Friday, July 19, 2013

The End of the Beginning

Welcome to my final post on this site. It's been a fantastic three years. Thanks to all of my readers and supporters for helping my platform grow to the point that I need a new blog.

The fun will continue on my new site, which will launch on Monday. This site won't be going anywhere. I intend to leave it running as an archive with links to the new place.

Thanks again, and see you Monday!

Update: my new blog is up and running. All are welcome.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Moving House

I've reached a decision. It's been a great three years here at Blogger, but my web journaling needs are quickly outgrowing my gracious host's ability to meet them.

As a result of these and other factors, my blog will be relocating to a self-hosted WordPress site. Along with the new address, my web journal's name will also be changing. Soul Saga forms the core of my speculative fiction work, but making it or any one fictional universe the masthead of all my professional efforts is too self-limiting.

Look for the new site to launch on Monday. New posts will continue to appear thrice weekly, along with "best-of" style reprints of my most popular articles on Tuesdays and Thursdays (until I run out). I'm also planning to release more exclusive material through the new site, such as short stories and possibly serialized novellas.

The new URL and name will be posted here soon. I hope that all of my dear readers and loyal subscribers will join me for the housewarming party.

Monday, July 15, 2013

Roger Ebert's Little Movie Glossary

I recently had the pleasure of discovering Roger Ebert's (Bigger) Little Movie Glossary. In this book Ebert assembles a list of film tropes, conventions, and clichés. Many of these insightful and hilarious terms can be found here.

Some of my favorites include Baked Potato People, the Engine Equalization Law, and the Law of Economy Characters.

I'm not sure why, but sorting entertainment tropes into easily referenced categories like these holds a strange appeal for me. Check out the book or the sample list above and see how many movies you can name that included one or more of these clichés.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Souldancer Revision Log

It's taken twelve years of intermittent work to write a version of Souldancer conforming to the norms of contemporary novel format. I'd like to share a few insights on the process.

I composed the first draft of the novel ten years ago after a long, collaborative world building project. I figure it took me about two and a half years to finish that draft. Being my first attempt at a novel manuscript, the first version teemed with amateur mistakes. Bloated by redundant exposition on every page, reams of purple prose, and only the faintest hint of a story structure, the original MS weighed in at 300,000 words (1135 typed pages).

I still can't believe I found stalwart souls willing to beta read that monster, but I did; and I'm forever grateful for their efforts.

I attempted sporadic revisions from 2005 until 2010, when Nick inspired me to get serious about writing. Looking at what I'd written confronted me with another rookie mistake: I'd started backwards. Or rather in the middle. My extensive world building had yielded four books' worth of notes, and Souldancer actually comes second in the planned continuity.

I resolved to start over and began work on Nethereal, the first volume in the cycle. Two years and three revisions later, I'd refined the story into a satisfactory form. Building on this foundation I revisited the Souldancer project. The futility of a line edit soon became clear, and I decided to redraft the MS.

Starting from scratch gave me the chance to correct structural flaws and clean up the prose. My chief working principles were (in no particular order):
  • Narrative flow and economy.
  • Logical story structure informed by theme.
  • Believable, organic character development and motivation.
  • Maintaining conflict, tension, and tight pacing.
Again drafting one chapter at a time, I gradually became aware that the book's page count was shrinking. Soon I noticed that this phenomenon had become truly dramatic (I was writing action on page 50 that occurred on page 100 in the original draft). Not until I compiled each chapter into the new MS did I learn just how effective my streamlining had been.
  • Original Souldancer MS (second revision): 300,000 words, 1135 pages.
  • Current Souldancer MS: 88,000 words, 370 pages.
What amazes me is that, besides a few tangents and extraneous subplots, I cut very few scenes from the original version. The current MS covers the same principal action in almost exactly one-third of the space. Even better, I don't think the narrative feels rushed; just faster paced.

I'll let you know what the beta readers say.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Share My Joy

I just finished the latest full Souldancer draft.

This manuscript, which I consider the beta for version 2.2, is at present the most refined form of a story I've been working hard to tell for twelve years. It is my greatest achievement to date, not because it's objectively the best writing I've produced (I leave that judgment to my readers), but because enshrining this tale in written form has always been a labor of love.

My undying thanks to all the friends who've helped me realize and share this story. I eagerly await the beta readers' verdict. If you'd like to join them, I'm considering applicants via email and the comment box.

Monday, July 8, 2013

Multiple Updates

A series of developments occurred over the weekend.

The Nethereal partial manuscript submission I sent to Tor back in December resulted in a form rejection.

The agent I'd queried most recently replied today with identical results. I'll be sending out another query to a new agent tomorrow.

It's startling to look back at that December update and see that I was only on chapter ten of the latest Souldancer revision. I'm now on chapter 46 and expect to finish the latest draft of the book this week.

End transmission.

Friday, July 5, 2013

Ocean at the End of the Lane

Neil Gaiman's new book is out. Here's Benjamin Percy's review. It's a tale of childhood reminiscence uncovering forgotten wonders and horrors.

I shouldn't have to say anything else. Go read it.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

They Will Accomplish Blunders


This new trailer for Space Cop from the fine folks at Red Letter Media scathingly parodies Zack Snyder's directing style from Man of Steel while doing a great job of marketing their new film.

I love these guys. Unlike armchair critics who only tear others' projects apart while creating nothing of their own, Red Letter Media consistently produce hilarious pieces that call out bad storytelling while demonstrating how to avoid laziness and clichés.

Monday, July 1, 2013

The Bible Part II


NBC has announced that it will be picking up where the History Channel left off by airing a second miniseries based on the Bible.

The original five-part production presented highly condensed dramatizations of well-known biblical events: sort of a salvation history highlight reel. I only caught parts of a few episodes but liked what I saw for the most part.

The fact that the first run netted nearly twelve million viewers and is flying off the shelves on DVD probably affected NBC's decision.

If you're wondering what direction the sequel's going to take, it looks to be following the sociopolitical tumult that came to a boil 37 years after the crucifixion, resulting in the fall of Jerusalem. All the while, the infant Church struggles to survive.

It sounds like they're salting the Acts of the Apostles with military/political information from Flavius Josephus' The Jewish War. On the one hand, there are signs of superfluous violence and political intrigue being shoehorned in. On the other, drawing from a smaller body of source material should allow the miniseries to treat the subject matter with greater depth.

Is anyone out there excited for/wary about this?

Friday, June 28, 2013

Kairos

The following was originally written as a prologue to Souldancer. I cut it upon deciding to start the book with the main action.


Almeth Elocine staggers across the narrow span.  Though Kairos knows neither “was” nor “will be”, the newcomer’s footsteps echo with regret and herald woes to come.

The bridge traverses every epoch of history, an alabaster beam suspended over a canyon of whirring cogs. Oblivious to the abyss yawning below, Almeth walks on—harried by defeat. Kairos is time as the gods know it, and the traveler’s memory of certain victory turned to rout seems only moments old.

