(Just because cat pictures and videos are the only thing more popular than porn on the internet). 😛
A concept that’s being lost in this postmodern (or is it post-postmodern?) world is the idea of the metanarrative: the idea that meaning is conveyed through the anticipated completion of a currently unrealized master plan. This is ironic because many modern stories still make heavy use of destiny. I think that shows there’s a longing for a metanarrative.
People, especially writers, use book and/or story metaphors to describe their lives. “I’m starting the next chapter of my life,” they might say. Bob Seger’s famous song “Turn the Page” arguably implies life is a book. The best stories are ones with structure and purpose, so that means our lives also have structure and purpose. If our lives are stories, there must be a storyteller. Some call him God while others call him fate or destiny, among other names. There is comfort in that, assuming you believe the storyteller is a good one.
But thanks to cynicism, many people see life as either a pointless meandering or something to which they must add their meaning (if I wasn’t a Christian, the latter would be my philosophy). In other words, proponents of the latter write their stories. They grab life by the horns and wrestle it into submission. I’d argue that even then they still believe in some sort of metanarrative; just one they’re writing one themselves, supposedly.
I sometimes wonder how my characters would react to me, the author, since I ultimately control their fates. Yes, I like to say they “talk” to me (all authors are slightly insane), but in the end, I’m the one who decides what happens to them. I made s joke on my Facebook page that I stopped writing Hope’s War once this week with the villain being held at gunpoint, so must be annoyed with me. The thing is, if he knew what my (current) plans are for him, he might murder me, assuming he was real (he isn’t, is he?) 😛
All this to ask, Do you ever feel like you’re in a bad story?
We’ve seen/read/played plenty of terrible tales, from B-movies to dime store novels. We criticize them for their atrocious plots, disappointing endings, and obnoxious characters. But often I think we feel the same about our own lives. If the last decade has shown us anything, it’s that life doesn’t always go how we planned. We work hard but aren’t rewarded for it. The hero doesn’t always get the girl. If you’re like me, you’ve either feel like you’re in a bad story, a tragedy, or you’re an unimportant bit character. You can’t expect a happy ending because life isn’t a fairy tale.
But I’m here to say have faith in the Storyteller: He’s not done writing yet.
Someone giving up on life because they hate the script they’ve been handed would be like Luke Skywalker telling Obi-Wan Kenobi, “Screw you! I’m not cut out to be a Jedi!” Or Frodo succumbing to the One-Ring (okay, I know that kinda happened, but you get my drift). Their stories weren’t over yet. Whether they knew it or not, they were being guided by a storyteller to beautiful destiny.
There’s a joke among writers that says…well, I posted a meme of it. It might seem trite, but there’s truth in it. Did you lose your job? See it as a challenge to overcome. You have “readers” (Hebrews 12:1) who are pulling for you. Have you ever wanted to quit reading a book or watching a movie only for it to surprise you with how good the ending was? That could be any of our lives.
It’s that time of the year when people regret all the food they ate between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve and decide they need to go to gym to lose the extra pounds—only to quit by Valentine’s Day (another reason V-Day is the worst holiday ever!)
All that to say everyone makes resolutions for the coming year (including the Children of the Wells writers and their characters), and I’m no different. My list would include stuff like:
-Finish writing Hope’s War.
-Read the 20 or so books sitting on my bedpost (at least).
-Publish at least one new book.
-Pay off more of my student loans.
-Start grad school, if possible.
But there’s something I’ve thought about doing around this time for several years. Sometimes I do a bit of it, but not enough. In fact, it weighed so heavily on me during the Christmas season it kept me awake one night (thanks, God). 😛 What is that?
Downsizing.
Now, I’m not a pack rat who needs to go on Hoarders (though I know people who should). However, I do tend to hang onto stuff that has sentimental value and/or I think I’ll be able to use later. I have sizable DVD/Blu-ray, book, and video game collections, and while I have trimmed those down a bit (they could stand a little more), what I specifically need streamlined is my toys.
Yes, toys.
