A. Lee Martinez's Blog, page 58

Get Real (or Don't)

It's starting to cheese me off (excuse my language) that so many writers and creators will resort to the Realism Defense when it suits their purposes and ignore it when it doesn't.  Maybe that's just Terran nature.  And most of the time, it's harmless.  But when it comes to important things, it's generally a cop out.

The new Batman video game, for example, has swearing and harsh language in it.  In particular, many people have raised concerns that when playing as Catwoman, you are subject to constant unpleasant language and mild threats of rape by the thugs she runs across.

The hardcore gamers dismiss these concerns as silly because having thugs and henchmen be obnoxious and threatening is "realistic".  There might be something to that, too.  If this wasn't a game built upon pretending to be a billionaire dressed as a bat who spends his nights fighting criminals dressed as clowns and Alice in Wonderland characters.  If the Batman's universe was realistic, then he'd either be shot in the back one random night or be so beat up and burnt out from his double life that he'd be a broken wreck.

Superheroes have always struggled with the fantastic and the realistic.  Batman has struggled the most.  Probably because so many of his fans seem to think he's more "realistic" than other heroes.  I'm not going to get into that fallacy here.  I've wasted too many precious hours on that debate.  Regardless of where you stand on that debate, few people would want to read the Batman story where he trips on his cape and plummets to his death while on patrol, realistic as that possibility might be.

Realistically, Bruce Wayne could choke to death on a piece of pie.

I'm not interested in reading the story (or playing the video game) where ensuring Bruce Wayne chews his food properly is the key plot point.  But if you're going to pull out the "realism" argument, then you can't just stop where it suits your needs.

Given his status as Gotham's wealthiest citizen and the obvious fact that Batman needs to have major funding to do what he does, it seems strange that no one has ever connected Wayne and his alter ego.  Or that a man with a prominent face can hide it behind half a mask and not still be recognized.  Or that a single man could have the time and ability to master every esoteric field of study, ranging from acrobatics to chemistry to art history.

And let's not even get into his bad guys.  A guy with white skin and a hideous grimace who dresses in purple tuxedos.  A man with half his face burnt off.  A pulp style immortal evil mastermind who wants to wipe out the human race.  A crocodile man.  A shapeshifter.  A plant woman.

Realism and Batman are not friends.

This is not to say that a writer needs to throw realism completely out the window.  But when an unnecessary element of realism is introduced for no good reason, realism is not a defense.  It's the same sort of half-logic that causes some folks to complain that children NPCs can't die in Skyrim and that this fact "ruins the immersion".

Oh, I'm sorry.  I didn't realize that in the game where you pretend to be a dragonslaying badass who can throw fireballs and slay giants that NOT having roasting children would break the illusion.

OR

Dopey me.  I kind of assumed that if you were going to play Catwoman in a video game, you might get tired of being called a bitch a thousand and one times.  But, no, that's REALISM.  Thanks for clearing that up.

To be perfectly clear, I don't care if a Batman video game has (justified or not) hostility towards women.  And I don't care if Catwoman slinks around in a sexy costume and uses kisses to disarm her opponents.  Okay, that's a lie.  I do care.  I'll go on record as saying a Batman game shouldn't have these things in it.  Certainly shouldn't have them casually strewn about.  But that's just one guy's opinion, and if I don't like the game, I don't have to play it.

But on the other end, you can't just say "It's realistic" and not expect me to roll my eyes a bit.  If your best justification for something unpleasant in a Batman story or video game is that it serves realism then I feel like you've already lost the debate.

Did I mention he fights a guy who has a freeze ray?

Realism in this context always seems to mean something other than realism.  It means a pocket of realism in an otherwise unrealistic realm.  And more often than not, that realism is aimed at shock value and "mature" content for its own sake.  So let's just call it what it so often is.

Pandering.

I'll stick with Skylanders myself.  Not only is it apologetically unrealistic, it's also a game where its female characters (though too few) are not subject to dopey fetishism or "justified" sexism.  Stealth Elf is Catwoman without the baggage (and with the ability to vanish, leaving razor scarecrows in her place).  And Hex doesn't slink around in a catsuit with a whip and wrap her legs around her foes like some softcore pornstar.  She fires shadowbolts and rains screaming skulls from the sky.  And she does it with style.

And really, I'm just glad to have female characters who are treated with respect.  Though apparently they have to hang out with dragons and boomerang throwing dinosaurs to get it.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Ten Questions

Hello, everybody.  Today, because I couldn't think of anything better to write about, I thought I'd take the time to answer a few questions from you, my adoring public.  Let's stop wasting time and get to it.

 

BigHeath2099 on Twitter asks:

If fruit & veggies became sentient & began to overthrow the earth, who would be the leaders among them?

First of all, I think the question is less an IF and more a WHEN.  I'm sure it's only a matter of time before a nuclear accident creates a race of supervegetables and megafruits that will declare war on the human race.  In fact, this was my college thesis.  Or it would've been if I'd gone to college.

