Writer Report: Swamped

Writer Report: Swamped — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'd like to say I've made a lot more progress on Cold Streets than I have. The fact of the matter is, this week has been pretty disastrous in terms of time management in general and working around the dayjob in particular. Thankfully, there's a long weekend ahead and I plan on taking advantage of the time to get more work done on Cold Streets. The good news there is that I do have an outline for it, and sketches in my head of the new characters, along with expansions on the established ones. I need to keep up the quick pace of the story and maintain the noir feel of things while increasing the scope and raising the stakes. I'm pretty sure I have ways to do that, and I am looking forward to writing more of it. Time, unfortunately, is always in motion, and it can be difficult to carve out chunks of it for yourself when the target keeps moving. I'll get it, though. This week was just bad. Hopefully it will be better soon.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Tweaking the Masquerade

Tweaking the Masquerade — Blue Ink Alchemy

I've had vampires on my mind lately. Between writing the draft of Cold Streets, seeing the season finale of True Blood (that's another post entirely...) and chatting via Twitter with Justin Achilli, I've been wondering how Vampire: the Masquerade might be improved. I don't see Vampire: the Requiem as an improvement, merely a sequel or perhaps another permutation of the game. It's not strictly better, in my opinion, nor is it discernibly 'worse', it's just different. Masquerade has been my jam for many a year, and I still remember games played within that world fondly. I do think some things could be done to make the setting more interesting, however, and allow for more character exploration and nuance without sacrificing atmosphere.

Get Rid of the Sabbat

As much as I appreciate a good villain, the Sabbat really aren't good villains. Whenever the idea of blatant rule of humans by vampires comes up, it's always a bad one. In a game where the notion is to explore mature subject matter such as temptation, the degradation of humanity in the face of power, and what it means to be a monster wearing human skin, an establishment of monolithic evil undercuts the purpose. You can still have dramatic tension and meaningful moments of powerful self-discovery, along with power-mongering, scheming, seduction, and betrayal, without needing to conjure a boogeyman that likes skinning babies for fun. The Sabbat are completely unnecessary, superfluous to the crux of the gameplay, and actually kind of silly when you think about it. That said, while the antitribu can easily bite the dust I still appreciate the two major clans involved with the Sabbat. So what becomes of them?

Refine the Tzimisce

The fact that the vampires of the Tzimisce bloodline exhibit a mentality and behavioral code far different from any other creature is a lot more interesting to me than their role in the aforementioned Sabbat. When I think Tzimisce, I think classic figures such as Dracula or Elizabeth Bathory. They're the kind of creature to hide in plain sight, to prey upon those who least suspect them, and cloak their predatory nature with designer clothing or Stepford smiles. In short, I think the Tzimisce should live in the suburbs. Think about it. In classic tales the vampire always has a secluded, sprawling manor house. You really don't know there's something weird going on until you step inside. A cunning Tzimisce, in my mind, would wear a human skin the way you or I wear slacks to a day job - as soon as you get home, you change into something more comfortable. Sure, it's fun to dress in fetish clothing and march around to Rammstein, but it's not very subtle or nuanced. And since subtle and nuanced is what I prefer to go for, that old viewpoint of the Tzimisce needs to go the way of the Sabbat. Instead of shaking a mailed fist at the Camarilla for foiling their plans once again, I much prefer the image of a Tzimisce living a quiet, genteel life of grabbing meals and experimentation subjects out of golf clubhouses, high-end cocktail parties, and corporate gatherings, available to impart some ancient secrets on the curious and the daring... for a price. Some may still maintain chambers of horrors under their gated communities, and others may simply prefer to read a good book by the fire after an evening meal. Don't limit the clan to a single stereotype; establish some parameters and let the player fill in the blanks as they see fit. They would tend to stay out of the cities because of the Tremere, which I'll get to in a moment.

Isolate the Lasombra

Without the Sabbat, what becomes of the Lasombra? One of my absolute favorite clans, their powers over shadows and penchant for manipulation behind the scenes makes them excellent schemers and hidden threats. As much as a member of the Lasombra might crave power, it often takes the form of having influence over the supposedly powerful, rather than being in charge themselves. An ideal Lasombra, in my mind, is not the kind to bark orders at neonates like a drill sergeant. They're more (you guessed it) subtle than that. They've always been good rivals for the more traditional political leaders of the Camarilla, the Ventrue and the Toreador. My inclination is to underscore that by, in essence, putting a single Lasombra at the opposite end of a chessboard from a given city's Prince. The Lasombra test those in power, evaluating their worthiness through challenges, manipulations and even threats. Not direct ones, of course, but threats manufactured to see what the Prince and their city are made of. If the Prince proves themselves worthy, reward them by manipulating others in the city to their benefit (and the Lasombra's); if they don't, engineer their replacement. This change could make the Lasombra out to be some kind of dastardly arch-villain, and some of them may lean that way, but again, the notion is to establish unique parameters and let people fill in the blanks themselves. Sure, some may go for the Moriarty or Hannibal Lecter angle, playing up the superficially antagonistic role, but others may approach the city as an experiment, a giant living Petri dish in which the behaviors, reactions, and merits of those in control are to be tested. Still others may see themselves as performing a vital service for the Prince, ensuring they remain in power. Hell, why not conspire with the Prince directly if the Lasombra in the city considers them worthy? There are possibilities here, more than might be afforded by the Sabbat.

Galvanize the Tremere

Justin posed this question: why aren't the Tremere the good guys? If order is good for society and vampires, and chaos is bad, why is an ordered clan like the Tremere seen as a bad thing? "When you hear about the Tremere 'searching for an artifact,' you immediately conclude, 'someone has to stop them!'" The Tremere are usually seen as gaming for political positioning, trying to get one up on the Ventrue or the Prince or somebody else who's in power, and while this is traditionally vampiric behavior, with its structure and clear hierarchy, I think the Tremere are more suited for another role entirely. Basically, I've always though the Tremere would make great cops. There's a lot of ways this could go. The Tremere in one city could operate like detectives from L.A. Confidential or Law & Order, while in another they are essentially the Gestapo. But the overarching mentality of the clan would be to protect the Kindred of the city, safeguard the innocent, and enforce the Traditions. They have powerful tools to investigate crime, pursue offenders, and bring them to justice. Instead of using these powers to get an edge on other Kindred, they could be used for a greater good, which in and of itself becomes an edge. And the dynamic within the city remains fluid. Some may respect the Tremere and what they do, while others harbor a deep hatred for authority figures and especially cops. And there are a slew of stories in which cops go bad; a corrupt Tremere would be an anomaly, but would also be a dangerous quantity. If a Lasombra gets some dirty on a Tremere, or the Giovanni name the right price, how will the Tremere's clan mates find out and deal with them? And what about a member of the Tremere going undercover to investigate whispers of conspiracy among the other clans? Some things to think about when it comes to vampire storytelling.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The Playing's The Thing