As a kid, I collected several series of playthings, some of which are probably genuine collectors’ items (Transformers, Star Trek, etc.), but many were only popular at the time (like Z-Bots and Superhuman Samurai Syber-Squad). I have most of these stashed in several trunks. I don’t keep them because I play with them, obviously, so the toys’ purposes are defeated. I thought at one point I might share them with my own kids, but I don’t know if or when that will happen. So, at the moment, they just take up space that should be freed up. I’m a storyteller now, hence why my focus is more on books and movies, and not a kid or a toy collector. I haven’t bought a toy in years.
He kinda looks like me, actually. (Image courtesy of Tumblr).
Unfortunately, I’m like Andy from the Toy Story films. I don’t want my toys—most of which I slaved to keep in good condition—to go to just anybody. I want to give them good homes; I want them to go to people who will cherish them the same way I did; people like a collector or an appreciative kid. (Wow! That was an excessive use of semicolons!) I know, it sounds weird. It sounds like I’m talking about a pet I can’t keep. These are just toy—hunks of sculpted plastic (and a sometimes metal). They’re not alive. Well, technically they’re not. But when I was a kid, with my wild imagination, I made them come to life. They were “friends” I had adventures with; characters in whatever goofy stories I would cook up on the spot (that might partially explain my zany mind). They were the avatars of my brainchildren. (Though some I keep because of the people who gave them to me, like deceased grandparents).
That’s the thing, though: What I cherish most are the memories those playthings gave me. It isn’t necessarily the things themselves. But barring a traumatic brain injury, I’ll never lose those memories. If they gave me this much joy, they can do the same for new owners.
I just want to make sure I find the right ones, is all. 😛
(No wonder the Toy Story films appeal to me on many levels).
Normally, I’d be writing something Christmassy, but I think I’ll save that for next week. I wanted to write about this a few weeks ago, but wasn’t able to find the time. Why? Because that’s when I saw a movie called God Bless America.
Don’t let the title fool you; it’s supposed to be ironic. This 2011 indie film made a splash on the film festival scene. I vaguely remember hearing about it back then, but completely forgot about it until I visited a friend who was watching it on Netflix. I missed the first five minutes or so, but I was quickly able to surmise what was going on.
This movie, written and directed by Bobcat Goldthwait, is a satire of American culture. It follows an angry man with an apparently terminal brain tumor and his psychotic teenage girl sidekick as they go on a cross-country killing spree eliminating people they find mean and/or despicable. It takes potshots at reality TV, the religious right, and conservatives. Yet for all its sound and fury, it says nothing. In fact, I found this to be the most pretentious and hypocritical movie I’ve ever seen.
It is less a story and more a rambling, angry diatribe where Goldthwait uses the “characters” as mouthpieces. He bombards us with constant monologues declaring that modern American pop culture is shallow, mean, and stupid. I’m inclined to agree on many points, but they don’t need to be pounded into my head every five minutes through profanity-strewn speeches. It’s the sort of thing people—myself included—complain about with Christian-made movies (i.e. constant preaching), but here it seems many viewers applaud it. I say it kills what little story the movie has and buries what good ideas it presents. Even then, the movie feels more like a wish fulfillment than a story. As the so-called “heroes” go on their killing spree—with little or no suspense, I might add—I got the impression this was Goldthwait living vicariously, that he actually wanted to murder reality TV personalities for the crime of being petty.
Therein lies the heart of my problem with the movie. It might be a satire (I use that term loosely because I rarely laughed), but the movie offers no solutions to the cultural problems other than violence and death. In other words, Goldthwait is advocating a Nazi-esque “final solution.” Those who are seen as purveyors of cultural downfall should be killed. Not only is this overblown and unjust, it begs the question, “Why do you think you know who deserves life or death?” I threw that question mostly at the movie’s characters, but it applies just as much to Goldthwait. What makes it worse is there are never any mention of killing truly evil people—serial killers, criminals, etc.—who, I’d argue, do real damage to society. Nope, instead the audience is forced to watch reality TV stars, religious zealots (who are obviously inspired by West Borough Baptist Church), and conservative TV talk show hosts be murdered for being “mean.” All while being preached at by the antiheroes. Heck, they even murder a group of teenagers for looking at their cell phones and talking in a movie threatre!
I might’ve been able to stomach this had the “heroes” realized later that they were becoming who they hated, or perhaps even worse. It would’ve introduced thought-provoking conflict and moral dilemmas. I expected them to commit suicide after realizing how far they’d fallen. Instead, they die in a police shootout while murdering the hosts of an American Idol-type show on live TV.