My own research has indicated that while the aforementioned megafruits will be more physically dangerous (especially the oranges and pineapples, who are sure to evolve superdense rinds), they will only be as smart as a somewhat intelligent dog.  I won't get into the science of it, but trust me on this.  Genetically, fruits just will never get much smarter than a chimp.  And even that only applies to the plums, who are obviously the least dangerous of fruits.

The leaders class will be found in the vegetables.  Celery will be the most intelligent of the vegetable overlords, but it will also lack the determination and strength of will to lead.  Carrots, in contrast, are ruthless and dangerous, but also, too vulnerable to sunlight.  Sure, they won't burst into flame upon exposure to daylight like the mutant potatoes, but they'll still be too frightened of the sun to be of much threat.  The cabbage and kale will be too effete, and let's not even get into the savage tribes of broccoli, too brutal and ruthless to be trusted by the others.

Clearly, this leaves only the radishes.  They'll possess both the cunning and military adaptability to lead the army of supervegetables into battle.  If they can find a way to tame the flying bananas, then Mighty Robot King help us all.

 

MEVC3 on Twitter asks:

How did you come up with totally brilliant idea for a raccoon god?

If I could tell you where brilliant ideas came from, I'd be more famous than I am now.  Lucky the raccoon god (from my novel Divine Misfortune as I'm sure everyone knows) just sort of happened.  I needed a cute little animal, and raccoon seemed to fit the bill.

While I wouldn't consider myself a raccoon afficianado, I have toyed with the idea more than once.  I created a raccoon character for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles role-playing game (though I never got to use him).  I started a novel with a raccoon cop in it.  Which is sort of where Sanchez, the mutant opossum cop from The Automatic Detective came from.  And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Rocket Raccoon, the space raccoon adventurer of Marvel Comics.

Basically, I like taking unusual animals and putting them in my stories.  Whether it's ghost dogs, demonic ducks, or giant centipedes (in the upcoming Emperor Mollusk Versus The Sinister Brain), it's just something I do.  I don't always know why, but I don't fight it.

 

Dirksade on Twitter asks:

As an author, what is your opinion on the Internet Blacklist Bill that is working it's way through Congress?

I think piracy, as a problem, is a bit overblown.  I get the concerns from artists and publishers, all who make their living off of people buying books / movies / etc.  But part of this concern seems a touch antiquated in this modern electronic age.

The fact is media is more and more ethereal, less physical.  And without hardcopies to transport and protect, media theft isn't quite the crime it once was.  If someone were to hijack a truckload of books or DVDs, then those books and DVDs represent more than just a loss of profit, they represent a loss of investment on the publisher's part.  Not just the physical product and the time to create it, but the money and energy to transport it.  If you take something like that, you aren't just stealing a creative expression, you're stealing a limited physical commodity.

Stealing on the internet is different.  If someone pirates my books (and people have) and posts an illegal electronic version of it, they are stealing.  But they aren't stealing a limited commodity.  E-books are part of a post-scarcity society.  They basically exist in unlimited quantity.  And unlimited changes the value to some degree.

Don't get me wrong.  I'd rather no one pirate my books.  If you tell me you downloaded an illegal copy of one of my books, I'm not going to congratulate you on your savy.  Neither will I accuse you of being a terrible criminal who has sabotaged my career.

Basically, I'm pro internet freedom, even if it costs me something now and then.  And I'm against any attempt, well-intentioned or not, to limit that freedom to protect the rights of publishers.

And, really, has a blacklist ever been a good idea?

 

My real life friend, Shawn Scarber, asks on Facebook:

What is best in life?

As much as I make it a policy not to disagree with Conan the Barbarian, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say, the best thing in life is the act of discovery.  There's something awesome about seeing the world, the universe, yourself, etc. in a whole new light, in glimpsing something fantastic, in that eureka moment that changes things, even if only in the smallest way.

It's a universal moment of joy, whether found in the studying of science or our own personal revelations.  Without it, I'm not sure I see the point in living at all.

 

Jeff Glaze on Facebook:

What is the greatest source of inspiration for your stories, and who is YOUR favorite author?

These are two questions, but I will let it slide.

This is among the most common questions I get asked, and I hate that I don't have a better answer for it.  I can't point to any single source of inspiration.  Inspiration is where you find it.  My list of influences is long and varied, though mostly it's found in comic book superheroes, cartoons, video games, monster movies, and so on and so on and so on.

If I had a single "greatest" influence, I'd probably be a one-dimensional imitator.  So I won't pick any single influence, and just leave it at that.

As for my own favorite writer, there are a lot of contenders.  My first instinct is to go with Edgar Rice Burroughs, who created some of my favorite characters and stories.  Or I could go with Walt Simonson, who wrote the most epic superhero comic book ever.  I've also become a big fan of Brian Clevinger.  If you haven't caught his work on Atomic Robo yet, you're really missing out.

