Unlikely Allies

Unlikely Allies — Blue Ink Alchemy

It was with a heavy heart that I decided to retire my House of Markov deck. It simply wasn't performing up to my standards. There wasn't much good news following the Avacyn Restored release events, either. My notion for a white-green Humans deck had little to distinguish it or make it truly competitive, and other than [mtg_card]Elspeth Tirel[/mtg_card] had few major threats to speak of. Things started to come together, though, when I paired Elspeth with [mtg_card]Sorin, Lord of Innistrad[/mtg_card]. At first glance, it may be difficult to understand why two such disparate personalities would work together. Elspeth is a driven and skilled warrior with righteousness in her heart and little tolerance for the corrupt, and Sorin is something of a hedonist who's only concerned about Innistrad because it was his plane first, and the vampires he once fostered have gone a little bonkers in his absence. However, as fun as it would be to play out this dynamic, in terms of the card game they have an incredible amount of synergy. Both planeswalkers produce tokens, provide intangible benefits (life and emblems), and have powerful ultimate abilities that can turn the tide of battle. Plus, their colors, white and black, also meet in one of the best token-generating spells in Standard: [mtg_card]Lingering Souls[/mtg_card]. Combined with enhancing cards like [mtg_card]Intangible Virtue[/mtg_card], removal such as [mtg_card]Go for the Throat[/mtg_card], and the deceptively powerful [mtg_card]Vault of the Archangel[/mtg_card], these two form the core of a very solid, very competitive, and very frightening weapon. [mtg_deck title="Vengeance at Dawn"] Creatures 4 Doomed Traveler 3 Hero of Bladehold 2 Bloodline Keeper Spells 4 Gather the Townsfolk 4 Lingering Souls 4 Intangible Virtue 3 Midnight Haunting 3 Go for the Throat 3 Oblivion Ring 2 Day of Judgment Planeswalkers 2 Sorin, Lord of Innistrad 2 Elspeth Tirel Lands 11 Plains 7 Swamp 4 Isolated Chapel 2 Vault of the Archangel Sideboard 3 Revoke Existence 3 Celestial Purge 3 Doom Blade 2 Terminus 2 Grafdigger's Cage 2 Banishing Stroke [/mtg_deck] The most important part is, of course, that I love playing this deck. It's very rare for me to be in a position where I feel helpless. It has not won every match, but every loss was a close game that left both me and my opponent smiling. And that's really what it's all about, isn't it? As much as I like Vengeance at Dawn, I do have another idea for a deck that has nothing to do with tokens, plays to my colors of choice, includes perhaps my favorite planeswalker, and may give my opponents nightmares instead of smiles.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

An Open Letter to C. Matthew, Re: The Departed

An Open Letter to C. Matthew, Re: The Departed — Blue Ink Alchemy

Dear Confused Matthew, With all due respect, sir, I disagree. I was under the impression I'd said all that was necessary about Martin Scorsese's The Departed in my own review of the film. However, your recent embarkation upon an anti-Departed tirade has inspired me to go a little more in depth on the film. I will admit, the dialog which makes up the bulk of what grabs your attention is filled with non-sequitors and profanity, and this may be something of a turn-off or make the film seem unsofisticated. There is, however, context to the story that makes this apparent verbal diharrea make sense. Now, I'm aware of the fact that I could simply be reading too much into the events of The Departed. I may also be making a mountain out of a molehill and what follows could be construed as me doning white armor to ride to the rescue of a filmmaker and/or screenwriter who need no rescuing. However, as someone who regularly hands himself a severe beating for telling instead of showing and fancies himself a storyteller of at least some merit, I'd like to talk about Sergeant Dingham and how his character is more than he might seem. The sheer amount of bluster this career cop dispenses at any given moment can be off-putting at the very least, and most of the time is geared to be antagonistic. Dingham goes out of his way to appear uninterested in making friends or even being easy to work with. If you were to take him strictly at face value and invests zero time in actually getting to know him a little bit rather than succumbing feelings of confusion or hostility, he'd push you away faster than a six-foot-wide bouncer minding the backstage door at a LMFAO concert. Wait, sorry, Maroon 5. I get those two confused sometimes. The fact is, however, it's all a front. In a story where people are not who they appear to be, anybody with more than a few lines that rises above cameo status is going to show at least some dicotomy. Leo & Matt's characters are the biggest examples, Jack Nicholson plays a charismatic crime boss who's quietly going crazy and growing increasingly bored with his own bullshit a la Scarface, and the chief appears to be a hard-nosed no-nonsense type who thinks nothing of opening his home to someone who'd get him killed if they were seen talking for more than two seconds. As for Dingham, under the gruff and razor-sharp exterior is a man who cares very deeply about the men under his command. A few lines at the end of his first scene with Leo, his reaction to a federal demand for knowledge of undercover officers and the look on his face at the movie's end are all you need to discern who he really us under all the swearing and swagger. It's showing, not telling. Most of this is gleaned from seeing these men in different situations and how they react to certain stimuli, not just letting their dialog fill up our ears without allowing things to process. Writers and critics can bang on and on about the merits of showing over telling but without a good example it can be difficult to illustrate. The Departed has got a very good one. Instead of the Star Wars prequels where characters spout emotion in boldface or The Matrix sequels where true human motivation is lost in hyperbole and post-structuralist drivel, this film has a measure of depth to it. However, the waters are so dark and populated with such predatory creatures that it seems you've walked away dismissing the entire affair in the same vein you have the aforementioned cinematic abortions. You've even fallen into your trademark habit of attacking the screenwriter by acting in a condescending manner and taking refuge in low-brow derogatory humor, just as I did two paragraphs ago. This is unfortunate, but we're all entitled to our opinions. I don't want to give the impression that you looking at The Departed's very visceral and emotional storytelling and declaring it an over-reactionary profane mess is by any means wrong. You can interpret any film you watch or any entertainment you enjoy any way you like. That's the beauty of having your own mind and your own opinion. It's just an interpretation I disagree with. Don't get me wrong; I'm not trying to be some sort of film snob who thinks every single film or novel or video game has to have deep intellectual meaning. I certainly don't play the games Section 8 or League of Legends for their stories, and I don't believe Thor or Bunraku have any sort of lasting life lessons to teach or any commentary on the human condition to provoke lingering thought, yet I enjoy them. It's simply that when I see a storytelling endeavor that plays just as much beneath the surface as it does on top of it, and only the surface is taken to have value while the rest is seemingly ignored, I feel a disservice is being done and a counterpoint should be made. I hope that you found this counterargument at least interesting, and if not I'm sure it will be quickly forgotten. I'd like to think I made something resembling a point. Despite my disagreement with you on this film, I admire you for the consistency of your material and your fascinating discussions on philosophy and while I may not always agree with what you say, I applaud you for having the balls to say it. I wish you nothing but the best in your future productions & endeavors. Sincerely, The Blue Ink Alchemist

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Wordbender: On Toph and the Earth Kingdom

Wordbender: On Toph and the Earth Kingdom — Blue Ink Alchemy

Book 2 of Avatar: the Last Airbender is even more tightly constructed than Book 1. As Team Avatar depart the North Pole to make contact with the vast but troubled Earth Kingdom, each member has individual goals and conflicts as well as the overall "saving the world" thing. Sokka continues to feel overshadowed by the two benders, Katara worries about the well-being of her brother and the Avatar as she struggles to master her arts, and Aang needs to find an earthbending teacher, trusting Katara's natural ability and obvious passion to show him the ways of waterbending. Earthbending will not come easy to Aang. Earth is air's opposite, and proves just as stubborn as air is fluid and formless. With the world established in Book 1, Book 2 takes more time to flesh out our heroes as well as the villains and those in the middle, which I really appreciate. Aang's fear of his own potential in the form of the Avatar State contrasts very nicely with the inner conflict of Prince Zuko, who continues to search for his own identity. Making characters continue to feel new, interesting, and compelling after almost 50 episodes is no mean feat, and The Last Airbender makes it look easy. It's not all old business, however, as Book 2 not only sees many returning characters but also introduces us to new ones. Perhaps the most prominent of them is Toph. I love Toph. She's Aang's earthbending teacher, a straight-shooting cynic with an adoration for brawling and a tomboyish streak that neatly contrasts Katara's more feminine aspects. She's also called 'the Blind Bandit' because, without sight, she 'sees' through the earth, sensing vibrations in rock and everything from the tiniest pebble to the mightiest boulder. Even in situations where she's not in contact with solid ground (flying on Appa, for example), she never expects special treatment for her handicap. Indeed, Sokka often forgets she's blind. Rather than be restricted, she turns a weakness into a strength, at the very least playing it for laughs instead of drawing attention to it for extra sympathy or other advantages. And the strong females don't stop with Team Avatar. The big threat of Book 2, Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, is a conniving critical thinker, a master of manipulation and deceit, and a deadly opponent with mastery of firebending so potent she can focus it into lightning. She is often accompanied by Ty Lee, a gymnast with an encyclopedic knowledge of pressure points which deprives opponents of movement or bending, and Mai, a noble-born young woman with a penchant for thrown weapons that allows her to best multiple opponents even if they're benders. Not only do they present an amplified threat to Team Avatar, Azula further complicates Zuko's deepening conflict, often appearing when he is at his weakest with honeyed words that have caused him, in the past, to repeat to himself the words "Azula always lies". Needless to say, I cannot wait for Book 3.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Wordbender: On Toph and the Earth Tribe

