C.P.D. Harris's Blog, page 81

Django Review, and some more about systems as villains.

Recently I watched Quentin Tarantino’s Django Unchained, and after a brief review of the movie I am going to link it to my discussion of systems and modern villainy.

Consider this your final SPOILER WARNING. If you are on the fence about the movie, go watch it ASAP.

Django unchained is a monster of a movie. It is brutal,  thought provoking, tense, and often hilarious. I am particularly impressed with Mr. Tarantino’s use of violence. The action scenes are tremendously bloody, often cartoonish, with explosions of gore and jokes abound. This is a marked contrast to some of the other forms of violence in the movie, like a slave being mauled by dogs, the hotbox, or the brutal “mandingo fight”. The former acts as a release for the later, as Tarantino masterfully builds his tale with his hallmark scenes of tense, building dialog and characterization scenes. Trust me, When Jamie Foxx finally whips out his gun, it comes as a much needed release.

The best scene of the film for me, was the “mandingo fight”. It perfectly juxtaposes the decadent, opulent lifestyle of a rich plantation owner with some of the most depraved practices of slavery. The horror on big Fred’s face as he beats the other slave to death while the two plantation owners watch on, wallowing in luxury, is etched into my brain. Nicely done.

The acting was phenomenal from leads, to supports, to extras and cameos.  Everyone gives their all in this one, and it shows. Samuel L Jackson and Leonardo diCaprio are especially impressive, but I will get to them after the review. Christoph Waltz continues to impress me; his Character, Dr King Shultz is an oddity, reminding me a little of his role in Inglorious Bastards and a little of Doc in Tombstone. It is a unique and interesting role, the outsider, observer, and mentor. He works well with Jamie Foxx, who has a tough role, a straight laced slave turned cowboy in a movie that is frequently over the top. Foxx plays it well, with subtle growth throughout the movie, finally acting as the much needed instrument of vengeance, presiding over the destruction of an evil institution. His showboating after blowing up Candieland is exactly appropriate, because it is what almost all modern folk would do after scoring a blow against slavery.

So, I liked it. Yeah. I’ve had some enjoyable conversations about it as well.

How does this relate to systems as villains, you ask? Well, slavery is a pretty good example of a villainous institution. As much as some people might try to argue that it had some positive aspects these days, it is responsible for death and misery on a titanic scale. Tarantino does a decent job of reminding us just how nasty and downright evil slavery could be.

Calvin Candie (Leonardo diCaprio) and his head slave, Stephen (Samuel L Jackson) do a superb job playing the agents an beneficiaries of this wicked system. Mr Candie is the slave owner. He grew up around slaves. He makes his living off of the labour of slaves. He uses the slaves for his entertainment, and sexual gratification. He does it because the institution taught him that his slaves are his to do with as he pleases and enforces his rights of ownership  He betrays some youthful curiosity, questioning why the slaves don’t revolt or wondering about Django. But he is too comfortable with his life to go beyond the easy answers provided by justificational sciences like phrenology or social Darwinism. Tradition makes him comfortable with slavery, and his own brutal entertainments ensure that he continues to support the institution; after all if he had to admit to himself that men like D’Artagnan and Big Fred as as human as himself, how could he reconcile his treatment of them. DiCaprio plays Candie with impressive humanity, deftly avoiding caricature  but still leaving little doubt that this is a man who is very comfortable with the ugly institution that he is the prime beneficiary of.

And yet, in some ways Calvin Candie’s evil pales in comparison to that of his favoured slave, Stephen. While Calvin is the slave-owner and the real beneficiary of the system, Stephen has spent his life working and worming his way into a comfortable position. He is able to question/sass the master, give orders to the slave trackers, and manages the plantation. The other slaves fear him, and even the master listens to him. He has learned to wield tradition like a weapon, invoking it to give him a modicum of control over the younger Calvin when they are having private discussions (What would your daddy think, Master Calvin?). And Calvin respects him, because while Calvin Candie is the king of the Candieland plantation, Stephen is his chief minister. He almost seems like the high functionary of slavery, a priest of sorts. I find Stephen fascinating, not only because Samuel L Jackson does such a brilliant job playing him, fawning and laughing overt the master, plotting in private, and terrorizing the other slaves, but also because he is the greatest agent of the very institution that makes him a slave, and he seems to be very much aware of this.

The final showdown is precipitated by Stephen informing the master that Django and Dr King are not what they seem. Ask yourself why he does this. Is it really loyalty to the master? Is it really that much of an issue if they buy Broomhilda (Django’s wife, sold to a different owner, played by Kerry Washington) and get away with it? Why does Stephen care if they fool Calvin to buy a slave’s freedom? Stephen cares because his comfortable life and the authority which he wields over the slaves and lesser whites comes from the master and the institution of slavery. He has bought into the system, dedicated his life to gaining as much as possible from it, often at the cost of his fellow slaves. Without slavery, he would be in a much more tenuous position, due to age and the dislike of the other slaves (Django points out that most slaves really hate slaves like Stephen). Thus he hates Django from first glimpse, because the actions of this freeman threaten the assumptions of the system that he upholds. He makes every effort to discredit and eliminate Django because of this.

In some ways Stephen is admirable. He’s made the best of a very limited hand, gaining power and prestige in a system that is made to oppress his people. On the other hand, when that system, which gives him his power, is threatened he reacts with rabid viciousness. He is too invested in the institution of slavery to allow any challenge to it, and is willing to commit evil acts in order to preserve the system and his role within it. Hats off to whomever wrote the role and to Mr Jackson for playing him so well.

Interestingly it is Stephen’s need to bolster his position that leads to him making a fatal mistake, choosing to torture Django so that his fate acts as a warning to anyone who would challenge the system, instead of killing him quickly and efficiently. This is a frequent theme in history as well, time and time again, from the inquisition to Batista, when a system is challenged the functionaries of that system respond with gruesome executions and torture, hoping to scare off any challengers.

Slavery is an excellent example of a system as a villain. Django unchained is a great example of how characters can become invested in the system, and how they will perpetrate truly evil acts in order to uphold the institution that gives them power and authority. I’d love to see more Fantasy books that follow this path; a corrupt system creates engaging antagonists while remaining as untouchable as Sauron in his tower.