If the characters’ speeches are analyzed, it reveals many oversights and discrepancies. For someone who purported itself as smart, Goldthwait comes across as a pseudo-intellectual. The characters assume all Christians are mean because they won’t allow homosexuals to get married. Then Roxy sings (not literally, thankfully) the praises of Alice Cooper, saying he was doing things like writing songs about death and wearing dresses before everyone else. At least three times during this speech, I said to her, “And you’d kill him because he’s a Christian.” Frank lounges on a sofa and watches TV only to be bombarded with stupid commercials and shows, but it never occurs to him to shut the thing off and read a book. Each speech seems to indict just about every group one can think of as responsible for America’s downfall and worthy of death, which is bad enough, but then I realized they never attack politically liberal groups. Goldthwait might’ve been able to garner legitimacy if he was evenhanded.
In the end, this movie was an obnoxious diatribe that pointed out scores of problems but offered no hope or solutions. It’s pure nihilism. (I would say more if I could, but that would require I re-watch this dreck).
If you want to see a film that satirizes modern culture that isn’t hypocritical and is actually funny, watch Idiocracy. It won’t leave you feeling like a depressed snob.
A female Fifth Doctor from Gen-Con 2014. (FYI: I’m not against women cosplaying the Doctor. It’s cute). (Photo by Nathan Marchand)
My apologies, fair readers, for neglecting to blog last week and for posting this one late. I was busy last week, what with the holidays and giving a science fiction presentation last week at the Roanoke Library. Perhaps I’ll post two blogs this week to make up for it.
I’d originally intended to write about something else, but with the brewing, well, brouhaha over this topic, I felt I should say something. If you’re not a Whovian (fan of Doctor Who), feel free to skip this post. It’s one of my favorite franchises, so I felt I should give my thoughts on the matter.
Recently, some fans have been clamoring for a female Doctor. At the risk of sounding sexist and/or misogynistic (FYI: I am neither), this is a bad idea. Here my reasons why.
1) It’s motivated by political correctness
No matter what showrunner Steven Moffat or anyone else says, the big reason this is getting pushed is because of political correctness. The Doctor has been male all his life. Making him a woman is nothing more than an attempt to placate an outspoken minority of women (and possibly feminists?) who, apparently, think they need to be represented by the character. It’s stupid, perhaps even insulting. It assumes women can’t enjoy a good story unless it features a female character(s). The Hobbit films made the same mistake adding a lady elf to the cast who wasn’t in the book because they thought it’d attract a female audience. The truth is that a good story can and should be enjoyed by everyone regardless of the characters’ ethnicity, age, and/or gender. Making the Doctor a woman because it might appeal to a female audience is shortsighted.
2) Gender is not interchangeable
I could be wrong on this, but I wonder if making the Doctor female is at least partially inspired by this modern notion that men and women aren’t that different (other than their “plumbing”). This idea is, in general, false. The differences between men and women go beyond reproductive organs and hormones. There are huge differences emotionally, mentally, and psychologically. Men and women think differently. Gender and sexuality isn’t some tabula rasa (“blank slate”). Much, if not most, of it is innate. There seem to be exceptions because of the corruption of sin. God created mankind male and female (Genesis 1:27). (I realize I’m talking about fictional aliens here, but its born out of ideas related to humans). To suddenly switch that is an insult to both genders.
3) Ruins the “romantic” appeal
I was chewed out a bit in a Facebook group for saying this, but I know this is true. One of the appeals of Doctor Who (particularly the new series) is that it’s a romantic fantasy. A handsome and mysterious man who comes to young women and offers to take them on fantastical adventures. While not every Companion falls in love with the Doctor (precious few don’t on the new series), this appeals to men because they want to be the man who leads the adventure, and women want to be taken on adventures. By making the Doctor a woman, this dynamic is ruined. Either she asks (or drags) men on adventures, which won’t appeal to a male audience, or she’ll ask other women to join her, effectively making the show a “chick flick,” thereby alienating the male audience. This sounds harsh, but it’s reality.
