in some way.

The Cutting Sword

So what does this mean for a cutting sword? Well, let’s look at some examples of curved swords.

There’s the katana, of course, as it’s the quintessential cutting sword. Then there’s the tulwar or talwar, from India; the sabre, from Europe and just about anywhere; the German langes-messer, which is used very much like a longsword; the scimitar from the Middle East; and the slightly more modern cavalry sword from various Western countries.

Having a curve means that the sword is less effective at thrust attacks (which is a subject for another day) but it doesn’t follow that being less effective at thrusting equals better at cutting. So let’s look at the mechanics of the cut itself.

The Science of a Cut

When you strike and draw with a sword, so that the blade slides across the target, you’re making a cut. This is in comparison to the thrust, where you strike with the intention of driving the point into the target instead of drawing across it. If you’re a swordfighter, you already know this and you’ve done both a thousand times.

The actual physics of a cut, at a molecular level, does not resemble cutting as you know it. The blade acts more like a wedge that opens up a fracture in the material. When the blade is drawn against a material, friction between it and the edge causes the initial tear through shearing force. More friction = more tearing = more cutting. (If you’re interested in the science, check out this paper.)

This is also the reason why sharp blades are better than dull ones. A sharper blade will concentrate the energy of the cut into a smaller area, and it generates more friction between it and the material than a dull blade.

At this point, I think it’s clear that the major factor influencing the cut is that of friction. A sword that can generate more friction between it and the target is a better cutting sword.

The Importance of the Curve

At this point, we need to ask: what generates friction? The answer, if you’ve ever taken a physics class, is movement – specifically, moving two objects against each other in opposite directions. In a sword cut, it is therefore important to make sure that our strike creates the maximum amount of movement of the blade across the target.

And here is where the curve suddenly becomes very important.

Any strike with a sword involves the edge of the sword impacting the target and doing damage. (Remember, a sword must be rigid enough to deliver its stored energy effectively, and elastic enough that it doesn’t shatter.) When you cut with a sword, the sword itself must be angled across the target in order to draw it through, which keeps the edge against the target, generates friction, and cuts it.

With any sword, you will need to angle it at the hilt in order to draw it through. What I mean by this is that the point of the sword doesn’t travel exactly in line with the hilt as you swing it; it naturally lags behind a little because it’s the most efficient way to move a big steel bar through the air. The cut consists of the swing, the impact with the target, and the draw where the cutting edge is kept in contact with the target.

Do this with a straight sword and with a curved sword, and you’ll notice two major differences:

You will need to angle the straight sword more in order to maintain the same cutting surface as a curved sword.
The draw is less effective at the end of the cut with a straight sword, because it becomes progressively harder to keep the edge against the target.

The curve increases the amount of movement of the blade across the target, and thus the amount of friction between the blade and the target. It’s possible to cut well with a straight sword, but a curved sword makes it much easier. This is why a curved sword is a better cutting sword.

The Amount of Curvature

So you may be asking yourself now – why isn’t a katana as curved as a talwar? If more curve equals a better cut, why wouldn’t all cutting swords be more curved?

Form follows function, of course. The curve is a trade-off between cutting and thrusting. The Japanese swordsmiths who created the katana did not intend it to be entirely used for cutting, though its form does lean towards that more than thrusting. The talwar, with its greater curve, leans more heavily towards cutting, and I’ve heard it mentioned that very heavily curved, single-edged swords may be used with one hand on the sword spine, in techniques involving push cuts.

In Conclusion

I hope that this has been informative and interesting, whether you’re a swordfighter or whether you’re just curious about the mechanics of swordplay. The most important thing to note is that there is no real ‘best type of sword’, in general – there’s only the most appropriate sword for your chosen technique.

It’s also worth noting that whether you prefer to cut, thrust, or a combination of both, or anything in between, you must still be able to mount an effective defense with your sword, or you won’t last long enough to know if your attacks are effective!

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The post The Physics of the Cut appeared first on Raynfall.

Who is Captain America

You know, I don’t like ranting. Sometimes it’s cathartic, but mostly it’s just venting because, once again, the world has turned out to be a crappy place that I wish would just get its shit together.

Which brings me to this new insanity: the latest Captain America comic has pulled a twist in which it turns out that Steve Rogers is a Hydra agent, has always been a Hydra agent, and he threw a supposed ally to their death.