Now if the modern villain is a Javert or Stephen, who upholds a broken system, then the modern hero is the one who challenges, changes, or destroys a broken system. Food for thought.

Cheers and happy birthday to J R R Tolkien

I was going to continue writing about systems and villains today, digging in to Django Unchained, but I have been informed that today (Jan the 3rd) is J R R Tolkien’s Birthday. The writer of Lord of the Rings would have been one-hundred and twenty-one today, ten years older than Bilbo at the start of the Fellowship.

I could write about the new Hobbit movie, but I don’t care to. Tolkien fans with either love it, or love to hate on it. Peter Jackson’s saga will surely draw attention to epic fantasy, which will change the course of fantasy fiction a little, which in turn will result in a backlash and more shadowy assassins and villains win! books later on. That is simply part of the ebb and flow of the genre, at least as long as I have been reading it.

Instead I would like to write a little about why Tolkien is important to me.

My love of Fantasy did not begin with Tolkien. It started with history books (Cortez and the conquest of the New World was my favorite… ugh, bloody minded little bastard, I was) which morphed into an interest in Arthurian mythology and the Faerie court from Midsummer Night’s dream (The first play that I saw at Stratford) and then into Dungeons and Dragons and Sword of Shannara. These later two have direct connections to Tolkien’s work, and eventually prompted me to read my mother’s worn old copies of JRR Tolkien’s masterpiece.

I was about twelve, but like most of my family and many of the other lifelong readers that I know, I was reading well beyond a grade twelve level (meaningless statiscal drivel). I remember being distinctly unimpressed by much of the books. I was not interested until Gimli joined the fellowship and not hooked until Boromir died. Brooks works seemed much more adult to me back then, with more death and violence and viciousness and obvious darkness. I enjoyed the Lord of the Rings but it was not on my favourites list. As a precocious child I made sure than everyone knew that I much preferred other books (which varied depending on what I had just read) instead of that kid’s stuff. When confronted about this in my university career, I thought about why, and was forced to point out that I found the whole series rather dry. I even felt smart, in the way that cynics often do, for saying that. I did enjoy Tolkien’s world-building, even back then. His Dwarves and Elves, Moria and Mordor, enthralled me as ideas, even if they did not win me over entirely to his great work.

I felt a small a debt to Tolkien for what he added to the genre, but had I not re-read the books as an adult, I would have kept on insisting that Tolkien was oudated and rather stuffy, a foot-note in fantasy. I insisted that Jackson’s movie trilogy was better than the books, because it had real emotion and active pacing.

What brought me back to the fold was actually Lord of the Rings Online, the MMO. They were bringing out a Moria expansion, and I wanted to see how close the game was to the books. So I re-read the Lord of the Rings in preparation for the release of that expansion. By then I had delved deep into the Fantasy genre, and also further into philosophy, history, and mythology. Plato, Campbell, and Nietsche. Martin, Mieville, and Gemell. (My inner bookshelves are a confused mess). This time, not even Tom Bombadil could dim my enjoyment of Lord of The Rings. The trilogy really sprung to life in my mind. I was full of questions and theories. Inspired by Theoden King. Shaking my head at the hateful familiarity of Wormtongue and Denethor. I could feel the hopeless, oppressive atmosphere of the third age. I picked up on so much more that second time around. Lord of the rings immediately won its way to the top of my shelves once again.

This prompted me to read the Hobbit for the first time ever. By now I was over my fear of being seen as immature for reading “children’s books”, havind just read Harry Potter and loving it (The number of lumbering, tattoo’d, bearded manly men who told me I should rather surprised me). I found the Hobbit to be even better, and not just because I love Tolkien’s Dwarves. The Hobbit has an extra layer of polish, revised by JRR himself after writing the lord of the rings. The Riddle Game, Smaug’s Lair, Bard, The Hints of Darkness and corruption. Thorin and the battle of the five armies. Wow. While the world-building and imagery of the Hobbit are not as strong, the pacing, characterization and emotional appeal are even better than lord of the rings. I can honestly say that the Hobbit sits very highly in my estimation. I wonder what main series would be like if he had been able to take another pass.

After reading the Lord of the Rings again, and the Hobbit for the first time, I felt foolish for dismissing his works as dry and out-dated. I could see the subtle influences and appreciate the characters now. This experience taught me, yet again, that the best way to approach a book is with an open mind and a sharp eye for details. Tolkien’s world is one that only comes alive to those who are willing to look. The deeper you look, the more you find. I now understand why Tolkien fans re-read his works so often: it grows with you, far better than most.

Cheers to you Mr Tolkien, and thanks for the good times!

Systems as Villains

Lord of the Rings is frequently criticized with having a faceless, oppressive, and unrealistically evil villain in the form of Sauron.

After writing my last blog post, where I discuss how Javert is an excellent modern villain, I was spurred to think a little more about the villainy of systems. When I refer to systems, in this case, I am thinking of a set of agents, processes, and related parts serving a overarching whole. In the case of Javert he is the devout agent of a very broken legal system. He cannot reconcile how flawed the justice, the system, is with his desire for justice, the idea. In the end the only real evil in Les Miserables is this dysfunctional set of laws that treats a man who steals a loaf of bread to feed his family as a dangerous criminal. I like the idea of systems as villains, because I feel that it rings true in the modern world where massive impersonal forces like the state, the economy, corporate interests, political parties, and other systems often seem to take on lives of their own and will even cause havoc as a byproduct of their pursuit of whatever ends they were made for.

Almost everyone hates at least one of the systems that we are forced to deal with on a daily basis, usually an institution of some kind. Some people hate the government because they feel it takes and wastes money and deprives them of various freedoms. Some people hate the systems that regulate the labour market, forcing them to whittle their days away for minimum wage while their bosses rake in record profits. Think about it, I’m sure you can think of times where it seems like one of these systems is picking on you. The monumental power of these institutions and the way their various components mindlessly pursue their tasks gives them a monstrous quality, especially when they run out of control.