4) It’d alienate old-school fans
Doctor Who has been around for over 50 years. Like it or not, that means the franchise has built traditions, and those aren’t easily broken. One of those is the Doctor being male. By changing that, many, if not most, longtime fans who’ve been watching since the days of Tom Baker (or longer) will abandon the series. It wouldn’t be the show they loved. It’s hard enough keeping people on board after the Doctor regenerates—adding a gender swap would be killer.
5) More backlash if and when “she” regenerates back into a man
The flipside of the issue would be the backlash that would probably come if and when the hypothetical female Doctor regenerated back into a man. You can bet accusations of sexism would get thrown around. Feminists would probably say something about the show going back to its “chauvinist roots.” If this was being done because the female Doctor wasn’t well-received and, much like what happened with Colin Baker in the 1980s, she was being quickly replaced, this controversy would kill the show.
6) Female versions are usually either new characters or reboots
Gender swaps have been done before with traditionally male characters, but in most of those cases those were either brand new separate characters or part of a reboot. For example, in the mid-2000s, Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, seemed to die at the end of “Avengers Disassembled,” a tragic storyline published by Marvel Comics. A young woman who had admired Barton then took up his name/mantle and became a superheroine in his honor. Or when SyFy rebooted Battlestar Galactica, Starbuck was a woman. The former worked well and the latter, while weird, also worked for most people. But since the 12 (or 13, depending on how you look at it) incarnations of the Doctor are technically the same person, it wouldn’t get a pass. Now, if the Doctor passed on his name to a worthy Time Lady as his dying act, I think fans could support that. (Sidenote: Ever seen a traditionally female character becomes a man?)
7) Difficult to write (and cast?) well
I’m not saying a female Doctor wouldn’t have the Doctor’s trademark quirks and witticisms, but I’d argue the usual challenges faced with recasting the Doctor—age, appearance, costume, etc.—would be worse and judged more harshly. If a young actress is cast, will that alienate older fans? Should she dress and/or act sexy? Some fans already object to how some the female Companions have been eye candy, so you can bet there’d be an uproar if the same happened with a female Doctor. Her every word and action would be scrutinized. (This isn’t to say there aren’t any actresses out there who play the part, though).
8) Need more nonviolent male heroes
As someone pointed out on the Fans For Christ Facebook page, one of the things that makes the Doctor great is he is an nonviolent hero. Most other famous fictional heroes—James Bond, Superman, Aragorn, etc.—distinguish themselves in battle. They aren’t bad characters, but the Doctor differentiates himself from them by using his intelligence and wits to save the day. This is a great thing for boys to see and admire so as to remember that not everything can be solved through violence.
9) Oversteps the limits of regeneration
While the concept of regeneration has been around since the First Doctor, the rules surrounding it have been murky. Except for a few throwaway lines implying a gender swap was possible through it, it never happened until this season when it was learned the villainous Master had become a woman (I argue this is open to interpretation). Regardless, I say a gender swap is beyond what regeneration can do. It makes sense that things like hair color, eye color, and body build can change because that’s still using the basic building blocks available. Swapping genders means adding whole new organs, glands, and hormones. In other words, it’s going from a renovation to a complete teardown and rebuilding. That’s ridiculous, even for Doctor Who.
10) Lesbianism (or Bisexuality)
As said, a staple of the new series has been Companions falling in love with the Doctor (to date only one hasn’t). If the Doctor becomes a woman, would she still have her old attractions, or would they switch too? Doctor Who is a family show, and despite Britain having a liberal definition of what constitutes such a program, I doubt a lesbian or bisexual Doctor would be deemed acceptable. Yes, there have been oblique pro-gay lines in the series sometimes, but most of those go over kids’ heads. And yes, there was Captain Jack, but even he wasn’t allowed to go full-throttle homosexual on Doctor Who (that was saved for Torchwood, which was an adult show). Again, it’s asking for trouble.
These are purely my opinions. You are welcome to disagree. If you’re a Whovian, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this subject, whether you agree with me or not. Please leave comments so we can discuss it.
Thanksgiving is often the forgotten holiday. It’s mainly seen as a day of gluttony and football. It’s meant to be a time to reflect on what one is grateful for having (and hopefully not being a hypocrite the next day for Black Weekend, er, Friday).
So as is my tradition, here are what I’m thankful for this year.
