A. Lee Martinez's Blog, page 63

Say What?

What's left to say?

The wonderful thing about being a professional novelologist of some very modest renown is that I have a public voice.  Not only do I have a public voice, but I get paid to have it.  That always strikes me as strange considering how so many struggle to be heard, yet I am heard AND I get paid to be heard.  The information age has given most of us the chance to reach out to our fellow Terrans and share our thoughts, dreams, and witty asides.  The downside is that, with so many voices added to the collective discussion, it's hard to pick any one out.

This is why self-publishing and e-publishing are not the Holy Grail they're often presented to be.  It's true that almost anyone can get a book published at this point.  The word Publish does mean "to make public".  And anyone with enough determination can write a book and throw it out into the public sphere.  Yet in an endless ocean of books, both traditionally and self-published, it's hard to get noticed.  Almost impossible.  Anyone who tells you otherwise is either delusional or lying.

My 8th book is coming out next month.  I remain an obscure writer most people have never heard of.  I will most likely remain an obscure writer.  If  I publish thirty or forty novels, this will still be true.  If one of the film options takes off then I'll probably get a boost, but aside from that, I'll most probably never be a household name.  It's a question of scale.  If I manage to sell 300,000 copies of a book one day, it's still the tiniest sliver of the Terran population.

But I'm drifting from my original point.

What's left to say?  If you're lucky enough to have a voice that will be heard, if even only by a few loyal fans, then what do you do with that voice?  Inevitably, won't you run out of interesting things to say?  Can a person broadcast his thoughts on a semi-regular basis to strangers on the internet without endlessly repeating himself?  Or is there a point where it's just more of the same?

I like to think of myself as a semi-interesting guy with some unique thoughts to be added to the collective consciousness.  But I've been blogging for a few years now, and often, as I sit down to write one of these posts, I find myself wondering if I'm just not stuck in some endless loop.

Ghost hunters?  Silly pseudo-science.  CHECK

Giant fightin' robots?  Awesome.  CHECK

Games?  Cool.  CHECK

Writing?  Not as hard as you think.  CHECK

And so on . . .

If you think about it, so much of our conversation is just repeats of conversations we've already had.  It's just old conversations with new people.  And that's fine in real life.  But on the internet, I sometimes wonder what's the point here?  If someone really cares what I have to say about something, they can just peruse the older posts.  True, those posts were written by the past me, who is different from the present me, who is probably different than the future me.  But some constants seem to remain the same.  Past me loves giant fightin' robots and Tarzan.  Future me probably will too.

Well, I guess I've wasted enough of your time talking about how I have nothing new to talk about.  If you stuck around, thanks for reading.  And if you want to leave a comment on something you'd like me to talk about, even if it's something I've talked about before, then feel free to do so.  I accept that I'll have to repeat myself as time goes on.  But at least I'd like it to be about something someone, somewhere, is interested in reading.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Writing is Weird. Tentacle Monster Weird.

Before I forget, I should mention I was recently on www.madworldradio.com.  It's half an hour, and I really enjoyed being on the show.  So drop on by and listen to me wax poetic about e-books and writing.

Next topic:

Writing is weird.  I just noticed that five of my novels are available on Audible.com.  You'd think I'd be up-to-speed on this sort of thing, but I'm not very good at keeping track of it.  So I listened to samples of the books, and if there's anything weirder than getting paid to make up stories, it's hearing someone get paid to read the stories you make up. 

I'll admit that I still get confused by this sometimes.  I am a professional writer, a novelologist.  When I sit down at my computer and write a scene where a robot detective punches a mutant in the face, I'm doing my job.  It's how I pay my bills.   It's what makes me semi-sorta-almost-famous-ish.  And it's doubtful you would be reading this right now if I wasn't a writer who managed to catch a lot of lucky breaks.

At times, it's like being the guy who tastes ice cream for a living.  I'm sure it's not always a great job.  I'm sure there are times he just doesn't feel like tasting ice cream.  And, like any job, if you're going to be good at it, you have to take it seriously.  But in a world where so many people have jobs because they NEED them, not because they WANT them, even a lousy day of tasting ice cream beats the hell out of most anything else.

Thanks for letting me be the ice cream guy, gang.

Next topic:

If there are two things I love in this universe, it's robots and tentacle monsters.  My wife even bought me a T-shirt with a robot fighting a tentacle monster on it.  And it is awesome.

This is how I can tell how much I disliked the last Transformers film.  Because the new one might have a dinobot in it, and yet, I don't care.  Yes, the live action Transformers film has done the impossible.  It's made me apathetic about dinobots.  And that's quite an accomplishment.