“The bank is something more than men, I tell you. It’s the monster. Men made it, but they can’t control it.”

- John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath, Chapter 5

Agents of an institution often have tremendous authority, taken from the system they serve. The police, for example, are empowered to enforce the laws of the land. Ideally this authority is balanced so they they have enough power to perform their tasks without impinging too much on the freedoms of others. If the system gives them too much power then those of them who are so inclined will become corrupt, using that power to further their own ends while shielding themselves with the authority of the law. If the system restricts the police, making if difficult for them to catch criminals, then it creates a different set of problems. The third, and most interesting option, is that the law itself might be flawed, perhaps fatally in conjunction with other events (like a wave of poverty and starvation that forces people to steal food to survive), and is a source of harm.

This might sound a little boring as pure theorycraft, but it is the basis for much of modern conflict. A man whose brilliant idea is stolen and patented by a massive multinational, and who spends his life trying to reclaim it is facing down his own dragon. If he wins he will be seen as a hero by many people. The destruction of a system, revolution, is perhaps the ultimate act of modern heroism, usually accomplished through a series of acts that are later regarded in the best of lights. Slavery, as repugnant as it seems to us now, was once a system that much of the world though was necessary  humane, and even honourable. Even among people who knew it was wrong, slavery was seen as too big of an institution to change or overcome, just another brutal fact of life in an ugly world. Slavery is a prime example of a villainous system, one that is quite evil, and also one that has a long history of real heroes standing up to it and eventually overcoming it.

In my book, Bloodlust: A Gladiator’s Tale, the characters often struggle against the system. Gavin is bothered by the fact that he is denied his freedom because of his Gift (magic is seen as too dangerous to be used freely — a fairly common fantasy trope, because it makes sense if magic is powerful) and struggles with what he must do to win the freedom to use it. I also include themes of aggressive imperialism, another system that has inflicted real damage in the real world.

Conflicts with systems a form of struggle that most people can understand and relate to. Systems can also be quite evil, perhaps intentionally, and certainly when they spiral out of control. The are tremendous foes, with power far beyond most people. Thus they, and their agents, make awesome villains. I wonder if Sauron, faceless and monolithic in his evil, is simply Tolkien’s way of expressing this. Regardless, systems make awesome villains, and I look forward to reading more Fantasy novels that use them the way Hugo and Steinbeck and other “mainstream” writers do.

Les Miserables and Fantasy (or how Javert is the perfect modern villain)

“Reform is a discredited fantasy. Modern science tells us that people are by nature, law breakers or law abiders. A wolf could wear sheep’s clothing but he’s still a wolf.” — Javert (or rather, someone paraphrasing the character for a modern audience.)

Today I saw the movie adaptation of Les Miserable. I did not want to go. The musical, and the movie, based off Victor Hugo’s 1862 novel never fail to break me down. It is one of my favorite stories, through and through. It is unrelentingly brutal throughout, moreso because I care about the characters and their predicaments and thus really feel it when life drags them down. Many writers in modern fantasy seek after the holy grail of grittyness (likely a paper cup filled with blood and “mud”), but few can actually make me connect with their cast of misfits and anti-heroes before the suffering begins. Hugo manages to make me connect with multiple characters, even when I try not to sympathize with them (because I don’t want to cry in public ), partly because he ultimately rejects wallowing in cynicism, despite the deeply negative aspects of his setting. He is similar to Dickens and Zola in this respect.

There is much to learn from this. As society moves into the information age and begins to leave the industrial age behind it, I feel that it is one of the great tasks of Fantasy to mythologize and memorialize in the same way that it has with the classical ages, middle ages, and the enlightenment. Authors could not go wrong taking Hugo’s work as inspiration for their works in the same way that many of the grittier tales of post medieval city based fantasy seem to draw very heavily on Dickens. Les Miserables Steampunk could go wrong in so many ways but China Mieville’s tales of New Crobuzon have convinced me that it could also be quite good, in the hands of a master. It makes me wonder what Joe Abercrombie or George RR Martin would do with an early industrial fantasy tale. Perhaps I’ll give it a go after honing my writing skills on the next few Domains of the Chosen books…

The character of Javert, the antagonist in the Les Miserables is a great example of how to write a interesting villain. He is the ultimate agent of The Law, the true villain of Les Miserables, propelled by his own dark past into becoming an absolutely uncompromising man. Javert, born to criminals in a prison, feels that it is part of a man’s fundamental nature to either break or uphold the law. He does not think that any man can really change his nature, and sees all infractions, however minor, as indications of a person’s lawless nature. He does not believe in reform or redemption. Thus he sees Jean Valjean’s theft of bread (to help someone survive) as an indication that the man will do worse in the future and hounds him mercilessly. He is believable because We all know people who adhere to rigid beliefs, and we can see how these beliefs can become twisted in the face of reality, turning an otherwise admirable person into a fearsome foe. Hugo reminds us of this throughout his work. Think of Javert singing of the brilliant stars and perfect justice in the musical.

Javert makes a great villain because he is so human. He displays qualities that are tremendously admirable, and often appear in heroes in other books: iron conviction, tremendous courage, dogged persistence  and a sense of duty that would make a samurai proud. He never takes advantage of anyone. He feels he is making the world a better place by bringing order. He even goes so far as to warn Jean Valjean that his dedication to The Law means that he will pursue the man despite the fact that he owes him his life. As a twelve year old, seeing les Miz (on stage with Colm Wilkinson, who plays the Bishop in the movie) for the first time I was drawn to Javert. In many ways he is an echo of the heroes of old, a resolute defender of order, and yet he is a villain without a doubt… it always puzzled me.