The ubiquitous machinery turns in a continual dance of shifting fractal patterns, and Almeth hears again the guardians’ voices. They hail him as Faerda made flesh; the last god. He suffers these titles; comes to embrace them and finally to believe.

Ahead, the towers of spinning gears part to reveal the terminus. It is the last place that Almeth wishes to be, yet he recognizes the heart of Kairos as the natural end of his pride. All other paths are shut to him. Now he sees the platform clearly. A tall stocky figure stands at the head of the bridge, waiting.

“Elocine! It’s not too late to turn back!”

If Almeth is surprised by the man’s presence, he gives no sign. Unhindered he answers, “the Guild rules the spheres now, Cleolin. Where would you have me turn back to?”

Cleolin’s brow is stern, but the hardness doesn’t reach his eyes. “I would ask you the same, Blackbow. Even a mortal such as I know that one may reach any place or time from Kairos.”

Almeth sees the syndex’s muscles tense at his approach—a message clear as bared steel. “Everything’s gone wrong.” Elocine’s voice hardly exceeds a whisper. “I’m the last. Only I can mend it.”

 The syndex of Midras frowns—the mere sight of which oft sets foes to flight. Cleolin Redbeard beholds his former captain’s ashen face; sees the cold sweat that’s turned his hair into a mat of black lambswool. The priest knows that he is witnessing a marvel without precedent: Almeth Elocine is afraid. “Turn aside, Almeth!” the syndex warns. “Whatever your intent, to rewrite fate’s decrees is folly, even for a god!”

Though faltering, Almeth’s pace doesn’t slow. “The resistance is lost,” he says without inflection. “Should I leave my people in thrall to an upstart fiend?”

“The remnant of Annon chose their lot. The guardians may yet survive in Strata untouched by the Brotherhood.”

The human priest and the godly Gen stand face to face below the broad stair. Cleolin’s visage is grim; Elocine smiles wanly without mirth.

“You speak without forethought,” Almeth laments, “as is your race’s wont. Wheresoever I lead my broken following, the Void shall overtake us as it has the Middle Stratum.”

“The Guild has conquered the spheres; not the Void.”

“One is merely the consequence of the other,” Almeth says, pressing forward. His advance is halted as a smooth motion of the priest’s hand sends an icy jolt through Elocine’s torso. He recovers from the shock in time to see Cleolin withdraw his red-tipped blade.

“Forgive me this sacrilege,” the syndex says as Almeth collapses against him. The priest’s stout arms are all that keeps Elocine from folding to the floor.

Urgency beyond all concern for himself drives the Gen back onto his feet. He looks upon the syndex’s startled face a final time; then exerts his will. Kairos itself propels Cleolin backward so rapidly that his imposing stature instantly diminishes to a tiny distant mote. His scream reaches Almeth seconds after he vanishes beyond the terminus.

Clutching his wound, Elocine staggers to the edge of Kairos. Cleolin was the last tie binding him to life in this cosmos. Its severance empties him of all feeling, and he sits down to wait.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

He Is Legend

Richard Matheson died this week. My limited verbal powers cannot adequately describe the impact of this towering figure on the science fiction and horror genres. We shall not see his like again.

I encourage you to celebrate Mr. Matheson's life and career by enjoying at least one of his works in the coming days.

I Am Legend

Stir of Echoes

The Legend of Hell House

"Nightmare at 20,000 Feet"

The Incredible Shrinking Man

Duel

What Dreams May Come

Monday, June 24, 2013

SD v. 2.2b

The latest draft of Souldancer is nearing fruition. I'm averaging a chapter a day, so at that rate I expect to finish in two or three weeks.

Since I'll have just finished redrafting, the book will need inspection by objective eyes. If you would like to be a beta reader for this project, please volunteer in the comments section below or by sending me an email expressing your interest. I know there are already a couple of people I can count on, but in this case more is more.

Thanks to everyone who's supported me in this enterprise.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Prologues and Epilogues

Before I'm accused of closed-mindedness regarding supplemental novel materials, let me say that both of my manuscripts' first drafts had prologues. I was persuaded to cut them on the wise advice of my beta readers.

Prologues and epilogues have staunch defenders who point out major books by famous writers that have them (Robert Jordan and Neil Gaiman for instance). I cut my prologues for two simple reasons.
  1. Agents and editors hate them.
  2. I am neither Robert Jordan nor Neil Gaiman.
Let it be noted that the prologue to The Eye of the World is one of the best opening hooks in modern fantasy (it's certainly my favorite), yet it violates all of Ms. Lakosil's guidelines. As I wrote in this space before, you must master the rules before you're allowed to break them.

Since this blog sticks to advice for beginning writers from a beginning writer, I say in all bluntness: avoid prologues and epilogues. Make them your first and last chapters, integrate the material elsewhere in the book, or just cut them altogether. Again, the main reason for this rather crude approach is that 90% of agents and editors admit that a prologue negatively impacts their view of a manuscript. If you must include supplemental material, submit the MS without it and tactfully discuss adding it back in once the project's been accepted.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Entering Elantris

I recently started reading Elantris by Brandon Sanderson. It's his first novel, and that fact does color my perceptions of the book. First, it's 60 percent longer than my Nethereal manuscript, giving me encouragement that my work is an acceptable length for a first book.

Besides the editing considerations, Elantris' plot is very high-concept, which is how I like it. A land inspired by late medieval Europe plays host to a race of immortal sages randomly divinized by unknown mystical forces. These chosen demigods all congregate in the tale's eponymous city, where they forge startling new technologies with magical runes and buy the commoners' adoration with free food.

Sanderson then brilliantly describes the crushing end of a bread and circuses based political structure when the same ineffable force that gave the Elantrians their power capriciously takes it away. In a delightfully perverse twist, the former divinities aren't just demoted back to human status. They become leprous undead wretches, unable to work their former magics or even to heal from the slightest wounds. The gods' former seat of power becomes their plague colony: a filth-ridden tomb shunned by its former subjects.

Ten years of upheaval follow as anyone and anything connected with Elantris' cursed inhabitants is violently uprooted and cast aside. The monied middle class, being the only group whose prosperity didn't depend on the Elantrians' largesse, step in to fill the power vacuum. One of Sanderson's master strokes is depicting the upjumped nobility's aversion to keeping servants after seeing the Elantrians' former worshipers turn on them.

There's always room for improvement, especially in a first novel (if eighteen months of revisions taught me anything, this is it). I'll list a few weaknesses I've found in Elantris with the caveat that I'm only a quarter of the way through the book, and it's difficult to judge a work's merits until the last word is read.

As mentioned above, Elantris is long. I'm a marathon reader; not a guy who consumes one coffee break-sized chapter at a time. Yet I'm progressing at roughly half the pace I set while reading Count to a Trillion, which is comparable in length. I think Elantris' pacing needs some work, but I'm not sure how yet.

Though their dialogue is solid, most of the characters serve as exemplars of established fantasy archetypes without enough to flesh them out (at least so far; some main and side characters show promise). The prince is an able leader trained in the arts of politics: in short, a prince. However, his native likability succeeds in gaining reader sympathy for his plight. Princess Sarene reads like a suffragette transported to Henry VIII's England. She's very good at it though, and her characterization could hint at why Sanderson was named Jordan's heir.