 

DRyanLeask on Twitter asks:

How did you find the time to write your first novel, and how did you ever get anyone to read it?

Two questions again, but well worth asking.  Writing isn't easy.  Especially because the universe doesn't give a damn about your plans and aspirations.  More than talent, desire, and ability, time is the aspiring writer's biggest problem.  Namely, finding it.

I was lucky enough that I was supported for much of my early aspiring writer career, so time wasn't nearly as difficult for me to grab as most others.  But the thing about writing is that you have to find a way to make it work for you.  If you can write twenty minutes a week, go for it.  If you can write only for an hour every other Tuesday, then that's cool too.  Find the time, wherever it is, and use it.  Even if you can only write one paragraph at a time, eventually, you'll get there.

Now getting someone to read it, that's something I can't pin down.  You have to submit.  Submit.  Submit.  Submit.  You aren't looking for the ONE person who will read your book.  You're looking for ANY person who will read your book.  Most of those people won't want to actually publish your book or represent you, but that's just the way it goes.

This is where I think a lot of aspiring writers fall short.  They fail to understand that the submission process is long, difficult, and discouraging.  It's frustrating because you will get turned away a heck of a lot.  But you have to hang in there, keep looking for opportunities, and submitting to anyone and everyone.

Above all, stick with it.  The difference between the writer who makes it and the one who doesn't, more often than not, isn't talent.  It's persistence.

 

Ozarkee on Twitter asks:

Seamus had a bushy red beard. As a female, he was not explicitly described without it. So, do female goblins have beards?

The question someone dared to ask!  We were all thinking it, sure, but no one had the guts to inquire.

What's funny is that when I get questions like this, I don't always know the answer to it.  Though I'm not beyond some worldbuilding, I'm less concerned with the background of a story and more often concerned with the characters and their trials.  But as it turns out, I do actually have the answer for this one.

Goblins in the In the Company of Ogres universe don't have beards.  Both genders are hairless.  Seamus is an exception because he is part leprechaun.  Female leprechauns don't have beards though, so neither does Seamus have it in female form.

Hope that helps you sleep at night.

 

And finally, Wayne Arthurson on Facebook asks:

Ten questions about anything?

Not quite about anything, but close enough.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Beware the Hypno-Hustler

DC Comics rebooted their entire recently.  While I can say I haven't cared for any of the new titles for a lot of reasons, I'd like to go ahead and comment instead on the seemingly least important element of the reboot:  The redesign of various costumed characters and move on from there.

Jim Lee is a fabulous artist who was in charge of the redesign.  And that's the problem.  Because he's failed on one of the most important elements of a shared universe.  Namely, it should be populated by characters that are easy to draw.

I've written before on the underrated nature of simplicity, of avoiding making things complex for complexity's sake.  And comic book superheroes are perhaps one of the best examples of this.  Most established superheroes of any staying power have extremely simple designs, both in terms of character motivations, background, and physical appearance.  This isn't just to make them distinctive in their original medium.  It's also practical because most superheroes are passed from writer to writer, artist to artist, regularly.  In addition, ongoing comic book titles try to stick to a regular publishing schedule and simple character designs are easier and faster to write stories for and draw than complicated ones.

There's a reason Superman wears two primary colors.  And his spandex costume looks painted on.  No stitching.  No extraneous lines.  Just a human body wrapped in blue and red with a big S on his chest and a long red cape.  It is a design that has worked for decades, and not by accident.

The new designs, both in terms of characters and physical appearance, are far too busy.

Batman is a guy who saw his parents murdered, then grew up to dedicate himself to fighting crime.  Anything more than that is subject to writer's interpretation, and that's what makes him work.  Frank Miller might decide Batman is a raging jerkwad while Denny O'Neal can portray him as a detective in a mask and so on and so on.  The basic framework of the character leaves him flexible enough for any competent writer (and artist) to work with.

It's a weird thing for me (an artist) to say, but shared characters and universes should always be more important than the writers and artists who work on them.  And where I feel that both DC and Marvel have stumbled in recent years is by being more enamored of their creative staff than their product.  Yes, I'm proposing that comic books are not selling because they're not commercial, because they are being written by ascended fans now who have forgotten that they are not supposed to just be writing the superhero stories they wanted to see growing up.

Even writing that seems wrong.  I used to believe that if an artist created works they were passionate about, everything else would come in due time.  I still believe that, mostly.  However, there is the possibility that you are creating a story that just doesn't have enough mainstream appeal to reach a wider audience.  And I fear comic book superheroes are at that point.

When you have creators who live in backstory, who know every little detail of the history of the Green Lantern Corps and want to put it all in there, you run the risk of locking out everyone who doesn't share your passion.  And when you create costume designs festooned with lines and dozens of needless accessories, you definitely make the job of every artist after you a hell of a lot harder.