After thinking about it, the Samurai comparison has helped me understand why such an admirable man is such a vicious villain. The Samurai may be perfectly honourable and dutiful  but if his master is a monster then he will be compelled to do ugly things by his duty. In this case the more perfect the Samurai, the more monstrous he becomes carrying out his corrupt lord’s orders. This is what makes Javert a villain, and I feel it demonstrates Hugo’s genius succinctly. Javert is the perfect servant of an unjust, broken system. In the end, as the inadequacy of his Master (The Law) is revealed and he is unable to carry out that last order, Javert takes the same last resort that a Samurai would. Thus he transfers from villain to victim seamlessly, in a perfect moment that demonstrates just how helpless and hopeless we all are when the great wheels of our social constructs run amok. The real evil in Les Miserables is not Javert but rather the uncaring, vicious system of public order that put a poor man behind bars for trying to feed his starving family. The idea of broken systems is one that we, in the modern world, know well, and Hugo’s grasp and demonstration of this is simply amazing.

As Fantasy moves into the later ages, we writers will take up the themes that dominate those ages. Fear of orc raids and the wars cause by oppressive aristocracies that mimicked the conflicts of the middles ages will be joined or replaced by more modern conflicts such as those shown in books like Les Miserables. You could do much worse than a villain like the paladin Javert, servant of a broken system, and I find myself eagerly looking forward to these new tales.

Orphans and the family in fantasy

It is the holidays and family is on my mind. My brother and sister are far away and I miss them.

One of the truly brilliant aspects of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series is the use of family. Mr Martin creates sprawling, complex familial relationships that spur the story into a forward motion that few books can match. He captures the dynastic, incestuous aspects of aristocratic families in a feudal society particularly well. It is one of the reasons why I love the first three books of his series like few others; that rich tapestry of what power, blood-ties, and betrayal can do to a nation is so vivid in my mind.

But this is not the norm in Fantasy. Most modern fantasies start with a protagonist who has no family, quickly loses their family, or whose family is never mentionned. The orphan is quite common in fantasy works, both intentionally as a device being used by an author and or through omission in some cases. Writing a character without having to detail their family can narrow the scope of a work to a more manageable level. In some cases, like Tolkien, family is implied or never really discussed. Frodo’s parents drowned in a boating accident which is pretty disturbing when you consider that the ring was in the shire at that point, and the parallels to Smeagol and his brother discovering the ring, but family does not really play into the story that much, although one could argue that the positive aspects family in Lord of the Rings is represented by the Shire and the four hobbits as a whole while the more complicated and darker relationships appear with Theoden/Denathor and their children. It bears closer scrutiny, but I won’t get into it here. (If you want to see some really dark aspects of Family in Middle-Earth the story of Hurin and his Children is very GRRM)

True orphans, who have lost their parents in tragic accidents, are so common as characters in fiction that it boggles my mind now that I consider it. From Batman and King Arthur to Superman and Kvothe, it is one of the tropes that everyone uses. Here are some of the advantages, aside from narrower scope, of the Orphan protagonist.

1) Built in Tragedy. Most Orphan protagonists lose their parents in horrible ways. Avenging their family often provides the main impetus of their lives in this case. A young prince who survives a royal massacre has a ready built tale to tell, and a motivation that is crystal clear and compelling to almost every reader. Batman is a great example of this, and it shows up in quite a few Fantasy characters as well.

2) Isolation. Not having a family can reinforce the sense of isolation in any narrative. People often take having familial support for granted, but those who do not have it or can’t rely on it suffer a tremendous disadvantage. This can be used effectively for heroes who need stand apart from society for dramatic purposes, like Superman. Gavin falls into this category, as Gladiators in the Domains are separated from their parents at birth, for obvious reasons. It helps me invoke some sympathy for his circumstance and reinforce the idea that the Gladiators are cut off from the rest of the world.

3. Demonstration of independence. An author can also use the lack of familial support to reinforce the character’s ability to pull themselves up by their bootstraps.

4) Freedom of action. And here we come to what I feel is the real reason most authors employ an orphan protagonist. In gritty literature/movies it is common to use threaten to hurt an character’s loved ones as a form of leverage. Families are an easy target in such cases (often leading back to #1), and a portagonist with less attachments is immune to this kind of threat. It forces his or her enemies to act against them in a more direct fashion. Even in brighter, happier stories, having fewer relationships allows a character far greater freedom to wander and do what they wish. It is an intoxicating kind of escapism to follow the adventures of a person who does not have a tangled, complex personal life with far fewer responsibilities than our own.

However, when I think of Game of Thrones and other forms of literature, where the family is often front and centre I can see how authors might be losing out by relying on the orphan protagonist. Here are a few points in favour of family in Fantasy, and more complex webs of relationships and responsibilities.

1) Brutal Antagonists: Take any of your favourite, nasty villains. Imagine them as the protagonist’s father, mother, brother, or sister. That makes great fodder for a story.

2) Broken Background: A suffering or broken family can easily be fodder for a more complex tragedy. In this case it is more of an ongoing, messy part of the narrative, but provides quite the hook if pulled off well.

3) Allies and Rivals: family creates bonds between characters. It comes with a set of implied responsibilities that are immediatly accessible to all readers. It can thus be used to create interesting rivals and allies for the protagonist.

4) Worth Defending: Families provide a character with vulnerabilities as well. A lone-wolf who takes on an assassins guild pales in comparison to a protagonist who takes on the same guild while having to keep his family safe, in my mind.

It can go either way, but the orphan is very common in the books I am reading. It reminds me of my early days as a game-master, and how every game started with a burning village.Perhaps Game of Thrones has to be credited for showing us a different path in regards to the role of the family in Fantasy fiction. I shall have to mull over it and get back to you. Have a great Christmas/Happy Holidays!

Proudly Independent (with some Hobbitses)

First off a quick Hobbit Review: I enjoyed it despite being seated near people who would not shut up at the end of the movie. The consensus among the five of us was fairly positive. A few of the scenes were over-the-top, in a bad way (shades of King Kong, Peter) but most were decently crafted. The party scene was superb and they really managed to capture the riddle game scene down amazingly well. Some of the scenes that did not appear in the book weren’t bad, but the best were pure Tolkien. Hopefully “That’ll do it” isn’t the jumping the shark moment for this Franchise. I am quite pleased so far, but not so much that I fell fully confident that the next two will rock.

Moving on.