What are you thankful for?
Jesus Christ, who died for me and saved me.
The Bible.
My wonderful family (Mom, Dad, Josiah, Jarod, Sarah).
My amazing grandmother, Ruth, who is in her 90s and still going.
Most writers have “strange” habits when they write. One of the less strange ones is listening to music. I know many writers who do this, including myself. Some, however, find it distracting and prefer to work in silence.
For me it serves as “white noise” that helps me shut the rest of the world out and focus on crafting my story. I prefer to listen to music that has no lyrics because lyrics tend to pull me into the music and away from storytelling. Again, this isn’t true of every writer. I read in his book On Writing that Stephen King listens to ‘80s metal bands like AC/DC when he writes (which explains a lot). Regardless, that’s why I love listening to soundtracks, whether they be for films or video games. That’s music being used to supplement a story or in many cases tell a story. It helps keep my creative juices flowing. If it’s the right song, I can “hear” it playing in the background while my characters are performing their actions.
Heck, I’m listening to a few OC Remixes as I write this blog. 😛
I try to stick with soundtracks that befit the story I’m writing. My go-to albums for my writing of Hope’s War (the sequel to my first novel, Pandora’s Box) include the Tron: Legacy Soundtrack by Daft Punk, the Man of Steel Soundtrack by Hans Zimmer, and Mega Man X: Maverick Rising (a 5-disc album of Mega Man X video game remixes produced by OC Remix). All of these have strong science fiction themes and elicit emotions ranging from triumph to despair. They help get in touch with the characters so I know how to tell their stories (which makes me and other writers sound like schizophrenics, but that’s a topic for another day).
But sometimes songs have lyrics that fit beautifully with the story I’m writing. For Pandora’s Box I actually assembled an unofficial soundtrack for it (and even burned it to a CD to give to a writer friend). So far I’ve only found one song like that for Hope’s War: “Iridescent” by Linkin Park.
(Ignore the obvious Transformers tie-ins).
In fact, the first scene I ever conceived for the book—and one I’ve yet to write—came to me while I was listening to this song. Its melancholy hope inspired imagery both beautiful and terrifying. Another one of their songs, “Wretches and Kings,” inspired a chapter title in the book. Those are a few of the many reasons why “A Thousand Suns” is my favorite Linkin Park album (yes, I know that makes me weird). 😛
Do you like to listen to music while writing? If so, what genres and/or artists? Why those?
Pizza Hut recently unveiled 17—yes, 17—new pizzas and several other new products in an effort to appeal to a younger demographic (and become the Subway of pizzerias?). I’ve tried several of these new products, and they are tasty. The problem is they have ridiculous names. Some sound like titles for cheesy workout videos, like the Skinny Beach, Skinny Club, and Skinny with a Kick. One of my favorites is the Buffalo State of Mind, which on their computer screens is shortened to “Buff State of Mind.” That sounds like an exercise video hosted by Arnold Schwarzenegger that will prepare you to go to the Skinny Beach and join the Skinny Club.
That, however, isn’t what I’m writing about today.
What follows is a transcript for a fictional ‘70s exploitation action film using the names of other new Pizza Hut products (they’ll be in bold). No joke. That’s how goofy these names sound.
Enjoy!
In a ‘hood where a restaurant doubles as a whorehouse, Pretzel Piggy, the fattest and tannest pimp in Harlem, gets rich forcing his girls cook meals and sell their bodies as dessert. Even the cops turn their backs because his women were sweeter than donuts.
Now three of his hottest hookers are fighting back!
Ginger Boom-Boom, the black babe with a shotgun!
Ginger: I’m gonna smack that fake bake offa Piggy’s face!
Sweet Sriracha Dynamite, the roller derby girl who loves pipebombs almost as much she does skates!
Dynamite: I’m a recipe for disaster!
Cherry Pepper Bombshell, the femme fatale who’ll seduce you and then stab you in the back—literally!
Cherry: For the last time, I use a knife, not cherry bombs!
Nothing can satisfy their hunger for justice. These sisters-in-arms won’t stop until they find Pretzel Piggy and blow his house down!
My writing productivity has been hampered lately. The big reasons for that have been that my laptop is getting fixed (again!) and my day job, despite being part-time, has delayed me from reviewing the TV shows, among other things, that I normally review for Examiner.