The DC reboot, for example, didn't touch anything in Green Lantern's recent years.  Or Batman's.  Even when it really no longer makes any sense.  Both characters have only been active in their universe for five years, story time, yet both have such a tremendous amount of backstory that it doesn't fit well.  (Batman, for example, had a son with a supervillain five years before he was active as a superhero, which could possibly be justified, but still seems like a stretch.)  Meanwhile, Blue Beetle, a character with very little backstory, was completely rebooted, starting from scratch.  Both decisions have less to do with the characters and their universe and everything to do with the people writing behind the scenes.

Marvel proudly has profiles in its comics calling its writers and artists "Architects" of the Marvel Universe.  But really, they're work for hire that can, and often are, replaced at a moment's notice.

I'm not suggesting that writers and artists shouldn't be considered important.  Nobody wants to read a lousy Batman story, drawn badly.  But at the same time, most of these characters are bigger and more important than the people behind the scenes.  Stan Lee might have created Spider-Man, but Spider-Man will be around long after Stan Lee.  And while the characters do need to adapt and change to stay relevant, messing with them too much at your peril.  Because you aren't going to improve upon Batman's origin.  And making an "extreme" version of Superman's suit is the modern equivalent of giving him bellbottoms.

It ain't going to stick, and you really should know better.

And the costumes.  Those are the real giveaway.  Shoulderpads.  Useless accessories.  Way too many colors.

They might as well slap bellbottoms on Batman and call it a day.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Random Blog Post

Hey, gang.  Apologies that I haven't been posting as regularly.  I've been surprisingly busy.  I can't complain about it.  It's a good thing for my career if I have a bunch of projects going on.  It's an exciting time to be me, and I guess that means if you're a fan, then it can be a little bit exciting for you too.  Or not.  I don't expect you to live vicariously through me.  Though you're certainly welcome to try.

Anyway, I'm still working on my top secret project I'm not allowed to talk about.  So why bring it up?  Because what's the point of working on a top secret project if you can't mention it?  This is probably why I'd be a lousy spy.  The details will remain undisclosed, but I'm optimistic at this stage that this could be awesome.  I could be wrong.  It's happened once or twice before.

But while I have a free moment, I figured I'd drop by, confirm that I am still alive, and maybe share some random thoughts.  People do seem to like that sort of thing.  Maybe because as a sort of famous person, they're under the illusion I have something interesting to say.  Or maybe we all have something interesting to say, and I just happen to be lucky enough to have an audience.

So I've been playing Skylanders on my Wii.  If you're unfamiliar with it, it's a video game with a gimmick.  You get a wireless "portal" device that connects to your system and when you put the Skylander figures onto the portal, they appear in your game as characters for you to control.  Think of it as Pokemon, but without having to capture the damn things and instead just going out and buying them.  It is a gimmick, and psychologically, it should be annoying that you're basically paying to unlock things that are already in the game.  But it's a tremendously charming game with a lot going for it.

For one thing, the game is a bit old school and aimed at a younger audience.  It's not tremendously difficult and most of the levels are straightforward, even if there is a bit of puzzles here and there.  For some reason, Skylanders reminds me a lot of that old classic Gauntlet.  Only instead of running around in a dungeon with four characters to choose from, there are 32 different Skylanders (if you should happen to buy them all).

What elevates this beyond a gimmick for me is that the game is genuinely fun to play.  And each character has their own unique style.  They aren't just interchangeable with different special effects.  Trigger Happy carries a pair of pistols that shoot gold coins and can spray the screen with a deadly barrage.  Meanwhile, Terrafin is a landshark who can swim through rock and punch the enemy with tremendous force.  The more you play the game, the more you unlock on the characters.  It's all a very elaborate system of enticement, but so cleverly done that it seems rewarding rather than manipulative.

It's the difference between a game with a gimmick and a gimmicky game.  Skylanders is certainly designed to sell collectible figures, but they went above and beyond to create a fun experience that continues to reward me.  If I were less secure, I might feel weird admitting how much I'm enjoying a game aimed at kids, but I'm a professional novelologist.  And I fear the day I can't see the beauty of playing a game where I can be anything from a rock dinosaur to a cyber dragon to a very angry tree who spits out giant spiked acorns that he rolls over the forces of evil.

Meanwhile, I've also been enjoying Castle Empire Online, a free online game that's about managing a small kingdom.  It's a different animal than Skylanders, but fun.  Worth checking out, if you're so inclined.  I play under the name EmperorMollusk.  Send me a friend request.  Maybe I'll trade you some fish for coal.  (I'm always short on coal.)

But what about the real world?  What's going on there?

How quaint of you to ask.

Got that secret project thing.  Hush hush.  But it's coming along.

Working on Helen and Troy's Epic Road Quest, my next manuscript (prob out in 2013).

Oh, and that Mack Megaton story…it's still coming.  I promise.