As a self-publishing novice, I am always on the lookout for marketing advice. Any tips that I see frequently, from several trusted and varied sources, I take very seriously. Salesmanship is a little bit different than writing and world-building, and it is not a skill that I have mastered, yet (but when I do, you will all pay*). I have a few sources of wisdom from other industries I have worked in, and several friends who run creative enterprises that require marketing, so I am not entirely bereft of lore, but I still like to sit down and search through r/writing and r/self-publish and Goodreads for advice. It is a wonderful world where I can sit down and exchange knowledge with best-selling authors and neophytes struggling to get noticed with incredible ease. I love the internet.

As I noted, if I see a piece of advice come up frequently, from divergent and respected sources, I pay close attention. Most of this advice is useful, such as the idea that writing more books and short stories helps advertise your existing work; or the notion of finding blogs/groups that are likely to enjoy your book instead of just spamming every place you can find. The writing community is quite helpful, moreso than I expected it would be.

There is only one piece of advice that I recieve, over and over again, that I really disagree with. I have encountered this particular piece far and wide, starting with criticisms of my cover for Bloodlust: A Gladiator’s Tale. The basic idea is that as a self-published author you want your book to be indistinguishable from a New York publishing house. Beyond putting out a quality product that is both well written and well edited, I could not disagree more. Briefly, because I desperately want to play a video game and relax, here’s why.

1) You can’t fool the readers: Readers who shy away from self-published books are not going to be fooled. Many of the arguments on blending in are based around the idea that if your book looks like any other book in your genre then people won’t discriminate against it. Bullshit. If a reader does not like self-published books they can find out very easily if you are self-published or not. This is the information age, after all. If they are impulsive enough that they bought your book without checking who published it, then they likely don’t care.

2) Blending in might work against you: If I want a book that is exactly like one that is put out by a big publishing company, why wouldn’t I just buy one from one of their many, many authors? If your book looks exactly like all the other works in the same genre, then why would I risk going with the guy whose name does not ring a bell and who doesn’t have all the cool endorsements?

3) Indy is Cool: As the digital revolution hammers the big publishing companies, they are learning the hard way that their industry is subject to the very same changes that have rocked the other great creative enterprises. Self-published authors often point this out with a certain amount of rebellious glee. However we are making the same mistakes in some ways. In video games, comics, tabletop games, beer, and music, Indy (as in independently owned/created) has become a good association. Many people in these other fields go out of their way to invoke the positive associations of being an independent artist. I feel that as self-published authors become more confident, and their audience grows, that we will see more of them showing off their “indy cred”.

Your book should certainly look as professional as possible, but trying to blend in with bigger authors from titanic publishing companies strikes me as a questionable strategy. Self-published authors are entrepreneurial free spirits who have a right to be proud of what they have accomplished. Self-published authors have more freedom to roam, and have made great strides by not following New York’s e-book pricing ideas, I think they should make more use of our latitude. We should not try to hide our status at all, and instead adopt the label that every great entrepreneur does: Proudly Independent.

*as in pay for my books, with money.

Breaking Rules

There are tons of rules out there for new writers to follow. Many veteran authors and great writers are bursting with useful advice for curious up-and-comers. Some even try

to theorycraft entire schools of writing into existence, with varying degrees of success. Some of these pieces of advice become enshrined in the writer’s vernacular, getting

passed around from writer to author to neophyte to curious reader like folk lore. These are usually the simple rules that hold true, and a novice breaks at their own peril.

I am wary of rules, especially large systems of rigid conventions that come from deep theorycraft. I have encountered them many times in my working life, as a game designer,

tech writer, and even running games with my friends. These grand systems can become cumbersome and stifling to new blood, and many of the people involved mistake mastering

the system with mastering the actual craft that this system overlays. They cause people to agonize endlessly over place names, and key sentences, passive voice, and so on. It

is best to think of rules as guidelines, advice from the masters, and to avoid complex, constraining sets of rules that try to lock down every aspect of a craft.

Simple rules on the other hand often have great value to novices. There are handful of these, often framed in different ways depending on who is giving the advice, but they

generally hold true. Because of a certain persistent character flaw of mine, I tend view these with equal suspicion and make the mistake of ignoring them. I’m going to give

examples of a few rules from Bloodlust: A Gladiator’s Tale. In my defence, Bloodlust has a really unusual structure, jumping from place to place and following the main

character’s career on a match-by-match basis. Here are some of the rules I broke, why I broke them, and what I might to differently.

1. Skip the boring parts. As I mentioned Bloodlust follows every match in Gavin’s career, with a single match in every chapter. Time contracts and expands based on how far

apart the matches are. The Chapters vary greatly in size based on what else needs to be dropped around that match to drive the narrative. The second book, Bloodlust: Will to

Power (working title, and yes the reference is purposeful), follows the same structure, with some additional chapters (interludes) for key events. I skip the boring parts of

his life, for the most part, but I do not skip the least exciting of his matches. I break this rule because I like the structure, and because Gavin is not happy with his

life. If I skipped ahead and just included the exciting parts, he would seem whiny. I have to show how the life of a Gladiator grinds him, and I prefer to do it in a way that

precludes him just sitting around thinking or talking about it. I want to show it. What Gavin does is exciting to us, but fairly mundane to him, and I think going through

every match helps identify with his ennui. It also adds to the sports metaphor: true fans often try to catch every game of a team’s season, and players go to all of them.

(Show, don’t tell is another of those little writer’s rules so I suppose I’m breaking one to satisfy the others.). I’m not entirely sure how I would do this differently,

although perhaps writing it in in first person would have been better, allowed us to get in his head a little more.

2. A Memorable first line. Having a great first line is pretty universal advice. I wonder how many great works are left gathering dust because they have a dull first line or

how many books are never finished because of the writer agonizing over line number one until the whole thing breaks. My first line for Bloodlust isn’t brilliant, and the part that follows

is written in a slightly different style than the rest of the book. It could be stronger; I might get a few more impulse sales if it was. Still it sets the scene, and works

well enough. The first line acts as a strong hook for the reader, and many writers credit their success to polishing their skills with dynamite intro lines. I went with the

slower opening for Bloodlust because I was happy with it and got a very strong positive reaction from a few readers. I do get criticisms for it, but they mostly seem to be

from people outside the target audience. I would definitely refine it a little more in retrospect, but I can see myself slowly grinding the project to dust under the weight

of getting that memorable first line. It may be that I needed to move on quickly while initially writing the book and should have come back to polish it later. I could have

done better here, but I won’t lose any sleep over it at this point.