But there’s another reason why, albeit a good and necessary one:
Promotion.
When a writer is self-published or with a small publishing house like I am, he does most of the promotion for his books on his own (heck, even writers with big publishers have to promote themselves). He has to update his websites and social media with links to new books (like I did yesterday with Destroyer: Deluxe Edition). Then he have to share that everywhere. For me, I barely have time for Facebook, let alone Tumblr or Twitter (I’d hire someone to tweet for me and give him the title, “Nate Marchand’s official twit”). Heck, even keeping up with a weekly blog post is a pain. Sometimes I miss a week or post it later (I try to post every Thursday), and that’s just when I don’t have other announcements to mention—like my book signing this weekend. (See how I keep promoting myself!) 😛
Also, as a self-published author, I have to do all the cool but mundane things I normally take for granted, like design my book’s exterior and interior. I have to design the cover myself or hire someone to do it. Depending on the website I use, getting artwork to fit may be a chore. For the interior, I can format it—often two times if I make a print book and an e-book, the latter of which can be a chore—find and download fonts, & convert to different file types. And before I even get to this I have to edit the book myself, which will mean commissioning beta readers to edit it.
Like I said, all the stuff you don’t think about you must do. The writer becomes editor, artist, salesman, and graphic designer. That’s a lot of hats to juggle!
Don’t think I’m complaining, because I’m not. I enjoy these things. It expands my skillset. I’m a shameless self-promoter, so that comes naturally. But when I’m doing all those things, I’m not able to write, and that sometimes makes me feel guilty. All these stories bouncing around in my brain like balls on Pong—it’s nerve-wracking! You know what it’s like having fictional characters yell at you for not telling their stories? It’s almost like being schizophrenic! They’d rather I do that than get people to read their stories. Well, sometimes they do.
So, if you want to be a writer because it’s glamorous, go become a doctor. Writing is work. Fun work, yes, but a lot of work. It’s not for the faint of heart.
(My apologies, readers. I’d meant to post this before October 31, first as a video and then as a blog. Neither happened, but I hope you’ll enjoy reading it anyway, because I thought I owed it to you). 🙂 It’s that time of the year again. The air gets nippy. The leaves burst into fiery colors and tumble to the ground. The days are shorter. It’s a bit…spooky. Sing it with me now! “This is Halloween! This is Halloween!” The holiday isn’t complete with scary movies. Admittedly, I’m not the biggest consumer of fright flicks, but that’s most because most of the new ones are stupid (as I discuss in this GigaGeek Magazine article and this episode of “But I Digress…”). However, there are some that I truly love. If you’re looking for a few films to marathon through after the kids are done trick-or-treating, I highly recommend these.
#5: John Carpenter’s The Thing
This terrifying remake of a ‘50s B-movie is one of the smartest horror films I’ve ever seen. It has none of the stereotypical idiot characters. While it does have gross gore and freakish creatures, the real terror comes from the isolated Antarctic location and the paranoia that rips a tightly-knit science team apart as a shapeshifting alien organism takes over each of them.
#4: Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
Wes Craven’s classic is a variation of the then popular (and overused) slasher movie: a killer who attacks victims in their dreams. Freddy Krueger became an icon with his trademark sweater, hat, claws, and dark wit. The film has an otherworldly quality to it thanks to the dream sequences. Plus, in a rare treat, it features a strong heroine who refuses to become Freddy’s next victim. Interesting bit of trivia: this is Johnny Depp’s first movie. He plays the heroine’s boyfriend.
#3: Fright Night (1985)
A horror/comedy that is both genuinely funny and scary, it is a film with a perfectly simple concept: a teenage boy thinks his new next-door neighbor is a vampire, but no one believes him, so he desperately seeks help from a washed-up horror movie actor. The best characters aren’t the teenage hero, but the old actor–played by Roddy McDowall of Planet of the Apes fame—and the vampire (played by Chris Sarandon). The former is a cynical yet likable fellow with sharp, sarcastic wit (who’s not afraid to take jabs at the current horror movie trends), while the latter is a man whose often mesmerizing charm masks a powerful evil. Add in a cat-and-mouse game being played by the desperate teenage boy and his undead nemesis, and you have a fun (and frightening) night out.