Finally, I'd like to offer my thoughts on the topic of skepticism.  The problem with your average person's view of skepticism is that it seems to mean "Non-Believer".  When I say I'm skeptical of ghosts, for instance, it's often assumed I don't believe ghosts exist.  In point of fact, I am a genuine skeptic when it comes to the paranormal.  I remain unconvinced but open to it.

And, yes, I understand there there is "evidence" for the paranormal.  It's just not very good evidence.  And it certainly isn't very convincing evidence for any particular claim.  This isn't to say that those claims are wrong.  It's just that they remain so ill-defined as to honestly admit they are specious at best.  The difficulty I have with "the paranormal" is that no one who believes it genuinely seems to be investigating it in an open way.  Instead, they have their pet theory that they are trying to prove.  That's just bad research.

For example, perhaps electronic voice phenomenon is a real thing, and we are managing to record the voices of invisible beings around us.  This could mean a hundred things though.  Perhaps there are alien entities from another dimension trying to make contact with us.  Perhaps mischievous imps are playing tricks on us.  Or perhaps they are psychic imprints created by the will of the living investigators.  When it comes to the paranormal, none of these explanations seems unreasonable to me.  Or they could all be wrong.

This is why I am skeptical.  Even if you capture a genuine EVP, it could be something we haven't even thought of yet.  There are so many possibilities, the only genuinely honest thing to do is to record the result and keep investigating.

Inevitably, someone will tell me I am being too closed minded.  But it's actually the opposite.  I'm so open minded about what it COULD be that I have a hard time just declaring what it is as if I actually knew.  The believer is often the one who seems closed minded to me, willing to stretch any and all evidence toward their pet theory, ignoring any possibility outside of that.

As an experiment, I suggest watching different ghost hunting shows.  What's most surprising about the shows isn't that they find "evidence", but the type of "evidence" they find.  Each show tends to find the kind of ghosts they're looking for, regardless of their location.  The less dangerous spirits of Ghost Hunters never seem to cross paths with the more terrifying specters of Ghost Adventures.  And the outright malevolent forces of Paranormal State never seem to show up in any episodes of Fact or Faked.

Skeptically, it could be argued that perhaps that's the way the supernatural works.  Perhaps different facets of the paranormal respond to different people.  Perhaps my very skepticism is what prevents me from seeing any evidence for myself.  Or perhaps it's all just our primitive imagination responding to spooky sounds and unfamiliar locations.  Or perhaps we're all just brains floating in a giant shared simulation and some people have their experience settings dialed to monster.

That's skepticism.  Far too extreme to be practical, of course.  But just want to put it out there.

My general rule is that if the evidence could just as easily apply to leprechauns, then I remain unconvinced.  Lights in the skies could be alien spaceships.  Or the fey folk playing tricks on us.  Until we actually have a flying saucer or a faerie in our possession, we can't know for sure.

Although I do still believe that Bigfoot is just Chupacapbra in a suit.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Love the Bunny Suit

I like bad special effects.  I like low budget movies.  I like stories that are put together from string and scrap and heaps of limitations and somehow still work.  I'm not against CGI or great FX.  These things can be awesome.  It isn't ultimately the FX that make a sci fi / fantasy / horror story work.  It's the story itself and its ability to draw me in, to encourage me to pretend with the filmmaker.

Sometimes, too much polish can be a bad thing though.  I'm not going to be some old guy who says, "The films were better in my day" because that's nonsense.  But I do think something special was lost when human beings gained the ability to put anything on film and make it seamless, if they have enough time and money to invest.

In the horror classic The Night of the Lepus giant rabbits attack a community.  They just don't do so very convincingly.  They're either bunnies running in slow motion through miniature sets or blurry folks in bunny suits attacking actors.  But to me, that's the charm of it.  That's what makes it work.  A giant bunny movie with amazing FX would somehow seem more ridiculous to me, more absurd.

John Carpenter's The Thing is a scary film, not just for the premise, but for the brilliant execution.  The thing itself is created through a host of practical effects, camera tricks, puppets, etc.  And that's why it seems so bizarre.  It moves in weird ways.  It looks like something you can actually touch.  And it remains hideous, inhuman, and strange.  A CGI thing could never measure up because it stops being a strange element in the film.  Instead, it becomes just another actor.  It integrates so smoothly into the universe of the film that it stops being a foreign element.  And that's so often what makes horror work.

But it's not just horror.  It's all fantasy.  Krull is a favorite film of mine.  A low budget spectacular with magic and heart.  And, yes, the movie looks like it takes place on a soundstage.  And yes, the FX, while solid, are not entirely convincing.  And, yes, it's a movie about rescuing a princess from a monster sorcerer from outer space.  And that's what makes it awesome.

I think that's what bugs me most when people complain about FX.  It's not much different than when someone reads a book looking for spelling and grammar errors.  Or reads a comic book to find a tiny mistake in continuity.  I'd compare it to someone combing over a home to find the one spot of rust or the one crooked nail.  If you can't enjoy your dreamhouse because it has a spot of water damage in the basement, then that's not the house's fault.  That's yours.