Some background, in case this is very new to you – Steve Rogers is Captain America, a comic book character who was created by two Jewish guys way back when to fight the Nazis. His first appearance on a comic book cover showed him punching out Hitler. For decades, he has served as a symbol of justice and freedom in the Marvel universe in a way that no other character has, and he’s proven to be immensely popular in the new movies.

Captain America was always my favorite Marvel character. That’s not really saying much, considering how comics lost me a long time ago, but I’ve always thought fondly of him in a way that I never did about, say, Spider-man. You see, Captain America was something more than a superhero. The goofy, overly-patriotic name aside, the character of Captain America was always distinguished by what made him exceptional.

Superhero characters are, by and large, made exceptional by their powers. Superman is exceptional because he’s an alien with strength, speed, and all that. Batman is exceptional because he has access to gadgetry and he’s a great hand-to-hand fighter. Spider-man has his spider-like powers, the X-Men have their mutant abilities, Wonder Woman is the daughter of a god. They stand out because of what they have that ordinary people will never have; to a large extent, they are defined by their powers, such that the removal of those powers is a Major Issue(tm).

But Captain America is something different. His powers – strength, endurance, the whole super-soldier schtick – are almost an after-thought. He is exceptional, and someone greater than those around him, because he holds the deepest and most powerful conviction of truth, justice and freedom above all. He believes it in a way that almost no other superheroes do, and he lives and breathes it every day. He is always true to his ideals, even when no one’s watching, even when it doesn’t matter – and he himself still thinks that he’s just a man, that he’s not unique or unusual. Not for nothing do many superheroes carry weapons, and he alone carries a shield.

You can’t imagine Steve doing something as mundane as making a tasteless joke.

The thing about Captain America is that he’s aspirational in a way that no other superhero is. We can dream about being able to fly, but it’ll never happen. But being Captain America… that’s possible. That’s something to strive for. He makes you think that you could be that hero, that believing in truth, justice and freedom is worthwhile. The world doesn’t need even one Superman, but it would be immeasurably improved if people tried to be just a little bit like Captain America.

That’s who he is. That’s the character, the symbol, the man, that has come to mean a lot to many people over the last sixty years. That’s sixty years of stories, of a man who said this:

Doesn’t matter what the press says. Doesn’t matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn’t matter if the whole country says that something wrong is something right.

This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world–

“No, you move”.

Now, consider this…

The latest idiotic clickbaity bullshit to come out of Marvel has effectively retconned Captain America to him always being a Hydra agent (i.e. a member of the Marvel Universe’s stand-ins for the fucking Nazis) playing a long con or something. They wrote a story where he threw someone to their death. They made him a bad guy.

Times like these, I’m glad I never got into comics, because this is the most egregious, cynical betrayal of a fanbase for the sake of sales that I’ve seen in at least a year. A fanbase that has been built over decades, for gods’ sake; a fanbase that has a deep and emotional connection to Captain America because he is human, and like us, in a way that Superman never will be. I can’t even call it bullshit. That’s not strong enough of a word.

I mean, there’s everything about it that I personally find offensive, and then there’s the absolute fucking INSANITY of taking a character that was created by a pair of Jewish guys as a reaction to the Nazis, who was created and exemplified by his opposition to the injustice and genocide committed during the Holocaust, and having that character secretly be a pseudo-Nazi. I literally can’t even parse why anyone would think that that was a good idea, unless they’re the most tone-deaf dipshit this side of Jupiter.

But Marvel did it. Quoth the writer:

This is not a clone, not an imposter, not mind control, not someone else acting through Steve. This really is Steve Rogers, Captain America himself.

I can’t even… You know not what you do. I say this as a writer, above all else: we strive to forge that emotional connection between story and reader, to have them feel with the character. It is not to be taken lightly. It is not to be used cheaply, for sensationalism, to generate buzz or to sell more comics. To treat it with anything less than the highest care is be deserving of the inevitable backlash.

I have not the slightest hope that those involved with this particular comic will learn anything from the negative reactions to their badly-thought-out dumbfuckery, but I stand in solidarity with the people hurt by this. I pledge that I will be better in my own writing.

It’s the kind of thing that Cap would have wanted.

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The post Who is Captain America appeared first on Raynfall.