The character who most engages me is (of course) main antagonist Hrathen: a high priest of a militaristic faith who's given three months to convert a foreign kingdom. Sanderson gives him perhaps the biggest stakes of any main character in terms of immediate ramifications, for his failure will mean the country's bloody demise.

Those are my first impressions of Elantris. I'll reserve my final review till I've finished the book.

Monday, June 17, 2013

The Hagiology of Superman

Zack Snyder's Man of Steel is the second attempt at a new direction for the Superman franchise in less than a decade. For many superhero properties, a reboot means a darker, grittier take on the character. Snyder (and producer Christopher Nolan) indulge a bit of that angst-driven sentiment here, but to me the most intriguing change in direction for this iteration of Superman isn't really a change, but an expansion within the continuity of his main source tradition.

Soon after the character's debut, commentators (including Nazi propagandist Joseph Goebbels) noted Superman's resemblance to Moses. Both Israel's founding father and the Last Son of Krypton escaped genocidal calamities as infants, were raised in secret by foster parents, altered the natural courses of major bodies of water, and served as the exemplars and protectors of specific nations' creeds. Both characters also have Hebrew names (Kal-El: "Swift God", and Mosheh, derived from the Egyptian: "Son").

Several items in the movie's subtext hint that Snyder and Nolan have graduated their Superman from prophetic to messianic status. Without spoiling any major plot points or characterizations, here are some of the Christological elements I noticed on my first viewing:
  • Jonathan Kent has a deep sense of Clark's special role and strives to foster his potential. He also expresses awareness that his son has another father who sent him to earth for a reason. (One could build an entire post on the Pa Kent/St. Joseph parallels alone).
  • As seen in the trailers, Clark travels with a group of fishermen at one point.
  • Clark is prominently framed against a stained glass window depicting the Agony in the Garden at a dramatically resonant moment.
  • Superman gives his age as 33 (in the original Superman: The Man of Steel graphic novel, he is 29. This can only be a deliberate parallel).
  • At least one scene with an implied crucifixion motif.
  • Kal-El is referred to as a god and the savior of humanity.
  • A woman is the sole witness to the revelation of Clark's superhuman nature, and none of her associates believe her until they see for themselves.
I could go on, but I think the observations above make a strong case that the filmmakers intended to portray Superman as a Christ character. From a theological standpoint, the character's expansion from prophet to messiah is an internally consistent and frankly ingenious reboot approach. It raises the story's stakes and magnifies the character's significance by way of the natural progression of his underlying mythos. Far from spurning Superman's Mosaic roots, Snyder and Nolan have followed that theme to its logical conclusion.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Story Structure

As a followup to yesterday's discussion of outlining vs. organic writing, basic story structure deserves a few words. The relationship is fundamental. If you're a planning writer, the act of outlining your story gives it structure by default. Even if you write organically your narrative will have to adopt some logical order so readers can relate to it.

What are a writer's options for structuring a story? Here are some of the most common options.

Three act structure organizes the story into three sections. Generally act one deals with introductions and setup. Act two confronts the protagonist with challenges. Act three shows how these obstacles are overcome. Western literature and cinema strongly emphasize raising and resolving tension in a conflict bell curve.

The original Star Wars trilogy represents the epitome of three act structure.

The Hero's Journey is often cited as a structural template for storytelling. It's actually an observation by Professor Joseph Campbell about recurring plots points, characters, and themes in western myths. I'm discussing Campbell's monomyth here to caution writers against following it too slavishly. The hero's journey isn't a one size fits all story mold. It's a set of norms against which a story can be measured after it's written (i.e. it's an interpretive tool, not a composition tool).

Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy finds girl again is the basic plot of almost every romance novel and romantic comedy film. However, invoking TV trope rule zero, Shakespeare did it first. Boy meets girl, etc. is also called the idiot plot due to how often it's used to drive characters instead of the characters driving the plot. As the Bard of Avon proves, it can be done well as long as characterization isn't neglected.

Other types of plot structure exist, and all are capable of framing successful narratives. The most important caveat to using established plot structures is to regard them as guidelines; not laws. Choose the structure that will best fit your story. Don't contort your story to fit a specific mold.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Organic vs. Outline

There are two general approaches to starting the writing process: outlining and organic writing. Both methods have advantages and flaws. Many writers use some combination of both. Which is best? The answer largely depends on the writer, but this brief overview should help.

Outlining
The writer undertakes extensive world building and planning before drafting begins. The overall story structure; plus major characters, themes, and plot twists, are outlined.

Advantages
  • Reduces the likelihood of omitting important characters/scenes/plot points, etc.
  • Gives the writer a road map to fall back on if the story goes astray.
  • Theoretically speeds up the actual writing process, which can become as simple as filling in the outline.
  • Minimizes the risk of wasting time and effort by becoming disenchanted with the story after writing several chapters.
Flaws
  • Can delay the start of writing by encouraging endless world building.
  • Promotes excessive exposition on background concepts like magic systems, fantasy world history, character origin stories, etc.
  • Runs the risk of turning the art of writing into a sterile, paint-by-numbers exercise.
Popular outline writer: Brandon Sanderson

Organic/Discovery Writing
The author gets an idea and just starts writing about it, letting the story develop organically.

Advantages
  • Minimal risk of writer's block due to incessant world building.
  • Easier to make changes rather than scrapping a whole story.
  • Greater freedom to "follow characters" who take the plot in unexpected directions.
  • Lowers the risk of scenes/characters/plot twists feeling forced.

Flaws
  • No reference to fall back on. "Working without a safety net".
  • Easier to forget important concepts/plot points.
  • Increased risk of writer's block from lack of direction.
  • Greater chance of a meandering, bloated narrative.
  • Avoiding flow/pacing problems takes strong self-discipline.
  • Higher risk of continuity errors.
Popular discovery writer: Stephen King

For a more in-depth treatment of this subject, Writing Excuses has an excellent discussion on discovery writing and several on outlining.


Monday, June 10, 2013

Faith in Fantasy

Religion is one inevitable aspect of world building that is perilously easy to get wrong. Readers are culturally and historically conditioned to expect that faith will play a significant role (implicitly if not explicitly) in any fantasy universe. This convention is no less true of science fiction, though it more often operates in the subtext.

I find that fantasy religions are most often mishandled when authors invoke the cliche of transporting primary world religions into their fictional settings with only minor linguistic and aesthetic tweaks. Unless logical reasons are given for how a belief system whose cult, code, and creed exactly mirrors that of a real-world faith developed, this approach strains suspension of disbelief.

Worse, the temptation to make a fictionalized version of an actual religion into a straw man embodying an author's pet grievances can be hard to resist. This offense is sometimes committed knowingly, but more often it results from a lack of diligent research.