3. The Cover. My cover always elicits a strong reaction. People love it or hate it. Some detractors have compared it to pokemon, which amuses the crap out of me (Pokemon does

all right). The rule for covers is that you want to look like your book could be from a “New York publishing house”. I did not want to go with a painterly cover because

pictures of the characters often prejudice the readers. To be honest I also did not want to weather the inevitable attacks from people who look at sexy Gladiator gettup and

accuse me of pandering. Also I did not have 2.5k to spend on a good fantasy artist. But honestly even if I had the money, I would have gone with a similar cover. First off

the cover conveys some important ideas and elicits a strong reaction. The type of people who run away from my cover likely wont enjoy the book, I think. I think setting the

bar for self pubs as having covers as painterly as a book from a big publisher is as foolish as thinking an indy game should have graphics that rival Black Ops. In most other

industries proudly independent means something, indy rock labels and games don’t try to hide their origins, they flaunt them — why should self-published writers be any

different? its not like the readers are actually going to be fooled (or if they even care), especially in my case. Bloodlust is about fantasy gladiators, something that book

publishers have always avoided (Gladiator books should be historical fiction!). I am proud of the fact that I put this thing together with the help of some talented friends.

I think it stands up well. I want to show off the fact that it is indy. This is something I definitely would not change. In fact, I may start adding proudly independent since

2012 to the title in my books… This point deserves a bigger post actually.

Rules are useful guidelines. Breaking them likely hinders me in some ways, but I have good reasons for doing so. I would probably polish that first line a little more, but

I’d stick to my guns on most of the other rules I broke. In the end applying too many rules to creative endeavors just stifles them.

A Toast to the Dwarves!

Dwarves have always been my favorite fantasy race. This naturally made the Hobbit my favourite from Tolkien’s writings. My only real disappointment with Peter Jackson’s superb conversion of the Lord of the Rings series has always been Gimli. Despite being played by veteran character-actor John Rhys Davies, Gimli often comes off as existing purely for comic relief in the movies, the Jar Jar of the series. This portrayal did not mesh at all with my view of Gimli as a stoic, serious minded warrior whose quiet endurance and fierce loyalty were often overlooked but always needed. Honestly, I find it hard to describe how much I disliked the whole “Nobody tosses a Dwarf!” and other bits. It was like coming home to read a page of your favorite book and finding that someone had drawn some crude, juvenile comic on the back cover. Still, it is a minor gripe in an otherwise excellent series.

I like Dwarves because they are stoic, determined, and deeply passionate. They are not handsome and expressive like the elves, but rather rely on their creations to speak for them. They are stubborn and unrelenting, taking the long view. Their greatest strengths are also their greatest weaknesses, with determination. long memory, and passion often turning to dark, isolated obsession  It is my view that fantasy races are best used in an archetypal fashion, a building block that provides a point of departure for the reader, familiar or strange as suits the needs of the tale being told. Here a few of the themes that I enjoy with a side of Dwarves.

Dwarves represent our desire to build something that is greater than ourselves. Moria, The Deep Roads, That crazy throne room you want to build in Dwarf Fortress before you get over-run by zombie dire tigers or kea men. The lowly building something lasting and wondrous. It is a good theme.
Expertise and Perfectionism. Most Dwarves in traditional fantasy are renowned for their mastery of metalwork, stonework, gemcraft, and so on. Often they seem a little too obsessed with their crafts and get into trouble. In a society which pushes expertise, this is eminently relate-able.
Isolationism and Decline. The Dwarves don’t trust outsiders, who seek to steal their secrets and their riches. They have much to teach the world, and also much to learn that could help stave off their decline. I wonder what their version of the TSA is like.
History and Memory. In Fantasy its Dwarves who remember, not elephants (hmmm, that sounded better in my head. I do these posts in one shot with very little editing as you can tell…). Be it grudges or the greatness of their ancestors, Dwarves value tradition and history in a way that makes the rest of us cringe or envy them.

The Hobbit movie will bring Dwarves to the big screen in spectacular fashion. With thirteen Dwarves in the cast we will see more than a little variety of personalities and I hope some of the added scenes incorporate Dwarven hostory and culture. Aside from Tolkien, Dwarves have enjoyed something of a comeback in modern Fantasy. Here are a few of my favourite iterations of Dwarves in the modern day.

Dwarf Fortress: DF is a mad, mad game. It is an epic simulation, entirely free-to-play, created and maintained by two brothers who live off donations from the game’s mighty following. The graphics and the UI are about the only things about this beast of a game that is unimpressive. Everything else is masterfully detailed and constantly, obsessively updated from world generation to the wonderful, brilliant narrative that is created as your Dwarves recreate important scenes from history (including their lives, in game!) in their arts, from the mundane to the tragic and triumphant. It is not a game that players play to win and often your most brilliant plans are the key to your inevitable downfall. (Mods, like Meph’s Masterwork additions add even more depth to this game, and the community is just awesome)
Dragon Age: The Dwarves in Dragon age are the last remnants of a truly impressive empire. They built a huge civilization based around the Deep Roads, a transportation system that is the origin of much of the dungeon delving in DA. They are a culture in vicious decline, divided between decadent nobles and desperate commoners with a proud history and a nearly non-existent future. Dragon Age two added a little twist to this with the surface Dwarf Verric, who integrates into human culture. He is the unreliable narrator of the story, a savvy, cynical operator who bucks the Dwarven stereotypes without rejecting their culture.
The Dwarves Series by Marcus Heitz: This German Author expands on Tolkien’s Dwarves and adds some modern elements. Dwarves are front and centre in the narrative, with the history of the five clans of Dwarves (more, lost clans are added later) informing the plot and action. While some of the writing (or is it the translation?) is stilted, the series is quite entertaining, especially the first two books.
Steampunk Dwarves: Dwarves have always been the builders of the Fantasy mythos. With the addition of industrialist elements to Fantasy, we see this race on the forefront. Foremen of factories in coal-blackened cities or builders of steam-golems and might train networks, the steampunk era promises to be an interesting one for Dwarves.
The Ryria Revelations: Michael J Sullivan takes the standard Dwarven tropes and progresses them a little bit. Instead of a civilization in decline they are broken and bitter, prevented from integrating or rebuilding by prejudice and yet always in demand for certain skills.