The Tower of Joy Fight

So I got talking to one of my swordfighting buddies about two-weapon fighting again, and he mentioned that the latest episode of A Game of Thrones had some pretty silly swinging going on in a fight at some place called the Tower of Joy. Of course, I had to go and look this up for myself, and I believe it’s rather silly in many places, but it has some redeeming qualities.

Let’s take a look. As always, I have almost no idea what’s happening in the plot or why. (I have been wondering why such a miserable pile of rock is called the Tower of Joy, but by and large, I don’t care enough to find out.)

Link, because YouTube’s being a butt and embedding is disabled.

The action starts around the two minute mark. One thing that immediately jumps out at me is, once again, it’s a fight with spectators just hanging around and looking concerned or passive while a couple of people with swords go at each other.

Apparently the old guy and the kid are not really there, or something, so maybe we’ll give them a pass on this one.

Thing the first: while it’s nice to see a massed battle, I am quite disappointed in the fact that only two of these men were sensible enough to wear helmets, and no one decided to bring, say, a pike or a spear.

Thing the second: two other men brought shields. This is great! However, they seem to have gotten their ideas about shields from Hollywood, which means they swing the shields back behind themselves when they strike with their swords, as if they need a counterbalance or something. (Hint: they don’t need a counterbalance.) This inevitably results in them getting stabbed because that is not how you do shields, for gods’ sake. Shields go in front of you. This is not rocket science.

Thing the third: Two of these guys got sliced in the neck and killed. Have they never heard of gorgets?! Why does almost no one in this series pay attention to their necks? There’s enough plate armor in A Game of Thrones that someone, someone, must have noticed this. It’s a hideous oversight that’s bugging me more and more.

Thing the fourth: Once again, the armor looks like it’s been rubbed down with excrement and the plate looks rusted. In fact, everyone looks like they rolled in a mudhole before coming on the set. I don’t even know what to say about that any more.

Thing the fifth: I’ve been told that the sword that one of the knights sticks into the ground at the start is supposed to be a greatsword, and I am side-eyeing the hell out of that particular factoid. It looks like a longsword. It’s about the right length, in the blade and hilt, to be a longsword. The knight wields it like a longsword. The only greatswords I know of are two-handed weapons and quite a bit bigger than that, so make of it what you will.

Thing the final: the ‘dual-wielding’. Oh boy. Where to start? The knight whirls the swords around well enough, but the first major no-no happens when he hits with both swords on the same line at the same time. This is stupid because it leaves him defenseless and it’s no better than hitting with one sword.

He stands in the middle of a group of armed men and holds his swords out on either side. As soon as I saw this, I groaned. This is not a thing that any swordfighter would do. Like… you don’t just stand here, and, again, you do not turn your defenseless back to an opponent. Ever! This is the kind of move that you’d do with guns in a Hollywood movie that would also be pretty dumb because you’d get shot almost instantly.

From this point on, the whole fight against multiple opponents is ballet. It’s highly choreographed, choppy, spinning fakery that I basically didn’t watch because it’s boring. It’s unfortunately really obvious to me (now, anyway) when I see a swordfight in TV or film and the fighters are just baseball-batting it and not actually trying to hit each other. Once we get back to Knightman vs. Scraggly Ginger Guy, things get a little more interesting, but I’m still immensely bothered by the fact that both of them are seriously half-assing their defense.

This is a major and ubiquitous problem with swordfights on the screen. Actors know how to act, but they don’t know jack shit about swordplay unless they’ve been well-trained in it. They know there’s no real danger, and every swing has been planned, and it shows so blatantly that I wonder if anyone’s even pointed it out to them. Directors have a similar problem in that almost every fight turns into big flashy, jump-cut nonsense that is difficult to watch at best, and mind-numbing, plot-irrelevant filler at worst.

(Seeing as I don’t actually know the plot here, I’ll be generous and allow that this particular fight at the Tower of Joy is just hard to watch. Presumably it’s relevant to the plot in some way, but it looks like most other fights in A Game of Thrones – lots of stabbing, lots of blood, almost everyone dies, choppy editing to hide the fact that there is waaaay too much baseball-bat-swinging going on, and reaction shots from whoever is the bystander-du-jour.)