#2: Jaws
The movie that launched director Steven Spielberg’s career, created the summer blockbuster, and arguably inspired Sharknado. While based on the novel by Peter Benchley, it’s one of the rare times, I’d say, that the movie is better than the book (the novel was padded with an unnecessary subplot where Brody’s wife has an affair with Hooper). My favorite character is Quint, played by the scene-stealing Robert Shaw, a grizzled sailor with a Captain Ahab complex. He might be mad, but you can’t help but like his gruff attitude. Spielberg famously kept the anomatronic shark’s screen time to a minimum because he thought it looked fake. By doing so, he increased the film’s tension and gave the monster a stronger presence. Throw in classic lines like, “We need a bigger boat!” and you have an instant classic.
#1: Alien
“In space, no one can hear you scream.” (One of the best taglines ever!)
IfI had to choose a film that would be the blueprint for crafting the perfect horror movie, it would be Ridley Scott’s classic tale of gothic science fiction. It has powerful atmosphere, a terrifying and unique monster, and strong characters (including a countercultural heroine). The set design is incredible. The Nostromo feels both safe and claustrophobic. It plays upon multiple types and levels of fear, including, shadows, the unknown, and even rape. And it includes only one truly gory scene, but it both shocks the audience and adds to the story. It’s too bad that only one of its sequels, James Cameron’s Aliens, even comes close to equaling it.
Honorable Mentions (or, Films I’d Include on my Top 10) -28 Days Later -Dracula (1931) -Dawn of the Dead (original)
While I don’t hate Steven Moffat, he certainly has a reputation for torturing characters (and audiences). (Image courtesy of Pinterest).
I’ve missed a Thursday or three in my weekly posts the last few months. I should be flogged for that. I’ll probably have to find anorther writer to perform said flogging. Why?
Writers are sadists.
Well, most writers are sadists. Well, closet sadists. (Hear me saying that as the 10th Doctor?)
I’d define a sadist as someone who takes pleasure in the suffering of others. Now, generally speaking, I’d consider sadists to be terrible people (trust me, I’ve dealt with a few). But when you’re a writer—or even just a reader—you have to be one. Sorta.
The backbone of a plot is conflict (and there are nine of them). Without conflict, there is no story. What are essential ingredients for conflict? Trouble, misery, strife, and pain, to name a few. Characters must fight each other, overcome impossible odds, or battle forces (seemingly) beyond their control. As my friend Nick Hayden pointed out: “If a protagonist wakes up fully rested, eats breakfast, enjoys his day at work, comes home to his lovely wife and kids, fiddles on some project, and goes to bed, we might think one of two things: 1.) This is a terrible story. 2.) Uh-oh, everything’s going to hit the fan soon.”
When I attend writers’ meetings—particularly Children of the Wellscreative meetings—I’m astonished at how much time writers spend figuring out how to make their characters miserable. Take my novel, Pandora’s Box, for example. I gave Pvt. Brewer the happiest life—career, family, fiancé—much of which she worked hard to get (there’s conflict), but then I took it all away in one fell swoop. If I hadn’t, the book would’ve ended in a few chapters or been terribly boring (like Pamela by Samuel Richardson, a 500-page book I had to slog through in a week during college). I rarely, if ever, wish such misery on people I know, yet I go out of my way to make my brainchildren borderline manic depressants. Yet that’s what makes their triumphs that much more satisfying. J.R.R. Tolkien, author of The Lord of the Rings, called this a eucatastrophe: “…the sudden happy turn in a story which pierces you with a joy that brings tears….”
This was one of my problems with modern Christian authors for a long time: they were afraid to make characters miserable or include true suffering in their works (at least when it wasn’t an attempt at proselytizing). That’s why their stories didn’t resound with people. I determined when I started writing that I wouldn’t do that. I’m the kind of writer who puts his characters through Hell so their victory at the end is sweeter. I love those “eucatastrophe” moments. It makes the journey all worthwhile.
Perhaps that means writers like me aren’t necessarily sadists. We want our characters to be happy—they just have to survive long enough to reach the ending. (Get it? “Happy ending”? Never mind).
A Man from Another Time Exploring Another Universe