Speaking of robots fighting robots, have you seen the trailer for the new Hugh Jackman film Real Steel?  I have no idea what the plot is about.  All I know is that it's something about giant boxing robots.  So that's really all I need to know.

Of all my books, the one I'd most likely write a sequel to, given my druthers, would be The Automatic Detective.  I like the world, the characters, and, of course, our robotic protagonist Mack Megaton himself.  Not that I plan on writing a sequel to that anytime soon.  And when I do finally write a sequel to something, it'd probably be with something with Orbit.

Oh, yeah.  Just in case you haven't heard, Divine Misfortune is out in mass market paperback.  If you were waiting for that, you should buy it.  And my new novel Chasing the Moon comes out at the end of May.  It'll be hardcover, but if you don't have the patience to wait for mass market, you should buy it.  You'll be glad you did.

What's Moon about?  It's complicated.  The basic premise is that Diana ends up with an apartment of monster roommates.  Reality is an illusion.  Everything we believe is wrong, and that a vast and uncaring universe doesn't make sense to anyone.  Not even monsters from beyond.

It's a fun read.  Really.  I promise.  Odds are good that if you've read one or two of my previous books, you like what I write.  So I feel confident in saying you'll probably like this one too.  It does have a tentacle monster eating the moon, and as previously established, tentacle monsters are wicked cool.

It's also my eighth book.  And that's weird.  Is it too soon to have a retrospective of my career at this point?  It still feels strange to even use the term career.  Yet novelology is my career, and it's doing good by me so far.  I don't know where I'll be in five years.  Maybe I'll still be plugging along in my obscure little corner of tentacle monsters and giant fightin' robots.  Or maybe I'll be an international sensation, beloved by millions, flying across the world in my private jet with my solid gold robot butlers.  Who knows?

All I can say is that I'm glad to be here.  And when you can say that, you're ahead in the game.

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's late, and I need to go to bed.  Catch you later, gang.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Everything Vs. Everything, Epic Edition

I watched this documentary on the Phoenix lights, and it got me thinking about skepticism.  I even had this great idea of exploring skepticism, belief, and the Terran desire to find something "greater".

But who really gives a shit?

I could throw my own observations into the collective consciousness of humanity, but it's just more noise to the din.  I could point out that skepticism is not defined by a lack of belief in the paranormal, but an admission that there are limits to our own perception and whenever we try to exceed those limits, we usually end up making assumptions proven wrong in the end.  But it's not going to convince anyone of anything, and I doubt anyone comes here looking for my feeble insights on the nature of perception itself.  So let's just put all that aside, and talk about something that matters.

Let's talk about Dinosaurs Vs. Vampires.

Or Robots Vs. Ninjas.

Or Dragons Vs. Space Aliens.

Or just about Anything Vs. Anything Else.

It's no secret that I am a fan of the Vs. genre.  I enjoy it when things fight other things.  The best part of Sucker Punch (or is that Suckerpunch?) was the sequence were a dragon fought a bomber.  Although I did also enjoy mech Vs. bi-planes.  Avatar only really won me over when a space rhino crushed a robotic marine.  And one of the reasons Kung Fu Panda, The Incredibles, and How to Train Your Dragon are each so awesome is because of super kung fu, robot attacks, and a giant @#$%ing dragon battle respectively.

Heck, Pokemon has built an entire franchise of video games on this concept.

Perhaps it's my comic book superhero background.  Reading them, that is.  I was never actually a superhero, and I certainly never went to Mars and fought Ernest Hemmingway's brain in a robotic gorilla's body for the fate of the universe.  (You're welcome, by the way.)

In superhero comics, everything loves fighting everything else.  Superman, an alien, lives in the same world as Captain Marvel, a boy who gets his powers from a wizard.  Spider-Man can throw down with the Hulk.  Aliens will fight dinosaurs.  Space gods fight regular gods.  In the world of comics, a highly-trained rich guy, an alien, and an Amazon can all hang out together and no one thinks it's weird.  So naturally, when it comes to watching memorable fights, you can't really go wrong here.

My favorite would have to be Marvel's Thor.  I admit I haven't read much of him lately, but I really don't read comics much at this point.  But Thor was my first superhero, and he'll always hold a place in my heart because Thor is a god who fights everything.  He has gone to outer space and battled cosmic aliens.  He's traveled through time.  His foes range from the Absorbing Man (a magically powered street thug), to the Tomorrow Man, to Loki, God of Evil himself.  He's also fought Set, of the Egyptian pantheon, and punched the Hulk to a standstill.  If you name it, Thor has probably fought it.