Not gonna lie, I look at fights like these and compare them to the duel between Inigo Montoya and the Man in Black, and I give a sigh of despair. No, the comparison is not fair, and it never will be. But The Princess Bride is a measure of how good swordplay in film and TV can be, and this fight is nothing more than a measure of how mediocre and forgettable it can be.

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The post The Tower of Joy Fight appeared first on Raynfall.

A few things you probably didn’t know about archery

So, I went back to the range on Sunday, and had a lovely time putting sharp pointy things into a crappy target made out of masking tape. My groupings are getting better, thank you for asking. But it got me thinking about the stuff that people don’t know about archery, whether because they watch too many movies, or because they haven’t yet discovered this most interesting and rewarding of martial arts.

Of course, now I must tell you all about them, these thoughts of mine.

You don’t draw the bow with your arms.

Does that sound odd? It’s absolutely true, you see. Your arms brace the bow, and the fact that your hands are on the end of them is convenient for holding it (obviously) but it’s not your arms doing the actual work. It’s all in your back and shoulders. The big trapezius and rhomboid muscles between your shoulder blades take the brunt of the force needed to draw and hold the bow, and that’s the first place you’ll feel the strain when you’re shooting for a while.

It takes a hell of a lot of strength.

I’ve mentioned this before, and it’s worth repeating. Drawing and shooting a bow, especially if you’re going to hold it at full draw and aim, requires a lot more strength than just swinging a sword. I can pick up a greatsword, which is almost as tall as me, and start using it straight away; I might tire pretty quick, but I’m easily capable of a few swings. But I can barely draw a 40lb bow at all, and anything heavier is simply beyond me. The average man can’t draw a warbow, which starts at 100lbs and justs go up from there.

For reference, that’s 100lbs of force on a small subset of muscles, braced by a bent arm, and held by three fingers on the bowstring. There’s a good reason why archers need to work on strength training and gradually increase the weight of their bows.

You do not ‘fire’ a bow.

This is a Hollywood thing, and it always makes me laugh. You fire a gun. You do not fire a bow, unless you actually set it on fire. You can shoot a bow, of course, but if someone was giving the command to shoot way back in medieval times, you can bet they didn’t shout ‘FIRE!’ like they do in the movies. ‘Release’ was more likely.

They used feathers because they could collapse.

Okay, I just learned this recently, and it totally blew my mind. Why feathers, for the fletching? Arrows need to have fletching to stabilize them in flight, right, and it made sense to use feathers because they’re light and plentiful. But you have to ask yourself – why didn’t they experiment with other materials? Modern arrows, like the ones I use, have plastic vanes instead of feathers.

Guys – it’s because feathers can collapse. When the medieval archer shot their arrow, the fletching needed to be able to flatten as it passed the side of the bow itself, and then spring back into shape to stabilize the arrow. Feathers do that! My modern arrows, with their non-collapsing vanes, are only okay to use with my bow because my bow is a modern recurve with an arrow rest that can flatten when the arrow passes over it. If I ever swap to a traditional bow, I’ll have to change all my arrows or I won’t be able to shoot straight.

If you don’t think that’s the coolest shit ever, I don’t want to know you.

You anchor the arrow to your face.

The secret to aiming and shooting accurately is really all about muscle memory and being consistent, and the one thing that helps you to be consistent is to pick an anchor. The anchor is the place to which you draw the bowstring, with the end of the arrow nocked to it, just before you release. Usually, it means touching part of your draw hand to part of your face in the same place every time. For example, I draw with my left hand, and my anchor is when I touch the side of my chin with my thumb, and the bowstring touches my cheek.

Hitting yourself in the face with the bowstring is normal.

Further to the point about anchors… everyone knows you need to be careful not to slap the inside of your forearm with the bowstring. Not everyone knows that you also need to be careful not to hit your own face. You can do this if your anchor isn’t right. I know because I managed to slap myself in the nose twice, just because I turned my head a little just as I loosed the arrow.

Well, I hope this has been both informative and encouraging. Archery is just such a fun, intellectual, and engaging pasttime that I highly recommend you try it out if you haven’t done already. Even though it’s demanding on the body, it really is for everyone, especially if you pick up a modern compound bow with all the doohickeys that make it easier to shoot.

Shoutout to Lykopis Archery – I gotta get my ass over there for a few more lessons one of these days!