So it is that stories are created by humans and are thus limited by what humans can do.  Novels will have spelling errors.  Movies will have unconvincing FX.  You can either sit there and remark upon what everyone else has already accepted or you can just shut up and enjoy yourself.  Or at least shut up and let the rest of us enjoy ourselves.

This isn't to say that I excuse all bad FX.  Some work.  Some don't.  And I enjoy a good high budget fantasy / sci fi / horror flick now and then.  But The FX are merely the tools employed by a creator, just as the alphabet is merely a tool for me to share the thoughts in this sentence.  The second the tool becomes more important than the idea is the moment everything gets confused.

I have seen movies with amazing FX that left me cold, and I have seen movies with terrible FX that thrilled me.  And the reverse and all points in-between.  I've read books full of errors that left lasting impressions and I've read flawlessly edited novels that did nothing for me.  But when you get right down to it, the number of spelling errors in a story shouldn't usually be a deal breaker.  And the guy in the bunny suit . . . he's just a means to an end.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Simple

Hey, gang.  I'm back from my vacation.  Went to Blizzcon, then Disneyland, then Dreamworks Animation Studios.  It was a busy couple of days, and I'm still not recovered.

Blizzcon was a great time.  It was my first, and it was cool to see some of the things they previewed.  Disneyland isn't really my thing, but the wife liked it, so that was cool.  The Dreamworks stuff . . . it's mostly hush hush.  We're working on a new project that I'm not really free to talk about.  I will say it is NOT the Gil's All Fright Diner or anything like that.  It's an original idea, and while we're in the preliminary stages, it could be awesome.  Or not.  We're still figuring that out.  Can't say any more than that at this stage.  So don't bother asking.

But enough of my adventures in the real world.  They are thrilling, indeed, but they are also not what make me very interesting.  In fact, the only thing that makes me interesting to the general public is the mysterious art of novelology.  We might as well talk about that.

While I can't tell you what makes a great story, I can say that it's not all that mysterious.  Put interesting characters in an interesting situation, let things unfold to a satisfying conclusion, and BINGO you have the basics of a solid story.  That's not very helpful though, is it?  It seems almost like a no brainer, a bit of advice so obvious that there's no need to even speak it aloud.  Nevertheless, I'm sometimes surprised by the number of aspiring writers who don't get this.

Granted, there is no one way to write a story, but too often, I see people buying into the idea that characters and stories must be complicated in order to be interesting.  The problem with complexity is that while it's great when done properly, it's usually pretty lousy when done poorly.

Personally, I find simplicity is underrated.  I don't think of myself as a simple writer, but I do admit that it's rare for my stories to be exceptionally complex.  There's usually a good guy and a bad guy, some supernatural or sci fi themed conflict, and a resolution that involves either a tentacle monster or the universe almost exploding (or both).  I'd avoid saying I have a formula, but there's no denying certain recurring elements that keep popping up.

Yet even a simple story has room for its own personality, its own unique qualities.  With eight published books, one finished manuscript in the pipe, and a current project a third of the way through, I've created dozens of characters and endangered many a universe in myriad ways.  And none of my characters are especially complicated.  Still, I think of them as distinct individuals, even the similar ones.

But what if they weren't?  Would it really matter?  If I had only a dozen or so character archetypes at my disposal, would it hurt anything?  Aren't we Terrans just telling the same handful of stories over and over again with our own touches added to them for good measure?  In the end, it's all the same passions, the same fears, the same thirst for adventure, the same fear of the unknown, the same sense of mystery, the same empathy and malice that compels us.

Understanding this makes things a lot easier.  I consider myself a fairly creative soul, and I think my stories have some intriguing twists on the standard expectations of modern fantasy.  Yet ultimately, if they work it's because they appeal to the reader on a most basic level.  It's why I can't complain about being called "funny" because a funny story has reached someone in a very special way.  Humor is one of the things that makes us tick, and if a story helps someone get in touch with that element of themselves, I'm honored to have been a part of that.

My advice to aspiring writers of all types is to worry less about wowing the audience with how complex you can make things, and just concentrate on having one or two characters worth following around.  And then have them do something interesting enough to make us glad we did follow them.  Maybe that's something as thrilling as punching space aliens.  Or something as simple as having them learn and love and laugh.  The specifics aren't important.  And this is obvious to anyone who looks at the bookshelves.  They're filled with all kinds of stories for all kinds of people.  And while it's unlikely that any story will have universal appeal, a writer doesn't have to have a universal audience to be successful.  In fact, if you're definition of successful artist is universal acceptance, you might as well stop now.  Because I guarantee that no matter how successful an artist is, there are plenty of folks who dislike him.

The tradition of great storytelling has always been taking a protagonist and throwing them in an unusual situation.  Everything else is just window dressing and details.  Important stuff, to be certain, but at the end of the day, a cool story without much decoration beats a dull one draped with a thousand useless accessories.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

 

Vacation Update

On vacation.