Thor has even fought the Midgard Serpent in his comic, and it was an epic battle.  Every page was a splash page!  And this was back when that concept was still pretty cool.

Did I mention the Destroyer?  You might have seen him in the trailers.  He's the giant armored warrior that is wreaking havoc.  The Destroyer is a magic robot created by Odin himself.  For those of you who skimmed that last sentence, let me repeat:  Magic.  Robot.  Odin.

In Walt Simonson's epic end to his run on the Thor series, we're treated to a series of amazing battles, one right after another.  It starts with Thor versus evil mutants and just gets crazier from there.  He faces Grendal, frost giants, the Midgard Serpent.  Eventually, his spirit ends up in control of the Destroyer itself, and Thor, as a magic robot armed with a magic lightning hammer, storms the gates of Hell itself.

Epic seems too timid a word.

Considering the high standards set by Simonson, I have to say I face the Thor film with trepidation.  I tend to be disappointed by superhero flicks because I want more action than I'm given.  And if the god of thunder is going to fight a magic robot made to obliterate everything it sees, it better be an epic battle.  Instead, I expect it will be like Iron Man 2, where the bad guys fall like tenpins.  That's all well and good for a minor foe like Whiplash, but this is the Destroyer we're talking about here.  If the fight is over in two minutes, you can be sure Loki must have had a hand in the screenplay.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Worlds Apart

So I've given Tron Legacy a lot of crap.  I admit it.  I just don't like the movie.  In fact, I think it's a hollow shell of a film.  It's a disservice to the original film.  It's a train wreck all on its own.  And, worst of all, it manages to make light cycles and disc battles kind of boring.

You might disagree.  You're free to.  Whether or not Legacy is a good film is entirely up in the air.  My opinion is valid because it comes from my perspective.  You may not have my perspective.  In fact, you probably don't.  Even if you dislike the film, you'll probably dislike it for different reasons.  And that's okay.  That's fine.  I am not calling anyone a bad person for liking Legacy.  I don't think someone is dumb for enjoying the movie.  And, though I find the film to be little more than an empty music video without characterization or plot, I am not right.  Or wrong.  Because it is in this particular subject impossible to be right or wrong.

As a novelologist, I learned long ago that people will have opinions.  I've accepted that many people will not like my books.  And those reasons run the full spectrum.  If you read negative reviews of my books on Amazon, you'll see that it's entirely possible for two people to hate a book for exactly the opposite reasons.  There are reviews that say "This book is insubstantial and silly" right beside reviews that say "this book is too serious and not nearly funny enough."  From a logical perspective, these two reviews can't both be right.  In a logical universe, a book can't be guilty of being too funny and not funny enough.  But we are all trapped in our own small universes, and you can give the same book to different people and end up with wildly different opinions and interpretations.

Just about every holy book ever written down is proof of this.

It always seems to come down to emotional resonance, a concept I find myself brushing up against more and more.  If something strikes a chord, triggers an emotional response, then it works.  There are those who found Legacy to be a visual treat.  Yet I found its universe to be flat and dull.  There are those who only see Godzilla as a guy in a rubber suit.  Yet I see him as the embodiment of pure destructive power.  Trying to bridge those kinds of gaps isn't easy.  It's often downright impossible.

We don't share emotions.  We don't create them in others.  Only they can do that.  No matter how often or loudly I extoll the virtues of giant fightin' robots, if someone doesn't like them, they probably never will.  If I haven't grown fond of Captain Jack Sparrow at this point, I doubt On Stranger Tides will be the film that does the job.  And if someone finds Tron Legacy a film with watching more than once, they aren't wrong.  I'm just not going to watch it again myself.

It's easy to be insulted when people disagree with us on our favorite things.  Probably because it can seem like a dismissal of the very emotions that give those things value.  It might not be intentional, but there's a certain subtext.

Writing about something like this, I realize just how difficult it is for human beings to communicate on the most important and primal level.  There's a gulf between us, and we're constantly trying to reach across that gap.  It's probably why we love to introduce our friends to things we love.  The only way I can really share my excitement with you is by giving you the same thing that triggered mine, and hope it works for you too.  And if it does, then suddenly, we're magically connected in a way that talking just can't accomplish.

Recently, I was speaking to someone who thought Edgar Rice Burrough's Mars books were among "the worst books ever written."  Considering how much I love those books, I immediately sensed a divide that we could probably never cross.  I knew it was true when that person described one of my favorite scenes in the series (where John Carter kills a giant green Martian with one punch).  Only instead of being excited by it, she found it absurd and comical.  I thought, "I just don't know how to relate to you.  Telling me John Carter of Mars is bad is like telling me oxygen is bad."