In Bloodlust, Dwarves have been absorbed by the grinding colonial imperialism of the Domains of the Chosen. They still have a stronger connection to their past than many of the other races, mostly due to the common idea that Dwarves keep better records and build to last. But other than this they have integrated into the Domains better than any other race: Being part of a Great, Growing Empire again probably feels good, after all and the ordered culture of the Domains would seem to appeal to some aspects of the Dwarven Character…

Dwarves are a well-worn trope, and I love them. I fully expect the dark corners of the internet to come alive with the grumbles and vomitous excretions decrying that Tolkien is dated and Dwarves are cliche and how we need more gritty books about assassins with dark, shadowy figures in cloaks on the covers (not that there’s anything wrong with that). But I am still looking forward to parking my cynicism for a few hours and watching the Hobbit bring Tolkien’s version of this old, awesome fantasy trope to life on the big screen. Hopefully I can get the lads together for this one, and hoist a mug in real life as well…

The Writer’s Market: What I’ve learned and what I would do differently.

The world of writing is a fascinating place these days. It is easier than ever to communicate with (most) of your favourite writers and read what they have to say about how to chase after success as an author. It is also simpler to find the people who make their living writing novels (or novellas/short stories), but might not be super-famous or tremendously wealthy (yet). The first thing that struck me was how easy it is to publish a book now. Writing a book is probably a little bit easier than it used to be, but self-publishing on amazon and other sites has simply removed the gatekeepers from the equation. If you can’t get an agent or publisher to pick up your work you can give it a go on your own. Of course, it goes without saying, that many books that are passed up by the Publishers/Agents are ignored because they aren’t very well written or appeal to a very small audience.

As I noted, it is easy to publish now, but it is harder to get noticed among the flood of titles. Most amazon titles earn around 350$ in a year, and while an author/publisher does not have to risk a huge investment in advance anymore 350$ is still a pathetic return on the time it takes to write a book as well as a tremendous blow to the ego. I suspect the later is more important to a writer. I want people to read and like my book, more than just about anything. The pure satisfaction I get when someone tells me they like it, is only surpassed by the feeling of accomplishment that I felt when I finished that first draft. So I’d say that getting noticed is a major hurdle for any author, especially one who does not have a major publisher promoting for them.

As an aside, the second thing that struck me, which I won’t get into here is just how much many publishers/agents/etc resent eBooks and self-published authors. It is an industry in turmoil; a war-zone full of vicious words, resistance to change, and lamentation.

The writer’s market fascinates me. I do so love an industry in flux. I have read quite a bit of theorycraft on how to market and promote my work. I tend to be very suspicious of most of the advice I get, unless I have a rapport with the source. Many people who succeed make the mistake of viewing their life and behaviour as a recipe to perfectly replicate their success. I’ve seen what sort of mindset that nonsensical view can create, and I’m pretty good at sniffing it out. If someone cannot explain why they think their advice works in a way that makes sense to me, I don’t listen to them. If I find multiple, disparate sources preaching similar advice I tend to sit up and notice. Here are some of the things that I have learned about the writer’s market and how I would change my initial strategy based on what I know now. (Take all of this with a grain of salt, of course, I am still just a newbie)

#1 Write More. No, really. This is by far the most consistent advice that I have heard. From successful self-published authors to many of the big names in Fantasy, I have come across this consistently  Many new authors are now writing several books before diving into the world of writing, just to generate additional interest. Here are some of the reasons why I have heard that this is of paramount importance.

Your books act as advertisements for your other books. Each book you put up on amazon or other sites points to your other books.Some authors feel that this is so important that they will put up short stories featuring characters from their main works as well. It certainly helps with search engines.

Since it is so easy for people to publish a book now, readers are often unimpressed by self-published work. Having more books helps convince those readers that you are serious.

If you have written a series you can run promotions on a single book on that series and enjoy a bump in sales on the other parts.

More works = more reviews

Blogging is also part of this, if people run into your blog and like it, it acts as an ad as well (hint!, hint!)

Had I known this, I mean really understood it when I wrote Bloodlust #1 I probably would have split the first book into two regularly sized novels and released the second one fairly quickly. As it is I’m torn between releasing #2 as two smaller, cheaper works or just continuing on as I am.

#2 Keywords, Titles and Tags. It is of paramount importance that you choose the right keywords so that your eBook comes up on the searches that people your target audience are going to make. These often overlooked but very important nonetheless. If you have written a book with Dragons in it, and don’t tag it with Dragons or have Dragons in the title then you potentially lose out every time someone uses the search term Dragon. Google analytics can be somewhat helpful for this.

Some veteran authors/publishers who want to cash in big, or just want to get as wide an audience as they can for a particular work will craft a title from the big buzzwords in their genre. Others will try to get ahead of the curve and guess what the next big terms are.

Bloodlust isn’t about Dragons, Assassins, Shadows or anything like that so I don’t find this advice that useful. On the other hand Bloodlust does kind of make my book sound like an urban fantasy vampire book so maybe I’d change that slightly or make Sadira a vampire…

#3 When to Promote. Established authors often heavily promote their work, but most people say that you should hold off heavy promotion until you are have at least 3 books ready to go. Promotion can be time consuming, especially for a self-published author so this really makes sense. Maximize your efforts by promoting once you have more to show off.