Not that designing fantasy religions from whole cloth is the only--or even the best--way to create credible, organic-feeling faiths. Fabricating belief systems utterly alien to the reader's experience likewise inhibits immersion and suspension of disbelief. It's important to provide theological and cultural touchstones with which readers are familiar.

Therefore, the best advice I can give to writers crafting a fictional religion is to study primary world faiths. Choose your sources carefully. Avoid histories written by obvious detractors of a particular creed who likely have axes to grind. Give preference to primary sources within the faith's tradition written by members in good standing.

As for creating fantasy religions, a brief overview of the basic categories into which nearly all real-world creeds can be grouped should be helpful.
  • Philosophical/Civil: straddling the line between religion as such and ethical and juridical systems, these traditions can be effectively agnostic while accruing ceremonial trappings. Examples include Confucianism, Taoism, and some Aristotelian and Platonic schools.
  • Deist: deism acknowledges a creator, but one so transcendent as to rule out communion with humans. The Deist God is a "watchmaker" who sets creation in motion and walks away to let history play itself out. Many influential Enlightenment figures held this view.
  • Pantheist: almost a negative image of deism. Pantheism denies God's transcendence, locating divinity in all things. In this view, The universe itself is the supreme being, and all its constituents share in the divine. The pantheist cannot truly speak of creation, since nothing exists that is not God. Pantheist thought can add an interesting angle to a story's morality since it sees good and evil as equally valid aspects of the same reality. Shinto and some aspects of Hinduism are pantheistic.
  • Polytheist: though it also denies the transcendence of divinity, polytheism doesn't divinize the whole. Members of classical polytheistic pantheons are portrayed as the offspring of natural forces, so they aren't eternal and usually aren't said to have created the cosmos. Such gods differ from men in degree of perfection more than order of being. Polytheistic faiths are fantasy mainstays but require care to avoid being portrayed as caricatures.
  • Dualist: dualism posits the existence of two supreme beings: almost always one good and one evil. Dualist theology usually develops as an attempt to address theodicy, or the problem of evil. In this case, all good things are credited to the benevolent God, while all evils are ascribed to the malevolent one. Manicheism is a notable dualistic faith. Dualism is also wildly popular in fantasy settings, e.g. George R. R. Martin's R'hllor/Great Other.
  • Monotheist: the belief in one, eternal, transcendent, and immanent supreme being. Though deism professes a single Creator, it is a dependent offshoot of the Abrahamic faiths which view God as transcending creation while remaining active in it. Though often epitomizing evil in a Satan/Adversary, monotheism differs from dualism in that this evil agent is not a god, but a corrupted creature. Also common in fantasy settings, monotheistic faiths are especially at risk of distortion since their real world prominence leads some authors to take incomplete or false understandings of their creeds for granted.

Friday, June 7, 2013

The Hand of Vance

Genre fiction recently lost Jack Vance, one its most underappreciated grand masters. A baroque visionary who penned his first tales aboard a merchant marine freighter in the South Pacific during World War II, Vance never quite managed to overcome the anti-genre bias of more respectable literary circles. What he did was successfully inspire generations of zealous fans.

Gamers owe particular homage to Vance. The First Edition Dungeon Master's Guide gives him an honored place on the acknowledgements page, and with good reason. He invented--among other D&D staples--ioun stones and the game's magic system (notorious for compelling mages to re-memorize forgotten spells each night).

If you're an avid gamer, or even a fan of classic genre fiction, I highly recommend checking out Vance's Dying Earth stories. Perhaps he, like Howard and Lovecraft, will receive in death the due honor he was denied in life.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Faustian Bargaining

"Magic"--like "love", "decimation", and "freedom"--is a term that popular use has greatly corrupted. Nowhere is the misapprehension of magic more prevalent than in contemporary speculative fiction. Many authors, without fear of contradiction or ridicule,  slap the "magic" label onto any ability exceeding the norm. This practice is inaccurate and objectively misleading.

In their episode on magic systems, the Writing Excuses podcast filed everything from the Force to mutant powers under the aegis of "magic". Allowances must be made for the hosts' need of a convenient term to frame their discussion, not to mention their fifteen minute time limit. However, I found it interesting that they mentioned several species of fantastic power but not actual magic.

I'll stop begging the question and define actual magic, that is to say magic as it has been historically understood and practiced in western culture. Though western magical traditions differ, certain common threads run through all of them:
  • Magic is preternatural, i.e. not among the natural powers proper to humans.
  • Magic does not involve the direct manipulation of cosmic or spiritual energies ("spiritual energy" being an oxymoron).
  • Following from the first two points, the magician's role is to invoke the aid of spiritual beings, to whom levitating objects, forecasting future events, etc. comes naturally (thus magic can't be called supernatural either).
  • These beings' services are never contracted without cost.
In no authentic source I know did actual magicians claim the power to weave strands of earth and air or to shoot coherent light beams from their eyes. I realize that novelists deal with magic in the context of fiction, but words are a writer's tools, and words have meanings. The classification of every freak, prodigy, and curiosity as "magic" is a result of our modern linguistic laziness and aversion to metaphysics.

It could be argued that the usefulness of a general term describing the sundry paranormal goings-on in popular fantasy and science fiction trumps the importance of linguistic accuracy. In that respect, I don't begrudge such usage as long as the terms are defined beforehand. However, I find that a proper understanding of magic as it was known to our ancestors can add authenticity and depth to one's writing. John C. Wright makes a persuasive case for this approach.

Another question implied by this line of reasoning is, "How should the various "magic" systems used in contemporary fiction be classified?" I'll attempt an answer.
  • Extranormal abilities arising from genetic mutation (natural or induced), alien ancestry, enhanced anatomy, or wonder drugs fit most comfortably into the category of superpowers.
  • Effects that seem paranormal to readers, but which result from the conscious manipulation of ambient energy fields, chi, manna, etc. are really just technologies, although they draw on power sources that are unknown or disputed in the primary world.
  • Techniques that exploit physical laws absent in the real world are likewise technologies.
  • Combinations of the above, e.g. a gene that predisposes one to psychic powers.
You're probably thinking of Clarke's Third Law right now. In my defense, Clarke meant "magic" in the broad sense of "anything scientifically inexplicable". Also, the Third Law affirms an intrinsic difference between technology and magic and even relies on that difference for its intelligibility.

My own science fiction-fantasy novel Nethereal provides examples of each category. Jaren and Nakvin possess certain superior physical traits thanks to nonhuman parentage. These are superpowers. The Guild's Workings and glamers, Gennish Mysteries, and even the Malefactions of xanthotics are technologies that harness fictitious forms of energy. Only in the ancient schools of divination and necromancy--with their fool's bargains and horrific costs--do we find real magic.

The whole exercise in fantastical nit-picking aside, Sanderson and Wright are unarguably correct that a practical supernormal power system should adhere to rules; especially the rule that all power comes at a price. Mutants are feared and hated by those they fight to protect. Channelers risk madness and death to use their gift. Sorcerers barter their eternal souls for power and influence. As long as the cost fits the effect, it's not cheating.