She wasn't wrong in her opinion.  She was just coming from a very different place.  And while we could have had some common ground elsewhere, I also had to wonder if that was really possible.  The longer this person and I talked, the more I felt that distance grow between us.  By the end, it just seemed like we were coming from entirely different universes.  That's not a judgment on which universe is better.  I like mine.  She likes hers.  And there was enough respect between the two of us to live and let live.

My goal as a novelologist is to create stories that stir emotions in others.  Maybe it's as simple as trying to make them laugh.  Or maybe it's trying to get someone to see how awesome a battle with a slime monster can be.  I tap into my own emotions and hope that we have enough in common, somewhere where emotions are spawned, to share an experience.  And when it works, it's a beautiful thing.

More often, it never quite lands where I expect.  Even when people like what I write, they hardly ever like it for the reason I wrote it.  Maybe I'm not a good enough writer.  Or maybe I'm coming from another place.  I can't hazard to guess.

It's like people who play delicate little blood elves in World of Warcraft when they could be playing hulking taurens.  I might not be able to relate, but at the end of the day, we can all kill Alliance scum together.  And that's good enough for me.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Sucker Punch Vs. The World

It's April Fool's Day.  I'll go on record as saying I don't get this holiday.  I don't find it particularly amusing.  Life is confusing enough without having people deliberately lie to us for a laugh.  But different strokes for different folks.  I promise though that their will be no April fooling going on on this site.

The mass market paperback for Divine Misfortune is out in stores now.  If you haven't read it yet, you should buy it and read it soon.  Maybe not today, but soon.  You'll be glad you did.

There.  Self-promotion out of the way.  Let's talk about movies.

I watched Sucker Punch last night.  My review is mixed.  On one hand, it had some amazing action, creating fantastic set pieces that you probably haven't seen before.  On the other, the story itself didn't quite engage me, and the end left me cold.  I'll admit that Zack Snyder has yet to wow me with his story.  This is probably because I'm not a "dark" guy.  300 was good.  Watchmen was meh, but then again, I'm meh toward the original material, so I can't really blame that on Snyder.  Perhaps that's why I'll never be considered literary.

Most people will probably end up comparing Sucker Punch to Inception.  Both deal with the blurring of fantasy and reality.  Both are about characters dealing with emotional baggage.  Both are determined to say something.  And my reaction to both is the same.  Good, imaginative films that I just couldn't connect with.

But I think a more interesting comparison to me is found in Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World.  I think Sucker Punch is much closer to Pilgrim.  Inception is a more traditional fantasy flick in that it creates a justification for the fantasy elements.  Neither Punch or Pilgrim bother with this.  They simply jump in without hesitation.  And just as the fights and video game references in Pilgrim are metaphors and stand ins for the emotional conflict of the story, so the battles in Punch fill the same role.  In this way, both films remind me of classic musicals, where plot points and conflicts are resolved via metaphorical action.  Only instead of bursting into song, our heroes throw fireballs and fight dragons.

This will strike many as dissonant.  Inception was well-recieved because it went out of its way to be real.  Even the dreamworlds we see are all grounded in reality.  I don't think this is because of a lack of creativity in the film.  It fits with the story being told to avoid too much fantasy.  And, like it or not, the audience will always find fantasy to be silly and frivolous.  Unashamed fantasy, even more so.

Thematically, both Punch and Pilgrim are very similar films.  They both deal with young people adrift who are trying to overcome an overwhelming world.  But Pilgrim is a film I prefer mostly for the portrayal of a generally more positive story.  It's not that Punch doesn't have positive moments, but Pilgrim doesn't have the same dark moments.  There are scenes in Punch that are deliberately hard to watch, of cruelty and tragedy.  Pilgrim doesn't have that.

The assumption by many will be that its darker scenes will mean Punch is a more serious film.  Fair enough.  But I have never found this to be true.  Pilgrim resonated with me.  Punch did not.  It's not just because the scenes are dark, but because they always end up boring me.  Maybe that's why I'm not a horror guy either.  Because in a film like Saw, I don't get scared watching someone being tortured or taunted.  I get bored and annoyed.  It's just my reaction.  Yours might be different, and that's cool.

I can say I find all three films to be excellent pieces of filmmaking, and just because one speaks to me more than the others, it doesn't necessarily indicate a better film.  Only a better film for me.  It's one of the lessons I've learned as a writer.  No story will speak to everyone.  It's true there are stories that fail completely, but it's also easy to mistake a story that fails for us as a story that fails.  Period.