These are all fairly simple, but they come up so frequently that they are worth considering, at least. The big change in my game-plan would have been to split Bloodlust#1 into two regular sized, cheaper priced novels and release the second six months later. This would give me a great increase in exposure and take some of the pressure off for Bloodlust #2…

Mind you the cynical part of me wonders if, armed with this knowledge I might have run out and written a book about a wizard-assassin who works for a cabal of dragons, from the shadows, of course

Tolkien, Straw Men, and Gyges

Next week, the first installment of the Hobbit hits the big screen. With “Geek culture” on the rise this set of movies might be even bigger the Lord of the Rings.I actually

prefer the Hobbit to Lord of the Rings, as books. I reserve judgement on the Hobbit movie, however, since Peter Jackson is expanding the story significantly. He said he is

using Tolkien’s notes, but there is a reason much of the thousands upon thousands of pages of notes did not make it into the novels. On the other hand, Tom Bombadil. I’m

certainly not a Tolkien purist, and Mr Jackson has shown tremendous skill and care for the source material as well as knowing what to cut. I am excited. Too bad my sister has

to go back to the sunless North before it comes out. In fact I should get working on being super-successful so I can afford to fly my siblings and their S.Os home for the

final movie…

Where was I?

Tolkien. Much beloved and yet often maligned, Tolkien is a constant topic of discussion in Fantasy circles. He did not invent the genre as certain “critics”, who seem to be

drafted to write the obligatory “Tolkien was influential, but not really good” pieces that show up whenever the series makes news, think. Homer, The Epic of Gilgamesh, The

Faerie Queen, La Morte D’Arthur, and many others can vie for that honour. But not Tolkien. The professor was not trying to invent something new, but rather very consciously

wanted to popularize a much older Genre and tickle the curiosity of modern audiences. His students found his lectures on Beowulf and the Old Angle Saxon heroes boring. This

is often blamed on Tolkien’s notoriously poor teaching habits, but I wonder how much of it is due to the audiences of the day not being primed for that kind of literature.

Seriously, If I was to read Beowulf for a class, it would not matter how boring the prof was: I love it, even in olde form. Imagine what you would put up with in order to be

able to watch and discuss Star Wars, Dune, the Dresden Files, or The Name of the Wind in a class. I know the dullest person alive would not be able to dim that experience for

some of my friends. Tolkien made those old works accessible again. The Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit acted as a primer for the interests of millions of readers. Once they

read Tolkien, many of the elements if the older tales became immediately more accessible because of way Tolkien presented those ideas in a solid, compelling tale. For someone

who is into the songs, ancient languages, and histories of middle earth Beowulf isn’t that intimidating, even in its original form. Tolkien made all of that lore more

accessible in a time when people weren’t really that concerned with it and thus set the stage for modern fantasy.

Even so, many Fantasy authors tend to try hard to distance themselves from Tolkien. Some even go so far as to actively attack his venerable works. Some certainly have

legitimate criticisms, but many of Tolkien’s detractors are simply the type of people who edify their own works by trashing others.The worst of these make a straw man out of

Tolkien, not even bothering to read the work or give it serious thought. Im not thinking readers here, who often find Tolkien dry in comparison to more modern works which are

much better tuned to modern sensibilities. I’m writing about serious critics and authors who want to diminish a work of critical importance to the genre, and often fall back

to the same series of overworn arguments which fall flat to me; especially now that I have re-read the books as an adult and written my own novel.

First off, Racism. This is an easy one actually. Occasionally you will see some unlettered tool go after Professor Tolkien for having “evil races” which are obviously allegories for real-world races etc etc. This doesn’t even require a close reading to throw out the window. Orks, for example, are elves that have been tortured and twisted by Morgoth/Sauron. The experience implied is quite disturbing, and bears no resemblance to anything that has happened in history (yet, though see transhumanism).

Secondly, many people criticize Tolkien for not killing off enough characters. They say victory comes too easily and that the whole series is reduced to the level of a child’s story because of this. I say bullshit. Very few authors have written off characters in a way that effects me at all, Tolkien managed two with Boromir and Theoden-King which bring a tear to my eye to this day. The key here is quality, not quantity. If I barely have time to connect with a character then why would I even care if the writer kills them? Frequently I am turned off books when a writer introduces a character just to be killed or kills a character just to show off. Tolkien manages to break my heart by killing characters who I actually care about, and whom you can tell he cared about as well. It is a lesson that I wish more writers would take to heart.

The worst of all are the pithy critics who honour Tolkien as the “father of the genre” but relegate him to the back shelf in modern day, noting that is basically a children’s fable, outclassed by more serious works. These people likely read Tolkien as a child (if at all) or don’t have the philological background required to see the depth of the work. Take power as an example. The theme of power and corruption in Lord of the Rings, and even the Hobbit, flows deep. The catalyst of the book is the one ring, occasionally called the ring of power. Tolkien goes through the history of the ring, how Sauron used it to corrupt the kings of men and dwarves into serving him, how after Sauron’s defeat it corrupts Isuldur, and how eventually it found its way to the hobbit Smeagol, whom it corrupted into Golum. This all happens as backstory. As a child you could be forgiven for glossing over it. Isuldur is probably just a loser anyways, right? And here’s where the ring of Gyges comes in. The ring of Gyges is from a story in Plato’s republic, a famous discussion about the corrupting nature of power. The ring had the ability to turn the wearer invisible. In the republic the positions taken are that a) such a power would corrupt any man and b) that a man who uses the ring becomes a slave to it, while the man who refuses it remains whole and happy. Tolkien was educated in a system that still valued the classics and would have been very familiar with the Ring of Gyges. It is not at all coincidental. It is not even hidden. You can read the entire lord of the ring series as a discussion of what happens when someone is FORCED (by duty) to carry the “ring of power”. It adds a surprising amount of depth to the story. This is just one aspect. Denethor and Wormtongue also bear some serious scrutiny. It is also worth noting that the ring starts corrupting Bilbo, corrupts Boromir, and eventually corrupts even Frodo. No one is immune, and only the very best can even refuse it.

To leave off on a thoughtful note: while the wise did choose Frodo because they thought he could resist the ring for a while, one must also ask if they also chose him because the price of his corruption would be bearable. After all the Third age could probably bear another Golum, but not another Witch King or another Sauron… and I’m fairly certain that a man who considered his world from every angle would see that as well as I do.