That's the update.

Be back sometime next week, gang.  Promise.

Real Steel is the Real Deal

Watched Real Steel this weekend.  Great little movie about boxing robots.

That's right.  I wrote little, even though I'm sure this was an expensive film.  I don't refer to its budget when I call it little, I refer instead to the scope of its story.  At its heart, Real Steel is the story of a man looking for redemption, a son bonding with a father, and, lest we forget, giant boxing robots.

This is the film's real strength.  It's a bit of a cliche to say a sports movie has heart, but Real Steel does indeed.  It knows exactly what it's about, and it understands that this is exactly enough for the film.  Too many movies today seem to believe that the more plot going on, the better the film.  As if a simple story told well isn't enough of a challenge.  What makes Real Steel work is that it has enough faith in its characters and their story to allow that to be the focus of the film.  Giant robot fights don't hurt anything either.

This is, at the end, a sports film, and like most underdog sports films, it's meant to be inspiring.  And in nearly all ways, the film follows the traditional formula.  There's a down-on-his luck protagonist, an intimidating champion, a road to glory, and a final showdown.  Along the way, our protagonist learns to be a better person, gains confidence, and proves he has what it takes to be a winner.  It's almost all by the numbers, and there's nothing wrong with that when it's done well.

I've mentioned before how cliches are not bad in writing, and that EVERY story is filled with cliches.  It's only when the story is poorly executed that we notice.

The twist to this film is the robots themselves.  And they are awesome.  Every bout is fun, thrilling.  And though the robots themselves are all merely remote-controlled automatons, they still manage to have a lot of personality.  It's a neat trick, and one worth applauding.  The machines in this movie often have more personality than most flesh-and-blood characters in other films.

What I love though is that the film sidesteps so many other cliches.  The champion's human operators are not portrayed as dishonest or cheating.  Merely ruthless and manipulative.  In the final bought, they don't try anything underhanded.  They don't kidnap the kid.  They don't steal the control mechanism.  The stakes of this fight are not about life or death.  It's about relationships, second chances, and, dare I say it again, heart and soul.  And, really, that's more than enough.

Probably the most fun I've had at the movies in a long time, and a terrific movie all the way around.

Plus, did I mention awesome robot boxing?

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Clever

Someone asked me recently if I laugh at my own jokes while I'm writing.

Nope.

Though I have an uncomfortable acceptance of my place as a comic fantasy writer, I also must admit that I do write some funny stuff now and then.  Often even intentionally.  But I don't laugh while writing it, and I don't laugh while readng it.  Which is strange because anyone who knows me will tell you I laugh a lot.  Just not much at funny books, either my own or others.

There is a notable exception though.  I tend to laugh while reading my writing aloud.  I don't know why, but there's something about hearing it, even from my own lips, that will make me chuckle.  Sometimes it surprises even me.  This is probably why I should never do my own audio books.

Sometimes, the laughter makes sense.  If I wrote something a while ago, odds are good I don't remember every single word.  It can be a pleasant surprise to stumble across something funny I wrote and forgot about, almost like discovering a buried treasure you buried yourself.

Other times, there's just something about hearing it aloud that makes me laugh.  Yesterday, at my writer's group (the ever-lovin' blue eyed DFW Writer's Workshop) I made myself chuckle twice.  It's something I try not to do because I'm looking for honest opinions and trying not to taint the listeners with my own performance.

But this isn't surprising, really, because I have a tendency to laugh at my own jokes, which is a bit uncouth.  Nobody on sitcoms does that, no matter how witty and clever they are.  And it always bugs me in comic fiction when the author points out that everyone laughed at a joke in order to remind us that this is supposed to be funny.  It's the literary equivalent of the laugh track, and I dislike laugh tracks.

It also hurts my protests that I'm not a comic fantasy writer when I can't help but laugh at my own stuff.

I think it's okay to admit that I'm fairly clever.  I'm not going to quantify that, but I do make a living writing stories and, hopefully, amusing people with my wit, humor, and imagination.  And a love of giant fightin' robots and jetpack gorillas.  Humility comes with the knowledge that there are a lot of clever folks out there.  I just happen to be lucky enough to get paid for it.  And getting paid for it is really mostly a matter of persistence and luck since I know lots of clever, witty folks who are still waiting for their big break.  All I know is that I recently got a royalty check for writing a story about a raccoon god who wastes most his time watching television, and that has to count for something.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Fortune and Glory (a game Tuesady review)

Flying Frog Games is a new company on the board game scene, but in the space of a few years, they've produced a handful of interesting games.  The thing I like about Flying Frog Games is that they aren't afraid to be weird.  Their first game, Last Night on Earth, was a fairly traditional zombie-themed board game.  It's a fun game, but I'll admit it didn't wow me.  Then came A Touch of Evil, which won me over with its gothic sensibilities and the ability to pretend to be Ben Franklin fighting Dracula (more or less).  And then came Invasion from Outer Space where Martians fight brave circus performers, and any game where a dancing bear can tackle ray gun aliens has got to be worthwhile.

But while Flying Frog's games are always strange and unique, they are still a young company learning the ropes.  Every game they make gets better and better, and while they have a default system of rules that they seem to rely on, that's not really a bad thing.  It certainly makes their games easy to learn, and it's a flexible enough system that it works well for a variety of games.

The other thing I enjoy about Flying Frog is that they have ambition, and that ambition is front and center for their latest game, Fortune and Glory.  This is a big production from a small company, and for their chutzpah alone, they deserve some credit.  But that they've learned a lot from their previous games is obvious, and this is a solid fun experience.

Fortune and Glory is subtitled The Cliffhanger Game.  It's a thematic homage to classic pulp adventure tales where two-fisted heroes fight evil Nazis and bust the mob as they search the earth for ancient artifacts.  If you've ever thrilled to the adventures of globe-trotting adventurers or enjoyed watching villains getting punched for justice, then this game could be right up your alley.

Every player takes on the role of a hero adventurer.  It's a wide cast of characters, ranging from Jacques the French Scoundrel to Li the Chinese Lounge Singer and Sharon the American Reporter.  There's also a Hemmingway homage, a daring pilot, a plucky race car driver, and an English lord.  Each character has their own strengths and weaknesses though given the random nature of the game, it's not like one is noticeably stronger than the others.

The goal of the game is to gather a set amount of "Fortune" and return home a hero.  Mostly heroes accomplish this by traveling the world and gathering lost treasures.  Exploring hidden locations is basically a push-your-luck affair.  The more daring you are, the faster you can gather those treasures.  Unless your overconfidence gets you knocked back to your home city to lick your wounds.

The system is as simple as drawing a card and facing a danger.  The dangers are all classic pulpy adventures.  Things like sneaking aboard a Nazi blimp, deciphering ancient puzzles, fighting mobsters and monsters, car chases, and so on.  Usually you're presented a choice.  If you're exploring a dark cave, you can either try to use your cunning to avoid things lurking in the dark OR you can just go ahead and fight.  If you succeed on your choice, you get some "Glory" and progress on your adventure.  If you fail…

Here's where the game is really very fun.  Every danger card is double-sided.  If you fail at your danger, the card is flipped over to reveal a cliffhanger that remains unresolved until your next turn.  Not only does this fit very well with a classic serial atmosphere, it also gives every danger a sense of uncertainty.  There are multiple versions of every danger, each with a different cliffhanger on its back.  So you won't really know if those strange statues are going to shoot darts poison darts OR if they'll come alive and attack you.

The game offers several options to players.  There's the standard competitive mode where players are working against each other.  This can be fun because heroes can't directly attack each other, but they can certainly race each other to the valuable artifacts.  It's thrilling (well, as thrilling as a board game can be) to have two or more competing heroes braving dangers, one after the other, deciding whether to play it safe or try to get ahead of their opponent.

There's also cooperative mode, where all the heroes work together to stop an evil organization from stealing enough artifacts to enact their nefarious schemes.  There are two organizations: The Nazis and the Mob.  Each functions in a different style, with their own henchmen and leaders.  Not only does this put extra pressure on the heroes as they race to stop the villains from robbing secret temples, but it gives even more options.  Heroes can storm enemy bases, steal back artifacts, and otherwise battle minions scattered on the board.

Finally, there's the team game, where players divide into teams of heroes and try to beat each other.  You can also play solo (with a lone or multiple heroes) and have a very fun experience.

There are optional rules as well to keep the game interesting and customizable.  Even in the competitive game, you can have a zeppelin floating around the globe, scattering Nazis, while it gathers Fortune.  And yes, you can go ahead and try to steal some of that back if you're braving enough.

Fortune and Glory has a few weaknesses.  For one, it's an expensive game.  Since Flying Frog is a small game company and this is a BIG game with lots of cards and plastic, it has a hefty price tag.  Even if the theme appeals to you, it's not something a casual game fan is going to consider.  Add to this that it is a game full of ups and downs and a lot of randomization, many serious game players are going to find it too unpredictable.

Also, I'm not a fan of the cards Flying Frog uses.  They're a thick stock (which is good), but tend to stick together for the first few games.

Flying Frog uses photo art for its games, and it creates a peculiar visual style.  I didn't initially like it, but it did eventually win me over.  But it might not be to everyone's tastes.

But at the end of the day, Fortune and Glory is a fun, unique game with a lot going for it.  The game really convinced me it was cool when I ran to South America to fight Icebox, the notorious mob hitman, for The Sword of the Monkey God.  After a thrilling car chase and infiltrating a secret Nazi base, I managed to snatch it away from the mob just in the nick of time.  And I got to punch a Nazi flamethrower team while I was at it.

If that sounds like something you might enjoy, then this could be the game for you.