Monday, June 3, 2013

Obstacles: Internal and External

I finally started listening to Writing Excuses. In season 1, episode 6 Brandon, Howard, and Dan discussed character flaws and handicaps. I loved the episode and thought of a few comments that I'd like to share here.

The hosts of Writing Excuses defined a flaw as an internal fault that a character must overcome. They cited Han Solo's initial greed and selfishness from Star Wars Episode IV. In contrast they defined a handicap as external circumstances that impede a character's progress, e.g. Luke Skywalker's overprotective uncle and remote desert upbringing.

I can't take issue with either definition, except for one host's assertion that handicaps can't be overcome by the character (Luke in fact does when he leaves Tattooine with Han, Chewie, and Ben). In fairness, I think he was trying to differentiate between the internal struggle involved in overcoming a flaw and the positive actions needed to remove a handicap.

One fascinating question that came up was how to balance character flaws and likability (i.e. how to give a character flaws without alienating readers). I agree that making the flawed character the protagonist wins half the reader sympathy battle. One powerful tool overlooked by Writing Excuses but recommended by my friend and fellow writer Nick Enlowe is remorse. A character earns a lot of points with readers by expressing sorrow for his sins. Striking the right balance of depravity and virtue is still delicate work (I'm grappling with this process in the book I'm writing now), but at the end of the day most readers want characters to have flaws and want them to overcome those flaws.

Who are your favorite flawed characters? Why do they resonate with you despite (or because of) their faults? What do you think is the ideal balance of virtue to vice?

Friday, May 31, 2013

Considering Writers' Conferences

I've been contemplating attending a writers' conference for a while. Such events come in many flavors (general, genre-related, writers' retreats, etc.), so it's important to define your goals and select the conference that's best able to meet your needs.

I'm in the market for a general or SF/Fantasy-focused event where I can meet agents (a method proven by several successful authors) and editors (workshops and panel discussions are valuable, but I'm mainly focused on networking). Having limited funds, I'm not looking to travel far.

The most promising event I've found within these criteria is the Chicago Writers Conference. It's not till September, but one can't start planning too early. I don't know if I'll go this year. Registration is $200.00, and that's without travel and lodging expenses. I'll keep you posted as the situation unfolds.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Count to a Trillion

I just finished John C. Wright's science fiction novel Count to a Trillion. Having wished to read The Hermetic Millennia, I was advised to pick up the preceding novel first. I'm glad I did.

Count to a Trillion introduces Menelaus Illation Montrose, a lawyer specializing in "out of court settlements" based on Spanish dueling traditions revived by beleaguered landowners to circumvent confiscatory twenty-third century property laws.

Montrose's mathematical genius allows him to thrive in a Texas--devastated by germ warfare, depopulation, and governmental collapse--where duels are decided by the sophistication of each duelist's pre-programmed bullets. (Wright describes the evolutionary weapons escalation that produced his future setting's nine-pound, foot long pistols in highly creative detail.)

Fate seemingly intervenes when Montrose is approached by the organizers of mankind's first voyage to another star. The protagonist, who grew up idolizing (to him) ancient Star Trek cartoons, becomes obsessed with deciphering the (to humans) unintelligible glyphs covering the alien monument found in orbit around an antimatter star. To this end, he takes matters into his own hands by injecting himself with an experimental drug based in part on the monument's own undeciphered calculus. The process increases Montrose's intelligence to superhuman levels but also plunges him into raving, finger-biting depths of madness.

And then the story starts.

Combining a grand vision of human destiny reminiscent of Frank Herbert's Dune and technological savvy to rival William Gibson (plus rustic humor and truly sympathetic characters often missing from both), Count to a Trillion comes highly recommended.

Friday, May 24, 2013

Souldancer Deleted Scene: Forging the White Sword

            The sun was falling below the Edge of the World when a vision appeared to Aber Lico. The blacksmith sat on his doorstep looking east toward town and watched as a strange figure walked out of a heat haze a few hundred yards away.
            More details surfaced as the stranger approached. He wore a black shirt under a ragged tan jacket with matching pants. A mane of shock white hair crowned his head.
            Lico stood and gripped one of the rough porch beams. “I’m closed for the night,” he called out.
            The stranger either didn’t hear or didn’t care. He steadily advanced to stand at the foot of the stairs. His skin was ashen; almost grey, and his eyes were an odd yellow-green.
“I need a forge,” he said in a rigid, unfamiliar accent.
            “I told you,” Lico said. “Shop’s closed.”
            The grey man stared into the house that also held Lico’s workshop. “This is where the blade was Worked,” he said. Then he walked past the blacksmith and into his home.
            “Wait!” Lico shouted over his family’s startled cries. “I make pins and hinges; not swords!” The smith followed his unwelcome visitor through his house to the forge, besieging him with curses.
With his wife and children huddled in the doorway, Lico seized a stout hammer and approached the man who’d invaded his home.
            “I don’t know where you’re from,” the blacksmith said, “but you’d best return there.”
            Ignoring his unwilling host, the stranger set about stoking the coals.
            “Stop him, Aber,” urged the blacksmith’s wife. “He’s like to burn the house down!”
            Gritting his teeth, Lico hefted the hammer and brought it down upon the stranger’s back. He felt the impact running up the shaft and heard a sickening crunch. The intruder fell to his knees but started crawling toward the forge.
            The smith swung again with far less reluctance. The blow knocked the stranger flat, but he dragged himself along the plank floor.
            Lico brought the hammer up again and let it fall with a savage cry. He swung again and again, only stopping when the broken and bloody form on his floor lay still.
            The considered informing the city guard. Instead he dragged the body to the Edge of the World and cast it over the smoking precipice.
 
            It was pitch black when Lico woke, panting and soaked with sweat, to the sound of ringing metal.
He started when his wife grabbed his arm.
“What is that?” she whispered.
            “It’s coming from the shop,” the blacksmith said. The rhythmic sound of metal striking metal continued for several moments before Lico found the courage to rise from bed. Lighting a lamp, he crept toward the workshop.
            The orange-red light of live coals bent and magnified ordinary objects into hellish shadows. A lone figure stood at the forge. His right hand rose and fell in a familiar motion that turned Lico’s stomach. The small silversmith’s hammer sounded clear, chiming notes.
            “What are you doing?” asked the smith, his voice trembling. “Who are you?”
            The delicate hammer rang once more and stopped. The figure turned, revealing a bloody ruin of a face, and gazed at Lico with one yellow-green eye.
            The blacksmith ran to his children and found that his screams had already woken them. Hastily loading his family into their wagon, he raced through the night toward Highwater.
 
            When Lico returned after dawn with the city guard, the stranger was gone. All that remained to mark his presence were a few lumps of slag. Boasting a mirrored sheen, the impossibly light metal cast purple reflections in its white surface.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Touring the Sorcerer's House

The Sorcerer's House by Gene Wolfe comes highly reviewed by both Neil Gaiman and John C. Wright, so there's little I can add of any critical merit. I will say that I deeply enjoyed the book.