We shouldn't be afraid to say something stinks.  Tron: Legacy is a lousy film.  It isn't impossible to convince me otherwise, but it's highly unlikely.  But this isn't because of the lack of emotional depth in the film.  It's because it's told so poorly, with dropped plot points, missed opportunities, and empty nostalgia.  The lack of emotional depth (at least for me) is just the final nail in the coffin.

Inception, Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, and Sucker Punch are all variations of the same basic premise.  People will prefer one to the other.  My own ranking is Pilgrim, Punch, Inception.  Yours might be different.  It isn't about right or wrong.  It's about what speaks to us.

Unless it's about Tron Legacy because Tron Legacy stank on ice.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Cargo Noir: A Game Review

After my last couple of blog posts, I'd like to go ahead and do something lighter.  How about a game review?  People seem to like them, and I haven't done any in a while.

CARGO NOIR by DAYS OF WONDER

Days of Wonder is a European game company that produces some quality stuff.  Perhaps it's because tabletop gaming is a more mainstream hobby in Europe (or so I've been led to believe) that makes them really put the effort into their games.  Previously, I've enjoyed Small World and Battlelore from DoW.  Small World remains popular with me because it is very easy to teach, plays quickly, and is very fun.  It also looks very pretty.

Cargo Noir is another very pretty game.  The components are minimal: a modular board, some cards, some ships, and some coins.  But the ships and coins are plastic, and my wife tells me the detailed molds for the ships required a lot of work.  While the game could work just as well with cardboard chits representing ships, there is something about holding a little plastic ship in your hands that is appealing.  Presentation counts.

Even without the crackerjack presentation, Cargo Noir is an excellent game.  The theme is that all players are smuggling cartels trying to earn the most for their illicit cargo.  Cargo ranges from cigars and art to weapons and uranium.  Each turn, players have a number of actions based on how large their fleet is.  They can bid on ports for goods, go to the black market, or go to the casinos.  The basic rules of the game are so simple that it takes only a few minutes to explain, but this simplicity is what makes the game work.

Players must balance their goals with their money, must know when to stick to their guns, and when to back off.  And yet, the game is swift.  The modular board changes based on the number of players.  The more players, the more ports of call that are open.  The ensures that there are always enough choices to keep things interesting while still putting players at odds.  It's just very well balanced.

I can't recommend the game without mentioning a few things though.  First of all, this is a game about criminal activity.  Though it's not violent or graphic, and it could just as easily be rethemed to a more traditional shipping style game, it's still a game about smuggling.  If the idea of buying a yacht from your profit selling uranium would bother you, skip the game.

It also has some very nice artwork.  Bright, colorful, and very cartoony.  However, because of the theme, the different cartels are all broad stereotypes.  The Casa Nostra is every Italian gangster cliche in one picture.  And Tres Sombreros are exactly what you would expect.  On the one hand, I don't find this bothersome because how else would you depict criminals?  And the art is so lively, it's intended in jest.  But if you're sensitive about this idea, don't buy this game.

Finally, the presentation of the game is wonderful, but it does raise the price.  As a guy who really likes games, it seems reasonably priced.  But for a casual gamer, the price tag might be a bit much.  But then again, it's easy to find deals on the internet.

Those warnings out of the way, Cargo Noir is  lively bidding game with a lot to like in it.  It's especially nice that it plays well with two players.  So, aside from some presentation and theme issues (which really are very minor), I can safely recommend Cargo Noir as a game worth buying.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

No Comment

If the internet is a reflection of who we are, then the comment section of almost any particular website is proof that most of us are not worth hearing.

(Not on this site, of course.  I enjoy all your comments.  Keep them coming.)

But a quick scan of almost any website will reveal that people are dumb.  Very, very dumb.   Although the stupidity and ignorance bother me less than the hostility and rage that so often pops up there.  Recently, DC Comics had to shut down the comment section on its website because a debate over who was faster, Flash or Superman, devolved into a namecalling ragefest with personal attacks and probably even racism and bigotry thrown in for good measure.  Hey, it's the internet.  If you can't call someone a "faggot" for not agreeing with you, then what's the pont?

Granted, not all questions are as important as Flash vs. Superman.  (By the way, the answer is Flash.  He's the "fastest man alive".  It even says so in his job description.)  But the debate is less about the importance of the question and more about how Terrans behave in general.

We are, for the most part, pleasant on a face-to-face basis.  There are exceptions, but these sort of aggressive, in-your-face types are usually considered obnoxious at best, pathetic at worst.  Most of us know not to shout slurs at people just for having an opinion we disagree with (TV pundits and famous people usually being the exception), and we realize that life is complicated and it's better to get along than fight over every little thing.