The Playing's The Thing — Blue Ink Alchemy

Would Bastion mean as much if we just watched it? I'd like to think that most of the audience of this article is familiar with the television program Whose Line Is It Anyway? be it in its original BBC format or the American version. What makes the show so memorable, funny, and watchable are not necessarily the host, the games themselves, or even the "contestant" comedians. It's the people we don't see much of. In this case, that isn't the production crew or the camera operators. It's the audience. The audience, through participation and excitement and laughter, make the show much, much more than the sum of its apparent parts. It has all the trappings of your standard television program, but once it begins, the differences become glaringly apparent. If you were to show a theorhetical time-traveler from the 30s a game like Uncharted, Assassin's Creed, or Mass Effect, they may mistake them at first for films. Then, they're handed a controller, and the protagonist they just saw cracking wise, stabbing Templars, or shooting (or snogging) aliens is suddenly obeying their commands. We don't just watch these stories unfold; we become a part of them. The difference is in the controller we hold, the keys we press, the gestures we make. Flailing at a movie screen or television set used to have no influence on a story's outcome. Now, however, the player is invited to join in the storytelling experience. I am, of course, speaking of games that go into the design process with this level of interactivity in mind. Not every game is going to set out to create an immersive environment for storytelling. To be honest, not all gamers want that, either. Some just want to blow things up, like some TV viewers just wanting to watch rich people slap the spray-on tans off of one another. There's also the fact that things like Heavy Rain exist, which many people consider a film you occasionally interact with through your controller. As in all things, there are extremes on both sides. The fact remains that video games present creative minds with new ways to tell stories, just as films and radio and books have done for years. Even when video games were somewhat nascent and confined mostly to standing cabinets in arcades, among the flashing lights and rudimentary sounds were games like Missile Command, trying to do more than simply bilk kids for quarters. Much like the pioneers of literature, visual art, and motion pictures, early gamesmiths realized the potential of the medium and started pushing boundaries. Naturally, there have always been those who have pushed back, and video games have no shortage of those voices. Apart from the general alarmists decrying violence and sex in video games, there are other alarmists who would have you believe that the medium would be ruined if the audience for a given game has too much influence over it. Once a game is on shelves or available for download, they say, it's a work of art like a Monet or a Kubrick, and should be treated with the same respect. Opponents of the Retake Mass Effect movement in particular are fond of this argument. They are on recoard as saying the movement is not only a cabal of craven crybabies craving a creamy cake conclusion to their beloved franchise, but also that its success means nothing short of the degradation of the medium as a whole. Whenever I hear this argument against changing a game's story after publication, I think of the film Kingdom of Heaven. The film that was released to cinemas had a great deal of issues in its plot and pacing. Director Ridley Scott would later release a Director's Cut of the film, smoothing out many of the rough patches and turning a mediocre entry in the realm of historical drama to a highly enjoyable and quite adept film on the nature of faith and religion set against the backdrop of the Crusades. There were still historical inaccuracies but they didn't get in the way of the story. As satisfying as it is to see a work of this magnitude change for the better after its release, imagine how much more potent that satisfaction would be if there was a more direct emotional investment, say if we were assuming the role of main character Balian instead of just watching Orlando Bloom be that guy. Part of the reason video games matter so much to their audiences is because the audience are active participants. Deus Ex: Human Revolution or Bastion would be excellent stories on their own, but the investment made by the player makes their plot points even more important, their twists even more shocking. The compulsion exists for the players to push onward, to find out what happens next, to see how the threads of character and setting weave together to underline the themes of the work. And if at the end, those threads begin to unravel, the player can become confused, or disappointed, or even angry. Unless this was intentional on the part of the designers to provide some sort of commentary on player expectations or some other greater meaning, the designers may be called upon to address the issues, to in essence fix something the players feel is broken. This is where video games truly differentiate themselves from other media. Games have been patching for decades, as developers and players discover bugs that escaped the QA process. The advent of DLC has upped the stakes, allowing companies to monetize new material and also provide updates that there may not have been time to fully complete before launch. While monetized DLC is a subject for another discussion, in this instance the potential is for new content to be added not just to supplement the storyline, but to bring it to a more satisfactory conclusion if necessary. I will agree with some of the alarmists that if developers always caved to player demand, games would suffer for it. However, savvy developers will be able to look at their work after the fact, see the flaws being pointed out by players, and if the game overall would be improved by changing something, it will be changed. It works for game mechanics, it works for NPC behavior, it works for weapon balancing, and it can definitely work for storytelling. Art is constantly changing. I'm sure there were those scoffed at the notion of a pointilist or a cubist painting because the artists did not subscribe to traditional ways of putting oil on canvas. When motion pictures started talking, supporters of vaudville and those seeking tight censorship over films were dealt a nasty blow over their protests. Video games, in this day and age, are also facing a time of change, as players and developers move closer together thanks to the Internet and the dissolving of barriers between the producers of this art and its audience. With players being active participants in the execution of the art, excluding them from the process and holding up the game divorced from player input as sacrosanct cripples any progress of the art form. The playing's the thing that makes video games so singular and wonderful.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The Playing's The Thing

The Playing's The Thing — Blue Ink Alchemy

Would Bastion mean as much if we just watched it? I'd like to think that most of the audience of this article is familiar with the television program Whose Line Is It Anyway? be it in its original BBC format or the American version. What makes the show so memorable, funny, and watchable are not necessarily the host, the games themselves, or even the "contestant" comedians. It's the people we don't see much of. In this case, that isn't the production crew or the camera operators. It's the audience. The audience, through participation and excitement and laughter, make the show much, much more than the sum of its apparent parts. It has all the trappings of your standard television program, but once it begins, the differences become glaringly apparent. If you were to show a theorhetical time-traveler from the 30s a game like Uncharted, Assassin's Creed, or Mass Effect, they may mistake them at first for films. Then, they're handed a controller, and the protagonist they just saw cracking wise, stabbing Templars, or shooting (or snogging) aliens is suddenly obeying their commands. We don't just watch these stories unfold; we become a part of them. The difference is in the controller we hold, the keys we press, the gestures we make. Flailing at a movie screen or television set used to have no influence on a story's outcome. Now, however, the player is invited to join in the storytelling experience. I am, of course, speaking of games that go into the design process with this level of interactivity in mind. Not every game is going to set out to create an immersive environment for storytelling. To be honest, not all gamers want that, either. Some just want to blow things up, like some TV viewers just wanting to watch rich people slap the spray-on tans off of one another. There's also the fact that things like Heavy Rain exist, which many people consider a film you occasionally interact with through your controller. As in all things, there are extremes on both sides. The fact remains that video games present creative minds with new ways to tell stories, just as films and radio and books have done for years. Even when video games were somewhat nascent and confined mostly to standing cabinets in arcades, among the flashing lights and rudimentary sounds were games like Missile Command, trying to do more than simply bilk kids for quarters. Much like the pioneers of literature, visual art, and motion pictures, early gamesmiths realized the potential of the medium and started pushing boundaries. Naturally, there have always been those who have pushed back, and video games have no shortage of those voices. Apart from the general alarmists decrying violence and sex in video games, there are other alarmists who would have you believe that the medium would be ruined if the audience for a given game has too much influence over it. Once a game is on shelves or available for download, they say, it's a work of art like a Monet or a Kubrick, and should be treated with the same respect. Opponents of the Retake Mass Effect movement in particular are fond of this argument. They are on recoard as saying the movement is not only a cabal of craven crybabies craving a creamy cake conclusion to their beloved franchise, but also that its success means nothing short of the degradation of the medium as a whole. Whenever I hear this argument against changing a game's story after publication, I think of the film Kingdom of Heaven. The film that was released to cinemas had a great deal of issues in its plot and pacing. Director Ridley Scott would later release a Director's Cut of the film, smoothing out many of the rough patches and turning a mediocre entry in the realm of historical drama to a highly enjoyable and quite adept film on the nature of faith and religion set against the backdrop of the Crusades. There were still historical inaccuracies but they didn't get in the way of the story. As satisfying as it is to see a work of this magnitude change for the better after its release, imagine how much more potent that satisfaction would be if there was a more direct emotional investment, say if we were assuming the role of main character Balian instead of just watching Orlando Bloom be that guy. Part of the reason video games matter so much to their audiences is because the audience are active participants. Deus Ex: Human Revolution or Bastion would be excellent stories on their own, but the investment made by the player makes their plot points even more important, their twists even more shocking. The compulsion exists for the players to push onward, to find out what happens next, to see how the threads of character and setting weave together to underline the themes of the work. And if at the end, those threads begin to unravel, the player can become confused, or disappointed, or even angry. Unless this was intentional on the part of the designers to provide some sort of commentary on player expectations or some other greater meaning, the designers may be called upon to address the issues, to in essence fix something the players feel is broken. This is where video games truly differentiate themselves from other media. Games have been patching for decades, as developers and players discover bugs that escaped the QA process. The advent of DLC has upped the stakes, allowing companies to monetize new material and also provide updates that there may not have been time to fully complete before launch. While monetized DLC is a subject for another discussion, in this instance the potential is for new content to be added not just to supplement the storyline, but to bring it to a more satisfactory conclusion if necessary. I will agree with some of the alarmists that if developers always caved to player demand, games would suffer for it. However, savvy developers will be able to look at their work after the fact, see the flaws being pointed out by players, and if the game overall would be improved by changing something, it will be changed. It works for game mechanics, it works for NPC behavior, it works for weapon balancing, and it can definitely work for storytelling. Art is constantly changing. I'm sure there were those scoffed at the notion of a pointilist or a cubist painting because the artists did not subscribe to traditional ways of putting oil on canvas. When motion pictures started talking, supporters of vaudville and those seeking tight censorship over films were dealt a nasty blow over their protests. Video games, in this day and age, are also facing a time of change, as players and developers move closer together thanks to the Internet and the dissolving of barriers between the producers of this art and its audience. With players being active participants in the execution of the art, excluding them from the process and holding up the game divorced from player input as sacrosanct cripples any progress of the art form. The playing's the thing that makes video games so singular and wonderful.

---

Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: The Hallway

Flash Fiction: The Hallway — Blue Ink Alchemy

Prompted by Terribleminds' "Another Random Word Challenge".

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His opportunity came when the office door opened. She was in a hurry, so he quickly matched her stride. Fortunately, he was twenty years her junior. "Senator, one minute please." "I'm on my way to the floor, Pete, you better make it quick." "Lockheed has been on the phone trying to get to you. I've fed them every excuse I can think of. Their lobbyists are pissed." "They can take a number. I'm not changing my mind." "I didn't think you would, Senator, I just wanted to let you know." "Is that all?" "No. A lot of Blackwater employees have been emailing in. And more NRA members. They're... getting nasty." "Send the usual response. Remind these gun-crazy wanna-be 'Rambo' junkies I didn't just put on a cape one day and jump in to save the hippies from their guns." "Already done, but I wanted to recommend an increase in your security detail, at least until the vote for the resolution is completed." She turned to look at him as they walked. She was a head shorter than him, her hair a tight cluster of silver and golden curls, keeping a brisk pace as they headed towards the floor. "Peter, how long have you been my aide?" "Two years, Senator." "And in those two years, how many threatening emails, phone calls, and bricks through my home window have I gotten?" "One thousand one hundred and fifty-two emails, two hundred and seven phone calls, and three bricks." "When was the last brick?" "It was seven months after I started, but I still-" "Pete, these people are all bark and no bite. I can't let them intimidate me out of fighting for more sane laws governing our country's use of domestic firepower. You told me when you started you believed in that. Your sister lost her eye in Aurora, didn't she?" Pete blinked. "Yes." "How is she doing?" "She's fine. We finally saw The Dark Knight Rises together a couple of months ago." "It sounds like she's recovering well. But she'd have both eyes if our country had better gun control." "You know I don't disagree." "Which is why you increased my security the first time. And since then I've been more safe. Right?" Pete knew he wasn't going to win, but rather than concede, he nodded. He actually wanted the Senator to build up a good head of steam before she hit the floor. She was at her best when she spoke from the heart, regardless of how much the others in the room wanted to hear what she had to say. She saved her profanity for outside of the room, of course, but Pete always heard it raw and uncensored. Although he would have paid cash money to hear her call the one Senator from Massachusetts a "raging idiotic cock-piston" to his face. "Right," was what he said out loud. "So don't get more security people. Make sure my cases are air-tight. Get the words for my speeches exact. You know how I think and how I talk. That's what you should be focused on. I'm safe. Count on that." Pete nodded, stepping in front of the Senator to open the door for her. The session was about to begin and they could hear other Senators milling about by and in their seats. She gave him a smile and patted his arm. "Thanks, Pete. Time to take the kid gloves off, eh?" He nodded. "Knock 'em dead, ma'am." A twinkle in her eye, she headed into the chamber. Pete closed the door behind her and walked back to his office. He checked her schedule: after her appearance in the Senate, she had dinner scheduled with an anti-gun lobbyist and two other Senators. The actual vote wasn't for a few more days, but there was no need to slow down once the session ended. He called one of the security detail and arranged for them to get the Senator's car from the nearby garage. He then went through the Senator's official email again. They wanted to shoot her dead, they wanted to grind her into hamburger like the fat cow she was, they wanted to see her burn in Hell for being so anti-American, they called her a socialist and a lesbian, so on and so forth. It was starting to get boring, truth be told. They never did anything original. A couple hours later, he was walking to meet her after the session when he saw two uniformed policemen and a detective standing in the hallway waiting for her. They said nothing to him, waiting for the Senator to emerge. That's when she found out her car had been rigged to explode and the security officer Pete had sent was dead. "Apparently," the detective said, "it was on a timer meant to go off when you were on your way to dinner. But they fucked it up and it only killed that one poor guy who went to get it." Pete said nothing. His stomach was a knot of nausea. The Senator, her eyes slightly wet but neither wide nor quivering, looked to him. "Did he have any family?" "A brother at Walter Reed. Both of them are... were... Afghanistan veterans." "See to it that he gets full military honors at his funeral. He deserves that much." "Of course, ma'am." "And Pete?" She touched his arm. "Let's go ahead and up my security detail. Make sure my husband and kids are safe, would you?" "Right away, ma'am." Pete did his duty. The Senator's family was all present and accounted for. After he was done making the arrangements, he looked in on the Senator in her office. She sat behind her desk, quietly weeping, rapidly running out of tissues. Pete got her a fresh box. "Thanks." She blew her nose. "I'm sorry." "You didn't know." She shook her head. Pete changed the subject. "How's the vote look?" She looked up, her eyes red. "Oh, you bet your ass we're getting this bill passed."

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Quick Like A Bunny

Quick Like A Bunny — Blue Ink Alchemy

Today's post will have to be short and, unfortunately, not very substantial. I have not one, but two projects due today at the dayjob. One has a few hiccups that need to be dealt with before it's ready for primetime, and the other has but one tickbox remaining on its to-do list but is proving rather frustrating. I need to devote as much time as possible to them today. Since the dayjob is still my primary source of income, and the missus starts school on Wednesday, I must remain on top of my game as far as that is concerned. So Flash Fiction is bumped until tomorrow and it's time for me to hit the showers. Try to enjoy your Monday. Emphasis on "try".

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Prizes & Perseverence

Writer Report: Prizes & Perseverence — Blue Ink Alchemy

Today, the Cold Iron giveaway comes to an end. Ye Olde D6 of Fate has determined the following winners: Nenad Ristic M Raine Barnes Blair Turberfield Mia Congratulations! I will be contacting you individually to find out in what format you'd like your free copy of Cold Iron. If you missed out on the giveaway, or didn't realize I was even having one, don't fret! The good news in the world of urban fantasy detective yarns doesn't stop there. For the next week, the price of Cold Iron is dropping to 99 cents. This sale is happening on all three platforms: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords. It may take a bit for the big boys to catch up, but trust me, the price will stay there all week long. If you haven't gotten a copy yet, now's a great time! Meanwhile this week has been very busy. Between the load at work, trying to maintain something resembling a workout routine, and looking for our next home, I've been struggling to carve out the time to work on Cold Streets. It's like trying to get a cut of beef from a cow that's still moving. Not that I would try to render an animal that's still alive, that's just mean and cruel. Anyway, I've been through patches like this before, and I'll persevere. I have a goal in sight, and I'm going to reach it. Somehow.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Prizes & Panic

Writer Report: Prizes & Panic — Blue Ink Alchemy

Today, the Cold Iron giveaway comes to an end. Ye Olde D6 of Fate has determined the following winners: Nenad Ristic M Raine Barnes Blair Turberfield Mia Congratulations! I will be contacting you individually to find out in what format you'd like your free copy of Cold Iron. If you missed out on the giveaway, or didn't realize I was even having one, don't fret! The good news in the world of urban fantasy detective yarns doesn't stop there. For the next week, the price of Cold Iron is dropping to 99 cents. This sale is happening on all three platforms: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords. It may take a bit for the big boys to catch up, but trust me, the price will stay there all week long. If you haven't gotten a copy yet, now's a great time! Meanwhile this week has been very busy. Between the load at work, trying to maintain something resembling a workout routine, and looking for our next home, I've been struggling to carve out the time to work on Cold Streets. It's like trying to get a cut of beef from a cow that's still moving. Not that I would try to render an animal that's still alive, that's just mean and cruel.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Gaming Like A Pro

Gaming Like A Pro — Blue Ink Alchemy

I will admit to a measure of envy when it comes to professional gamers. To make a living doing nothing but playing video games, jetting from event to event, knowing my exploits are being televised or streamed for the entertainment of others as I accumulate wins and prize money: these are all appealing thoughts, to me. However, there are several factors outside of time for practice that would take away from things like writing that keep me from pursuing this particular goal. First of all, professional gamers have to maintain a particularly intense mind set to really achieve success. This intensity, due to the nature of the games, has to come in short, brilliant bursts, as a single session of a video game can completely change things. I'd liken it to pro gamers being like sprinters, while other professionals like writers are more marathon runners. I don't think there's anything necessarily wrong with this mindset, and I can't fault someone for having passion in pursuit of a dream, but it ties into something I'll get to in a moment, something that holds me back from making the attempt to go pro. Secondly, you have to stop looking at the game as just a game. You have to examine it from all fronts, determine a strategy for yourself that is tough to beat, and practice it over and over again so that when the time is right, you can execute what you do best as expediently as possible. I like to theorycraft, strategize, and exercise a tactical mindset from time to time, sure - Friday Night Magic and what surrounds it are good examples - but as much as that line of thought may be up my alley, it does mean that the game will cease being something I can just pick up and play, and would instead become part of a daily routine much like commuting to work or carving out time to write. The third, final, and most important reason I will not ever be a pro gamer is that I don't want the game to stop being fun. Competitiveness in the course of a match is great. Theorycrafting to try something new and different engages my mind. Doing both every single day as a means towards making money seems, to me, like it would suck all the fun out of playing the game. Gaming has always been a stress reliever for me, and it's only become a source of stress when I've lost sight of the fact that a game should be fun. It's designed to be fun. And if I'm not having fun with a game, I should be able to take a break from it, play a different game, relax. I couldn't do that as a professional gamer. I could be exaggerating things, and maybe it's not as bad as it seems from the outside. Some of my favorite people on the Internet make their living commentating and streaming games and gameplay, which seems much more attainable and maintains games as fun for the most part. But I still can't see myself "going pro" any time soon. As much as one might like the idea of playing games all day long, a job is a job, and a job isn't always fun. Gaming isn't fun when you lose, either, but I'd rather not have my paycheck get tied into whether or not I'm on tilt in League of Legends.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Lies We Tell Ourselves

Lies We Tell Ourselves — Blue Ink Alchemy

I've been trying to puzzle out where, exactly, the 'little voice' comes from. You know the one I mean. When we work, when we strain ourselves, when we step outside our comfort zones or make time for something significant, that's when you hear it. It isn't intrusive and it isn't even all that whiny, but it's always trying to discourage us. The discouragement isn't always malicious. At times, it can sound downright helpful. It will remind us of upcoming appointments that will keep us from reaching our projected end point. It will point out how much this set of joints is aching or how deep the burning sensation in our chest is going. It brings up mental images and passages from other works that play in the same fields we do and are already successful where we are still struggling. In the end, though, the message boils down to putting what we're doing aside, stopping before we hurt ourselves... quitting. It is, of course, a pack of lies. Yes, there are only so many hours in the day. Yes, there are limits to what our bodies can do. But those limits only remain as long as they are not pushed. The hours in our day are not fixed; we can move things around to carve out the time we need to do what we want. It really is a case of mind over matter, of responding to the 'little voice' saying "Thanks, but no thanks, I got this." I'm still not entirely sure why we lie to ourselves in this way. We try to talk ourselves into not giving our all, not striving for our goals. We succeed in not straining ourselves, and in doing so, we set ourselves up for failure. Why any rational, sane human being would willingly do this is a mystery to me. The best I can come up with (being a total amateur at this sort of thing) is that it's a defense mechanism. The body and our perception of time and exterior influences generate reactions, and at times these reactions happen more quickly than our minds can fully process them. Think about it; I'm sure many a time you've looked back on yesterday and said, "Oh, I actually would have had time to do X if I had held off on doing Y." We opt for the comfort and ease rather than delaying our satisfaction in order to move closer towards achieving a goal. It's the same sort of reaction that tries to get us to back off from physical exertion. If you're 'feeling the burn' and trying to push yourself towards a goal - five more minutes, five more pounds, reaching the end of the block at a jogging pace rather than a walking one - your body will try and tell you that it's more trouble than it's worth. That it's time to ratchet back a bit. Take a break. Go easier on yourself. Since it's inside your head, it isn't impolite to tell that voice to fuck directly off. Unless you're in real danger of hurting yourself, unless you're taking time away from truly important things like family or you're in jeopardy if missing a deadline that could cost you a lucrative job, kick that little voice's ass. Test your limits, to see if you can break them. Carve out the time you need, in bloody chunks if you have to. The envelope is there to be pushed - push the hell out of it. It's easier said than done, I know. But when you're in the moment, when you're on the cusp of achieving something or reaching a goal, and you start to feel that little voice tickling your mental ear, that's when you engage your mind and simply say, "No. I will not lie to myself. I will get this done. I can rest after it's over." And no matter what the cost is, you'll feel better in the long run.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Remembering Tony Scott

Remembering Tony Scott — Blue Ink Alchemy

We're not entirely sure why director Tony Scott took his own life. There was a rumor involving inoperable brain cancer, but his family has said he did not have that condition, nor any other major medical problems they knew of. Still, a great light has gone out in the world of cinematic storytelling. While some filmmakers play it safe, Tony Scott wasn't afraid to go odd places and do interesting things. Take True Romance, for example. An ambling and pulpy tale of drugs, sleaze, the road, and (yes) romance, he presents the quirks of the characters and the odd circumstances of the story as baldly as possible. While it's clearly a Tarantino script, Scott's direction actually reigns in that manic energy and channels it in such a way that it mounts towards the climax, rather than spewing all over the place (e.g. Kill Bill). With a great cast, interesting score, and a whip-fast pace, it's a fun little movie sure to be enjoyed. Crimson Tide, along with Hunt for Red October, actually made me consider a career as a submariner. What could have been a military hardware wankfest in the hands of Michael Bay becomes a tense, character-driven thriller on the specter of nuclear war in the modern age. Despite being made in 1995, the story is set up so that the villain in a foreign land with weapons of mass destruction is ultimately superfluous. The film focuses on the isolated nature of these sailors, and the tension between Gene Hackman and Denzel Washington virtually crackles through the air. It's a fantastic film, one of my favorites, and it really cemented in my mind a deep-seated loathing for James Gandolfini. I'm sure he's a decent guy in person, I've just hated every single character he's ever played. Speaking of Denzel, Scott directed him in two other films I've seen and enjoyed: Man on Fire and Deja Vu. You don't often see movies set in Mexico City, but that setting is perfect for Man on Fire. Instead of tension, this time we see a rapport building between Denzel's character and Dakota Fanning, who is shockingly good in this film. Once the second act begins after the slow-burn build of the first, it's an edge-of-your-seat ride. The things Denzel's character does to get what he wants are fairly brutal and thorough. Before Taken, Man on Fire was the go-to template for films of honorable if flawed men doing whatever it takes for the sake of an innocent child. Finally, there's Deja Vu. It may not be Scott's strongest film, but it's still compelling in its storytelling and fascinating in its premise. A detective drama that becomes a treatise on time travel is certainly not something you see every day. While it has its flaws and hiccups, the concept is sold incredibly well, between Denzel's straightforward approach to the problem to Adam Goldberg's flippant and funny remarks on the super-science to Paula Patton's performance, which is mostly just a presence for the first half of the film. I think it's a bit underrated, and while it's not perfect, it's still a good film. It's been a long time since I've seen Top Gun so I can't really comment on that. I also need to watch Domino, Enemy of the State, Unstoppable, and The Hunger. I know, I know, my vampire cred is going to suffer because I haven't yet seen The Hunger front to back, but trust me, I'm definitely going to correct that. I can't think of a better way of remembering Tony Scott than enjoying his films as much as I can, now and for the rest of my life.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: Breaking Out

Flash Fiction: Breaking Out — Blue Ink Alchemy

It's amazing how much anonymity one gains in a prison when there's a riot in progress. It didn't take much to set it off. Even from the inside, Don Forli still had a lot of pull, and a lot of guys wanted a piece of his action. When he ended up in the infirmary, the lines got drawn between camps pretty quickly. But youon't subscribe to either one. You're done with this squabbling and scheming long ago. Five years you've been waiting. You didn't act against Don Forli directly. That wouldn't have worked out. It was just a matter of time before somebody else got this started. Besides, you'd always been cut from a different cloth. You're not a gangster, and being a murderer was never an aspiration of yours. What should have been a clear-cut case of self-defense became something else when your wife revealed she'd been having an affair with the man you found in your home. Suddenly, the jury saw jealous rage. Next thing you knew, the judge was slamming his gavel after handing down a 15-20 year sentence, parole possible in ten. As soon as you got here, and heard about Don Forli's dodgy health and spoke with some of the other inmates, the plan began to take shape. When Don Forli got laid up, you still waited. Waited until your rotation through the infirmary, changing bed sheets and bed pans and any of the other shit work the actual medical professionals didn't want to deal with. Those same professionals weren't present in the room when you found the syringe. Some Windex was kept in the supply closet to keep the windows clean. You did the math. One faction accused another and now, here you are, in the middle of a riot. Sirens are blaring. Guards are calling for reinforcements. Hardened criminals are going at it with shivs, broken chair legs, teeth, and bare fists. You are trying to avoid most of the fighting. Your focus is not on who becomes the next Don or whatever. Your focus is on the plan. Stick to the plan. "Where do you think you're going?" Guard Baldwin, right on time. He's about your size, patrols your cell block, and has a nasty disposition. He loves to call you and your fellow inmates 'abominations' when rape happens in here. He also talks about how he can't wait for 'that gay black Muslim' to not be President anymore. You're his favorite captive audience, and probably the only one that will listen to him because you're locked up. "Away. From you, specifically." "Easy there, fag, I don't want to take you away from your boyfriend-" You wait for him to get close before you take his club and smash his throat with it. He drops and you drag him to one side of the corridor. The rioting isn't as bad here, and you're left relatively alone. Good thing, too, because if your 'buddies' saw you stripping Baldwin, they might think you were after some revenge. But you'll leave that for others. In moments, you have his uniform on, and have left him bound, hands behind his back, with a rope made from bedsheets. His ass is in the air, and you put a sign in his hands for all to see: HAVE FUN. Just in time, too: here comes the tear gas. Baldwin had a handkerchief in his pocket. You cover your mouth and nose, pull your hat down low, and try to head towards the incoming cops in riot gear. You push, shove, and occasionally beat your way through the crowd, which is now going berserk as inmates either try to find shelter from the gas or take the opportunity for some cheap shots on someone they really don't like. Finally, you feel strong hands on your shoulders, and for a very brief, very frightening moment, you fear the jig is up. The hands pull you behind the mask-wearing cops, a mask is shoved on you, and you're helped back towards the entrance. Someone tells you there's a medic that will check you out. You struggle to remain standing, grab onto your new friend, mutter something about an injury. When you collapse, you don't pass out, but you keep your eyes closed and your breathing steady as they haul you out to the ambulance. They put you on the gurney and start checking you out. Opening one eye, you see a cop standing by you as the EMTs take basic readings and ready an IV. Before they can get it in, you sit up, grab the cop's gun, and smack the guy with it. The EMTs have their hands up immediately. They're professionals, so they don't panic at the sight of a loaded gun being pointed at them. "Drive. We're leaving." They get a few blocks from the prison before you take money from one of their wallets, tell them to look after the cop, and hoof it. You're in half a guard uniform (meaning itchy slacks and uncomfortable shoes), it's cold as balls out here, but you're out. You walk out of a thrift store with a new shirt before anybody can stop you, and the bus takes you towards home. You think you have maybe two hours before roadblocks go up and they catch up with you. They'll be able to put it together, too. Every week, you've been getting the letters. Every week, you receive a new drawing, mostly crayon etchings of the house, or a new pet, or some other event. But now and again, you see an angry face, a male face that isn't yours. Every once in a while, when she thinks he won't see it before her mother mails it, she writes in the jagged letters of an eight year old, "He's hurting us." You know you have no right to go there. You may be just as bad as whomever this man is. But if he's hurting your girls, you're gonna hurt him right back.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Cold Iron Giveaway!

Cold Iron Giveaway! — Blue Ink Alchemy

Let's keep it simple, folks: I am giving away five copies of Cold Iron. While the buzz of the book has been positive overall, it's also been relatively quiet. I need to amp up the signal, get more people interested, ensure that the work I'm putting out is, in fact, worth the asking price. I need reviews! Even if they're bad ones, at least it'd be something worth reporting. It'd be preferable to this silence. So here's what we're going to do. If you're reading this, and you'd like to help me out, leave a comment telling me your favorite detective OR favorite vampire story, and why. Next week, I will select five comments and contact the winners, who will receive Cold Iron in a format of their choosing. It's my hope that, after reading it, the lucky quintet would be willing to throw a review up on Amazon, Smashwords, their blog, or maybe the side of a 7-11 somewhere. No rules beyond that other than the obligatory one entry per person, and be sure to fill out the comment form with a proper e-mail address so I know how to contact you when you win. Learn more about Cold Iron by clicking thataway. So what are you waiting for? Leave a comment and start telling folks about gumshoes and the undead!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Cold Iron Giveaway!

Cold Iron Giveaway! — Blue Ink Alchemy

Let's keep it simple, folks: I am giving away five copies of Cold Iron. While the buzz of the book has been positive overall, it's also been relatively quiet. I need to amp up the signal, get more people interested, ensure that the work I'm putting out is, in fact, worth the asking price. I need reviews! Even if they're bad ones, at least it'd be something worth reporting. It'd be preferable to this silence. So here's what we're going to do. If you're reading this, and you'd like to help me out, leave a comment telling me your favorite detective OR favorite vampire story, and why. Next week, I will select five comments and contact the winners, who will receive Cold Iron in a format of their choosing. It's my hope that, after reading it, the lucky quintet would be willing to throw a review up on Amazon, Smashwords, their blog, or maybe the side of a 7-11 somewhere. No rules beyond that other than the obligatory one entry per person, and be sure to fill out the comment form with a proper e-mail address so I know how to contact you when you win. So what are you waiting for? Leave a comment and start telling folks about gumshoes and the undead!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Cold Iron Giveaway!

Cold Iron Giveaway! — Blue Ink Alchemy

Let's keep it simple, folks: I am giving away five copies of Cold Iron. While the buzz of the book has been positive overall, it's also been relatively quiet. I need to amp up the signal, get more people interested, ensure that the work I'm putting out is, in fact, worth the asking price. I need reviews! Even if they're bad ones, at least it'd be something worth reporting. It'd be preferable to this silence. So here's what we're going to do. If you're reading this, and you'd like to help me out, leave a comment telling me your favorite detective OR favorite vampire story, and why. Next week, I will select five comments and contact the winners, who will receive Cold Iron in a format of their choosing. It's my hope that, after reading it, the lucky quintet would be willing to throw a review up on Amazon, Smashwords, their blog, or maybe the side of a 7-11 somewhere. No rules beyond that other than the obligatory one entry per person, and be sure to fill out the comment form with a proper e-mail address so I know how to contact you when you win. So what are you waiting for? Leave a comment and start telling folks about gumshoes and the undead!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Pulp Problems

Pulp Problems — Blue Ink Alchemy

I've been struggling to put together the sci-fi serial I want to start. I've come at some concepts from a couple angles, but they've been either too derivative or too preachy. My desire to brush up a tried-and-true aspect of the sci-fi genre should not have 'fixing Star Wars' as an end goal. The end goal should be to tell a good story, right? Right. So why sci-fi adventure? I think my attraction to it, other than nostalgia, is my appreciation of its narrative simplicity. Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, and John Carter are extremely similar stories in that an ordinary man is transported to an unfamiliar place and becomes an undisputed hero. They also draw very definite lines between good and evil. There's a brevity to their construction I can't help but appreciate. But at the same time, I realize that some of these tales are a bit too simple, and as much fun as they are for me, they don't necessarily hold up. I mean, let's face it. I enjoy Captain America as an old-school adventure yarn, and personally find a straight-arrow character who's unquestionably virtuous kind of refreshing in a cynical, morally gray world where every hero has to be tortured, conflicted, or shady in some way. However, I can't deny that putting such a character up against a scientist so evil Hitler kicked him out of the Nazis is a bit laughable. There's also the fact that his magical bottle superpowers don't really cost him much, other than some friends dying or going missing, until he wakes up in the 21st century. He becomes, like Rogers and Gordon and Carter, a man out of his element, and sticking to his moral guns brings him into direct contact with many people around him. It's a far more interesting and involving situation than the clear-cut black-and-white conflict that essentially created him. The biggest problems with pulp, as far as I can see, are a lack of lasting consequences and the main character's biggest flaw being they have no real flaws. If our hero is going to get flung across space and time, there should be culture shock involved beyond having to learn some new lingo. It also should not fall to the protagonist to suddenly be the entity to whom everyone turns to get their problems solved. Stories like Avatar (the movie), Dances with Wolves, and The Last Samurai all suffer due to this sort of character insertion. We also can't have status quo being restored at the end of every week. As far as I'm concerned, in a good serial, the status is never quo. Even if there's no immediate danger, there should be consequences that linger, situations that feel unresolved, words that go unspoken. How else can you keep the audience coming back for more? I don't want to base the story on concepts or gimmickry, though I'm certain the trappings will be there. I would like there to be a narrative through-line other than "Our hero wants to go home," but I fear falling into one of the aforementioned traps. The shiny, adventurous atmosphere of the raygun gothic aesthetic still calls to me, but I can't set out to fix what doesn't work in other stories or try to transmit some kind of message. This needs to stand on its own, as all good writing does. If you have any thoughts or comments on any of this, I'd love to hear them.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Keeping It Real

Keeping It Real — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm a sucker for the fantastical and out-there just as much as any nerd. I grew up adoring the concept of giant fighting robots that disguised themselves as cars. I like faster-than-light travel, I love dragons, superheroes do not seem ridiculous to me, and I believe anything is possible when the human mind is set to a task. That said, you have to keep it real in some way or another. It's one of the reasons I liked Nolan's take on Batman so much. It completely divested itself of any sort of camp, far-fetched villains, or completely unbelievable science Batman would need to solve his problems. None of the solutions are magical. And while several characters from The Avengers are arguably gods amongst men, they are presented in such a way that they are still characters, using their powers and abilities as tools rather than being defined by them. "Take [the Iron Man suit] away, and what are you?" is a question Captain America could have put to Bruce Banner or Thor, and both of them would have had answers. They're real characters, even if their powers make them much larger than life. It can be a fine line to walk, though. You can't ever let a special power become a one-size-fits-all answer to whatever problem is in front of your hero. Take, for example, the action-comedy-espionage TV series Chuck. For a while, the ubiquitous Intersect computer taking up Chuck's poor brain is simply an encyclopedic database allowing him to provide vital intelligence and clues to his handlers. However, it later gets upgraded and allows him to, among other things, know kung-fu. After introducing a much more plausible and in-character means for him to step up to the level of the other two leads - a wrist-mounted computer that can hack anything, displays nearby floor plans, and could presumably be worked on by our hero - he's handed a different means that is mostly used as a deus ex machina to get him out of trouble. By contrast, consider Fringe. At no point in that show is an answer easily found or invoked to get our characters out of a situation. Choices must be made, actions always have consequences, and the status quo of the show is constantly in question. There's no magic button to return everything to normal. While the show does have problems of the week, the resolution of the problem does not necessarily mean a happy ending. It could be argued that Chuck is a comedy and Fringe is not, therefore the former does not need to be taken as seriously or given the same scrutiny, but that argument's faulty. Giving your characters an easy way out through some artificial or magical means just smacks of laziness to me. If you make such things too prevalent or rely on them to drive your story forward, your characters are going to suffer. This is true no matter what the genre or medium is. Harry Dresden may be a wizard, but never do his powers allow him an easy solution, and all of his actions have consequences, sometimes deadly ones. I'm in the third season of both Chuck and Fringe (thanks, respectively, to a friend's DVD collection and Amazon instant video) and the disparity is pretty clear to me. As characters grow and tension mounts in Fringe, I feel characters becoming stunted and stagnant in Chuck. I maintain that you cannot let the trappings of genre and the coolness of powers or gadgetry overshadow the characters or stakes of your story. Even when you're dealing with the most far-flung of fantasies, you have to keep it real.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Shadow of the Bat

Shadow of the Bat — Blue Ink Alchemy

The Dark Knight trilogy is over. Nolan's Batverse is closed, and its story concluded. In the end, what was it all about? What, in the end, was the ultimate point of stripping out the more superfluous and ridiculous elements of Batman, from blatantly supernatural enemies like Clayface to the presence of easy-to-access Bat Anti-Whatever's-Trying-To-Eat-Bruce-Wayne's-Face Spray? Going by The Dark Knight Rises alone, you might be tempted to conclude "Not very much." But unlike some movie series who tack a couple movies on after their first one was a success (*cough*THE MATRIX*cough*), I think Nolan had a plan from the beginning with these films. I believe there is a theme that permeates all three stories, in addition to their individual themes of fear, chaos, and pain (in chronological order). By removing the more comic book oriented portions of this comic book story, Christopher Nolan focused more on the characters of this world, and the city they inhabit, showing us what it takes to be these extraordinary people and what sacrifices they must make to preserve their ideals, their homes, and their loved ones. Ultimately, the Dark Knight trilogy is about perseverance. It's about never giving up. Hell, there's an exchange that happens multiple times in Batman Begins that underscores this very sentiment:

Bruce: Still haven't given up on me?
Alfred: Never.

The events of Batman Begins shifts Bruce's focus from personal vengeance to protecting the city his beloved parents built and tried to defend in their own way. But this is only a course correction; he doesn't really give up or change his mind. He still has the determination to do what he must to become what his city needs, instead of using that determination to fulfill the desires of his own rage. We're shown this aspect of Bruce rather than being told about it, and it's why so much time is spent on his training and travels in comparison to his gadgets and gizmos. It's why Batman Begins works as well as it does. The Dark Knight raises the stakes by adding another figure who is just as determined, every measure as fanatical, and more than willing to cross lines that keep Batman from becoming a dark reflection of the crimes he fights. What Heath Ledger did with the Joker was put Batman up against a funhouse mirror, a distortion of his will and never-say-die attitude. Throughout the running time of The Dark Knight, Batman and the Joker play a psychological game of Chicken, each daring the other to divert from their course to cause them to fail. The Joker wants to see Batman destroy himself; Batman wants to see the Joker sabotage his own plans. This makes it not only a tense, involving story from start to finish, but the best movie in the trilogy by far. What, then, do we do with The Dark Knight Rises, if the stakes were already raised so high? Here's where Christopher Nolan posits a keen question, one that might have been missed, if we take this overarching theme to its logical conclusion. "What happens when Batman does give up?" When The Dark Knight Rises begins, Batman's been retired for years. Gotham City is being controlled by the draconian measures of the Dent Act, and it seems like Bruce's type of justice is no longer necessary. He's let himself decay, felt his resolve erode, and he's even begun to lose faith in the people he so vehemently defended against the menaces of Scarecrow, Ra's al Ghul, Joker, and Two-Face. He lets his guard down. He thinks peace can last. And that's when Bane slips into the City to tear it down from within. Bane is the indicator that Bruce giving up was a mistake. He throws Bruce's lack of vigilance in his face. If he had stayed out there, if he had been prepared, Bane might never have gotten into Gotham in the first place. Instead, Bane sets his plans in motion with only minimal resistance, obliterating every obstacle in his path and nearly killing Commissioner Gordon. And when Batman does confront him, Bane breaks him. Bruce's body matches his spirit, and he is left a wreck festering in the bottom of a pit wondering why he's still alive. This is why the second half of Dark Knight Rises is not, as some might posit, a re-tread of the first. When Bruce dons his cowl for the first time in the film, it's reluctantly. He steps out of retirement because nobody else can do it, and he doesn't even want to himself. Even Alfred knows Bruce's heart has gone out of the fight. When he's broken and left to rot, he must reach inside of himself and find that ember of rage that sparked the fire inside of him, that part of himself that he tried to bury when he gave up being Batman. He has to find his determination again, and when he does, he rises. It's the whole point of the film, and of the entire trilogy. Why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves back up. Nolan's always been a cerebral filmmaker, espousing the notion of mind over matter. I believe that his Batman films are no different. Behind the trappings of comic book heroism and colorful villainy, Nolan is telling a story of the power of the determination, of never giving up, never saying die. He shows us where that power comes from, how it behaves when taken to its extremes, and what happens when we lose sight of it. It makes the story complete, coherent, and meaningful. The Dark Knight Rises has its share of problems, but in the end, it stands well on its own, and as part of Nolan's trilogy on the Batman, rounds out the tale of one man's determination to make a difference. While Joss Whedon may have the chops to pull off this kind of storytelling without taking three movies to do it, I think it's safe to say that most if not all other superhero films coming up in the next few years will be standing in the shadow of the bat.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Shadow of the Bat

Shadow of the Bat — Blue Ink Alchemy

The Dark Knight trilogy is over. Nolan's Batverse is closed, and its story concluded. In the end, what was it all about? What, in the end, was the ultimate point of stripping out the more superfluous and ridiculous elements of Batman, from blatantly supernatural enemies like Clayface to the presence of easy-to-access Bat Anti-Whatever's-Trying-To-Eat-Bruce-Wayne's-Face Spray? Going by The Dark Knight Rises alone, you might be tempted to conclude "Not very much." But unlike some movie series who tack a couple movies on after their first one was a success (*cough*THE MATRIX*cough*), I think Nolan had a plan from the beginning with these films. I believe there is a theme that permeates all three stories, in addition to their individual themes of fear, chaos, and pain (in chronological order). By removing the more comic book oriented portions of this comic book story, Christopher Nolan focused more on the characters of this world, and the city they inhabit, showing us what it takes to be these extraordinary people and what sacrifices they must make to preserve their ideals, their homes, and their loved ones. Ultimately, the Dark Knight trilogy is about perseverance. It's about never giving up. Hell, there's an exchange that happens multiple times in Batman Begins that underscores this very sentiment:

Bruce: Still haven't given up on me?
Alfred: Never.

The events of Batman Begins shifts Bruce's focus from personal vengeance to protecting the city his beloved parents built and tried to defend in their own way. But this is only a course correction; he doesn't really give up or change his mind. He still has the determination to do what he must to become what his city needs, instead of using that determination to fulfill the desires of his own rage. We're shown this aspect of Bruce rather than being told about it, and it's why so much time is spent on his training and travels in comparison to his gadgets and gizmos. It's why Batman Begins works as well as it does. The Dark Knight raises the stakes by adding another figure who is just as determined, every measure as fanatical, and more than willing to cross lines that keep Batman from becoming a dark reflection of the crimes he fights. What Heath Ledger did with the Joker was put Batman up against a funhouse mirror, a distortion of his will and never-say-die attitude. Throughout the running time of The Dark Knight, Batman and the Joker play a psychological game of Chicken, each daring the other to divert from their course to cause them to fail. The Joker wants to see Batman destroy himself; Batman wants to see the Joker sabotage his own plans. This makes it not only a tense, involving story from start to finish, but the best movie in the trilogy by far. What, then, do we do with The Dark Knight Rises, if the stakes were already raised so high? Here's where Christopher Nolan posits a keen question, one that might have been missed, if we take this overarching theme to its logical conclusion. "What happens when Batman does give up?" When The Dark Knight Rises begins, Batman's been retired for years. Gotham City is being controlled by the draconian measures of the Dent Act, and it seems like Bruce's type of justice is no longer necessary. He's let himself decay, felt his resolve erode, and he's even begun to lose faith in the people he so vehemently defended against the menaces of Scarecrow, Ra's al Ghul, Joker, and Two-Face. He lets his guard down. He thinks peace can last. And that's when Bane slips into the City to tear it down from within. Bane is the indicator that Bruce giving up was a mistake. He throws Bruce's lack of vigilance in his face. If he had stayed out there, if he had been prepared, Bane might never have gotten into Gotham in the first place. Instead, Bane sets his plans in motion with only minimal resistance, obliterating every obstacle in his path and nearly killing Commissioner Gordon. And when Batman does confront him, Bane breaks him. Bruce's body matches his spirit, and he is left a wreck festering in the bottom of a pit wondering why he's still alive. This is why the second half of Dark Knight Rises is not, as some might posit, a re-tread of the first. When Bruce dons his cowl for the first time in the film, it's reluctantly. He steps out of retirement because nobody else can do it, and he doesn't even want to himself. Even Alfred knows Bruce's heart has gone out of the fight. When he's broken and left to rot, he must reach inside of himself and find that ember of rage that sparked the fire inside of him, that part of himself that he tried to bury when he gave up being Batman. He has to find his determination again, and when he does, he rises. It's the whole point of the film, and of the entire trilogy. Nolan's always been a cerebral filmmaker, espousing the notion of mind over matter. I believe that his Batman films are no different. Behind the trappings of comic book heroism and colorful villainy, Nolan is telling a story of the power of the determination, of never giving up, never saying die. He shows us where that power comes from, how it behaves when taken to its extremes, and what happens when we lose sight of it. It makes the story complete, coherent, and meaningful. The Dark Knight Rises has its share of problems, but in the end, it stands well on its own, and as part of Nolan's trilogy on the Batman, rounds out the tale of one man's determination to make a difference. While Joss Whedon may have the chops to pull off this kind of storytelling without taking three movies to do it, I think it's safe to say that most if not all other superhero films coming up in the next few years will be standing in the shadow of the bat.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Shadow of the Bat

Shadow of the Bat — Blue Ink Alchemy

The Dark Knight trilogy is over. Nolan's Batverse is closed, and its story concluded. In the end, what was it all about? What, in the end, was the ultimate point of stripping out the more superfluous and ridiculous elements of Batman, from blatantly supernatural enemies like Clayface to the presence of easy-to-access Bat Anti-Whatever's-Trying-To-Eat-Bruce-Wayne's-Face Spray? Going by The Dark Knight Rises alone, you might be tempted to conclude "Not very much." But unlike some movie series who tack a couple movies on after their first one was a success (*cough*THE MATRIX*cough*), I think Nolan had a plan from the beginning with these films. I believe there is a theme that permeates all three stories, in addition to their individual themes of fear, chaos, and pain (in chronological order). By removing the more comic book oriented portions of this comic book story, Christopher Nolan focused more on the characters of this world, and the city they inhabit, showing us what it takes to be these extraordinary people and what sacrifices they must make to preserve their ideals, their homes, and their loved ones. Ultimately, the Dark Knight trilogy is about perseverance. It's about never giving up. Hell, there's an exchange that happens multiple times in Batman Begins that underscores this very sentiment:

Bruce: Still haven't given up on me?
Alfred: Never.

The events of Batman Begins shifts Bruce's focus from personal vengeance to protecting the city his beloved parents build and tried to defend in their own way. But this is only a course correction; he doesn't really give up or change his mind. He still has the determination to do what he must to become what his city needs, instead of using that determination to fulfill the desires of his own rage. We're shown this aspect of Bruce rather than being told about it, and it's why so much time is spent on his training and travels in comparison to his gadgets and gizmos. It's why Batman Begins works as well as it does. The Dark Knight raises the stakes by adding another figure who is just as determined, every measure as fanatical, and more than willing to cross lines that keep Batman from becoming a dark reflection of the crimes he fights. What Heath Ledger did with the Joker was put Batman up against a funhouse mirror, a distortion of his will and never-say-die attitude. Throughout the running time of The Dark Knight, Batman and the Joker play a psychological game of Chicken, each daring the other to divert from their course to cause them to fail. The Joker wants to see Batman destroy himself; Batman wants to see the Joker sabotage his own plans. This makes it not only a tense, involving story from start to finish, but the best movie in the trilogy by far. What, then, do we do with The Dark Knight Rises, if the stakes were already raised so high? Here's where Christopher Nolan posits a keen question, one that might have been missed, if we take this overarching theme to its logical conclusion. "What happens when Batman does give up?" When The Dark Knight Rises begins, Batman's been retired for years. Gotham City is being controlled by the draconian measures of the Dent Act, and it seems like Bruce's type of justice is no longer necessary. He's let himself decay, felt his resolve erode, and he's even begun to lose faith in the people he so vehemently defended against the menaces of Scarecrow, Ra's al Ghul, Joker, and Two-Face. He lets his guard down. He thinks peace can last. And that's when Bane slips into the City to tear it down from within. Bane is the indicator that Bruce giving up was a mistake. He throws Bruce's lack of vigilance in his face. If he had stayed out there, if he had been prepared, Bane might never have gotten into Gotham in the first place. Instead, Bane sets his plans in motion with only minimal resistance, obliterating every obstacle in his path and nearly killing Commissioner Gordon. And when Batman does confront him, Bane breaks him. Bruce's body matches his spirit, and he is left a wreck festering in the bottom of a pit wondering why he's still alive. This is why the second half of Dark Knight Rises is not, as some might posit, a re-tread of the first. When Bruce dons his cowl for the first time in the film, it's reluctantly. He steps out of retirement because nobody else can do it, and he doesn't even want to himself. Even Alfred knows Bruce's heart has gone out of the fight. When he's broken and left to rot, he must reach inside of himself and find that ember of rage that sparked the fire inside of him, that part of himself that he tried to bury when he gave up being Batman. He has to find his determination again, and when he does, he rises. It's the whole point of the film, and of the entire trilogy. Nolan's always been a cerebral filmmaker, espousing the notion of mind over matter. I believe that his Batman films are no different. Behind the trappings of comic book heroism and colorful villainy, Nolan is telling a story of the power of the determination, of never giving up, never saying die. He shows us where that power comes from, how it behaves when taken to its extremes, and what happens when we lose sight of it. It makes the story complete, coherent, and meaningful. The Dark Knight Rises has its share of problems, but in the end, it stands well on its own, and as part of Nolan's trilogy on the Batman, rounds out the tale of one man's determination to make a difference. While Joss Whedon may have the chops to pull off this kind of storytelling without taking three movies to do it, I think it's safe to say that most if not all other superhero films coming up in the next few years will be standing in the shadow of the bat.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: Thursday

Flash Fiction: Thursday — Blue Ink Alchemy

For this week's Terribleminds flash fiction challenge, The Opening Line Revealed.

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Thursday was out to get me. I could have written off the last crumbs of breakfast cereal as poor planning ahead. Spilling coffee on my coat, that happens. Traffic being bad is more a rule than an exception. A pile of paperwork on my desk so close to the end of the week is an irritant, but usually nothing I can't get around or push through. When the office doors burst open and armed men walk in, it's a different story. We all dove under our desks. Most of us had been around guns or the military in some way, so we knew better than to run around or scream in panic. From the small space under my cubicle, I could see Anastasia's desk. She, too, was holding up the particle board as if it was about to fall on her. She was listening to the banter back and forth from the invaders, looked my way, and mouthed a word. Russian. That didn't quite fit with what I knew. Sure, many national agencies were curious about what we were working on at the behest of a virtual alphabet soup of government interests, but the Russians had been nothing but cordial with our contacts. I often traded e-mails with one of Anastasia's cousins who still lived in the Ukraine, so I could not conclude that these goons were government-issue. I peeked around the side of my cubicle. These guys were wearing heavy-duty work boots, probably steel-toed, but they weren't polished and showed quite a bit of wear and tear from places other than an urban environment. They were evidence of men and women who trotted the globe as expediently as possible, of contractors chasing paychecks. Mercenaries, then. I ducked back before I could see any faces. No sense in taking any chances. "We do not want to hurt anyone!" The leader had some bark in his voice. Probably a disenfranchised vet of some kind or another. "We want most senior analyst to speak with us!" Well, piss. I looked at Anastasia again and shrugged. Her green eyes went a bit wider, as if to warn me of what I was in for. In spite of what I saw in that gaze, I crawled out from under my desk, raised my hands, and slowly stood. "Then it's me you want. I'm Arthur Digby. I've got the most experience of anybody in here." The leader was a tall man of solid build with white hair done with a #2 clippers and the steely gaze of someone who's seen more than their share of battlefield horrors. He regarded me for a long moment as two of his guys trained their AKs on my chest. "You are brave man, speaking up so quickly." "You say you don't want to hurt anyone. I'll hold you to that. Ask me what you want, I'll answer what I can, and maybe we all go home happy tonight." "You tell co-workers not to call for help. Let us keep this private, yes?" I nodded. "Everybody turn off your cell phones. These men are going to collect them, and when this is over, we'll get them back. I'll go first." Slowly, I reached into my pocket, produced my government phone, and turned it off. The leader took it and handed it to a subordinate. "Let us talk in conference room." I nodded, following him into the glass-walled room. I finally got a count: seven-member team, five men and two women. The leader and two of the men lead the way into the conference room while one of the women kept a rifle on the back of my head. That left two men and a woman holding down an office of almost twenty analysts and consultants. I glanced at Anastasia as I was pushed into the room. "Have seat, Mister Digby. Let us talk about Project Ajax." I blinked. "Maybe you mean Operation Ajax, the CIA operation that deposed the prime minister of Iran in 1953?" The woman smacked me in the back of the head with the butt of her rifle. I saw stars. "That was rude. Now I need to recover from serious head trauma to answer your leader's questions." "Please, Mister Digby. Project Ajax." "Okay." I took a deep breath. I could see Anastasia was slowly moving towards the other three in the office. Sam, who had apparently recovered from the six-pack we'd split Wednesday night, was coming op on their other side. "Project Ajax is a government initiative to develop a short-range remote-controlled device to deliver intelligence on, and possible detonate within, enemy cave formations." "For your Afghan campaign, yes?" I rubbed the bridge of my nose. All three of the leader's cronies tracked the movement. Which meant they didn't see Sam and Anastasia working over the others in the office. "No, for the frat parties the crackpot militias in Colorado keep throwing. Yes, for the Afghan campaign, numb-nuts." If Thursday was going to beat me, it'd be now. The woman behind me wound up for another hit. Sam and Anastasia, now with AKs of their own, converged on the conference room. I kicked out from the chair, going to my knees as the wheeled executive leather hit the woman behind me. I reached up, finding her AK right where it should have been, and pulled. She had a strong grip. I pushed up with my legs, putting her on the table flat on her back. Sam and Anastasia subdued the other two men as I knocked the woman out. The leader had his hand on his sidearm, but with three rifles on him, he wisely raised his hands. "Sam, call it in. You, on your knees." Glaring at me, the leader of the mercs sank down. "This will not go unanswered." "Yeah? By whom? Who are you working for?" I tried to ignore the way Anastasia was watching me - damn, she's got pretty eyes. The leader said nothing, so I smacked him with the rifle. "Yeah. Sucks, doesn't it?"

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Writer At Work

Writer Report: Writer At Work — Blue Ink Alchemy

When you publish your own work, you have a lot of balls to keep in the air. You have to keep writing, first and foremost, but you also have to keep up the sales work, illicit opinions and reviews, get a feel for how the work is being received, so on and so forth. As much as I like to travel, seeing new places and reconnecting with acquaintances, this can eat in to those other tasks. That said, did I mention Cold Iron is still available for sale? Because it totally still is. I've made some progress on Cold Streets, and I have a fairly good notion on when I'm going to wrap the first draft. It's important to set deadlines: you always want to have a goal to shoot for, and in my case, it provides a timeline to which I feel I must adhere. It can be difficult for me to manage my time properly, and establishing deadlines helps with that. I'm at the stage where I'm picturing certain key scenes in my head, and just need to fill in the blanks between them on paper. Having made Cold Streets my primary writerly focus for the time being, other projects have been put aside but are still fairly important to me. I've been thinking about the serial nature of old-school pulp sci-fi, and since my idea for that genre hews closely to those sensibilities, I'm toying with the idea of posting the project serially here, or perhaps in a separate webspace, in lieu of these writer reports. Leave a comment to tell me what you think of this idea. Would you be interested to read some slightly old-school pulp science fiction instead of this somewhat dry blow-by-blow of my writing progress every week? Or is it a bad idea to split my focus? I need your thoughts, Internet.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The New Mythology

The New Mythology — Blue Ink Alchemy

Some of our stories are hundreds or even thousands of years old. Every once in a while, a book or TV series will claim it has an 'all-new' story, but in reality most of the plot points and character turns have probably been told before. This is likely not a conscious decision of the writer, and it in no way dilutes the deeper truth the story strives towards, but it cannot be denied that the roots of most stories run very deep into our past. Mankind has been telling stories since before language was something you wrote. Around fires and in caves, they relayed tales of great hunts, related how rivals were overthrown, and wondered about dreams and the world beyond what they knew. People wanted to learn about the triumphs and tragedies of others, and sharing these experiences enhanced them, gave them weight, and made them timeless. While more than a few of these simple, primal stories may have had some details forgotten, threads of them can be seen here and now, in the 21st century. Themes and patterns such as the hero's journey and good men struggling against their own natures as much as they do a rival or the elements persist because they still have something to teach us. Just as the ancient civilizations of the world found inspiration in their gods and champions, so too do we find it in big screen heroes and, occasionally, the actors who portray them. Myths have always been stories larger than life, speaking in broad terms to draw in as many minds as possible, and at the core of many you will find one of those timeless threads. The hero may be looking for his own identity in the face of a world that wants to redefine or obscure it. A good man is betrayed by a friend because of jealousy or greed. Tragedy causes someone to dedicate themselves to the pursuit of justice. None of these ideas are new, but the fact that they continue to captivate us means they are not without merit. Our new myths connects us to the old, entertaining and educating and provoking us to think just as they have for thousands of years. Your message is still important, even if someone else has conveyed it before. What's new about that message is how you convey it. Stories may share common elements but your voice is unique. Let it be heard. The new mythology needs new myth-makers, new storytellers to keep our stories going further into the future. Are you going to be one of them?

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Looking Ahead at Guild Wars 2: Professions

Looking Ahead at Guild Wars 2: Professions — Blue Ink Alchemy

Has it really been almost a year since I last discussed Guild Wars 2? Sheesh, it's like I've been busy or something. But the release of the game is now a mere 20 days away, and I am finding myself a little flummoxed with indecision. Normally, with games such as this, I will have a main character with whom I'll do the bulk of my adventuring and role-playing, and several alts with which I'll dabble. But with the game eschewing traditional ideas of class roles and boasting a diverse stable, I'm not sure where I'll begin. I've discussed the races previously, and now it's time to tackle the professions. The Warrior, Ranger, and Thief professions are, perhaps, the most traditional ones that will be available. Like all professions in Guild Wars 2, however, each has access to a variety of weapons, and the equipment you carry determines the skills you have available. Warriors are almost always in-your-face damage dealers, but it's also possible to carry a shield for some damage mitigation or switch to a rifle when you want to deal damage at range. Similarly, while Rangers are traditionally striking from afar, they can also use dual axes or a sword and dagger combination to get up close and personal. While a Thief can go the traditional daggers route or keep their distance with a brace of pistols, they also can actively steal from an opponent, gaining a situational weapon and skills to change up their role on the fly. A few of the professions are concerned with controlling the battlefield. Engineers use turrets, mines, grenades, and elixirs tossed from their tool belts to either help their allies or hinder their foes. The tools available change based on the loadout the Engineer has chosen. Guardians, as well, have abilities that can assist those around them or wreck havoc on the enemy. The Guardian combines their variety of weapons with the drawing out of one of three virtues - Courage, Justice, or Resolve - to produce effects that hinder enemy movement, protects allies, or turns the very ground beneath their feet into the best place to be for carrying on the fight. The aforementioned professions fall into the categories of 'Soldier' or 'Adventurer'. 'Scholars' are what we would traditionally consider "magic-users" but even among these professions, there is diversity and depth. Elementalists focus on attacks that utilize one of the four elements - Earth, Air, Water, or Fire - and the character can switch between them at will just as they can their equipment. Necromancers steal the life force of their foes, using it to fuel their dark magic and weaken the enemy while summoning minions to do their bidding. Last but never least, the Mesmer is a master of illusion and misdirection, distracting the enemy with clones and phantasms that can shatter and cause all sorts of mayhem for anybody unfortunate enough to be standing nearby. The professions that hold the most interest for me are Engineer, Guardian, and Mesmer. Engineer should come as no surprise since I played ranged classes in previous MMOs almost exclusively. However, the Guardian's various Virtues and variety of ways to support the party while controlling opponents is very appealing, as is the Mesmer's plethora of illusionary abilities. I also have character write-ups for each of these classes. I will simply have to pick one when Guild Wars 2 releases in just a few short weeks...

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Book Review: Bait Dog

Book Review: Bait Dog — Blue Ink Alchemy

Courtesy Terribleminds Bait Dog is one of the hardest reads I've ever experienced. Not because any of the language was obtuse, mind you: Chuck Wendig, as always, writes smoothly and conversationally. It also wasn't because there are any plot problems or discordant character moments. It was hard to read because it deals with the ugly and absolutely repulsive world of dog fighting. Atlanta Burns is a girl who gets shit done. We established this in Shotgun Gravy. Word has gotten around, and now other people want her to get shit done for them. A rich girl hires her to find out why her dog crawled home missing her claws and teeth. Atlanta isn't much of a dog person, but she needs the money so she takes the case. Her friend Shane seems to think this means she's given up on finding who killed their gay friend Chris, while evidence suggests the young man committed suicide. The more Atlanta kicks over the rocks hiding this depraved world of dogs teaching other dogs to kill, the more she finds animals far worse behind them, the sort of animals who would stage a suicide just to murder a boy who likes other boys. Gritty tales such as this are necessary in worlds where people would much rather invest in canned sequels and safe but mediocre remakes. People may think that sordid affairs and underhanded people of this nature only exist in certain places far from their homes. Stories like Bait Dog remind you that nothing could be further from the truth. Having lived near and moved through the areas of Pennsylvania described in the world of Atlanta Burns, the idea of dogs being tortured and murdered for profit so close to my home is absolutely chilling. And that's only part of the story. So many people say "it gets better" when it comes to bullying, to hatred, to racism and homophobia and every other type of evil, ignorant behavior that seethes in the hearts of human beings. But when you see a friend with an eye swollen shut because of bullies, or crying because of narrow-minded hate, or hanging from the end of a rope, it's hard to believe that it will ever get better. Atlanta has her own way of making things better. It usually involves a squirrel gun, a collapsible baton, or a big can of bear mace. It can be hard to remember that Atlanta's a teenager. She goes about her business with what seems like certainty to the outside observer. But from inside our head, we see how much she flies by the seat of her pants. We keenly feel her lack of confidence in herself, her concerns for her mother and her friends, and her absolute intolerance for the intolerant. In a world where polite society would have her working out a compromise, learning to forgive and forget, where compassion is expected to be levied against hatred, Atlanta answers hatred with hatred, blood for blood. So all-consuming is her thirst for basic, natural justice that she will risk everything, anything, to see it done. She's a pint-sized pubescent Punisher. Atlanta's stories, so far, work on very basic levels and play on raw nerves. This both makes it hard, at times, to read, but also worth the time and effort to read it all the way to the end. The story builds in a very organic and visceral way, pulling off plot twists and character revelations in a fantastic way. As difficult as some of the mental imagery can be to process, by the time you're in a hard-to-read section the tale's already got you by the balls, and you can't not finish reading it. If you like very human protagonists who kick ass, if you want to see true evil punished, if you love your pets, Bait Dog is for you. Know going in that it's going to hurt. Remember that the hurt will be worth it. Take a deep breath, and dive in.

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Blue Ink Alchemy