Related Posts:

Strength Versus Dexterity in Roleplaying Games
Moving up on archery
More Archery at the Burnaby Range
Archery at Burnaby!
Beginning Archery

The post A few things you probably didn’t know about archery appeared first on Raynfall.

Washed Out and Fed Up

I admit to being jaded sometimes, and it’s not without reason – see all my previous posts on popular media, for example. So call this the latest in a long, stupid string of failures which has most certainly ceased to surprise me.

Hollywood has a problem with non-Caucasians playing any kind of role that isn’t a racist stereotype, and ESPECIALLY with non-Caucasians playing a lead role.

The denizens of Twitter have taken issue with this asshattery, which resulted in the #WhiteWashedOut tag – and I highly, highly recommend that you read it if you’re concerned at all about racism (let’s call it what it is) in popular film.

Full disclosure: I really like Tilda Swinton and Scarlet Johannson. I was the one arguing that Johannson had serious acting chops back when everyone was calling The Island a crap movie and dismissing her as yet another forgettable starlet. If Marvel ever pull their head out of their ass long enough to make a Black Widow movie, I will be at the head of the queue for tickets.

But. BUT.

She is not ever, not for a fucking SECOND, Major Motoko Kusanagi.

Ghost in the Shell was my first introduction to anime, and to the concept that cartoons could deal with adult themes. It also blew me away completely on a visual level; there was and is nothing quite like it, even now. To this day, the scene of Kusanagi going hand to hand against a mook in knee high water while completely naked and using stealth camo built into her skin is just thrilling to me, on so many levels.

I had never seen that before: a woman who uses her nakedness as an advantage in combat, and in doing so, completely outclasses her opponent. There is a level of powerful representation there that stuck with me, and still does.

If someone decided to remake Ghost in the Shell while gender-flipping Kusanagi, I would rightfully lose my goddamn shit because it’s insulting to the character, to the story, and to everything that GITS represents to me.

So when Asian writers and actors kick back against this idiocy with #WhiteWashedOut, don’t you dare fucking say that they’re overreacting or that the story is for everyone or any number of stupid, shitty things I’ve heard on Twitter just today alone. Scarlet Johannson CANNOT be Kusanagi. She cannot take up the mantle of who and what the Major is without betraying the fundamental heart of the character. This action, of casting white actors and actresses in Asian roles, is asinine already, but it’s far worse when they take roles that are nothing short of iconic and push out the people who SHOULD be playing them because of some assholish idea of what will sell to a white audience.

This is an industry that’s proved many, many, MANY times that it doesn’t have a fucking clue what’s going to sell. It didn’t predict the success of Brokeback Mountain, for gods’ sake, and it didn’t make more films like it when it did turn into a hit. I have neither the time nor the patience for this shit and I will have none of it.

I will not go to see this remake, this travesty, of one of the greatest artworks ever produced by Japan. I am not about to pay money to see something I love get shit upon. This is the only appropriate response to whitewashing, and if you care about this, you’ll do the same. In conclusion, the photo for this article is of the actress who should have gotten the role, in my opinion – Rinko Kikuchi, who was so awesome in Pacific Rim I still can’t handle it.

Needless to say, I’m not going anywhere near the Dr. Strange movie.

Related Posts:

On White Feminists and Womanism
Why I’m Not Going to See Man of Steel
Racism in Writing
Hollywood Sexism
Review: Captain America – The First Avenger

The post Washed Out and Fed Up appeared first on Raynfall.

5 Reasons Why Katanas are Stupid

You heard me right.

First of all, what is the katana? It’s a traditional Japanese sword, characterized by a curved, single-edged blade, a short guard that can be round or square, and a hilt that can accommodate two hands. Due to some incredibly good marketing, there are legions of idiots out there with stupid ideas about katanas.

Now, dear friends, is the time to whack them upside the head with some knowledge. The truth is, katanas are stupid.

1. They were made from crap materials

So here’s the thing: the Japanese bladesmiths were very, very good at making swords. They had to be, because the raw ore they had to work with was limited and the quality wasn’t great. Europe was relatively spoiled in its availability of good iron, but over in Japan, they had to really scrape the stuff together. So the Japanese had to make do with what was available, and the end result is tamahagane, or jewel steel.