But in the faceless internet, where we are freed from civility, where we are faceless and our opponents are faceless, where emotional context is difficult to pin down, we become uncaged monsters.  The freedom and lack of direct feedback confuses and overwhelms so many of us, we simply don't know how to act.  So we lash out.  We mock.  We dismiss.  And we rage.

We rage like an overtired toddler at bedtime.

There are several different versions of this.  There's the Aggressor, who mistakes typing IN ALL CAPS and mocking sexual-orientation / penis size / race / you-name-it as debate.  There's the Hipster, who bemoans his title as cooler and smarter than everyone around him.  There's the Fan, who thinks any attack on his passion is an attack on him and reacts as if the smallest complaint about it is the same as telling him he's wasted his life.  There's the Troll, who mistakes any responses to his comments as validation.  And there's the Parrot, who spews out catchphrases and cookie cutter "wisdom".  There are dozens of variations, and they all lead to the same realization.

Most people are not equipped to have a conversation or offer constructive criticism.

It's a bit unfair to say this though because comment sections attract a very specific group of people.  We'll never know how many people don't leave a comment because they don't feel the overwhelming need or because the conversation turned hostile so quickly.  We never know how many people have been shut out of the discussion because they find it's not worth the trouble to post a thought when you'll be shouted down by a sea of insults and verbal abuse for daring to express an opinion.

Yet even this shows a weakness in how we discuss things.  Give us a blank canvas to have a conversation and, inevitably, the reasonable and the polite will be frightened away by the rageful and the dogmatic.  Perhaps the trolls are only a small percentage, but they succeed in seeming much larger because of this.  They control the discourse through intimidation and misguided passion, and they probably don't even realize they're doing it.

On the one hand, I don't know if this is a problem that needs to be fixed.  I'm not sure it matters if the internet is full of ignorant rage and empty dogma.  On the other, there's something terribly frustrating about this rule that says on the internet, the most powerful tool of communication we have, that often the worst of us are the only ones who speak.

I don't have a solution, and I'm certainly not the first to comment on the problem.  The optimist in my thinks we'll work it out one day.  The pessimist thinks it's just more of the same and that there's really nothing unique or unusual about the internet.  More often than not, the loudest voices win the argument.  Not because they're right, but because so many of us mistake passion for truth and the rest of us would rather not get involved.  Because getting involved doesn't often help.  It just as often adds fuel to the fire.

I want to believe there's a way to fix this, but damned if I know how.

Leave your enraged suggestions in the comment section below.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Zen of Games

I'm a game player.  I used to play video games, but now not so much.  Still, I play World of Warcraft as well as many fine board and card games.  I have too many tabletop games, really, but they're my hobby and I love them.  So I keep buying them.

As a game player, I find myself increasingly looking at the world from a game player perspective.  Games are merely rules.  Some are abstract, like in Chess or Checkers.  Others are meant to simulate specific real-world or fantasy scenarios, like Monsterpocalypse or Monopoly.  In the end, games reflect how we Terrans view the universe because they are, after all, made by Terrans, for Terrans, about things that interest Terrans.

There are literally games for every conceivable niche, for every psychology, every obsession.  There are wargames, conquest games, management games, cooperative games, party games, pure luck games, pure strategy games, and anything and everything in-between.

My own taste in games is toward thematic games with strategy but randomizing elements.  I find these to be most stimulting because they reflect how I view the universe.  I think we can all work toward our goals (if we're lucky), and that you can make good decisions toward reaching those goals.  But you can also succeed or fail, despite your own genius and / or incompetence.  You can make the best decisions in the world and still fumble when it counts, and you can sometimes succeed despite yourself.

Granted, if the world is a game, it's such a large, incomprehensible game that there's really very little chance of ever understanding it.  Especially given our brief flicker of existence.  But that's what makes games interesting and rewarding.  They're like mini-universes where things can make sense, where we get to look from the outside in, and where we can plot and plan with little fear of reprisal because, heck, if we screw up, it's just a game, right?

Perhaps it's only the game player in me, but I think you can learn a lot about someone by the games they favor and the way they play them.  It's a broad generalization and not always true, but I have noticed certain patterns.

People who want to be "nice" in games, for instance, annoy me.  There is no "nice" in games.  It's a game.  If you benefit from the move, then go for it.  Don't hold back because you're afraid you'll be percieved as mean.  In real life, if you hurled my giant space monster into an apartment building, I'd probably be upset.  But it's a game.  Nobody dies.  Nobody gets hurt.  It's the one place in my life where I can demolish a city with no guilt.  If you're too nice to crush your enemies in a game, then you're probably a wimp.