Wordbender: On Toph and the Earth Tribe — Blue Ink Alchemy

Book 2 of Avatar: the Last Airbender is even more tightly constructed than Book 1. As Team Avatar depart the North Pole to make contact with the vast but troubled Earth Kingdom, each member has individual goals and conflicts as well as the overall "saving the world" thing. Sokka continues to feel overshadowed by the two benders, Katara worries about the well-being of her brother and the Avatar as she struggles to master her arts, and Aang needs to find an earthbending teacher, trusting Katara's natural ability and obvious passion to show him the ways of waterbending. Earthbending will not come easy to Aang. Earth is air's opposite, and proves just as stubborn as air is fluid and formless. With the world established in Book 1, Book 2 takes more time to flesh out our heroes as well as the villains and those in the middle, which I really appreciate. Aang's fear of his own potential in the form of the Avatar State contrasts very nicely with the inner conflict of Prince Zuko, who continues to search for his own identity. Making characters continue to feel new, interesting, and compelling after almost 50 episodes is no mean feat, and The Last Airbender makes it look easy. It's not all old business, however, as Book 2 not only sees many returning characters but also introduces us to new ones. Perhaps the most prominent of them is Toph. I love Toph. She's Aang's earthbending teacher, a straight-shooting cynic with an adoration for brawling and a tomboyish streak that neatly contrasts Katara's more feminine aspects. She's also called 'the Blind Bandit' because, without sight, she 'sees' through the earth, sensing vibrations in rock and everything from the tiniest pebble to the mightiest boulder. Even in situations where she's not in contact with solid ground (flying on Appa, for example), she never expects special treatment for her handicap. Indeed, Sokka often forgets she's blind. Rather than be restricted, she turns a weakness into a strength, at the very least playing it for laughs instead of drawing attention to it for extra sympathy or other advantages. And the strong females don't stop with Team Avatar. The big threat of Book 2, Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, is a conniving critical thinker, a master of manipulation and deceit, and a deadly opponent with mastery of firebending so potent she can focus it into lightning. She is often accompanied by Ty Lee, a gymnast with an encyclopedic knowledge of pressure points which deprives opponents of movement or bending, and Mai, a noble-born young woman with a penchant for thrown weapons that allows her to best multiple opponents even if they're benders. Not only do they present an amplified threat to Team Avatar, Azula further complicates Zuko's deepening conflict, often appearing when he is at his weakest with honeyed words that have caused him, in the past, to repeat to himself the words "Azula always lies". Needless to say, I cannot wait for Book 3.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: One Random Sentence

Flash Fiction: One Random Sentence — Blue Ink Alchemy

Chuck's challenge gave me the following:

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"The actor biases an applicable troop." He stared at himself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. This had been his plan, arranging all those extra ticket sales down at the precinct house. It wouldn't be that hard to play up certain angles of his performance, and if he could make staid folks cry every night in those seats, he could do the same to the cops. Or so he kept telling himself. He had no idea if this was even going to work. Even saying the notion out loud felt weird. He was about to go on stage for another production of this experiment in musical theater, and as much as he believed in the production and his role, he was uncertain it'd be anything more than a curiosity to the men and women intending to protect and serve out there in the dark. Scooter (not his real name, everybody just called him that) stuck his head in the dressing room to tell him it was five minutes to curtain. The actor took a deep breath and stood. There was only one way to find out if he could do anything at all to help his little brother.

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Paul wandered away from the reception hall towards the auditorium. Sure, meeting the director and the actors was interesting, and the food half-decent, but something gnawed at him. With his hands in the pockets of his off-the-rack slacks, he slowly paced around the empty seats, lost in thought. "You ever been up on stage, Paul?" He shook his head, not even looking up at his partner. "Nope. Never really had much interest." "I did, a couple times, in high school." Matt looked up at the empty stage with a smile. "There's a lot of fun, a lot of freedom, that comes with that lifestyle." "Why'd you become a cop, then?" "To help people. My mom and I never had much, and we lived in a rough part of town. It was all she could afford. We had our place broken into more than once and it never seemed like the police could catch the bad guys, but they always tried and were always good to us. I figured I'd see if I could succeed where they failed." "Seems you did, considering you're on homicide, now." "Yeah." Matt looked his partner over. "What's your reason?" Paul paused, looking at the stage himself. "My little brother. He was a bit of delinquent. Whenever we'd play 'Cops and Robbers', he was always the robber. When he went to jail at age 16 on a petty misdemeanor I paid him a visit. I was already a patrolman at the time. I told him if he was sick of the cells and the food and the big guys who like to drop soap to see if you'll pick it up, he could join the academy and I'd vouch for him. I didn't think he'd go for it, but he did." He turned to Matt. "He's the reason we were here. He got us tickets." "He's a good kid. I'm glad you helped him turn around." "Yeah, but something's bothering me. You know the Anderson case?" Matt nodded. "How could I forget? Guy stabs his lady in her apartment and makes off with some jewelry to make it look like a robbery. But that's Flannaghan's case, isn't it?" "It is, but something's not right about it. Where's the swag if it wasn't actually stolen? And I don't buy the kitchen knife as a murder weapon. The medical examiner said the wounds were quick, deep punctures. The width's all wrong for a kitchen knife." "Steak knife, maybe?" "Maybe. But it's a stretch. Plus, there's the broken latch on the kitchen window." "Didn't Anderson say it was always broken?" "He said it wasn't sure. I read the report." Matt blinked. "That's Flannaghan's case, Paul. He's senior detective. He could make a huge stink over something like that!" "I had to. Here, look at this." Paul pulled the program for the musical out of his pocket. "See who's in the lead role?" "Wesley Anderson." Matt exchanged a look with his partner. "A relative?" "A brother." Matt looked away, rubbing his forehead. "I get it... in the production he's playing a man falsely accused of murdering someone he loves, and he's so broken up over it he considers himself guilty. It was his tools that did it, not the man himself..." "I know it's different circumstances, and the play's a work of fiction, but I can't help but wonder what I would do, remember what I have done, for a brother in need." Matt laid a hand on Paul's shoulder. "Look. I'm your partner, and I trust you. If you think Anderson didn't do it, I'm with you. But Flannaghan's convinced. We'll need to look into his case, turn over all of his evidence. He's going to catch wind, and when he does, we're going to catch hell." Paul thought back to his brother, behind the glass of the jail's visitation room, looking drawn and haggard, not as defiant or quietly assured as the other criminals. He didn't belong there. There had been photos of Anderson in the file, mug shots and interrogation room pictures, photos of a man haunted by what he'd seen but not necessarily what he'd done. He didn't belong there, either. Paul was sure of it. "I think we can find the answers, Matt. I think we can help people, and do some real justice. But you don't have to come with me. It's up to you." Matt looked at his partner evenly. "If you think I'm going to let you do this alone, you've got another thing coming." Paul smiled, and looked at the stage one last time. He wanted to find the actor and thank him, but he knew they had a lot of work to do, and the more quickly they did it, the less chance they had of failure. "We better get to it, then."

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Blue Ink Alchemy

In Memoriam 2012

In Memoriam 2012 — Blue Ink Alchemy

I know it may seem a bit lazy to rehash an old post, but this one is special and my sentiments towards our veterans has not changed. It's likely I'll do the same this Independence Day, but we'll set off those fireworks when we get to them. In the meantime, please read, enjoy, and remember. Thank you.

"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." - George Santayana We have the country we have today because people got pissed off enough to fight for it. I think this country has a long way to go before it fixes all the bridges that have nearly been burnt to the ground because of the actions we've taken in the name of securing our borders. That doesn't mean that the men and women who died in service to the country should not be remembered, or that their sacrifice should be downplayed or marginalized. They were called upon to do their duty, to fight while others stand idle, and they answered. America's military is based entirely on volunteer service. People enlist for various reasons, from pure-hearted desire to serve the country to paying for a college education. And those who can already afford college can embark upon a career as an officer right from the start. The important fact, though, is that none of it is compulsory. Nobody is making these young men and women sign up for service that could ultimately mean they're going to die far from home, in some foreign land, possibly alone with no one to remember them save for a line item in a report listing them as "Missing In Action". Other countries compel their citizens to join the military from an early age. There's no choice in the matter. Regardless of how you feel about your country, you're going to be serving in its military. As much as I admire Heinlein, the idea of compulsory military service being the only route to citizenship is a pretty scary one. But unless I'm mistaken, no country has gone completely that far yet. Here, though, every person who puts on that uniform, male or female, young or old, gay or straight, left or right, does so for the same reason. They want to serve. They chose to answer the call to duty. Nobody made them. And if they died on a foreign shore, they did so as the ultimate result of that choice. As lonely, painful, cold and dark as it might have been for them, it is a deep hope of mine that they do not consider themselves forgotten. We have not forgotten. Wars are horrible things. The necessity of force to further political or economic gain is an indication that cooler heads and well-spoken reason have not prevailed over base, animalistic instincts. Canny leaders and generals will at least do what they can to end the fight as quickly and directly as possible. Sun-Tzu teaches us "There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare." He was right 2000 years ago and he's right today. However, this doesn't mean that those that fight in wars are as horrible as the wars they fight. Indeed, war can show the very best of human nature. Comrades helping one another through the battlefield, nobility in the face of unstoppable odds, compassion for one's enemies; these are all things I feel we do not see or read often enough. In the pages of dry, procedural after-action reports are many such stories yet untold. In finding and telling them, we help to remember what it is to be a volunteer soldier, to choose to fight, to exemplify in our conflicts who we are as a country and what we stand for. It's probably my idealism creeping back into my rhetoric, but I'd like to think that, more often than not, on the front lines in foreign lands, the men and women of the American military 'being all they can be' means professionalism, respect, audacity and resolve. These volunteers should represent the best and bravest of us. They chose to defend our interests and our country, and we in turn are compelled to remember. For them it was voluntary; for us, back at home, living our lifestyles the way we are due to countless sacrifices born of their choices, remembering feels compulsory. To all the men and women of the past and present who have chosen to serve America, making sacrifices from a few lost years to the one that means you'll never see us again: Thank you, and God bless you.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