The long and short of it is that katanas themselves are made from the best steel the Japanese could produce from really bad raw materials. The well-known process of folding the metal to increase the strength of the blade was just part of what they had to do to draw out impurities; it wasn’t some mystical technique known only to master bladesmiths. (The Vikings were pattern-welding their blades for extra strength centuries earlier.) The end result was a fine sword made from some of the purest steel in the ancient world, but the whole process was long and backbreaking.

Why is this stupid, you may ask? Well, in the 16th century, the Portuguese and Dutch got to Japan. Just when the Japanese were on the verge of getting their hands on all the European iron they could eat, the shogunate decided to kick out all the foreigners and get into xenophobia in a big way for the next 250 years.

2.They were designed to cut, and not much else

The katana is not an all-round weapon. It’s probably the ur-example of a cutting sword, in fact. The katana is a curved, fat blade with a viciously keen single edge, used with two hands, and there’s a high preference for the draw-and-cut. It’s also a short weapon, only 25 inches on average. Yes, you can thrust with it, but it’s really not designed for it. It’s designed for fast cutting work.

This is stupid because it’s a one-trick pony that just isn’t all that useful on a battlefield. Bows, spears and later matchlocks were the primary weapons of the samurai in battle, not katanas – like many swords, they were the weapon of last resort, not first. They were and are a very expensive status symbol.

3. They weren’t good at parrying or blocking

So here’s the thing – a sword that takes an age to forge and sharpen and polish isn’t something you want to damage. Combat means damage. Blocking means damage. Parrying means damage. And that immensely sharp edge is somewhat brittle.

Europeans had enough iron and steel to not care too much about their swords when they took a beating. The Japanese had no such luxury. A cutting sword isn’t great at blocking or parrying anyway, because its one great advantage – a deep draw cut – is compromised by nicks to the cutting edge.

This is stupid because of the same problem of it being a one-trick pony. It’s a sword that is super good at one specific thing, and really mediocre in comparison to many other swords at other really vital things, like defensive actions.

4. They couldn’t cut through absolutely anything

There are far, far too many myths about katanas, and the one that pops up most frequently is that a katana is some mystical blade that can chop a tank in two, or cut through plate armor.

Yes, a sharp cutting sword is good at cutting stuff. Don’t tell me that surprises you. But they’re still physical objects that can’t break the laws of physics at will by slicing through steel plate armor like it’s butter. A katana can’t even slice through mail, for gods’ sake. That’s the kind of stuff that happens in anime, not in real life.

Katanas were tested on cadavers – naked cadavers. They sliced through them pretty well, and there are some historical swords that apparently cut through five bodies at once. But those tests were expensive, and the point of them was to increase the value of the sword. I’m not sure why anyone takes them as absolute truth.

5. Their fanboys are idiots

There’s no other way to say this: there is a strain of toxic fanboyism out there that insists that katanas were perfect, elegant killing tools wielded by master swordsmen, and European swords were big, blunt ugly choppers that any idiot could wave around. Said strain of fanboyism also insists that a katana versus a longsword would inevitably result in a win for the katana.

I can’t roll my eyes hard enough, seriously. I’m a big believer in the idea of form following necessity and feasibility when it comes to swords and swordplay, and never is this more apparent in the evolution of European martial arts. The concept that all European swords can be reduced to heavy, badly-made, mass-produced lumps, more akin to a steel bar than an actual weapon of war, is offensive. It actually bothers me that people seem to think that it’s totally plausible for a whole continent of nations to make war on each other (and anyone they met) for hundreds of years, but somehow no one ever came up with a design for a good sword.

I’m saying this a lot, but it is So. Goddamn. Stupid.

I know longswords, and if I had to take bets on the average katana-wielder versus the average longsword-wielder, I’d bet on the longsword every time, and here’s why.

A katana loses viability against armor of any kind, because its big advantage – deep cuts – is negated pretty effectively by metal armor.
A katana is too specialized; it lacks a level of defensive ability because its design is so hyper-focused on cuts.
A katana is good at fast, close moves, but this means it lacks reach.
A longsword has a whole selection of techniques for getting an armored opponent on the ground.
A longsword is a great all-round weapon – you can cut, thrust, defend, and attack in many different ways. It doesn’t excel in any particular field, but it doesn’t need to. Its big advantage is flexibility.
A longsword is… long. The average katana blade is 23-28 inches. For comparison, my longsword’s blade is 38 inches. That extra reach isn’t trivial in combat, especially when the counter to it – getting inside the longsword’s close measure – means you’ll get grappled and bashed in the face with the pommel.

Do I think the longsword is the best weapon ever? No. I just think it’s a pretty good bet against a katana. Let’s be honest here, if we’re talking one-on-one duels, a samurai with a katana and a knight with a longsword are both going to get their asses kicked by the same person – someone who had the foresight to bring a sword heavily designed for dueling to the fight, i.e. a rapier.

In conclusion

Katanas are stupid.

Okay, okay – they’re pretty good swords, and many ancient katanas are works of art. We also have the benefit of hundreds of years worth of records of Japanese weaponsmithing and swordfighting, which Europeans certainly didn’t do to the same degree. But the level of asshattery that’s grown up around katanas is stupid, so much so that it’s almost hard to appreciate them without being tainted by it.

In short, I am on Team Longsword and I regret nothing.

Related Posts:

Strength Versus Dexterity in Roleplaying Games
Let’s Talk about the Bind
The Swordmaster Trope
Let’s talk about sword weight!
On plate armour, movement, and fighting with longswords

The post 5 Reasons Why Katanas are Stupid appeared first on Raynfall.

Brienne of Tarth versus The Hound

So, Season 6 of Game of Thrones has debuted, and everyone is predictably losing their marbles over it. Except for me, of course. My lack of interest in grimdark fantasy continues, and with it, my lack of interest in following along with Game of Horrible-Things-Happen-To-Everyone-And-Everything-Sucks-Balls.

However! I still like to see the fights, because they’re all about the swords and medieval armor, and that is totally my bag, baby. One character who I’m rather drawn to is Brienne of Tarth, who seems to be the only one sensible enough to wear greaves (even though she’s still apparently in the ‘no helmets’ camp). I still don’t know anything about what her character does or what her deal is in the series, but hey, she’s got the armor I’d go to war in, so I’m on her side regardless.

Let’s look at one of her fights, against this guy called The Hound. I gather he’s a bad guy of some kind. I’m watching the clips on YouTube with the sound off, so I like to imagine that they’re fighting over who has to clean their armor.

Watch it on YouTube here; I can’t find an embed-able video for some reason.

One thing I find interesting about this fight is that they don’t try to get too fancy with the swordwork. It’s really easy to fall into this trap of whacking each other’s swords with the typical flailing-baseball-bat style that no one who’s ever wielded a sword believes. This fight avoids that with choppy camera work that effectively hides the fact that the actors aren’t trying to kill each other, and grants some illusion of the fight being faster than it really is.

Frankly, I’m not a fan of choppy camera work, but it’s better than watching two fighters in armor half-assing their way through a stylized version of real swordplay, so I’ll take what I can get.

Two things jump out at me, unfortunately:

The incident at the very start of the fight, where Brienne stops the Hound’s sword and they stare at each other for a moment with their blades held up against each other. Please note: this is not a thing. This has NEVER been a thing in swordplay. Binds don’t work that way. Swords don’t work that way, for gods’ sake. It’s purely a dramatic device, and it’s an incredibly stupid one. A swordfighter who tries that is almost asking to get disarmed and disemboweled.
Partway through the fight, Brienne does this silly little twirl move. For the record, people, you DO NOT turn your back on an opponent in combat like this unless you’re (a) not alone and someone is covering you, or (b) a giant idiot who’s about to get stabbed through the spine. Longsword fencing against a single opponent when you have no backup is not the time to get into ballet. The spin is ostensibly a result of carrying through on a blow instead of trying to reverse the sword’s direction to strike again. But, and this is important, it’s faster and easier to spin the sword instead of your whole body.

All in all, I give this one a thumbs up, mostly because they get away from swinging swords. Choreography with fisticuffs, and Brienne beating the Hound’s head in with a rock, is probably easier to pull off than swordplay and more in keeping with the general horribleness of Game of Thrones. It doesn’t make me want to actually watch Game of Thrones – that’s not likely unless they replace half the cast with bunny rabbits – but it’s pretty cool nonetheless.

Plus that punch to the balls was neat. Maybe that’ll encourage the men of Game of Thrones to start wearing codpieces.

Related Posts:

The Lack of Fantasy TV
Longswords and James Bond
Strength Versus Dexterity in Roleplaying Games

Take Sword, Add Protrusions