On the other hand, people who are overly aggressive in games annoy me too.  Games have clear cut goals.  It's one of the advantages they have over real life.  And if all you can do is continually harrass and annoy other players rather than focus on that goal, then you're probably a jerk.

Some players MUST win.  These players, I detest.  The advantage of a game is that, even if you lose, the world does not depend on it.  You can lose and nothing bad happens.  But if you can't stand losing, then you're probably an overachiever who needs to chill out a bit.

Some players don't care at all if they win.  These players annoy me too.  Most games are designed with a clear goal.  Unlike real life, this goal is always something to consider.  If you ignore it, the entire game system tends to break down because most games are designed with this in mind.  If you don't try to win, then you're probably adrift in the real world, unable to focus on your goal when it really counts.

There are players who hate random elements in games.  Dice, cards, etc.  They can't stand these things because they can't stand a universe that will punish and reward them independently of their decisions.  They don't just want a clear goal.  They want a clear path to those goals, and they don't want to have to deviate from it.  They don't mind games that are very "scripted", that play out in a very specific way.  They often find that comforting, rather than dull.  These gamers are most probably control freaks, who hate that destiny doesn't always cooperate with us in real life.

There are abstract gamers.  They like games that dont't really look like anything, but are instead, arbitrary rule systems.  These type of players seem to run in two categories.  There's the puzzle solvers, who enjoy a game as a challenge to be mastered via long hours of play and practice.  And then there's the "Grown Ups", who detest anything that looks like a toy because toys are for children.  I like the first group.  Don't particularly see where the second is coming from though since all games are toys, when you get right down to it.  Theyr'e like the people who think a movie must be talky and dull to be award worthy and can't appreciate the beauty of a giant robot fight.  Poor bastards.

There are game players who boil away everything but the rules and numbers.  They'll spend hours searching for that fabled Sword of a Thousand Truths if it gives them a +4 Strength bonus.  They'll interpret every rule in the most utilitarian fashion, even if it goes against the spirit of the game.  And they'll usually think you're silly for not doing the same.  I find these people obsessive, often missing the larger picture.

Reading all the above examples, I can see how they come across as negative because, really, our most negative traits tend to be the ones that stand out.  But, of course, there is that old adage that our biggest strengths are usually our biggest weaknesses and vice versa.  Obsessive people can be irritating, but they can also accomplish a lot.  Nice people can be wimpy, but they can be reliable and trustworthy.  Aggressive people might not always aim at the right target, but if they do, there's no stopping them.  And control freaks can often seize the initiative in situations where everyone else would just give up.

What type of game player am I?  I can't honestly answer that question.  No one can.  But if you asked my friends, I'm sure they'd have some good observations for you.

Finally, I'd like to give the rules for the game that got me here today.  I call it the ASPIRING WRITER game.

On your turn, you write a book.  Then you submit.  Then you roll a 500-sided die, don't look at it, cover it up.  Wait 3 to 6 months (or longer), then uncover the die.  Is it on number 42?  Nope?  Well, write another book.  Submit both of your books.  Roll two 500-sided die, don't look at them, cover them up.  Wait 3-6 months (or logner), then uncover the die.  Is it on number 42?

Nope?

Well, repeat the above steps as often as necessary.  And remember, the game only ends when you quit.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Anomaly

Can a novelologist earn a living writing standalone stories?  It's a question that comes up a lot.  My answer to this is that, yes, it's certainly possible.  I'm doing fine writing non-series novels.  Granted, I might be an anomaly, and because we don't live in the universe where I am writing my 9th Gil's All Fright Diner book, we can never really know if I'm doing better or worse in comparison if I'd chosen that path.  We can only accept the universe we live in and make assumptions from that.

I am fairly unique at this point.  I can't think of many other novelologists right now who are doing what I'm doing.  I wouldn't say it makes me a better writer than those who choose the more conventional path.  How can we even measure such things?  But I am definitely doing something different, and so far, it's working.

There are writers who create shared worlds, populate them with dozens upon dozens of characters, and then just play with a few at a time.  This is very similar to writing standalone novels.  You can read most of the Discworld novels as standalone novels, for instance, and Christopher Moore's books all seem to take place in the same continuity, though that continuity is so loose and flexible that, aside from characters popping in now and then, most the books could be considered standalone novels.

But I'm the guy who goes out on a limb and creates it all from scratch.  I'll write about vampires, robots, trolls, gods, aliens, and incomprehensible monsters.  I'll design worlds that are incompatible, that were never made to go together.  The retro-sci fi noir of The Automatic Detective is mostly incapable of blending with the fantasy of A Nameless Witch.  I'm not even interested in using the parallel worlds justification to allow them to crossover.  Maybe I'll change my mind later.  But for now, Duke the werewolf and Mack Megaton, robot detective, will never bump into each other.