Wolfe makes the bold and unorthodox choice to structure his novel in epistolary form (a series of letters between protagonist Bax Dunn and his colorful cast of family and friends). Since The Sorcerer's House is, among other things, a mystery, this approach serves the narrative well; causing enough chronological uncertainty and giving the author good reason to omit enough information to keep readers on their toes.

The symbolism is thick and rich here: especially the theme of objects, events, and people coming in twos. I dimly suspected that the whole book has a dualistic structure on my first reading, but I'll have to read it again to be sure.

All is certainly not as it seems. The main character immediately establishes himself as an unreliable narrator: a con man recently released from prison who nonetheless holds multiple advanced degrees and conducts himself in a cordial, erudite manner.

The novel's tone is generally tongue-in-cheek and understated, though there are certainly moments of genuine pathos and surreal horror. The Sorcerer's House is urban fantasy/gothic mystery with a heart. Don't go in expecting a parable on contemporary issues or a hero dispensing justice. This tale is told for its own sake--the best reason of all.

Monday, May 20, 2013

Breaking the Law

I want to be a writer; therefore I write. Because I want to be a good writer, I read books (though not as many as I should), seek advice from other writers, and study writing techniques. These two pursuits often overlap, resulting in blog posts about guidelines for writing fiction.

Writing about the rules of fiction helps me to learn them. Hopefully my readers learn something too, or at least suffer no harm from my amateurish pontificating. In any event, my aim is not to dictate a set of immutable laws governing all literature. After all, I'm still learning. Like jazz musicians, the real fun only starts when you know the rules well enough to start breaking them.

If that's the case, why not ignore the rules from the beginning? Why bother learning them at all? The answer is that there's a significant difference between writing with hamfisted ignorance or lazy disregard for literary conventions and purposefully tweaking the rules in entertaining ways.

Let me illustrate my point by returning to that tried and true well of storytelling excellence: Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight. The film breaks a major rule of characterization and begins doing so immediately by never explaining the Joker's back story (a few self-professed origins are given but cannot be trusted for obvious reasons). Antagonists 101 states that the main villain must be fully fleshed out. The audience must understand the character and his motivations in order to identify with him and thus find meaning in his villainy.

Nolan directly transgresses this rule. Instead of a complex three-dimensional antagonist, he gives us a demonic agent of chaos with no personality beyond the scope of his crimes. It shouldn't work, yet it does--and brilliantly--because the director (and writers and actor) know how to break the rules.

Lesser artists would've wound up with a mustache-twirling cardboard cutout who ties women to train tracks. Ledger's Joker can get away with doing evil for evil's sake because his character is a walking commentary on breaking rules. He straddles the line between a human villain with intelligible motives and a destructive force of nature (as made explicit by Alfred's "Some men just want to watch the world burn" speech). That shift puts the conflict on a whole other level.

When the movie version of an "unfilmable" book earns critical praise, it's often because the filmmakers took advantage of the project's stigma to subvert movie and literary storytelling conventions. In fiction, one of the best ways to entertain an audience is to do the unexpected. Learning the rules your art relies on and then creatively breaking them usually catches people off guard.

What are some other books, films, etc. that defied conventions with entertaining results?

Friday, May 17, 2013

Horseshoes and Hand Grenades


An agent I queried asked for the first five pages of the Nethereal manuscript last week. The pages were rejected in a frank and highly professional manner. The gesture is highly appreciated.

I went into Heinlein phase five bracing myself to face criticism. I conditioned myself as best I could to take negative comments with an open mind, revise the book if they made sense and ignore them if they didn't. Funny thing: There really hasn't been any criticism to speak of. The most common replies I've gotten have been: A) nothing and B) form letters. The two or three personalized responses all amount to, "Your premise and execution are fine, but it's not what we're looking for."

The dearth of feedback is something I didn't anticipate. I have plans in place to deal with, "Your work is bad, and here's why." Instead I'm left grappling with, "Your project is OK. For someone else. But I don't know who it is."

On further reflection, I believe I'm facing the following difficulties:

It's impossible to sell a manuscript unless the buyer reads the whole thing. Not only can't you judge a book by its cover; you really can't judge it till you've read the last paragraph. Readers may have that luxury, but not people whose jobs depend on acquiring new titles. And yet...

Agents and editors don't have enough time to read every manuscript submitted to them. It's a fact of the busy world we live in: more so for literary agents and acquisitions editors, who receive thousands of submissions a year. These conditions force them into the paradox of judging something piecemeal that can only be fairly evaluated within the context of the whole.

Faced with this Joseph Heller reference, most professional writers advise researching agents and editors' tastes before querying them. A common strategy is to look up agents' recent deals to find out what kind of books they represent. Mining the acknowledgements pages of novels in the same style and genre as yours is often recommended as a good way to find like-minded agents and editors.

I've been following that advice for years, but...

I haven't found anything close enough to my work to identify an agent/editor with similar sensibilities. From one perspective, the fact that I can't find other books like mine is good. Agents and editors often say that they're looking for fresh material. On the other hand, it's bad because people usually stick to what's worked before and don't go too far beyond their established tastes. I know I do that. There are sound logical reasons for playing to one's strengths.

Frankly, I don't want to work with an agent, editor, or publisher who isn't excited about my book. Agents are salespeople (so are writers), and the best salesmen are genuinely passionate about the product. A project has no better friend than an editor who's willing to champion it to the publisher, and a lukewarm publisher is apt to bury a book at the end of the list (or drop it altogether).

The way I see it, I have two options:

1. the Jim Butcher method: which ain't gonna happen, if only because I have too little charm and too great a fear of jail to crash invitation only industry lunches.

2. the black hole: wherein I keep throwing message-laden bottles into the ocean hoping that just the right alignment of circumstances prompts an agent to request a sample based on my query letter, that the partial reading elicits a request for the full manuscript, that the MS convinces the agent to approach an acquisitions editor on my behalf, and that the editor agrees to take on the project.

I might be a timid eccentric, but I'm a very patient timid eccentric.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

There Is No Conflict...

...Or at least no conflict worth writing about that ignores certain dramatic conventions. Without conflict there's no story, so here are a few core principles to keep in mind. Thanks to Donald Maass for spelling most of these out.

Emphasize concrete stakes over abstract ones. Even if you're writing a metaphysical narrative, audiences will probably find the solid visible consequences of the story's conflicts more directly accessible than their transcendent implications. By all means give your conflict an ideological dimension, but use symbol and subtext to tie it into your theme. It'll have more impact that way.

Make conflict proximate. This one seems self-evident, but it's good rule to be conscious of. Every conflict should involve the affected characters as closely as possible. This approach heightens tension and ensures high stakes. (Killing characters off-screen is much less traumatic/satisfying than doing it right in front of the audience.)

Make conflict matter. Another common sense rule that's ignored all too often. Conflict is all about the stakes. Battles in which heroes effortlessly mow down cannon fodder are nowhere near as interesting as conflicts that make the protagonist bleed (the blood can be metaphorical, as in victory won at a moral or emotional cost).

Also, conflict should not leave a character back at the status quo. Life is conflict, and life is change.

Create exceptional circumstances. Really interesting conflict removes a character from his comfort zone. Take away the Jedi's lightsaber (or better yet, his access to the Force). If your hero relies on guns, cut off his trigger finger. Make the super scientist contend with a magical threat. By hobbling their strengths, you show what your characters are really made of.

Make conflict difficult. Proceeding from the previous two points, it should be clear that challenging conflict is engaging conflict. Only munchkins enjoy riding roughshod over the opposition, and even they don't much care for reading about someone else doing it. Not every challenge your hero faces should equate to disarming a nuclear device while blindfolded, but none of them should be a cakewalk.

Some beginning writers may chafe at this assertion, but raising the difficulty can and sometimes should extend to letting your characters fail. There are few better teachers than defeat. Just make sure you've thought out the consequences of failure and then stick to them.

Give conflict immediacy. The protagonist's struggles should be immediate in terms of timing and intimacy. Don't let the hero resolve the conflict at his leisure. Start the clock ticking. Make the consequences of failure clear right away (and make them dire). Just as importantly, the source of conflict shouldn't be anonymous or random. Make it personal and direct.

Conflict is more than just fighting. I've used mainly physical examples so far because combat is the most readily understood form of conflict. But since conflict is what happens whenever two or more opposing forces vie with each other, the concept admits of many forms. You can have a ritualized or symbolic battle with primarily philosophical stakes. Conflict can even be waged on a purely intellectual, emotional, or spiritual level. Characters needn't trade blows to be in conflict. They just have to be at cross-purposes. In fact, the opposition doesn't have to be a character at all.

To recap: write conflict that is concrete, proximate, meaningful, exceptional, difficult, and immediate. And remember that a character's struggle against his inner demons can be more compelling than a battle scene.

These are just the general guidelines. What do you think makes for an engaging conflict?

Monday, May 13, 2013

There's Always Money in the Banana Stand


Cult tv phenomenon Arrested Development will return on May 26, and the Bluth family's frozen banana stand is making straight its path.

I immediately loved the show when I first saw it on Netflix a couple of years ago. What's that got to do with writing? A lot, actually. Unlike a lot of contemporary comedies, Arrested Development features nuanced characterization and gets most of its laughs from crafted jokes instead of appealing to the lowest common denominator. But those touches aren't the main reason for the show's acclaim.

Arrested Development is noteworthy as a body of writing for mastering self-reflexivity and intertextuality. It's hard to find another narrated tv show whose narrator supplies a host of genuinely funny moments. It does help when the narrator is this guy.

The seminal nature of Arrested Development's first run is well attested by its imitators. It's not uncommon for other networks to copy a successful show's formula. What's odd about this case is that the show in question wasn't exactly successful. It's also hard to point to a single imitator employing a derivative style. Instead, similar postmodern sensibilities have saturated countless series and films in nearly every medium.

I don't claim that Arrested Development was the first tv series to make extensive use of self-referential and intertextual devices. It is, however, the gold standard for postmodern television humor. And although causality is difficult to prove, I've noticed a strong correlation between the show's initial run and a general increase in self-awareness and pop culture references in tv and film.

Friday, May 10, 2013

The Endgame

Despite receiving multiple recommendations from friends and family for years, I delayed reading Ender's Game until just last week. I really wish I'd taken their advice sooner.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card is one of those rare books that leaves a deep impression long after the reader turns the last page. While reading it I kept flashing back to my junior year of high school when I developed a voracious sci-fi habit. Back then I mostly turned to Frank Herbert, Timothy Zahn, and Kevin J. Anderson for a fix. I can't help thinking that Ender's Game would have found an honored place on my book shelf.

People who've read my work say it has noticeable Dune influences. I heartily concur. Herbert had the most enduring impact on my storytelling sensibilities during that formative period. I can only speculate about how Card's magnum opus might have shaped my adolescent view of science fiction.

That's not to say that it won't have an effect now. In the last fifteen years I've learned to consciously mine the works of better writers for new techniques. Card's additions to my literary arsenal remain to be seen, but I doubt they'll be negligible.

Have you read Ender's Game? Are you looking forward to (or dreading) the film version? Let us know.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Nethereal Update

It's been a while since I could report movement on the Nethereal project. All the while I've been busy doing my homework and sending out query letters to those literary agents whom I deem best able to represent the book.

All of my queries were met with form rejections or silence (except for one which offered some encouragement). This pattern of responses isn't unusual. Most folks in the publishing industry are so swamped that they don't have time for individualized feedback.

The pattern of rejection was interrupted yesterday when I got a request for sample pages of my manuscript. The agent asking for a look at my material was the first to receive a query letter I'd drafted using a new approach. Correlation isn't necessarily causality, but it's quite a coincidence. I'm inclined to think that my previous query letters didn't sufficiently entice agents to read the manuscript, but that's how we learn.

I'll keep you updated as new information becomes available.

And if the aforesaid agent pops in, thank you for giving me a chance. Thanks also to anyone who's read my work, even if you couldn't make it past page one.

Monday, May 6, 2013

Watch More TV


My search for the new home of compelling narrative may have turned up an answer that I initially overlooked: TV.

Long regarded as a cultural wasteland, television has recently experienced a creative Renaissance. The movement toward superior writing, acting, and production value is being led by cable networks. By lavishing Hollywood blockbuster-sized budgets on their major projects, the likes of HBO, AMC, FX, and Showtime have managed to attract first rate talent.

Every novelist used to dream of getting a movie deal from a major studio. While that aspiration is still valid, TV has emerged as a medium capable of handling the intricacies of more complex narratives. Game of Thrones and Justified have proven that major cable networks can treat an author's work with greater respect and fidelity than the big studios.

A good friend once suggested that a hypothetical live action interpretation of my own fledgling fantasy universe could only be realized on cable. Recognizing the highly premature timing of such considerations (being as yet unpublished, much less having racked up enough sales to justify attention from other media), I will say that writing for TV has long held a certain appeal for me. I'm primarily a visual thinker: a trait that lends itself better to film and TV scripts than novels.

On the other hand, I've heard it said more than once from people who know what they're talking about that you really should have at least one novel under your belt before they'll let you have a shot at TV.

Is television the new home of challenging fiction? What's your opinion?

Friday, May 3, 2013

Middlemen


Can you think of a supporting character from a novel, TV, or film who really resonated with you--perhaps even more than the main character did? It's a weird phenomenon. The protagonist should be our main point of contact with the story. Secondary characters are there to get the far less glamorous jobs done. They're mediators who advance the plot and act as foils for the main character. That's why writers can get away with making second and third tier characters less well-rounded.

Sometimes supporting characters are strong enough to break out of the background and take center stage. I'm not talking about the Kramers and Boba Fetts of the fiction world, though. Today I'll shine a light on two fictitious second-stringers whose quiet excellence in support of mighty deeds goes largely unsung.

Jor-El
Not even being portrayed by the great Marlon Brando in Richard Donner's landmark 1978 Superman has gained the father of Kal-El the public esteem he deserves. I mentioned that supporting characters are mediators. This is the guy who mediated Superman to us. You're welcome.

Lest you accuse Jor-El of being one-note, he has much more to recommend him than being Superman's dad. Possessing a rare combination of intellectual brilliance and humble wisdom, this accomplished scientist eschewed his people's cold, decadent lifestyle for love of family. Failing to convince Krypton's people of their imminent doom despite his best efforts, Jor-El acted on his countercultural paternal love to give his son and a race of aliens he'd never met a chance at survival.

Remember: Jor-El's vision for Kal-El wasn't limited to flying around in a cape rescuing cats from trees. He knew what a potent symbol Superman could become and hoped that humanity would learn from his son's example.

Finrod Felagund
Chances are this name evokes only dim recognition, if any at all. That's a shame because Finrod is one of the greatest characters in Tolkien's legendarium. The Noldorin prince gets comparatively little page time and always serves a supporting role when he does show up, but his heroic pedigree is impossible to deny.

Finrod is Galadriel's brother. Though she gets far more attention in the Tolkien canon, he is far cooler. While the Lady of Lorien stands around giving wise if cryptic counsel, the Lord of Nargothrond goes out and gets things done. Finrod founded his own kingdom after the family tradition, but he didn't rest on his laurels. He went to battle against Morgoth, gave Barahir his ring to seal a life-debt (the one that Aragorn inherits as a major token of his kingship). Finrod makes good on the debt by joining Beren's quest to steal a Silmaril from Morgoth, during which he goes toe-to-toe with Sauron in a wizard's duel and dies killing a werewolf bare-handed.

Like Jor-El, Finrod's true greatness lies in his strong moral center. He's the only Noldor exile who didn't swear Feanor's oath but left Valinor out of loyalty to his friends. Also unlike the others he didn't stain his hands by slaying his own kin. His compassion and diplomacy paved the way for men's acceptance by and eventual alliance with elves. Loyalty defines Finrod, and Middle-Earth is a poorer place without him.

These are just two secondary characters that don't get nearly enough credit. Can you think of any more?

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Bad Press

My hometown recently experienced flooding along its riverfront. Businesses and homes in a narrow stretch of downtown were affected. I started getting calls at work from business travelers asking me if the roads into town were passable, and if my workplace was underwater. I wondered why so many people had such an overblown conception of the flood's scale. Then I realized that they'd probably heard about the flood on their local news, either directly or secondhand.

An essay published in the Guardian claims that, like anything else, overconsuming news has detrimental effects.

I started suspecting as much when mainstream coverage of the 9/11 attacks turned into a morbid circus. Over a decade later, most major news outlets seem to have abandoned their original mission to keep people informed about events that affect their daily lives. Instead, stories are chosen and broadcast to elicit maximum anxiety, spread propaganda, and increase profits.

Here are a few questions I always keep in mind when consuming any news story:

How is this information relevant to me?

Is this event geographically or morally proximate to me?

What biases are evident in the reporting?

Who is sponsoring this network/newspaper/web site?

In journalism as in most other human enterprises, the old advice rings true: follow the money.

Monday, April 29, 2013

The World's Highest Dev Blog


In his 31 years on this earth, Dean Hall has been a commissioned officer in two branches of the New Zealand armed forces and the developer of popular zombie survival mod DayZ. Now he's plunged himself into a survival situation as grueling as anything in his game: climbing Mount Everest.

I applaud Dean's pursuit of a worthy quest in the finest Middle Earth tradition. While blogging about the unexpectedness, profusion, and constancy of his bloody nasal discharge, Mr. Hall remarked, "I’m also developing a really great concept for a game here…"

If one man could give thunderous applause, you would hear such accolades from me, despite your possible location on another continent. My friends, this is an idea whose time has come. We've endured annual assaults to our sensibilities and wallets posing as American Football simulations. We've seen intriguing yet simplistic attempts to immerse players in virtual sports. The technology exists to bring the real most dangerous game into our living rooms. Only the will was lacking, and Dean Hall seems to be hinting that he intends to deliver.

Admittedly, a motion-controlled mountaineering simulator would have limited appeal. I assure any console manufacturers reading this blog that I would buy a new system just for a Dean Hall mountain climbing game. The single tantalizing sentence at the end of his post rekindles a hope I haven't felt since the demise of U2 Rock Band.

Godspeed, Dean Hall.



Saturday, April 27, 2013

Self-Publishing: Commodity vs. Art

Ebook sales surpassed 20% of the US book market in 2012. Also for the first time, a self-published novel hit number one on the DBW best-seller list. In light of these breakthroughs, the advice from some quarters to skip traditional publishers altogether and make a career strictly from electronic and on-demand publishing is gaining credibility.

For Wool author Hugh Howey, self-publishing is a great writer's best option and a mediocre writer's only option for career success. He posits an invisible army of self-published mid-listers supplementing or replacing their regular incomes with ebook proceeds. Howey's evidence is entirely anecdotal, but the sheer volume of anecdotes isn't to be taken lightly.

Has the long-predicted demise of the New York publishing model come at last? In a word: no. No less a DIY publishing advocate than Dean Wesley Smith believes that the industry has reached a state of equilibrium between electronic, on-demand, and traditional publishing. He shows that the basic business model used by traditional publishers for decades is indispensable, even for authors who become their own publishers. Another telling fact is that almost every high profile self-published author to top the digital best seller lists has signed a print deal with a traditional publisher (including Howey himself).

Jane Friedman points out some of the self-publishing career path's quirks, including the dominance of genre fiction and the perceived need to sacrifice quality for high product volume. In her experience self-publishing openly views books as commodities. Traditional publishers do as well (they are running businesses after all), but they tend to emphasize the artistic aspect of literature.

It's hard to argue with the raw numbers. Self-published authors receive 70% of every ebook sale and retain all the rights to their work. Traditionally published writers get 25% of ebook sales. They also get 12-15% of each print copy's cover price, but only after the advance earns out. Gaining this compensation requires giving away almost all rights to their work. Also, ebooks can theoretically remain available forever, while most print books have a shelf life of six months.

Despite the mathematical proofs, I remain unmoved by the arguments for skipping traditional publishers in favor of self-publishing. Financial gain isn't my primary motive for seeking publication. A fundamental fact of the literary industry is that it's the wrong business to get into if you're in it for the money. I write, edit, and redraft; send query letters and endure rejections because, like Howey said, traditional publishers only accept the top one percent of submissions. Material success does not necessarily denote skill; neither does popularity for that matter.

I am a traditionalist by temperament and conviction. Yes, many aspects of the old publishing model are outdated and simply unjust, but it can be fixed without sacrificing standards (e.g. Norman Spinrad's call for 50% ebook royalties). I don't presume to dictate which approach is right or wrong. Self-publishing works for lots of writers, and I wish them continued success. At this stage though, having Random House buy your manuscript for peanuts still seems like more of an achievement than servicing your boat loan on the profits of a misspelling-riddled teen mystery series.

Those are my current sentiments on self-publishing. I welcome your praise, rebukes, and insights.