In Memoriam 2012

In Memoriam 2012 — Blue Ink Alchemy

I know it may seem a bit lazy to rehash an old post, but this one is special and my sentiments to wards our veterans has not changed. It's likely I'll do the same this Independence Day, but we'll set off those fireworks when we get to them. In the meantime, please read, enjoy, and remember. Thank you. ~ Josh, 28 May 2012 "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." - George Santayana We have the country we have today because people got pissed off enough to fight for it. I think this country has a long way to go before it fixes all the bridges that have nearly been burnt to the ground because of the actions we've taken in the name of securing our borders. That doesn't mean that the men and women who died in service to the country should not be remembered, or that their sacrifice should be downplayed or marginalized. They were called upon to do their duty, to fight while others stand idle, and they answered. America's military is based entirely on volunteer service. People enlist for various reasons, from pure-hearted desire to serve the country to paying for a college education. And those who can already afford college can embark upon a career as an officer right from the start. The important fact, though, is that none of it is compulsory. Nobody is making these young men and women sign up for service that could ultimately mean they're going to die far from home, in some foreign land, possibly alone with no one to remember them save for a line item in a report listing them as "Missing In Action". Other countries compel their citizens to join the military from an early age. There's no choice in the matter. Regardless of how you feel about your country, you're going to be serving in its military. As much as I admire Heinlein, the idea of compulsory military service being the only route to citizenship is a pretty scary one. But unless I'm mistaken, no country has gone completely that far yet. Here, though, every person who puts on that uniform, male or female, young or old, gay or straight, left or right, does so for the same reason. They want to serve. They chose to answer the call to duty. Nobody made them. And if they died on a foreign shore, they did so as the ultimate result of that choice. As lonely, painful, cold and dark as it might have been for them, it is a deep hope of mine that they do not consider themselves forgotten. We have not forgotten. Wars are horrible things. The necessity of force to further political or economic gain is an indication that cooler heads and well-spoken reason have not prevailed over base, animalistic instincts. Canny leaders and generals will at least do what they can to end the fight as quickly and directly as possible. Sun-Tzu teaches us "There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare." He was right 2000 years ago and he's right today. However, this doesn't mean that those that fight in wars are as horrible as the wars they fight. Indeed, war can show the very best of human nature. Comrades helping one another through the battlefield, nobility in the face of unstoppable odds, compassion for one's enemies; these are all things I feel we do not see or read often enough. In the pages of dry, procedural after-action reports are many such stories yet untold. In finding and telling them, we help to remember what it is to be a volunteer soldier, to choose to fight, to exemplify in our conflicts who we are as a country and what we stand for. It's probably my idealism creeping back into my rhetoric, but I'd like to think that, more often than not, on the front lines in foreign lands, the men and women of the American military 'being all they can be' means professionalism, respect, audacity and resolve. These volunteers should represent the best and bravest of us. They chose to defend our interests and our country, and we in turn are compelled to remember. For them it was voluntary; for us, back at home, living our lifestyles the way we are due to countless sacrifices born of their choices, remembering feels compulsory. To all the men and women of the past and present who have chosen to serve America, making sacrifices from a few lost years to the one that means you'll never see us again: Thank you, and God bless you.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Rewrite Report: Next Steps

Rewrite Report: Next Steps — Blue Ink Alchemy

Courtesy Floating Robes Weighing in at 39,574 words, the rewrite of Cold Iron is complete. I'm going to be inviting test readers to take another crack at the work. Invites will go out over the next day or two. The goal is to only have some minor tweaks to make here and there throughout the story, provided it actually works and is not terrible. Once any edits that arise from the test reads are complete, it's on to severely untested waters: preparing for publication. I have some cover photography from the inimitable J.R. Blackwell, and a graphic designer interested in actually making the cover look presentable. I don't trust my own rudimentary Photoshop skills and untrained eye to put together a cover that's professional, appealing, and in line with the story's mood and themes. If I'm going to do this e-publication thing, I'm not going to be a scrub about it. I'm also going to ask some people I know (or kind of know at least) to do review reads. I'd like to get a couple snippets of impressions, hopefully good ones, which can then be used for promotional purposes. Thinking your story is great is one thing; having someone who actually knows what they're doing say it's worth reading is quite another. This is uncharted territory for me. A part of me wants to just call the whole thing done and start up new and exciting projects, even if it's just fan fiction or game character backstories or running around the house naked covered in marshmellow fluff. But I need to reign that shit in. The writing may be (mostly) done, but the project's not near finished. Not yet. And by God, I will finish what I start. Good wishes, offers to test/review read Cold Iron, and general shenanigans are quite welcome.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Rewrite Report: Next Steps

Rewrite Report: Next Steps — Blue Ink Alchemy

Courtesy Floating Robes Weighing in at 39,574 words, the rewrite of Cold Iron is complete. I'm going to be inviting test readers to take another crack at the work. Invites will go out over the next day or two. The goal is to only have some minor tweaks to make here and there throughout the story, provided it actually works and is not terrible. Once any edits that arise from the test reads are complete, it's on to severely untested waters: preparing for publication. I have some cover photography from the inimitable J.R. Blackwell, and a graphic designer interested in actually making the cover look presentable. I don't trust my own rudimentary Photoshop skills and untrained eye to put together a cover that's professional, appealing, and in line with the story's mood and themes. If I'm going to do this e-publication thing, I'm not going to be a scrub about it. I'm also going to ask some people I know (or kind of know at least) to do review reads. I'd like to get a couple snippets of impressions, hopefully good ones, which can then be used for promotional purposes. Thinking your story is great is one thing; having someone who actually knows what they're doing say it's worth reading is quite another. This is uncharted territory for me. A part of me wants to just call the whole thing done and start up new and exciting projects, even if it's just fan fiction or game character backstories or running around the house naked covered in marshmellow fluff. But I need to reign that shit in. The writing may be (mostly) done, but the project's not near finished. Not yet. And by God, I will finish what I start. Good wishes, offers to test/review read Cold Iron, and general shenanigans are quite welcome.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

What Characters Feel

What Characters Feel — Blue Ink Alchemy

As much as I like to judge the ultimate merits of a character by their relationships, we also learn a great deal about a character from the way they deal with, or ignore, their emotions. We may put up a brave front in the face of friends, competitors, or even close relatives and spouses, but in the end, we are who we are in the dark. Our characters are no different. Conflict gives weight, drive, and meaning to any drama unfolding before us, and that conflict need not be with another character. An individual can be conflicted over their emotions, especially if they interfere with or threaten to override one's duty. If you've ever seen the television show Chuck, you know what I'm talking about. The main character shows a great range of emotions, one of his handlers struggles to keep her feelings to herself, and the other handler seems all but emotionless outside of a general level of seething rage. It's part of that show's appeal. Equilibrium isn't the best movie I've ever seen, but it does touch on some very real aspects of the human condition and how we process, explore, and control our emotions. Like many fascist notions, the idea of suppressing or eliminating emotion has some merit, as it would definitely cut down on things like war, fanaticism, murder, and rape. However, doing so at the cost of artistic impulse, love, compassion, and camaraderie is too high. The human mind can look to defend itself, but the heart longs to feel, even if the brain tells it that being harmed is inevitable. It can be difficult to relate to characters if they show no emotion. I think this is more a problem in video games than anywhere else. Previously, technology limited how much a character could emote, but modern techniques continue to bring us more life-like expressions, exchanges of dialog, and moments of introspection in the midst of all the action. Granted, this happens more in RPGs than it does in first-person shooters, but there's no reason we can't have our emotional cake and eat it, too. One of the big problems I had with later Halo games is that it was very hard for me to relate to Master Chief; the guy seems to run more on batteries than he does a human circulatory system. Heroes without emotions are just straight-up boring. It's entirely possible to go too far in the other direction, though. For years, Samus Aran showed little to no emotion in the Metroid games, and then Metroid Other M comes along to give Samus a voice and show us how it might feel to have an alien serial killer resembling a pterodactyl harass, assault, and victimize you at every turn. Reactions to this insight into her character were mixed, to say the least, and I can say very little about it as I have yet to play the game myself. But suffice it to say that, for many, it was simply too much. What characters strike the right emotional balance for you? What's a great example of showing an audience what and how characters feel?

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The Call of Diablo

The Call of Diablo — Blue Ink Alchemy

It's been a week now, and so far I've resisted the call of Diablo. Diablo III continues to make headlines, and not always in a positive way. I've been trying to curb my extraneous spending a bit since PAX, both to recover from that phenomenal trip and to save for the upcoming move. But I can't deny I've noticed just how many people I know are playing the latest action-RPG from Blizzard and Activision. I can definitely understand why, as I've played more than my share of its predecessor and the expansion. The gameplay is the right mix of mindless leveling-and-looting catharsis fresh from the most basic of D&D campaigns and interesting storytelling in a fascinating setting. Seriously, Diablo tends to nail the 'dark gothic' atmosphere other games strive for. The Witcher also does this well, while Dragon Age and Kingdoms of Amalur just feel like more regular fantasy settings with extra blood spattered on. It also helps that the story itself is rather nuanced, with interesting characters and prevailing themes of power, betrayal, deception, and the struggle against hopelessness. Diablo III looks to very much carry on all of these traditions. So why aren't I playing it? The first indicator that something was off in Diablo III came from the character designs. For the most part, they're fine, good examples of Blizzard's art direction, but the Witch Doctor gave me pause. A character basing their attacks on hexes and summoning minions, not unlike Diablo II's Necromancer, and the best design Blizzard could come up with was a half-naked dark-skinned man with a bone in his nose? I'm sure they wanted to differentiate the class from the others in the game as well as the Necromancer, but there's no law saying characters like this have to look a certain way. I mean, consider Dr. Facilier from Disney's The Princess and the Frog: Back in Diablo II the character of color was the stalwart, righteous paladin, a role usually given to generically handsome white men. To do the stereotypical Witch Doctor thing felt like a step backwards, and gave me a measure of pause. That said, I did try the beta for a few hours and found the gameplay to be just fine. I could see myself playing it for hours, to experience the story and collect loot, but my next problem came up in the form of the always-online aspect. I know that Diablo has a very heavy and lively multiplayer scene. It makes sense that you'd want to have an Internet connection to be a part of it. Requiring said connection for single-player, however, puzzled me. While logging achievements and downloading patches are part and parcel of gaming these days, requiring a constant connection to a remote server to play a game by yourself that you've purchased strikes me as somewhat silly. This was confirmed for me on launch, when the Blizzard servers collapsed under the onslaught of people wanting to play their new game and kept everyone from playing it. People paid $60 US or more for the privilege of playing Diablo III, and the very developers of the game said "Nope, sorry, you can't play it now, not even in single player, no matter how much money you've already paid us. We'll fix it... eventually. But hey, you don't have to worry about those nasty pirates right now!" Of course when people did manage to get connected, many found their accounts had already been phished, hacked, or otherwise compromised. This probably could have been at least somewhat mitigated if people could play single player without the constant connection. Finally, there's the real-money auction house. Now, I'm not above making more than one contribution to a game I enjoy playing. I've bought points for skins in League of Legends and gold for items in Tribes: Ascend. However, the monetization of an in-game auction house feels a bit sketchy to me. Asking people to perhaps invest in some cosmetic character changes or a hot new item by purchasing them directly from the developer is one thing. Taking a cut directly from the cash made by players as they exchange items is quite another. As far as I know, the RMAH isn't active yet, and I know it's an optional thing that I wouldn't have to get involved with, but just knowing it's there makes me uncomfortable. Put it all together, and you have the reasons why I've resisted the call of Diablo. It's a shame, because from the beta, I could see the potential for the game to be fun. I played a Monk for a few hours and punching minions so hard they explode was very satisfying. However, between the design decisions, the idiotic always-connected aspect, and the rather seedy RMAH, I can say I won't be playing Diablo III.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Bond Basics

Bond Basics — Blue Ink Alchemy

You know what I like about this Skyfall poster? It juxtaposes the classic image of the camera lens/gun barrel of Bond's films with the stoic, no-nonsense stride of Daniel Craig. It indicates to me that the filmmakers are taking extra steps to connect this 21st-century iteration of the British superspy with his roots. Since my favorite Bond is still Sean Connery, followed closely by Craig, I'm a big fan of the very notion. Between the two of them, they're the closest the films have been to Ian Fleming's original vision of James Bond. Fleming's Bond was, in the broad strokes, a very British version of the pulp hard-boiled detective popular in the 50s and 60s. Fueled by cigarettes and martinis, Bond was a professional assassin wrapped in a fine suit, maintaining his cover through flippant remarks and dalliances with women. Securely rooted in Fleming's own real-world experiences with British intelligence and military operations, it had a sense of realism to it that underscored the action and raised the tension. Sean Connery did a fantastic job balancing the stoic, professional interior and suave exterior required for Bond. Following Fleming's death, however, the films began to change. With Roger Moore replacing Connery and the society of the time being all about glitz, glamour, and swinging, James Bond became all about the image, with cool gadgets and a parade of disposable women becoming his weapons against a rather colorful if somewhat shallow rogue's gallery of cartoonish villains. While I'm never one to disparage camp, and think Moore's Bond films are fine, it's clear that they're a departure from Fleming's original intent for the character. While Timothy Dalton and Pierce Brosnan both made attempts to make the character a bit more grounded, elements of Moore's years lingered. It wasn't until Casino Royale in 2006 that James Bond returned to his basics, and in fact the very beginning. The film stayed very close to the thread of the novel, and Daniel Craig showed Bond as somewhat inexperienced, a little raw and unrefined; he isn't wearing the suit until Vesper puts him in it, and even then he's not comfortable with it at first. Even Roger Moore himself praised the new Bond. After re-establishing himself, though, Bond struggled to find his identity in the day and age of Jason Bourne, with this film and Quantum of Solace only standing out because of Craig and his character's relationship with Dame Judi Dench as M. While the last two films seemed to focus mostly on Bond being an international force for good, even if he is somewhat brutish in his ultimate methods, Skyfall looks to be bringing things home. Even the brief glimpse of the teaser released this week shows a Bond we may not have seen in years, if we've seen him before at all: [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24mTIE4D9JM] Other than the plethora of very British images, the fantastic word association bit lets us just a bit into Bond's mind. When confronted with the word 'Skyfall', Bond does not betray emotion or flip the table; he simply, politely, and firmly ends the session and walks away. We see international locals with a very definite sense of identity (something Quantum of Solace was lacking) and Bond appears to be very calmly and confidently going about his business. I know it's just a teaser, and it never does to get one's hopes up, it seems clear to me that director Sam Mendes (American Beauty, Road to Perdition, Jarhead) and cinematographer Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption, Fargo, Jarhead, True Grit) are on to something. This is the most excited I've been for a Bond film in quite some time. I look forward to seeing it in October.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Bond Basics

Bond Basics — Blue Ink Alchemy

You know what I like about this Skyfall poster? It juxtaposes the classic image of the camera lens/gun barrel of Bond's films with the stoic, no-nonsense stride of Daniel Craig. It indicates to me that the filmmakers are taking extra steps to connect this 21st-century iteration of the British superspy with his roots. Since my favorite Bond is still Sean Connery, followed closely by Craig, I'm a big fan of the very notion. Between the two of them, they're the closest the films have been to Ian Fleming's original vision of James Bond. Fleming's Bond was, in the broad strokes, a very British version of the pulp hard-boiled detective popular in the 50s and 60s. Fueled by cigarettes and martinis, Bond was a professional assassin wrapped in a fine suit, maintaining his cover through flippant remarks and dalliances with women. Securely rooted in Fleming's own real-world experiences with British intelligence and military operations, it had a sense of realism to it that underscored the action and raised the tension. Sean Connery did a fantastic job balancing the stoic, professional interior and suave exterior required for Bond. Following Fleming's death, however, the films began to change. With Roger Moore replacing Connery and the society of the time being all about glitz, glamour, and swinging, James Bond became all about the image, with cool gadgets and a parade of disposable women becoming his weapons against a rather colorful if somewhat shallow rogue's gallery of cartoonish villains. While I'm never one to disparage camp, and think Moore's Bond films are fine, it's clear that they're a departure from Fleming's original intent for the character. While Timothy Dalton and Pierce Brosnan both made attempts to make the character a bit more grounded, elements of Moore's years lingered. It wasn't until Casino Royale in 2006 that James Bond returned to his basics, and in fact the very beginning. The film stayed very close to the thread of the novel, and Daniel Craig showed Bond as somewhat inexperienced, a little raw and unrefined; he isn't wearing the suit until Vesper puts him in it, and even then he's not comfortable with it at first. Even Roger Moore himself praised the new Bond. After re-establishing himself, though, Bond struggled to find his identity in the day and age of Jason Bourne, with this film and Quantum of Solace only standing out because of Craig and his character's relationship with Dame Judi Dench as M. While the last two films seemed to focus mostly on Bond being an international force for good, even if he is somewhat brutish in his ultimate methods, Skyfall looks to be bringing things home. Even the brief glimpse of the teaser released this week shows a Bond we may not have seen in years, if we've seen him before at all: [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24mTIE4D9JM] Other than the plethora of very British images, the fantastic word association bit lets us just a bit into Bond's mind. When confronted with the word 'Skyfall', Bond does not betray emotion or flip the table; he simply, politely, and firmly ends the session and walks away. We see international locals with a very definite sense of identity (something Quantum of Solace was lacking) and Bond appears to be very calmly and confidently going about his business. I know it's just a teaser, and it never does to get one's hopes up, it seems clear to me that director Sam Mendes (American Beauty, Road to Perdition, Jarhead) and cinematographer Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption, Fargo, Jarhead, True Grit) are on to something. This is the most excited I've been for a Bond film in quite some time. I look forward to seeing it in October.

---

Blue Ink Alchemy

Bond Basics

Bond Basics — Blue Ink Alchemy

You know what I like about this Skyfall poster? It juxtaposes the classic image of the camera lens/gun barrel of Bond's films with the stoic, no-nonsense stride of Daniel Craig. It indicates to me that the filmmakers are taking extra steps to connect this 21st-century iteration of the British superspy with his roots. Since my favorite Bond is still Sean Connery, followed closely by Craig, I'm a big fan of the very notion. Between the two of them, they're the closest the films have been to Ian Fleming's original vision of James Bond. Fleming's Bond was, in the broad strokes, a very British version of the pulp hard-boiled detective popular in the 50s and 60s. Fueled by cigarettes and martinis, Bond was a professional assassin wrapped in a fine suit, maintaining his cover through flippant remarks and dalliances with women. Securely rooted in Fleming's own real-world experiences with British intelligence and military operations, it had a sense of realism to it that underscored the action and raised the tension. Sean Connery did a fantastic job balancing the stoic, professional interior and suave exterior required for Bond. Following Fleming's death, however, the films began to change. With Roger Moore replacing Connery and the society of the time being all about glitz, glamour, and swinging, James Bond became all about the image, with cool gadgets and a parade of disposable women becoming his weapons against a rather colorful if somewhat shallow rogue's gallery of cartoonish villains. While I'm never one to disparage camp, and think Moore's Bond films are fine, it's clear that they're a departure from Fleming's original intent for the character. While Timothy Dalton and Pierce Brosnan both made attempts to make the character a bit more grounded, elements of Moore's years lingered. It wasn't until Casino Royale in 2006 that James Bond returned to his basics, and in fact the very beginning. The film stayed very close to the thread of the novel, and Daniel Craig showed Bond as somewhat inexperienced, a little raw and unrefined; he isn't wearing the suit until Vesper puts him in it, and even then he's not comfortable with it at first. Even Roger Moore himself praised the new Bond. After re-establishing himself, though, Bond struggled to find his identity in the day and age of Jason Bourne, with this film and Quantum of Solace only standing out because of Craig and his character's relationship with Dame Judi Dench as M. While the last two films seemed to focus mostly on Bond being an international force for good, even if he is somewhat brutish in his ultimate methods, Skyfall looks to be bringing things home. Even the brief glimpse of the teaser released this week shows a Bond we may not have seen in years, if we've seen him before at all: [youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24mTIE4D9JM[/youtube] Other than the plethora of very British images, the fantastic word association bit lets us just a bit into Bond's mind. When confronted with the word 'Skyfall', Bond does not betray emotion or flip the table; he simply, politely, and firmly ends the session and walks away. We see international locals with a very definite sense of identity (something Quantum of Solace was lacking) and Bond appears to be very calmly and confidently going about his business. I know it's just a teaser, and it never does to get one's hopes up, it seems clear to me that director Sam Mendes (American Beauty, Road to Perdition, Jarhead) and cinematographer Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption, Fargo, Jarhead, True Grit) are on to something. This is the most excited I've been for a Bond film in quite some time. I look forward to seeing it in October.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: Flint Smoke

Flash Fiction: Flint Smoke — Blue Ink Alchemy

For the Terribleminds Paint Color Title Scheme challenge.

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"Whiskey. Best make it a double." He didn't always start his time in the saloon this way. Most days here saw him talking with one of the girls, or hitting up the poker table. But today was different. A lesser man might have ridden for an extra day or two to avoid something like this. Put off the Reaper for one more day. "Gideon Thomas!" He wasn't one of those men. He looked up from the bar. Sunlight caught the kicked-up dust in the saloon in amber streams. The man who'd called his name sauntered in his direction, half-rusted spurs clicking on the oak floorboards. "It ain't noon yet, Pete. We ain't settling up 'til noon." "You can't ride in here like yer cock o' th' walk an' expect me an' my boys t' just wait around fer ya t'..." "You're spittin' on me, Pete. I told you, we're settling up at noon." "Well, if ya give me th' money now, I can f'rget I ever saw ya. Go back t' Bear-Paw an' tell 'im..." "Better stop right there, Pete, all that thinkin's going t' make you keel over." Pete frowned. His face was a particularly ugly patchy combination of ruddy white and repeatedly-sunburnt brownish, and his breath stank. "I'm gonna enjoy puttin' a bullet in ya." "See you at noon, then." Pete huffed and stormed out. The barkeep poured the whiskey. Sunlight played in the shotglass and its contents. "You're awfully calm for a man about to face one of the deadliest gun-hands in seven counties." Gideon drank down the whiskey. "If he's as deadly as they say, I won't have no worries come noon-time. If not, I got no reason to be worried in the first place." "You've got a strange philosophy there, friend." "It's worked so far." Gideon stood, laying a couple bills on top of the shotglass. "Thanks for the drink." He looked up at the clock behind the bar. He had about five minutes. He walked around the saloon a bit, running his fingers over the green felt at the poker table, tipping his hat to the pretty blonde in the little pink dress, listening to the tinny piano. If things went wrong, he didn't want to go out without some good sensations rolling around in his brainpan. Taking a deep breath, he stood at the door and waited. He closed his eyes, said a prayer. The church bells began to chime. On the twelfth toll, he pushed the doors open and stepped outside. Pete was leaning on the hitching post outside, and standing in the middle of the street was the man they called Bear-Paw. He was a large man, bulky and imposing, with long wavy hair the color of soot under his wide-brimmed hat, and a fuzzy beard. Rumor had it he'd gotten his handle for being mistaken for a bear at night more than once. "You're a man of yer word, Gideon Thomas." He had a deep, rumbly voice. His thick thumbs were stuck in his gunbelt as he watched Gideon move into the street. "Most men would rather settle up with me than make this sort of appointment." "Most, but not the half-dozen you've already killed." "Oh, it's more than that. It ain't just stand-up fights in alleys that put men in these paws." "So I've heard. But that's just on the side, ain't it? Ain't you spending most days out lookin' for coaches to rob?" Gideon saw Pete go for his gun out of the corner of his eye. Bear-Paw held up a hand. "Best be careful what you say, friend. Most of my crew has a bead on ya from here." Gideon didn't look. He knew Bear-Paw was telling the truth. "Not sure why you needed your whole crew for this. It's just you tryin' t' steal from me." "You cheated." "Still waitin' on that proof. All I know is a flush beats a pair of deuces any day of the week." Bear-Paw fround, bent at the waist, and spat. Chewing tobacco spattered in the dust with a dark brown stain. "I want my hundred dollars back, you cheatin' son of a bitch. Pay it up now or I take it outta yer hide." "You'll do no such thing, Bart Jones." The big man blinked at Gideon. He hadn't known Gideon was acquainted with his real handle. "Come again?" "You'll do no such thing. I know you're wanted in other counties for theft, destruction of property, and back east you got started killing your wife. Warrant on you is still good." Bear-Paw stared at him. Then, he started to laugh. "You gonna take me in all on your lonesome, little man?" "Nope." Gideon whistled. From behind the Saloon's sign, around corners of buildings, and even under sombreros and ponchos, men emerged with guns drawn. Barrels shone cobalt blue, held to the heads of Pete and the other miscreants in Bear-Paw's crew. Gideon smiled and pointed around the scene. "Now, that? That's probably cheating." Bear-Paw scowled, going for his gun. Gideon's hand moved of its own accord, drawing his Peacemaker and thumbing the hammer. He fired before Bear-Paw's revolver cleared his holster. A ribbon of red flew through the air and Bear-Paw went down, his knee shattered. Gideon holstered his trusted companion as the Marshall approached, his mustache groomed as always, pin-striped vest immaculate, silver star glistening in the sunlight. "That's good work, Mister Thomas. Not many men would walk into one of Bear-Paw's ambushes like that." "Well, thank your men for me, Marshall. Not every day you grab a Bartholomew Jones, especially not in a trap like this." The Marshall smiled, removing a billfold from his vest and counting out five hundred dollars. The green bills crinkled as Gideon took them and tipped his hat. "You need me again, Marshall, you know where to find me." Bear-Paw was growling obscenities as the Marshall cuffed him, and Gideon walked back into the saloon. "Barkeep! I'll take another whiskey, if you please."

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Rewrite Report: The Home Stretch

Rewrite Report: The Home Stretch — Blue Ink Alchemy

I haven't taken an exact word count of Cold Iron, but I know I'm near the end. I'm currently working on the last 'new' bit of material. It smooths over one of the truly clunky transitions in the story and allows more character growth and interaction. From there, a couple scenes get rearranged and the ending will be tightened up. That will be the easy part. I will once again ask for volunteers to do a quick read-through, mostly looking for stilted dialog or gaping plot-holes. After that, I'm going to look into getting some quick reviews from people. Established authors, editors I know, and so on. I don't feel right simply posting the novella on various markets with just my pithy blurb to support it. I also don't feel right doctoring up the cover. The photography work is absolutely phenomenal, and I don't want to fuck that up. I'm familiar with Photoshop and Illustrator but my eye is rather untrained, and I don't trust it to produce something both appealing and balanced to work as a novella cover, even if it's only in electronic form. That means hiring a designer. I'm comfortable with this but I may have to put off the initial deposit for a bit. I'm trying to be a bit more responsible in my spending, and as much as this is a serious investment in my future, bills gots to be paid. With things looming the way they are I'm trying to hold off some feelings of anxiety and nervousness. I remind myself I have to trust in my talent, my work, and my characters. If it were crap, people would tell me. Just because some similar thematic elements exist in it doesn't mean the work is without merit. I don't think it's going to set the world on fire, but we all have to start somewhere. Thoughts of encouragement or offers to volunteer are much appreciated.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: Pan's Labyrinth

Movie Review: Pan's Labyrinth — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm really not sure where to begin with this. If I were still doing IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! I may just lead with a few moments of silence. Powerful films have a way of taking the breath, the very words right out of me. Make no mistake: Pan's Labyrinth is one of those films. The year is 1944, and Spain is under new management by the fascist Francisco Franco. At a forward post established against guerrillas fighting the new regime, Captain Vidal has summoned his wife and step-daughter to stay with him. His wife, Carmen, is close to giving birth to his son, while the girl, Ofelia, would rather keep her nose in her fairy tale books. En route to the post, Ofelia happens across a strange insect that transforms before her eyes and leads her to a secluded labyrinth where a faun tells her she may be a legendary princess. To prove herself worthy of her birthright, she must accomplish a series of tasks, in the midst of this bloody civil war, with the lives of all she knows and holds dear hanging in the balance. Writer-director Guillermo del Toro is no stranger to dark fantasy. He brought us Blade II (one of the good ones) and both Hellboy films. By 'dark', I don't mean the sort of dark fantasy where there's lots of naked women and cursing and gratuitous buckets of blood. No, I mean thematically dark. Truly dark. The sort of dark that has kids curling up tight in their beds with their sheets pulled up to just under their eyes, because they're scared witless by what's in the shadows but don't dare look away. You could even call it 'edgy', as it lives on the very edge between fantasy and horror. Pan's Labyrinth is unafraid to glance, just for a moment here and a heartbeat there, into the deep shadows of the realms of the unknown and the very real darkness in human nature.
Absolutely stunning visuals. You can't tell a story like this without good characters, and in film you need good actors to make them come alive. In the hands of a less adept director, Captain Vidal would come across as a caricature of the fascist movement, a Nazi in all but name, not so much a man as he is a punching bag leering at us to hit him harder. Thankfully, the character is written with complexity and depth, even if he's a rather vile human being, and Sergi López gives a fantastic performance. As for Ofelia, del Toro was so impressed by Ivana Baquero that he aged up her part so the young actress could play it. She, too, is complex and deep, as well as fallible. Here are two human beings who come at life from entirely different angles, even in some cases wanting the same thing for completely disparate reasons, and their conviction is what drives this story forward and holds us mesmerized by it. The visuals and the construction of del Toro's fantasy world don't hurt, either. Culled from all sorts of fairy and folk tales, the world Ofelia alone can see, touch, and enter is brought to breathtaking life, with del Toro mainstay Doug Jones playing the parts of the Faun and the Pale Man. As wondrous as it is, there's also a primal and untamed nature to it, as as attractive as it might be to a young girl, one wonders if it's any less dangerous than the cold, jackbooted reality through which her stepfather reigns as nominal master.
My skin crawls just looking at the guy. The tendency is to write something like "I can't say enough about this" but I really feel, in this case, I can't say any more about it. You should really just watch it, if you haven't already. Despite its fairy tale trappings, it's an exceedingly mature and heart-wrenchingly vital tale, far removed from what most would consider kid-friendly. Don't be put off by the choice del Toro made to shoot it in Spanish; the truths of this film and the lives of its characters transcend things like spoken language. It is one of the most deeply affecting films I've seen in a very long time. I really cannot recommend Pan's Labyrinth highly enough.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Wordbender: On Aang and the Water Tribe

Wordbender: On Aang and the Water Tribe — Blue Ink Alchemy

My wife and I have finally gotten around to watching Avatar: the Last Airbender. I put myself through watching the film adaptation and saw lots of potential for storytelling underneath the surface. I was a bit thrown by the odd juxtaposition of breathtaking martial arts augmented with special effects and some dreadfully bland exposition crammed into stilted dialog. I knew hand-drawn animation could still look impressive, and with more breathing room, I hoped the characters would develop more naturally as the story grew through their actions. Having seen the first 'book' of the series, I can see why it has so many fans. For a show on a children's network, Avatar deals with some pretty heavy themes. It begins with a world that's been at war for 100 years, not a light and rosy prospect on its own. Then, before you know it, the show's writers are bringing up things like genocide, sexism, and parenting bordering on abusive. With so many heavy themes weaving into and out of the ongoing narrative, your central characters need to be natural and dynamic, people to whom the audience can relate and as human as possible. Thankfully, for Book 1 at least, this is the case. Aang, despite being a youngster, is a very solid lead for this show. While precocious and not always focused on the task at hand, his natural abilities and easy-going charm smooth over a lot of his rough patches. When things become serious, he never goes too over the top with his reactions. Indeed, more than once he's shown to possess a rather quiet fury, the mark of a mature warrior-monk with true goodness in his heart and a willingness to fight for his friends and what he believes in. His friends, at least the two other children that discover him, balance his personality well. Kitara is supportive while Sokka is critical; the sister concerns herself with spiritual matters, and the brother is more of a tactile, even scientific sort. Together they introduce Aang (and us) to their world as it is now, and ensure that the young Avatar has companions other than his small lemur and titanic flying bison. While Team Avatar is well-balanced and well-presented, it can be difficult to really feel deep empathy or connections to them. Their stories, while well-told, are not terribly complex. Perhaps this is due to the characters of the Fire Nation, specifically Zuko and Iroh, having much more checkered pasts that are mostly hinted at over the course of the Book. Iroh in particular is something a jovial mystery, and when we see some of the decisions Zuko makes as the series continues, he reveals more and more layers that indicate he's far more than a typical villain with a grudge. The use of real martial arts in the animations for bending not only make the actions stand out but also underscore the essence of each element. For water, Tai Chi was used as a pattern. The graceful, largely peaceful motions lend themselves naturally to the flow and ebb of the water Kitara, Aang, and others manipulate, and are a stark contrast to the aggressive motions of Northern Shaolin used by firebenders. More to come, as Book 1 is now closed and Book 2 awaits...

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: Benjamin Franklin in the Bermuda Triangle

Flash Fiction: Benjamin Franklin in the Bermuda Triangle — Blue Ink Alchemy

For the Terribleminds request for pulp insanity, we return to the adventures of a revolutionary wizard.

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The lingering storm clouds made way for the moon, and that was when it began. The crew of the fluyt Eenhoorn lit lamps on-deck to throw back the darkness. The ocean nearby rippled and swooned, small waves crashing over one another. To Captain Kroeger, the phenomenon was entirely unnatural. He gave the wheel to his first mate, passed a deckhand being sick over the rail, and went into the cabin where their passenger sat, reading. "Mister Franklin, we need you on deck." The American looked up over the rims of his spectacles. "I take it the storm has ended?" "Yes. But something else has begun." Franklin put his book aside and rose. He picked up a collapsing umbrella from his belongings and ventured out with the captain. He took one look at the swirling waters nearby and frowned. "Captain, you may want to have your men man their battle stations." "Sir?" "We passed Bermuda this morning, correct? And are taking a southern course?" "Yes, but..." "Then we are in dangerous waters." "We spotted no other ships nearby! Neither the English nor the Spanish are..." The roar of the sea in upheaval drowned out the captain. From the swirling pool burst the prow of a ship. Its hull rose into the moonlight like a breaching whale, its masts hung with seaweed instead of sails and tackle. Kroeger's breath caught in his throat when he beheld the opposing crew. They shambled rather than walked, in various states of decay, many an eye missing from its socket and those still intact smoldering with murderous intent. "Battle stations! Run out the guns! Prepare to repel boarders!" Benjamin Franklin furrowed his brow as he studied the enemy ship. Any colors it would have flown had long been consumed by the wildlife beneath them. Sliding the long umbrella into his belt, he climbed the rigging towards the crow's nest. The Eenhoorn reeled under the superior firepower of the enemy vessel, despite said vessel's cannon having been underwater moments before. Franklin nearly lost his grip more than once, but he refused to let go completely, gritting his teeth against the spray of the sea and the smell of battle. He alighted into the crow's nest and took stock of the situation. The enemy ship was closing in on the Eenhoorn. The half-eaten ambulatory corpses and oddly animated skeletons moved towards the railing closest to the fluyt, wielding grappling lines. Franklin knew it was now or never. He reached down the front of his shirt for the key that hung around his neck. When he freed it from the silver chain, it made his fingers tingle. He slid it around the top of the umbrella, opened the device, and held it above his head. The storm clouds high above began to shudder and growl. Lights went off like cannon fire within the dark surfaces, and as Franklin pitched the umbrella towards the enemy ship, there was a momentary feeling that his hair was standing on end, his skin about to catch fire. A bolt of lightning snapped into existence, connecting the cloud to the umbrella as it sailed over the ghost ship. The steel spines of the device conveyed smaller bolts onto the ghost ship's deck, catching a few of the undead crew on fire. A cheer went up from the Dutchmen as Franklin climbed back down. "That was brilliant, Mister Franklin!" "Thank you, Captain, but it only slowed them down. I need to find a more permanent solution, and I only brought the one umbrella with me. Hold them off as best you can. Excuse me." He grabbed his jar of salt from his belongings and made his way below decks, to the lowest point in the ship. He set a box down and carefully laid out the circle he'd need. Praying the Eenhoorn did not list too much, he touched the circle with both hands. "Come up from your Locker," he said. "Come up from your Locker, Come up from your Locker, Davy Jones, Davy Jones." The shadows in the bilge seem to grow longer, and in the circle, two saucer-like eyes appeared, blinking at Franklin. "Ye be a bold soul to summon me, human." Blue smoke wafted from the spirit's nostrils. "Release me, and I'll not drag your ship down to me Locker." "I will release you when you take back the ship attacking us." "Ye have no business at sea, Benjamin Franklin." "Shall we parley, then?" There was an annoyed puff of blue smoke. "Go on." "My destination is Barbados. I have business there with a voudoun priestess." "I know of whom ye speak. She be a long way from home." "I want to offer her help. Perhaps bring her back to our colonies." "Two of ye at sea, then? I should indeed drag ye down now." "We will do no harm and work no further magic while at sea. You have my word." Jones reached up with a hand to stroke one of his horns. His tail swished in the dark. "And what benefit be Davy Jones getting out of this bargain? I drown ye now, I'd have me no worries." "I wouldn't go down without a fight. And if we fight, we draw the attention of ocean powers greater than you." Jones grinned, his eyes alight. Three rows of teeth glistened in the semi-darkness. "Ye'd lose, little wizard." "Maybe. But not before hurting you just in time for your king to arrive." The smile vanished. "Fine, then. I give ye safe passage to Barbados and back. But this not be something Davy Jones will forget, Benjamin Franklin." "Nor shall I." Fingers broke the circle and the spirit was gone. He climbed through the decks to find the crew celebrating. "The sea swallowed them up again!" Captain Kroeger slapped Benjamin on the back. "How did you do it?" "The fine art of parley, captain. Now, let us get to Barbados with all possible speed. The less time we spend in these waters, the better."

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Rewrite Report: Insert Title Here

Rewrite Report: Insert Title Here — Blue Ink Alchemy

I once again find myself needing to admit: "Yeah, I got nothin'." As I've said before, not every brick that drops out of the sphincter of my mind is going to be a golden one. I spent most of my pre-commute hour staring at a blank screen trying to make words of meaning appear. They never did. It was a lackluster start to the final day of a rather disappointing week. Oh, I got some things done, to be sure. Seeing The Avengers over the weekend kicked ass, but I did make more progress on Cold Iron. But I got some rejection letters back, I totally flubbed more than one debate, and the dayjob has just been kicking my ass in general. Thankfully, it's just about over. I'm going to put this one in the books, grab relaxation when I can over the weekend, and try to start fresh. As long as I learn something from the past, I've no need to dwell on it.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Book Review: Blackbirds

Book Review: Blackbirds — Blue Ink Alchemy

"Everyone dies alone. That's what it is. It's a door. It's one person wide. When you go through it, you do it alone. But it doesn't mean you've got to be alone before you go through the door. And believe me, you aren't alone on the other side." ― Jim Butcher, Dead Beat A psychopomp is, put simply, a guide and guardian of the dead. They're pretty prevelant in classic tales and myths. Anubis, the Valkyries, Charon, Muut, the list goes on. For the most part, these extra-dimensional beings take care of the souls of the newly departed and help them transition in the world beyond this one. To my knowledge, none of them go through the pockets of the deceased for cigarettes and credit cards. But it's not like Miriam Black asked to be given her ability to know how you're going to die.
Cover art by Joey Hi-Fi The main character of Chuck Wendig's Blackbirds is a surly, sarcastic, capable, and manipulative woman. She scavenges from the people she knows are going to die within hours or even minutes of meeting them. All it takes is a touch, and pow - she sees every detail, down to the exact date and time, who if anyone's around and what the last moment is like before the doors of life slam shut. She's haunted by all she's seen, and more than that. She's been on the run for a very long time, and even though she didn't know it, the thing she's been running from is about to catch up with her. You could have the most interesting setting in the known universe, but without good characters, the story goes nowhere. It falls flat. It doesn't move. Miriam moves. She curses like a trucker, brushes off just about anything resembling real human contact, wanders aimlessly from place to place, would just as soon put a knife in your balls as buy you a drink - and yet she's our heroine. I wouldn't go so far as to call her entirely likable, but she's such indelible and admirable you don't necessarily have to like her for the novel to work as well as it does. This is one of Chuck's biggest strengths. His characters come across as people, even if they're in direct opposition to the characters we come to like. The setting for the tale is an urban fantasy steeped in noir and the gritty semi-absurdity of Pulp Fiction or True Romance. But it could be on a space station or deep underground or in a suburban house and it would still ring true. It's Wendig's characters that make him such a seminal contemporary author of fiction. The writing in Blackbirds is tight and focused. It's laced with profanity and there's plenty of sex and violence to be had, and it'd be very easy to let such spectacle overwhelm the underlying foundations. But this novel's smarter than that. It doesn't even let the bleakness and finality of Miriam's visions overwhelm her humanity or humor. It balances extremely well between the narrative throughline of Miriam in the now, the steps she took to be where she is, and the people both with and against her, who could easily have been ciphers or mere empty vessels, punching bags for our heroine to bash around. But as I said, it's smarter than that, and the universe of urban fiction is at least three magnitudes brighter for its presence. Blackbirds is an engrossing read, at times incredibly funny and at others something you won't be able to get out of your head long after you put it down. It is dirty and morbid and vulgar and wonderful.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Book Review: Blackbirds

Book Review: Blackbirds — Blue Ink Alchemy

"Everyone dies alone. That's what it is. It's a door. It's one person wide. When you go through it, you do it alone. But it doesn't mean you've got to be alone before you go through the door. And believe me, you aren't alone on the other side." ― Jim Butcher, Dead Beat A psychopomp is, put simply, a guide and guardian of the dead. They're pretty prevelant in classic tales and myths. Anubis, the Valkyries, Charon, Muut, the list goes on. For the most part, these extra-dimensional beings take care of the souls of the newly departed and help them transition in the world beyond this one. To my knowledge, none of them go through the pockets of the deceased for cigarettes and credit cards. But it's not like Miriam Black asked to be given her ability to know how you're going to die.
Cover art by Joey Hi-Fi The main character of Chuck Wendig's Blackbirds is a surly, sarcastic, capable, and manipulative woman. She scavenges from the people she knows are going to die within hours or even minutes of meeting them. All it takes is a touch, and pow - she sees every detail, down to the exact date and time, who if anyone's around and what the last moment is like before the doors of life slam shut. She's haunted by all she's seen, and more than that. She's been on the run for a very long time, and even though she didn't know it, the thing she's been running from is about to catch up with her. You could have the most interesting setting in the known universe, but without good characters, the story goes nowhere. It falls flat. It doesn't move. Miriam moves. She curses like a trucker, brushes off just about anything resembling real human contact, wanders aimlessly from place to place, would just as soon put a knife in your balls as buy you a drink - and yet she's our heroine. I wouldn't go so far as to call her entirely likable, but she's such indelible and admirable you don't necessarily have to like her for the novel to work as well as it does. This is one of Chuck's biggest strengths. His characters come across as people, even if they're in direct opposition to the characters we come to like. The setting for the tale is an urban fantasy steeped in noir and the gritty semi-absurdity of Pulp Fiction or True Romance. But it could be on a space station or deep underground or in a suburban house and it would still ring true. It's Wendig's characters that make him such a seminal contemporary author of fiction. The writing in Blackbirds is tight and focused. It's laced with profanity and there's plenty of sex and violence to be had, and it'd be very easy to let such spectacle overwhelm the underlying foundations. But this novel's smarter than that. It doesn't even let the bleakness and finality of Miriam's visions overwhelm her humanity or humor. It balances extremely well between the narrative throughline of Miriam in the now, the steps she took to be where she is, and the people both with and against her, who could easily have been ciphers or mere empty vessels, punching bags for our heroine to bash around. But as I said, it's smarter than that, and the universe of urban fiction is at least three magnitudes brighter for its presence. Blackbirds is an engrossing read, at times incredibly funny and at others something you won't be able to get out of your head long after you put it down. It is dirty and morbid and vulgar and wonderful.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Game Review: Bastion

Game Review: Bastion — Blue Ink Alchemy

Saying goes that a proper story starts at the beginning. This one ain't any different. Not all video games roll out to store shelves full of glitz and glamor, backed by big studios with lots of cash. Some are quiet affairs. Some are carefully assembled by a small, tight-knit group of fine people with a singular vision and talent coming out their ears. Don't let the name fool you. Supergiant Games is anything but, 'cept in the dreams department. It's those dreams, after all, that gave us Bastion. Bastion's set in Caelondia. It was a nice enough city, once. Plenty of innovation, opportunity for those after it, haves and have-nots, just like any city. It was nice enough, before the Calamity hit. Nobody really saw it coming. Sure there were rumors of new hostilities between Caelondia and the people out past its walls, the Ura, but nobody expected this. Nobody expected the world to just stop working the way it should. Nobody expected the land to all but disappear, bits of it floating in great seas of empty air. Nobody expected any of it, least of all the Kid. Don't know if he's got a proper name, or if we're supposed to saddle him with one. He's the first warm body we meet in Bastion, though, and just about every move he makes is narrated. Good thing, too. Things are a bit violent and chaotic in the wake of the Calamity. All sorts of beasts, creatures, and foes come at the Kid from all sides. We watch the whole thing from above as he goes to work on all comers with a variety of tools, long arms, and some really interesting surprises. He's capable, this Kid, but he ain't the only survivor of the Calamity.
He's got a mean swing. I mentioned his actions are narrated, right? Turns out the narrator's a character, too. Goes by the name of Rucks, kind of a seasoned older fella with plenty of stories of his own. Seems that way, at least, but his focus is on the Kid. Even as the Kid rolls, blocks, fights, and explores, Rucks is filling us in on what Caelondia was like before the Calamity, what the Kid's coming up against, and how the Bastion can fix things up. Right, almost forgot. The game takes its name from your home base, a sort of last-resort refuge for folks from Caelondia who could make it out of the Calamity. Not that many did. When the Kid does find survivors, their stories get told, too. Rucks ain't shy in that regard. Takes a little doing to get all the details, but it's definitely worth it. As the Kid's doing his thing, he's earning back parts of the world, which he brings to the Bastion and changes into upgrades for his weapons, improvements to the Bastion itself, even fresh bottles of spirits from Rucks' private stock. The best thing about all of this is how seamless it is. Other places might see you moving from story to gameplay to upgrades and back again with audible clacks and clunks. Not Bastion. If it's got seams, they're pretty stylish ones.
Calamity really tore things up. Down to the Kid to make it right. Normally this'd be where someone like me'd do a summation of the experience, lay out likes and dislikes, maybe even tack on some arbitrary number. But I ain't gonna do that to ya. Not this time. This is different, and deserves different treatment. It's a fine tale as well as a fun and challenging distraction, well worth your time and effort to seek out. Art's gonna pull you in. Music's gonna stick with you. Best of all is that it's available to ya just about any way you please. Consoles, digital distribution, hell, you could buy it through Chrome and play it literally anywhere. So what're you waiting for? Find your way to the Bastion. Story like this ain't gonna tell itself. You gotta make yourself a part of it.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: The Avengers

Movie Review: The Avengers — Blue Ink Alchemy

It all comes down to this. Four years and five movies ago, if you'd told me that Marvel Studios would craft a connected universe between film franchises building to a coherent capstone piece, I would have laughed at the notion. But here we are. The Avengers has arrived, and with it a lot of questions are answered. Is Marvel crazy enough to pull this off? Were they right to trust Joss Whedon and his litany of failed TV shoes? Can the disparate worlds of Iron Man's slick super-science, Thor's magical Norse-trapping high adventure, and Captain America's slightly campy but ultimately endearing throwback action merge without a seam or hitch? And will an untested actor filling the oversized purple pants of the Hulk topple the whole thing? In case you're wondering: yes, yes, yes, and hell no. The story for this epic is relatively straightforward. The shady international organization SHIELD is in possession of a magical MacGuffin called the Tesseract, last seen used by super-science villains Hydra during World War 2. Loki, Asgardian demi-god of mischief, appears in the SHIELD lab and steals it so he can summon an intergalactic army and conquer the Earth. To stop him, SHIELD head honcho Nick Fury puts together a team of super-powered individuals consisting of Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and the Hulk. They alone have the power to save the planet... provided they don't beat the crap out of one another first. In comics, this sort of thing happens all the time. But in film? It's a lot more difficult to pull off. Marvel undertook the biggest gamble since the Lord of the Rings or perhaps Harry Potter, taking works that were previously considered somewhat niche and pushing them into the mainstream culture with a complete lack of shame or irony. As more films were released, less of the pretense of 'our world' was wrapped around them. Iron Man you could almost buy as a plausible story, Thor not so much. And with The Avengers, not only do these disparate stories meet, but they're also expected to play off of and work well with one another? This shouldn't work.
Tony: "Ladies, ladies. You're both pretty." And yet, it does. Not only does it work, it works extremely well. Writer-director Joss Whedon is one of the best alive when it comes to quirky settings and balanced character dynamics. His writing, while often panned for being too self-referential or pop-culture laden, fleshes out these characters for newcomers to the audience while playing off of previously established beats, as well as setting up alliances and conflicts for this film's running time. No character, be they hero or villain, is made to look dumb or shorted on time to shine. Except for the alien invaders, that is, but as CGI threats for our heroes to beat up, they do pretty well. Speaking of heroes, this movie absolutely would not work if the ensemble had no chemistry. Put any fears of that to bed. Not only is everybody in this production at the top of their game, it's clear that these folks are quite comfortable with one another, playing up the merits of their characters as well as their flaws with adeptness that allows their co-stars to play off of them with ease. The dialog and actions feel natural, tension is high, and humor is explosive. While Robert Downey Jr. is the old hand at this, and occasionally the scenes feel like "Tony Stark and some other losers, the movie", Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, and Chris Hemsworth continue to show what inspired choices they are for Cap, Black Widow, and Thor, respectively. I also don't think Thor's lines could be said by another character, which is another criticism often leveled against Whedon. Last but never least, Tom Hiddleston is allowed to stretch his wings as Loki even more here than he was in Thor. Free of a great deal of his familial angst, he comes across as a great mix of mischief-maker, deceiver and Flash Gordon villain, with a smirking confidence and swagger that are, in and of themselves, tough to beat.
List of offenses: Mass murder, mass destruction, mind control, killer fashion sense, having too much swag. The Avengers does feature some new faces which could have diluted the project but instead underscore the strengths of the work. Jeremy Renner, previously established as Hawkeye in a one-scene cameo during Thor, feels very much like both a sniper and a former renegade. Cobie Smulders, previously seen on How I Met Your Mother, comes to us as SHIELD agent Maria Hill, working very well with SHIELD vets Samuel L. Jackson and Clark Gregg (Nick Fury and Agent Coulson, respectively) not only in humans observing the super-humans but also as forces of their own. And then we have Mark Ruffalo. Bruce Banner in the past has been tortured, haunted, hunted, and conflicted, but Ruffalo manages to be all of those things and brilliant, quick-witted, funny, and confident. I certainly hope we'll be seeing more of him in this role. There are a few hiccups in the plot regarding the nature of the Hulk, and the discussions between Loki and the aliens can seem a bit obtuse at times, but any quibbles I can think of against the film are minor. The construction is tight, and while the film clocks in at around two and a half hours, it never drags and no scene feels unnecessary. It's a modern epic, a testament to the power of geek culture, and while on paper it seems like it should never work, The Avengers not only delivers on the promise of the previous Marvel Studios films, it leaves the audience hungry for more. Stuff I Liked: The SHIELD helicarrier. The governing council of SHIELD which was a nice callback to some of those comics. The scene in Germany before the heroes arrive. The callbacks to the previous films, woven elegantly into this new plot. Stuff I Didn't Like: There's a moment in the film that I definitely didn't like, but I acknowledge its presence for various reasons. I will not speak more of it, as this is a spoiler-free review. Stuff I Love: The duo of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. The little touches that remind us just how much Steve Rogers is a man out of time. Thor and Loki maintaining their Asgardian airs at all times. The very well balanced final battle, from the 'assembly' of the Avengers to its climax. Bottom Line: The Avengers is one of the best super-hero films ever made, with a great cast, top-notch production values, a very smart screenplay, and excellent direction. This is well worth your time and money to go see in cinemas.

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Blue Ink Alchemy