(There is a small reference to Gil's in Divine Misfortune.  Not many people spot it.  It's just for fun, not meant to imply that the two books are related in any way.  Although, again, I could always change my mind.)

I pass no judgment, good or bad, on series books in fantasy / sci fi.  There are good ones.  There are bad ones.  But isn't that true of everything?  I don't think I am more creative because I have no interest in series.  Writing a book is a creative process, even if using an established world with established characters.  I think writing standalone novels gives me the illusion of being more creative.  It certainly has helped my burgeoning Hollywood career.  It's given me more books to option, helped certain people to view me as a writer that isn't easy to pigeonhole.  But even that Hollywood stuff is a lot of luck.  The right people at the right time.  I can't explain it.  I couldn't even tell you how to do it because I don't know how I did it.  Other than write what I want to write and hope someone else out there likes it too.

It's not a perfect system, but so far, it's worked out all right for me.

So can a sci fi writer make it writing standalone novels?  Yes, he can.  At least, I can.  Make of that what you will.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Catching Up

Hey, gang.  Sorry I haven't been around for a while.  Been busy.  Still am.  Have a couple of projects demanding my full time attention, and they're still ongoing.  But I wanted to drop by, check in, and just confirm that I am still alive.

I recently bought a new board game: Mansions of Madness by Fantasy Flight Games.  I plan on writing an in-depth review soon, but for now, I'll just say I've really enjoyed it.  Based loosely on Lovecraftian themes, one player takes on the role of The Keeper, controlling the monsters and obstacles the characters must face while the other players are Investigators, exploring a map and trying not to get killed or driven mad while doing so.  It's a fairly unique game with some resemblance to a few others, most notably Betrayal at House on the Hill and Descent.   So far, it's getting thumbs up from me, but I want to give it another play or two before really making up my mind.  Stay tuned.

Another fun game that I can definitely recommend is Thunderstone by AEG.  It's a deckbuilding game, which is a genre that has blossomed recently.  Each player starts with a small deck of cards, and they draft more cards as the game progresses, adding and removing cards from their deck.  The goal is to build a strong enough deck that it can reliably kill the monsters populating the dungeon.  While I haven't played any other deckbuilding games, Thunderstone is quickly becoming a favorite.  It's extremely easy to teach, and rarely boring because player turns are fast and furious.  The semi-random nature of the monsters, heroes, and village supplies means that every game can be unique.  And if you add in the expansions, you literally have dozens upon dozens of card types where only a handful will ever be used in any game.  I enjoy the theme as well, so this one is definitely recommended.

Saw Unknown.  Good movie.  Heck of a cool car chase, which I always enjoy.  It's not a "twisty" movie in the sense that it isn't trying to surprise and shock you.  It's up front with its plot points and if you're paying attention at all, you really shouldn't be surprised by the story.  But that's not a bad thing.  It's not the duty of the writer to impress you with how complicated he can make the story.  It's to tell a good story that you're glad you saw, and I found Unknown to be an entertaining, well-crafted film from top-to-bottom.  It engaged me, didn't try to outsmart me, and ended up being good fun with some solid characters, great acting, and did I mention a kick ass car chase?

While I'm here, I'd like to go ahead and recommend I Am Number Four.  I don't know how well it did at the box office, but by now, I expect that anything unapologetically fantastic is always dismissed as childish and beneath us.  I know nothing about the books is based on, but I Am Number Four is that rare film with good, relatable characters AND giant alien monster fights.

Number Four reminded me why I was so disappointed in Iron Man 2 because when we get to the climax of Number Four, a showdown between our heroes and a group of alien bounty hunters, we are treated to a smorgasbord of awesome.   In so many films of this nature, the showdown at the end is almost treated as an inconvenience.  "Fine.  I guess we'll throw in a final battle because we're supposed to, but let's keep it short and simple."  And it's difficult for me to criticize this attitude because you so rarely hear anyone criticize adventure flicks for not having enough adventure.

But in Number Four's climax, we have blasters, teleporting, huge beasts, telekinesis, and cool martial arts.  These things are cool, and the way the film handles them is cool, too.  It's a film I really liked which means it'll probably be mocked by most.

Have I mentioned lately how astounded I am that I have a career?  Maybe it's just easier in novelology than film.  It's true that if Iwere writing screenplays, I'd have to reconsider a lot of the elements I write into a story.  But I'm a novelologist, and happy to be one.

Speaking of which, I should probably get back to work.  Catch you later, gang.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee