Return from the North

Return from the North — Blue Ink Alchemy

Actually, yes, we did get some snow. I was pretty prepared for my trip up to Canada for the holidays. Unfortunately, I have little prepared now that I'm back. And yesterdays 10 hour drive left me too exhausted to really put any effort into a blog post. Whups. So as I prepare for the new year's bash right around the corner, I will remind you all to be safe, have fun, and don't forget to celebrate that the world, in fact, did not end. See you in 2013!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Crank File: The Fall Movie Review

Crank File: The Fall Movie Review — Blue Ink Alchemy

Every now and again, life catches me off-guard. It's times like these I need to turn to contributions from you, the audience. If you've ever read the Opinions section of the local newspaper, or the comments of an article on the Huffington Post, you know that sometimes the readers contribute just as much as the established writers. Thus, I present to you the Crank File. Today's Crank File entry comes to us courtesy of Monica A. Flink. Enjoy!

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Which is better? Telling a good story with boring visuals, or telling a simplistic, boring story with beauty? For director Tarsem Singh, it is generally a question of telling a somewhat interesting story that has plot holes and little merit, and adding in Academy Award-worthy sets, costumes, and cinematography. Examples of this include the pretty but laughably written The Cell, the insipid and sometimes confusing but charmingly pretty Mirror Mirror, and the panned but visually stunning Immortals.
This entire movie looks like a perfume advertisement, maybe "Confusion" by Jennifer Lopez. Yet, with a track record of decent box office receipts and crappy reviews, Tarsem did manage to make something worth watching for both story and eye candy. The Fall is considered by critics and fans alike to be more than just something nice to look at. It combines storytelling and visuals in a way to that makes it the only Tarsem movie to get decent to mixed reviews, which was enough to encourage me to see it. The most attractive part of this movie is that none of the scenes are shot on sound stages or are digital backgrounds. There are no matte paintings or boats floating in fake pools. In an age where an actor can spend an entire movie acting in a green suit to become a CGI copy of him or herself, Tarsem presents a movie shot entirely on location. Locations which include: Italy, Turkey, Argentina, India, Fiji, South Africa, Namibia, Czech Republic, and France. All for one movie.
Even the movie poster looks like a piece of art you could find on some yuppie's wall. Our story opens on a movie set in 1915, the era of silent film. We discover that the main character, Roy, played here by a limpid eyed and bed-ridden Lee Pace, has been injured in the course of his job as a silent movie stuntman and may never walk again. We also meet a precocious child, Romanian-born Alexandria, who wanders around the hospital freely, arm in a cast, charming the staff and peering in at Roy, who caught a letter she had tossed from a window to her favorite nurse. Roy begins telling Alexandria about her namesake, Alexander the Great, until she is told to leave the ward by a grumpy patient. When she returns, Roy begins telling her another story, one about a masked bandit with a group of warriors, all trying to kill the same man. The story within a story is told through Alexandria's point of view, with people she knows as the six heroes, and this is where the movie truly shines.
Note how the guy who is supposed to be Charles Darwin is dressed like a fantasy-land pimp. Because evolution is that awesome. During the story about the bandit, we get the location changes, the beautiful sets, the vibrant costumes. It is almost impossible to describe how watching this film immerses you in the story, but you forget that you are watching a film that has any other plot to it. The only part about The Fall that ruins the ambiance that Tarsem creates is the jarring returns to the prosaic real story. While Roy is telling Alexandria his tale, we discover other parts of their lives that make them tragic characters. Young Alexandria broke her arm working in an orchard with the rest of her family after her father was murdered and their home burnt to the ground, leaving them with nothing. Roy's accident was not an accident at all, but a suicide attempt after his girlfriend left him for a famous actor on set. We even discover the story that has been captivating Alexandria is nothing more than Roy's attempt to gain her trust so that she might use her ability to walk through the hospital freely to get him morphine. The story culminates in Alexandria going to get Roy morphine for another attempt to take his own life, and falling from a precarious ledge, getting injured. Roy, sorry for what has happened but still suicidal, tries to finish the story for her tinted with his own depression, five of the six heroes dying before getting to the villain, the bandit himself getting beaten by the nefarious Odious in front of the only character Alexandria made up for the story on her own. As she sobs in her hospital bed, begging him to give the story a happy ending, Roy comes to realize that he not only has learned to care for her, but to care for himself again. He finishes the story with a victorious ending, and we see scenes of hope in the aftermath. Alexandria getting well and enjoying a movie with the other hospital patients. Roy bringing in silent movies for them to watch, including his first movie. And then scenes from other movies that he went on to make that inspired his story of the masked bandit, the two of them parting ways having learned courage and compassion on both ends.
They'll bake cookies and do each other's nails some other day. Today it's just about courage and compassion and not offing yourself. Truthfully, this is an okay movie, at best. What is the true draw is the fact that it just needs to be seen. To be experienced. Because movies are not made this way any more. Gone are the days of casts of thousands and shooting on location for technology that is cheaper and easier. But Tarsem's The Fall throws aesthetics in the face of that, and comes out with something truly spectacular. If you want to sit down and watch this, which I highly recommend, I suggest getting the Blu-Ray version, and the best television you can find. You will only enjoy it more.

---

Got something for the Crank File? Email me here.

---

Blue Ink Alchemy

Crank File: The Fall Movie Review

Crank File: The Fall Movie Review — Blue Ink Alchemy

Every now and again, life catches me off-guard. It's times like these I need to turn to contributions from you, the audience. If you've ever read the Opinions section of the local newspaper, or the comments of an article on the Huffington Post, you know that sometimes the readers contribute just as much as the established writers. Thus, I present to you the Crank File. Today's Crank File entry comes to us courtesy of Monica A. Flink. Enjoy!

---

Which is better? Telling a good story with boring visuals, or telling a simplistic, boring story with beauty? For director Tarsem Singh, it is generally a question of telling a somewhat interesting story that has plot holes and little merit, and adding in Academy Award-worthy sets, costumes, and cinematography. Examples of this include the pretty but laughably written The Cell, the insipid and sometimes confusing but charmingly pretty Mirror Mirror, and the panned but visually stunning Immortals.
This entire movie looks like a perfume advertisement, maybe "Confusion" by Jennifer Lopez. Yet, with a track record of decent box office receipts and crappy reviews, Tarsem did manage to make something worth watching for both story and eye candy. The Fall is considered by critics and fans alike to be more than just something nice to look at. It combines storytelling and visuals in a way to that makes it the only Tarsem movie to get decent to mixed reviews, which was enough to encourage me to see it. The most attractive part of this movie is that none of the scenes are shot on sound stages or are digital backgrounds. There are no matte paintings or boats floating in fake pools. In an age where an actor can spend an entire movie acting in a green suit to become a CGI copy of him or herself, Tarsem presents a movie shot entirely on location. Locations which include: Italy, Turkey, Argentina, India, Fiji, South Africa, Namibia, Czech Republic, and France. All for one movie.
Even the movie poster looks like a piece of art you could find on some yuppie's wall. Our story opens on a movie set in 1915, the era of silent film. We discover that the main character, Roy, played here by a limpid eyed and bed-ridden Lee Pace, has been injured in the course of his job as a silent movie stuntman and may never walk again. We also meet a precocious child, Romanian-born Alexandria, who wanders around the hospital freely, arm in a cast, charming the staff and peering in at Roy, who caught a letter she had tossed from a window to her favorite nurse. Roy begins telling Alexandria about her namesake, Alexander the Great, until she is told to leave the ward by a grumpy patient. When she returns, Roy begins telling her another story, one about a masked bandit with a group of warriors, all trying to kill the same man. The story within a story is told through Alexandria's point of view, with people she knows as the six heroes, and this is where the movie truly shines.
Note how the guy who is supposed to be Charles Darwin is dressed like a fantasy-land pimp. Because evolution is that awesome. During the story about the bandit, we get the location changes, the beautiful sets, the vibrant costumes. It is almost impossible to describe how watching this film immerses you in the story, but you forget that you are watching a film that has any other plot to it. The only part about The Fall that ruins the ambiance that Tarsem creates is the jarring returns to the prosaic real story. While Roy is telling Alexandria his tale, we discover other parts of their lives that make them tragic characters. Young Alexandria broke her arm working in an orchard with the rest of her family after her father was murdered and their home burnt to the ground, leaving them with nothing. Roy's accident was not an accident at all, but a suicide attempt after his girlfriend left him for a famous actor on set. We even discover the story that has been captivating Alexandria is nothing more than Roy's attempt to gain her trust so that she might use her ability to walk through the hospital freely to get him morphine. The story culminates in Alexandria going to get Roy morphine for another attempt to take his own life, and falling from a precarious ledge, getting injured. Roy, sorry for what has happened but still suicidal, tries to finish the story for her tinted with his own depression, five of the six heroes dying before getting to the villain, the bandit himself getting beaten by the nefarious Odious in front of the only character Alexandria made up for the story on her own. As she sobs in her hospital bed, begging him to give the story a happy ending, Roy comes to realize that he not only has learned to care for her, but to care for himself again. He finishes the story with a victorious ending, and we see scenes of hope in the aftermath. Alexandria getting well and enjoying a movie with the other hospital patients. Roy bringing in silent movies for them to watch, including his first movie. And then scenes from other movies that he went on to make that inspired his story of the masked bandit, the two of them parting ways having learned courage and compassion on both ends.
They'll bake cookies and do each other's nails some other day. Today it's just about courage and compassion and not offing yourself. Truthfully, this is an okay movie, at best. What is the true draw is the fact that it just needs to be seen. To be experienced. Because movies are not made this way any more. Gone are the days of casts of thousands and shooting on location for technology that is cheaper and easier. But Tarsem's The Fall throws aesthetics in the face of that, and comes out with something truly spectacular. If you want to sit down and watch this, which I highly recommend, I suggest getting the Blu-Ray version, and the best television you can find. You will only enjoy it more.

---

Got something for the Crank File? Email me here.

---

Blue Ink Alchemy

From The Vault: Little Changes

From The Vault: Little Changes — Blue Ink Alchemy

Slight modification for this post, but it's still appropriate. I'm still on vacation, so enjoy this post from a couple years ago.

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Think of a favorite story of yours, or a beloved character. Chances are there are things about that story or character you take for granted. Here are some examples: Superman fights for truth, justice and the American way. Aragorn is proud of his heritage and wishes to reclaim his throne. Buffy learns of her destiny as a Slayer while she's a cheerleader in high school. Tyr's hand is devoured by a dire wolf named Fenrir. Change one thing about any of those stories, and everything changes. Warren Ellis changed one thing about Superman. If his spaceship had crashed on Earth twelve hours earlier, it would have landed in Sibera, not Kansas. Hence, Red Son, one of the most audacious and comprehensive Elseworlds stories I've ever read. No aspect of the DC Universe is unaffected by this one matter of timing, from Kal-El's relationship with Diana of the Amazons to Hal Jordan's origin as a Green Lantern. Superman becomes a heroic symbol of Communist Russian under Stalin, all because of the Earth's rotation. Aragorn changed in Peter Jackson's films. Instead of reforging Narsil the red-hot second he reaches Rivendell in his eighty-sixth year, Aragorn shrinks from his destiny. He fears the weakness of men, unconvinced that the blood of Numenor makes him any different from the weak and corrupt people he's met and will meet. While some die-hard fans of Tolkien's works threw back their heads and howled at this change (among others), I found this made his character deeper, more realistic and much more interesting and appealing. How many of us are that confident in our own abilities, our own destinies? How many of us entertain doubts about our futures and our capacity to meet the challenges awaiting us? Aragorn, despite his long lifespan and epic destiny, seems much more like us, and thus we are drawn deeper into his story and that of the Fellowship. Imagine if Buffy found out she was a Slayer at a younger age. Let's say she's six years old, her daddy's attacked by a vampire at an amusement park and she stakes it with a popsicle stick. Just pure instinct: she jumps onto the monster and drives the wood home through sheer panic. How would her story change? How shallow would she really be with blood on her hands at such a young age? Or go the other direction. Buffy's in her twenties, married to some pretty jerk who has no time for her, so she fills her days shopping and gossiping. It could be like any episode of Sex & the City until the vampires get involved. How reluctant would she be to respond to the call? What if her husband tried to turn things around given her drastic change in lifestyle, only to discover she's had an affair with Angel? Think about it. I mentioned Tyr because of The Drifter's Hand, obviously. It was more a change of genre than a change of events, but it was still an interesting exercise. I plan other changes, as well, for most of the works I have on various burners. The downside is, more rewriting is required. But if the end result works better, it will be worth it. What stories would you change, if you could?

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Blue Ink Alchemy

From The Vault: This Is Gonna Suck

From The Vault: This Is Gonna Suck — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm on vacation! While I'm away, here's a bit of writing advice from last year. I think it still applies, and part of me believe it always will.

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Artists come in all shapes and sizes. Some paint, some create music, others bring out the statues held captive by blocks of stone and still others start with blank pages to create new worlds and memorable characters. But regardless of the art involved, all artists need to face an unfortunate and ugly truth. Not everything an artist creates is going to be good. In fact, a lot of it will struggle to merely be mediocre. It isn't an easy thing to admit to oneself. I know of some people who perform and create without any real talent or passion, and the lack of commitment shows. Not only are such charlatans unwilling to practice or improve, they're all but immune to criticism. To even intimate that they are performing at a less than exceptional level is tantamount to blasphemy in their minds. They'll never, ever look at their work from a point of view outside of their own and realize the flaws in it, be they minute or monstrous. To be honest, I feel sorrier for them than I do the other extreme. We are our own worst critics, and there are those who focus on their flaws and shortcomings entirely too much. All they see in their art is the mistakes they make. They don't see the forest, or even necessarily the trees, just a tiny bit of bird crap on a single leaf; next thing you know they're burning the forest down because "it's all shit." They may have talent and passion, and they might be aware of how practice would improve their art, but they lack the motivation because of how they see everything they create. It's a difficult obstacle to overcome. To be successful, I feel an artist should be somewhere in the middle. Hold on to what you do that's good, and work your way past the rest. Know in your heart and your mind that you do good work, but don't boast about it even when people tell you how good it is. Find the right balance between ego and humility. And know that stuff you do may very well suck. I've heard it said that every artist has 10,000 bad drawings in them; you just have to get past those. I'd venture to say most writers have at least ten times that many bad words they need to write before things start getting good. And even then, it might not get you anywhere. Remember that metaphor for getting a novel finished, the one where you put a bucket on your head and slam it against a brick wall until either you or the wall fall over? Some writers go through multiple buckets because they're just that stubborn. I think I'm on my third. The important thing is not to give up. Know some stuff you write will suck. Accept that, and write through it. Pull out the old Lucas-flavored line of "I'll fix it in post." Write the stuff that sucks, then peel away the sucky stuff until all that's left is good stuff. And if you can't kick your ass into gear to do it, find someone else to do it for you. I'll kick your ass, friends, if you kick mine.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Christmas Wishes

Christmas Wishes — Blue Ink Alchemy

Whatever walk of faith you might be on (if any) Whatever wish you have for this season (if any) No matter where you go Or who you are with I pray for you to be happy I pray for you to be at peace I pray for you to know great love And I pray for you to give love in return. Merry Christmas!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Christmas Wishes

Christmas Wishes — Blue Ink Alchemy

Whatever walk of faith you might be on (if any) Whatever wish you have for this season (if any) No matter where you go Or who you are with I pray for you to be happy I pray for you to be at peace I pray for you to know great love And I pray for you to give love in return. Merry Christmas!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Crank File: Ponies Are Magic

Crank File: Ponies Are Magic — Blue Ink Alchemy

Every now and again, life catches me off-guard. It's times like these I need to turn to contributions from you, the audience. If you've ever read the Opinions section of the local newspaper, or the comments of an article on the Huffington Post, you know that sometimes the readers contribute just as much as the established writers. Thus, I present to you the Crank File. Today's Crank File entry comes to us courtesy of Monica A. Flink. Enjoy!

---

There is nothing better than when something as simple as a children's television show rises above and beyond the target of just entertaining and educating children. With the combination of excellent writing and good moral values that manage to not be preachy, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic has not only become a wildly popular children's show, but has had cross-demographic success with adults, male and female, as well. Adults watch this show as much as children, and have become major fans of it, inspiring cosplay costumes, remixes, and Internet memes that have made it a huge success.
And I can name them all, dork that I am. It seems almost too simple to explain why MLP has gotten so popular in the three seasons it has run. But then again, like most media, there can be many reasons, depending on who is considering the show and what they like about it. Fortunately for me, this is my article, and this is what I enjoy most about MLP and why it is magical for me.

1. The Characters

The characters of MLP are really what sells this show. While they may be archetypes in one way or another (the bookworm, the tomboy, the girly girl), each character is also real. They have flaws and character traits that remind us of ourselves. We can connect with them because sometimes we too forget to ask for help, or get impatient with our families, or have a fear that seems impossible to face. At times, we can see so much of ourselves in the characters that we swear show creator Lauren Faust has a camera in our homes.
There's something here for everyone. The smart ones, the girly ones, the ones that bounce around with pink curls, throwing impromptu parties for the hell of it.

2. The Music

Everyone likes a good song. And MLP seems to have them in moderation, which is far more preferable to having them in every single episode. The show can even poke fun at its own musicality, one episode having a character pointing out that a song sung by one of the ponies was the worst song he had ever heard. But the songs (the good ones anyway) are catchy and short, and may achieve ear worm status if you watch the episode more than once. They are also relevant, and not there just to have a musical interlude.

3. The Writing

Writing a plausible, charming children's show is so much harder than anyone thinks it should be. It can too easily become cloyingly sweet, or irritating, or embarrassingly cheesy. MLP straddles the line between okay for children and entertaining for adults with pride and grace, giving us all some dry humor, wit, and jokes that even grown ups can enjoy. Even the sight gags and the physical comedy remains in the realm of funny and stays out of the dangerous "too-Stooges" style of slapstick. The writers also work hard to preserve continuity and that same spirit of wonder and charm that keeps audiences coming back.

4. The Setting

Whether it is in the little town of Ponyville or the grand central city of Canterlot, the setting of MLP is something to be considered as well. The designers of the show made a technicolor fantasy world that is reminiscent of Dorothy first stepping into Oz, and maintains that sense of being in another world. The writing meticulously makes certain to only retain references to hooves instead of hands, "everypony" or "anypony" instead of everyone or anyone, and makes it possible so that we do not even wonder how they do things like hold pens or ride bikes. It just seems so natural.
Yep, just a normal day in Ponyville. Where's Jean-Luc Picard when you need him?

5. The Joy

In a world where we have the worst of worst things to see every day in the news on television and online and in the newspaper, MLP gives us a world where everything is summed up at the end of twenty minutes of action. There is always a happy ending, and there is never an occasion to mourn for more than a little bit. Ponies find love, friends, learn lessons, and become better people who all care about each other without asking for anything in return. Even the most bitter of us can appreciate a world where nobody is cynical to the point of coldness, where even the chilliest disposition can be won over with the magic of friendship.

6. The Nostalgia

One of the main reasons adults even sat down to watch this show was for the nostalgia. Children of the 1980's are reaching their late twenties and early thirties, and this show can bring back memories of a simpler time. A time without worrying about taxes and the economy, without the day to day grind of a job. The show brings back the feeling of having nothing to do on a Saturday morning but get your own bowl of cereal so you did not bother Mom and Dad, who worked just as hard then as you do now. Familiar faces in new stories just give that warm feeling inside of something that had been forgotten but not completely lost behind memories of first dates and when the next project for work is due.
I had about ten trillion of these lying around, a minefield of pink pony agony to bare feet. If I had a choice of watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic on television, or one of the processed, homogenized re-make movies that are so popular right now, without a doubt I would choose MLP. The story, the style, the complete package make this an original show that still has a flavor of nostalgia to it that keeps adults coming back as well as children.

---

Got something for the Crank File? Email me here.

---

Blue Ink Alchemy

Crank File: Ponies Are Magic

Crank File: Ponies Are Magic — Blue Ink Alchemy

Every now and again, life catches me off-guard. It's times like these I need to turn to contributions from you, the audience. If you've ever read the Opinions section of the local newspaper, or the comments of an article on the Huffington Post, you know that sometimes the readers contribute just as much as the established writers. Thus, I present to you the Crank File. Today's Crank File entry comes to us courtesy of Monica A. Flink. Enjoy!

---

There is nothing better than when something as simple as a children's television show rises above and beyond the target of just entertaining and educating children. With the combination of excellent writing and good moral values that manage to not be preachy, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic has not only become a wildly popular children's show, but has had cross-demographic success with adults, male and female, as well. Adults watch this show as much as children, and have become major fans of it, inspiring cosplay costumes, remixes, and Internet memes that have made it a huge success.
And I can name them all, dork that I am. It seems almost too simple to explain why MLP has gotten so popular in the three seasons it has run. But then again, like most media, there can be many reasons, depending on who is considering the show and what they like about it. Fortunately for me, this is my article, and this is what I enjoy most about MLP and why it is magical for me.

1. The Characters

The characters of MLP are really what sells this show. While they may be archetypes in one way or another (the bookworm, the tomboy, the girly girl), each character is also real. They have flaws and character traits that remind us of ourselves. We can connect with them because sometimes we too forget to ask for help, or get impatient with our families, or have a fear that seems impossible to face. At times, we can see so much of ourselves in the characters that we swear show creator Lauren Faust has a camera in our homes.
There's something here for everyone. The smart ones, the girly ones, the ones that bounce around with pink curls, throwing impromptu parties for the hell of it.

2. The Music

Everyone likes a good song. And MLP seems to have them in moderation, which is far more preferable to having them in every single episode. The show can even poke fun at its own musicality, one episode having a character pointing out that a song sung by one of the ponies was the worst song he had ever heard. But the songs (the good ones anyway) are catchy and short, and may achieve ear worm status if you watch the episode more than once. They are also relevant, and not there just to have a musical interlude.

3. The Writing

Writing a plausible, charming children's show is so much harder than anyone thinks it should be. It can too easily become cloyingly sweet, or irritating, or embarrassingly cheesy. MLP straddles the line between okay for children and entertaining for adults with pride and grace, giving us all some dry humor, wit, and jokes that even grown ups can enjoy. Even the sight gags and the physical comedy remains in the realm of funny and stays out of the dangerous "too-Stooges" style of slapstick. The writers also work hard to preserve continuity and that same spirit of wonder and charm that keeps audiences coming back.

4. The Setting

Whether it is in the little town of Ponyville or the grand central city of Canterlot, the setting of MLP is something to be considered as well. The designers of the show made a technicolor fantasy world that is reminiscent of Dorothy first stepping into Oz, and maintains that sense of being in another world. The writing meticulously makes certain to only retain references to hooves instead of hands, "everypony" or "anypony" instead of everyone or anyone, and makes it possible so that we do not even wonder how they do things like hold pens or ride bikes. It just seems so natural.
Yep, just a normal day in Ponyville. Where's Jean-Luc Picard when you need him?

5. The Joy

In a world where we have the worst of worst things to see every day in the news on television and online and in the newspaper, MLP gives us a world where everything is summed up at the end of twenty minutes of action. There is always a happy ending, and there is never an occasion to mourn for more than a little bit. Ponies find love, friends, learn lessons, and become better people who all care about each other without asking for anything in return. Even the most bitter of us can appreciate a world where nobody is cynical to the point of coldness, where even the chilliest disposition can be won over with the magic of friendship.

6. The Nostalgia

One of the main reasons adults even sat down to watch this show was for the nostalgia. Children of the 1980's are reaching their late twenties and early thirties, and this show can bring back memories of a simpler time. A time without worrying about taxes and the economy, without the day to day grind of a job. The show brings back the feeling of having nothing to do on a Saturday morning but get your own bowl of cereal so you did not bother Mom and Dad, who worked just as hard then as you do now. Familiar faces in new stories just give that warm feeling inside of something that had been forgotten but not completely lost behind memories of first dates and when the next project for work is due.
I had about ten trillion of these lying around, a minefield of pink pony agony to bare feet. If I had a choice of watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic on television, or one of the processed, homogenized re-make movies that are so popular right now, without a doubt I would choose MLP. The story, the style, the complete package make this an original show that still has a flavor of nostalgia to it that keeps adults coming back as well as children.

---

Got something for the Crank File? Email me here.

---

Blue Ink Alchemy

Crank File: Ponies Are Magic

Crank File: Ponies Are Magic — Blue Ink Alchemy

Every now and again, life catches me off-guard. It's times like these I need to turn to contributions from you, the audience. If you've ever read the Opinions section of the local newspaper, or the comments of an article on the Huffington Post, you know that sometimes the readers contribute just as much as the established writers. Thus, I present to you the Crank File. Today's Crank File entry comes to us courtesy of Monica A. Flink. Enjoy!

---

There is nothing better than when something as simple as a children's television show rises above and beyond the target of just entertaining and educating children. With the combination of excellent writing and good moral values that manage to not be preachy, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic has not only become a wildly popular children's show, but has had cross-demographic success with adults, male and female, as well. Adults watch this show as much as children, and have become major fans of it, inspiring cosplay costumes, remixes, and Internet memes that have made it a huge success.
And I can name them all, dork that I am. It seems almost too simple to explain why MLP has gotten so popular in the three seasons it has run. But then again, like most media, there can be many reasons, depending on who is considering the show and what they like about it. Fortunately for me, this is my article, and this is what I enjoy most about MLP and why it is magical for me.

1. The Characters

The characters of MLP are really what sells this show. While they may be archetypes in one way or another (the bookworm, the tomboy, the girly girl), each character is also real. They have flaws and character traits that remind us of ourselves. We can connect with them because sometimes we too forget to ask for help, or get impatient with our families, or have a fear that seems impossible to face. At times, we can see so much of ourselves in the characters that we swear show creator Lauren Faust has a camera in our homes.
There's something here for everyone. The smart ones, the girly ones, the ones that bounce around with pink curls, throwing impromptu parties for the hell of it.

2. The Music

Everyone likes a good song. And MLP seems to have them in moderation, which is far more preferable to having them in every single episode. The show can even poke fun at its own musicality, one episode having a character pointing out that a song sung by one of the ponies was the worst song he had ever heard. But the songs (the good ones anyway) are catchy and short, and may achieve ear worm status if you watch the episode more than once. They are also relevant, and not there just to have a musical interlude.

3. The Writing

Writing a plausible, charming children's show is so much harder than anyone thinks it should be. It can too easily become cloyingly sweet, or irritating, or embarrassingly cheesy. MLP straddles the line between okay for children and entertaining for adults with pride and grace, giving us all some dry humor, wit, and jokes that even grown ups can enjoy. Even the sight gags and the physical comedy remains in the realm of funny and stays out of the dangerous "too-Stooges" style of slapstick. The writers also work hard to preserve continuity and that same spirit of wonder and charm that keeps audiences coming back.

4. The Setting

Whether it is in the little town of Ponyville or the grand central city of Canterlot, the setting of MLP is something to be considered as well. The designers of the show made a technicolor fantasy world that is reminiscent of Dorothy first stepping into Oz, and maintains that sense of being in another world. The writing meticulously makes certain to only retain references to hooves instead of hands, "everypony" or "anypony" instead of everyone or anyone, and makes it possible so that we do not even wonder how they do things like hold pens or ride bikes. It just seems so natural.
Yep, just a normal day in Ponyville. Where's Jean-Luc Picard when you need him?

5. The Joy

In a world where we have the worst of worst things to see every day in the news on television and online and in the newspaper, MLP gives us a world where everything is summed up at the end of twenty minutes of action. There is always a happy ending, and there is never an occasion to mourn for more than a little bit. Ponies find love, friends, learn lessons, and become better people who all care about each other without asking for anything in return. Even the most bitter of us can appreciate a world where nobody is cynical to the point of coldness, where even the chilliest disposition can be won over with the magic of friendship.

6. The Nostalgia

One of the main reasons adults even sat down to watch this show was for the nostalgia. Children of the 1980's are reaching their late twenties and early thirties, and this show can bring back memories of a simpler time. A time without worrying about taxes and the economy, without the day to day grind of a job. The show brings back the feeling of having nothing to do on a Saturday morning but get your own bowl of cereal so you did not bother Mom and Dad, who worked just as hard then as you do now. Familiar faces in new stories just give that warm feeling inside of something that had been forgotten but not completely lost behind memories of first dates and when the next project for work is due.
I had about ten trillion of these lying around, a minefield of pink pony agony to bare feet. If I had a choice of watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic on television, or one of the processed, homogenized re-make movies that are so popular right now, without a doubt I would choose MLP. The story, the style, the complete package make this an original show that still has a flavor of nostalgia to it that keeps adults coming back as well as children.

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Got something for the Crank File? Email me here.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Off To The North

Off To The North — Blue Ink Alchemy

No, not THAT North. With some incoming weather threatening to dump snow on a great deal of the eastern seaboard, the timetable of my vacation has moved up somewhat. I am leaving this morning for Canada, to spend the holidays with my in-laws. Hopefully this time I won't need the help of a tow truck to get there! During the week I'm away I have some guest posts lined up and a couple gems plucked from the vault. I hope you all enjoy, and have a safe and merry holiday!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Original(ish) Sci-Fi Rises

Original(ish) Sci-Fi Rises — Blue Ink Alchemy

People have talked a lot about a lack of original ideas in Hollywood. When we went to see The Hobbit, some douche behind us commented that 'there aren't any original movies anymore'. I'd like to cite just two examples of how wrong that sentiment is. One of them is Oblivion. "Now wait," you might be saying, "isn't Oblivion based on a graphic novel and therefore not an original movie idea?" Normally, you might be right, but since the director of the film is also the author of the graphic novel, I'd say this qualifies. Post-apocalyptic sci-fi isn't anything new, but the concept of this one has a unique feel to it: When Earth is invaded, mankind apparently has its act together enough to evacuate. Jack Harper is one of those left behind, grabbing what resources he can and repairing the drones that defeated the invaders but left the planet a bit scorched. Not all is as it seems, however, as Jack discovers humans on the planet's surface... What fascinates me about Oblivion is its acknowledgement that, even in the wake of sweeping disaster, life goes on. The world doesn't simply wink out of existence. There is an aftermath to be dealt with. There's a lot of lonely desolation in the trailer, juxtaposed with the shiny technology the actors are using, and the austerity of the visuals feels very striking. Plus, the author of the graphic novel and director of this film also directed Tron: Legacy, and other critics be damned, I liked Tron: Legacy. The other film I'm very much looking forward to that exemplifies original sci-fi is Pacific Rim. Now, again, there's clearly a heavy influence on the project, but rather than one source, Pacific Rim is more inspired by a genre than a single work, and that genre is the daikaiju films that usually feature Godzilla or Gamera. Instead of being post-apocalypse, we witness the start of the apocalypse as giant interdimensional monsters rise from the depths of the sea to wreck devastation upon mankind. To fight them, we build giant robots called Jaegers that match them in size & stature, and pilots use neural links to control the Jaegers from afar. Things are apparently getting worse, though, as the monsters are barely slowed down by the Jaegers and it seems to be a losing battle... This is a notion that feels truly international. Daikaiju are mostly Japanese, yet here we have an American film with an extremely similar feel with a multi-racial cast directed by Mexican geek favorite Guillermo del Toro. Given his success with the Hellboy films (both of which I really like) and Pan's Labyrinth (which made me weep like a child but in a good way), I'd trust him with pretty much anything, but this feels so uniquely his idea it's staggering. I'm really curious to see what he does here. Oh, and is that Ellen McLain voicing the Jaeger AI? Definitely count me in, even if they don't turn evil or constantly berate the humans involved. What movies in 2013 are you looking forward to? And what do you think of the sentiment that Hollywood has no original ideas?

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Blue Ink Alchemy

From the Vault: Why I Write

From the Vault: Why I Write — Blue Ink Alchemy

I know a couple people on the lookout for writing advice, and in lieu of coming up with anything new and grasping for profound language, I'm just going to tell them (and remind myself) of why I write. This was originally posted two years ago. Enjoy!

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If you ask a writer for advice, quite a few of them will simply tell you to read. I'm reading the second novel in A Song of Ice and Fire and I may start the new year with a fresh read of Lord of the Rings. I also read articles on Fark and the Escapist. I know I've said it's important for writers to pitch and keep pitching, and as much as I have ideas for articles, I don't know if I have just the right mix of time and acumen to give the Escapist exactly what they're looking for. I write fiction. It's what I've wanted to do since I was young. As a writer, reading also is a means for us to recharge. After A Clash of Kings I plan on reading The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress for the first time. Not only am I a fan of Heinlein, he's the reason I started writing fiction in the first place and decided it was what would drive me in life. I've written on Heinlein several times, and even reviewed the one film adaptation of Starship Troopers. But the book that affected me the most deeply was The Cat Who Walks Through Walls. I had a copy of my fathers' that I read a few times, and I wish I knew where it was. That's a book that needs to be read again. For the most part, it's part hard science-fiction, part rumination on the nature of myth. As the story goes on, the sci-fi bits fade into the background as the ruminations grow. The concept of every myth being true, the erasure of characters and the part those characters play even when they're aware of being part of a myth grabbed hold of my twelve-year-old brain and didn't let go. But it was this, at the very end, that completely overwhelmed me.

"Who was writing our story? Was he going to let us live? Anyone who would kill a baby kitten is cruel, mean cruel. Whoever you are, I hate you. I despise you!"

Now, a lot of the novel is admittedly forgettable. I want to read it again to see if that's because I was young and had even less retention than I do now, or if there's just a lot of filler in there. But the concept, the idea that worlds created by the writer of fiction are, in some way shape or form, real - that stuck with me. I put the book down and knew, on a deep level, I wanted to write stories like that for the rest of my life. I've lost sight of that goal, for varying reasons to varying degrees, multiple times over the last two decades. It's been there, in the back of my mind, sometimes growling at my ignoring it and sometimes screaming at me to get my shit together. I'm at a point where I can't not have a day job, but I've wasted enough time not writing. I need to work a steady job to keep myself and my family fed, housed and clothed, but I also need to keep writing. Hence the Free Fiction, the blogging and the stubborn refusal to return to a car-based commute. I can't write and drive at the same time. I write to create these new worlds and populate them with characters that other people can understand, relate to and maybe even sympathize with. I write to not necessarily change lives but to provide a means of escape. I write because, in the end, it makes me come alive like nothing else ever has. When I'm creating stories, I'm in a mental place that can be difficult for me to reach under other circumstances. It's a place where my energy is being focused in a way that both invigorates and calms me. And it's possible that the results of this creativity will be something other people can enjoy, something that helps them forget about their troubles and lay their burdens down, if just for a little while. I know I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said before, but it bears repeating, if only as a reminder to myself.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Back On Track

Writer Report: Back On Track — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm still not writing as much as I would like in a sitting, but I'm writing more and it's consistent in that it's happening every day, now. Cold Streets is back on the front burner and bubbling away nicely. I know I will have to go back and do a bunch of editing and rewriting. But I need to at least get the concepts, scenes, and beats out of my head and on to paper before I can properly mess around with them. And there's only one way to do that! In the hopes of keeping people interested in my work and with an eye towards better promotion, I'm happy to announce the following: for the rest of 2012, until January 2 2013, Cold Iron is on sale at Amazon for $0.99. If you haven't already, you can get it for your Kindle right here. If you have already downloaded and read Cold Iron, tell a friend, leave a review, send me a comment, something along those lines. I've gone back and forth about how to approach the former fantasy novel, and whether or not it will be a trilogy. Looking over the story, the complexities, and the things I want to discuss through and with the characters, I think that yes, breaking it up is probably the way to go. It is my hope that, as winter goes on, I can put together more notes, form more thoughts coherently, and finally take the red pen, scalpel, darling-slaying shotgun, and all-important flamethrower to my original manuscript to craft the first novel of the Godslayer trilogy. Last but not least, I still believe that science fiction stories do not need to be constrained to a single type within their own narratives. There's no reason a good character-driven story can't begin life as one thing and slowly become another. The Fellowship of the Ring has a whimsical, homey start in the Shire, but by the end, darkness and peril are all around and it's hard to imagine how things can get worse. It is that grounding in whimsy that makes the end, and the next two books, so powerful and resonant. It has been done in fantasy many times; why not in science fiction? I'm not comparing myself to Tolkien by any means, I just think that it might be an experiment worth trying.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

Movie Review: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey — Blue Ink Alchemy

The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien, is a far more filmable piece of work than his larger work, The Lord of the Rings. It has a more simple narrative, its plot is contained to one volume, and its themes remain focused on the character of Bilbo Baggins and how he deals with his adventures. Yet, according to interviews and as evidenced in works such as the Unfinished Tales and the Silmarillion, Tolkien knew there was more going on than a hobbit coming out of his hole, and the intent was to embellish this work. Director Peter Jackson has taken it upon himself to do just that, adapting the story into three films, the first of which is sub-titled An Unexpected Journey. Bilbo Baggins is a hobbit. He is concerned with remaining a respected member of his community and not inviting any sort of trouble to his doorstep. Unfortunately for him, the wizard Gandalf has the exact opposite in mind. Thirteen dwarves show up at Bilbo's house, and while they are certainly capable of troublemaking, they're also personable and companionable. The leader of the company, Thorin Oakenshield, is a dwarf prince bent on reclaiming his homeland from the evil dragon Smaug, and to do that he needs the help of someone who can sneak into the dragon's lair undetected. Gandalf has chosen Bilbo for this task, in spite of Thorin's reservations and Bilbo's own reluctance. The hobbit does come around to the idea of at least leaving his home - and a good thing too, otherwise we'd have no story. The term 'reluctant hero' has never been more apt than in describing Bilbo Baggins. Neither a great warrior nor unflinchingly brave, there's something very charming and telling about the hobbit in a very fashionable jacket and waistcoat following the heavily armed and armored company of dwarves. And when trouble does find Bilbo, he does not immediately seek a violent solution for the problem at hand; more often than not, it's his wits and fast talking that saves him. It means a lot, in this day and age, to see a protagonist who does what he can to get himself out of trouble without violence.
Does the contract also protect the dwarves from liability related to addiction to magic rings? This isn't to say that The Hobbit is devoid of action. In fact, many of the scenes from the book have been embellished with Jackson's trademark adeptness with epic action set pieces. We even get flashbacks to epic battles of the past. The tale tends to feel even more fantastical than The Lord of the Rings, focused as we are on non-human races and characters. And while accusations have been leveled at the film calling it too long or too padded, the moments of expanded lore and the occasional cameo are actually welcome moments to catch one's breath between all of the fighting and survival. In spite of the film's length, it's paced quite reasonably and does not overstay its welcome. Martin Freeman absolutely nails the affect of a fussy, emotionally exasperated hobbit far out of his depth. Richard Armitage brings a sort of haunted nobility to Thorin Oakenshield, who is clearly cut from a different cloth than most of the other dwarves. Boisterous and personable as they are, it can be difficult to keep track of all of them. Sir Ian McKellan makes a welcome return as Gandalf the Grey, and I was very pleased with the expanded role given to Radagast the Brown, played by Sylvester McCoy. And rather than being part of a monolithic evil as they were in Lord of the Rings, the foes faced by the company vary wildly from three culinary connoisseur trolls to an orc with a grudge against Thorin. All of this makes for great storytelling and a fine film just in time for the holiday season.
"You did remember the Old Toby, didn't you, Bilbo? We can'd do this without the proper pipeweed." Stuff I Liked: The White Council. The antics of the dwarves. The pacing of the story and the ways in which it kept moving without feeling rushed. The detail given to each of the dwarves even if they were hard to keep track of. The new look of the wargs. Stuff I Didn't Like: After two and a half hours, the 3D glasses really started to hurt. Stuff I Loved: Dwarven song. The connection between Gandalf and Galadriel. Radagast the Brown. Bilbo's affectations and tics. The perfect ominous atmosphere of Bilbo encountering Gollum in his cave. Just about everything related to Erebor. The scene with the trolls. The way Bilbo faces his problems - he's usually pretty scared, but he steps up anyway, and that's what makes him heroic. Bottom Line: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey not only works excellently as a tale in and of itself, but bodes quite well for the next two films to come. It is a welcome return to Middle-Earth, with the same high quality in performances and production as Jackson's previous fantasy trilogy. It is clearly a labor of love for everyone involved, and you can lay any suspicion of it being a blatant cash-grab to rest. It is definitely worth your time to go and see.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: The War On Christmas

Flash Fiction: The War On Christmas — Blue Ink Alchemy

Art by ~boudicca Chuck wanted a war on Christmas. Be careful what you wish for.

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They come, on both sides, from tales of old. From the frozen wastes yet untouched by man, from crevasses and shadows and hidden places too fearsome for even the most brave and the most crazed, from realms and holes and lairs unseen even by devices in the sky, the enemy issues forth. It is almost always Jötnar, either one or a cadre, who lead, mustering up old hatreds and stoking the fires of bloodlust within the foe. Manticores and chimera and goblins and trolls, they all pour onto the glaciers and frozen seas and march on the stronghold. The defenders come when the horns sound, on or about the Solstice. From kingdoms deep in the earth and forgotten by man come the dwarves that provide the raw materials for the workshops. Elves large and small rouse from their berths and leave their toy-making behind, taking up sword and bow and shield and spear. Spirits of the fae and what few treefolk remain find their way there too, and the skies fill with pegasi and griffons and great birds of previous ages. It is a host meant to match that sent by the enemy, and most years, the numbers are evenly matched. This year is not one of those years. The Jötuun who leads is a fearsome creature, towering over even the tallest and fairest of the elves. Such is his ambition and ability that twice the host of previous years has been summoned. Despite being denied what he truly seeks - the All-Father and his kin have long since left for Valhalla to await the final days - he will sate his hunger for despair and dismemberment upon those arrayed against him on the frozen plains he'd claim for his own. The first blow he lands cracks like thunder preceding a mighty storm, and with that one strike, the battle is joined. Even when outnumbered, the host of defenders make the enemy pay dearly for every inch of ground. The fearsome fervor of dwarf warriors bites into goblins numerous beyond counting. Ancient spirits of the forests that pass for many years as trees wrestle with giants of frost. Pegasus and manticore swoop, dive, and strike, claws leaving ribbons of blood while hooves shatter bone. Beneath the icy plain, kraken and shark vie for supremacy in the silent, inky blackness of the crushing depths. He emerges for two reasons. One is that even as the battle rages, he has preparations to make. The sleigh must be filled. The sack must contain every gift. There must be sufficient coal available. The reindeer need to be fed, and all of this is done in spite of the fighting, for he will not forsake the children. Not on this night, not ever. What takes him away from his last-minute work is the other reason: if he senses a true challenge on the field, then and only then does he emerge from his workshop. His very presence demands reverence from both sides. The defenders give him respect and even love, while the invaders react with fear. The lines of battle part to make way for him. Mail of the finest metal gleams beneath his red coat. No helm adorns his plume of snow-white hair, no gorget beneath the curls of his beard. In his right hand he carries a blade, long and shimmering in the lights of the north, forged in a forgotten age. In his left is a mace blacker than the water in the depths beneath the ice, one that nearly resembles a weapon of the enemy, for he has always been a capricious and merry old soul, loyal only to his devotion to the joy of children. He walks with purpose, without hesitation, until he faces the leader of the enemy host. He stands until the Jötuun turns to acknowledge him, then he taps the flat of his blade to the side of his nose, twice, his way of saluting his foe. When he speaks, his voice is deep, and heard by every ear on the field. "Someone's been particularly naughty this year. Ho, ho, ho." Some Jötnar banter with Kringle, others offer terms of surrender. But this year, the giant attacks immediately. Claus, for his part, seems to never be terribly surprised by the enemy's decision, and this year his feet seem particularly nimble. The Jötuun's axe is a fearsome thing that has cleaved limbs and heads both in this battle, yet Kringle ducks and dodges, giving it only the shallowest of gashes in his skin and coat. It glances off of his mail and bites his rosy cheeks, but never gives the Jötuun satisfaction. When Claus finally strikes, he does so with his blade thrusting at the knees of his enemy. Like a serpent, it darts in and out, piercing darkened frost giant flesh. The Jötuun must turn to keep up with Kringle, opening his own wounds up even further, but the giant is heedless of the pain, fixed entirely on making Claus bleed. When the moment is right, Kringle brings down his mace on the right kneecap of the giant, then makes a long slash with his blade, and finally swings the black hammer up between the Jötuun's thighs. The giant topples, howling in agony. Claus is swift, merciful in comparison to many, and plunges his sword into the giant's heart while swinging his mace down into his enemy's head. So utter is this defeat and so mighty the blows that the ice cracks, threatening all who stand upon it. Kringle looks up from his work, smiling, bloodied by the fight but unbowed. "Now, let's see. Ho, ho, ho. Who else is on the Naughty list?" The enemy host quits the field promptly at that point. A mighty cheer goes up from the elves and fae, the dwarves and the spirits allied with the defenders. There will be feasting and drinking in the hall tonight, before Kringle takes his crucial ride. Thanks to him, the war is over. Until next year.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: The War On Christmas

Flash Fiction: The War On Christmas — Blue Ink Alchemy

Art by ~boudicca Chuck wanted a war on Christmas. Be careful what you wish for.

---

They come, on both sides, from tales of old. From the frozen wastes yet untouched by man, from crevasses and shadows and hidden places too fearsome for even the most brave and the most crazed, from realms and holes and lairs unseen even by devices in the sky, the enemy issues forth. It is almost always Jötnar, either one or a cadre, who lead, mustering up old hatreds and stoking the fires of bloodlust within the foe. Manticores and chimera and goblins and trolls, they all pour onto the glaciers and frozen seas and march on the stronghold. The defenders come when the horns sound, on or about the Solstice. From kingdoms deep in the earth and forgotten by man come the dwarves that provide the raw materials for the workshops. Elves large and small rouse from their berths and leave their toy-making behind, taking up sword and bow and shield and spear. Spirits of the fae and what few treefolk remain find their way there too, and the skies fill with pegasi and griffons and great birds of previous ages. It is a host meant to match that sent by the enemy, and most years, the numbers are evenly matched. This year is not one of those years. The Jötuun who leads is a fearsome creature, towering over even the tallest and fairest of the elves. Such is his ambition and ability that twice the host of previous years has been summoned. Despite being denied what he truly seeks - the All-Father and his kin have long since left for Valhalla to await the final days - he will sate his hunger for despair and dismemberment upon those arrayed against him on the frozen plains he'd claim for his own. The first blow he lands cracks like thunder preceding a mighty storm, and with that one strike, the battle is joined. Even when outnumbered, the host of defenders make the enemy pay dearly for every inch of ground. The fearsome fervor of dwarf warriors bites into goblins numerous beyond counting. Ancient spirits of the forests that pass for many years as trees wrestle with giants of frost. Pegasus and manticore swoop, dive, and strike, claws leaving ribbons of blood while hooves shatter bone. Beneath the icy plain, kraken and shark vie for supremacy in the silent, inky blackness of the crushing depths. He emerges for two reasons. One is that even as the battle rages, he has preparations to make. The sleigh must be filled. The sack must contain every gift. There must be sufficient coal available. The reindeer need to be fed, and all of this is done in spite of the fighting, for he will not forsake the children. Not on this night, not ever. What takes him away from his last-minute work is the other reason: if he senses a true challenge on the field, then and only then does he emerge from his workshop. His very presence demands reverence from both sides. The defenders give him respect and even love, while the invaders react with fear. The lines of battle part to make way for him. Mail of the finest metal gleams beneath his red coat. No helm adorns his plume of snow-white hair, no gorget beneath the curls of his beard. In his right hand he carries a blade, long and shimmering in the lights of the north, forged in a forgotten age. In his left is a mace blacker than the water in the depths beneath the ice, one that nearly resembles a weapon of the enemy, for he has always been a capricious and merry old soul, loyal only to his devotion to the joy of children. He walks with purpose, without hesitation, until he faces the leader of the enemy host. He stands until the Jötuun turns to acknowledge him, then he taps the flat of his blade to the side of his nose, twice, his way of saluting his foe. When he speaks, his voice is deep, and heard by every ear on the field. "Someone's been particularly naughty this year. Ho, ho, ho." Some Jötnar banter with Kringle, others offer terms of surrender. But this year, the giant attacks immediately. Claus, for his part, seems to never be terribly surprised by the enemy's decision, and this year his feet seem particularly nimble. The Jötuun's axe is a fearsome thing that has cleaved limbs and heads both in this battle, yet Kringle ducks and dodges, giving it only the shallowest of gashes in his skin and coat. It glances off of his mail and bites his rosy cheeks, but never gives the Jötuun satisfaction. When Claus finally strikes, he does so with his blade thrusting at the knees of his enemy. Like a serpent, it darts in and out, piercing darkened frost giant flesh. The Jötuun must turn to keep up with Kringle, opening his own wounds up even further, but the giant is heedless of the pain, fixed entirely on making Claus bleed. When the moment is right, Kringle brings down his mace on the right kneecap of the giant, then makes a long slash with his blade, and finally swings the black hammer up between the Jötuun's thighs. The giant topples, howling in agony. Claus is swift, merciful in comparison to many, and plunges his sword into the giant's heart while swinging his mace down into his enemy's head. So utter is this defeat and so mighty the blows that the ice cracks, threatening all who stand upon it. Kringle looks up from his work, smiling, bloodied by the fight but unbowed. "Now, let's see. Ho, ho, ho. Who else is on the Naughty list?" The enemy host quits the field promptly at that point. A mighty cheer goes up from the elves and fae, the dwarves and the spirits allied with the defenders. There will be feasting and drinking in the hall tonight, before Kringle takes his crucial ride. Thanks to him, the war is over. Until next year.

---

Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Back On Track

Writer Report: Back On Track — Blue Ink Alchemy

Cold Streets is back on the front burner and bubbling away nicely. I know I will have to go back and do a bunch of editing and rewriting. But I need to at least get the concepts, scenes, and beats out of my head and on to paper before I can properly mess around with them. And there's only one way to do that! In the hopes of keeping people interested in my work and with an eye towards better promotion, I'm happy to announce the following: for the rest of 2012, until January 2 2013, Cold Iron is on sale at Amazon for $0.99. If you haven't already, you can get it for your Kindle right here. If you have already downloaded and read Cold Iron, tell a friend, leave a review, send me a comment, something along those lines. I've gone back and forth about how to approach the former fantasy novel, and whether or not it will be a trilogy. Looking over the story, the complexities, and the things I want to discuss through and with the characters, I think that yes, breaking it up is probably the way to go. It is my hope that, as winter goes on, I can put together more notes, form more thoughts coherently, and finally take the red pen, scalpel, darling-slaying shotgun, and all-important flamethrower to my original manuscript to craft the first novel of the Godslayer trilogy. Last but not least, I still believe that science fiction stories do not need to be constrained to a single type within their own narratives. There's no reason a good character-driven story can't begin life as one thing and slowly become another. The Fellowship of the Ring has a whimsical, homey start in the Shire, but by the end, darkness and peril are all around and it's hard to imagine how things can get worse. It is that grounding in whimsy that makes the end, and the next two books, so powerful and resonant. It has been done in fantasy many times; why not in science fiction? I'm not comparing myself to Tolkien by any means, I just think that it might be an experiment worth trying.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

From the Vault: Handling Rejection

From the Vault: Handling Rejection — Blue Ink Alchemy

I used to do a regular feature I called "Pen Training", or "PT" for short. In lieu of anything else, as I'm running behind and did not write up a post beforehand like smart people do, here's a quick look into what I was yammering on about three years (!) ago in this very blogspace. Enjoy.

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Maybe you got a letter. It could be something you received electronically. One way or another, a submission or entry upon which you've spent time and energy has been rejected. Now, I'm not talking about receiving constructive criticism. That's always a good thing to get. Iron sharpening iron and all that. What I'm on about is the cold shoulder, either in the form of a bland photocopy of a generic letter or a complete and total lack of recognition for your efforts. It's like fancying yourself a comedian, telling a joke and waiting for the laughs which never come. It breaks the heart and erodes the soul. If you're anything like me... well, you might need a shave. But in terms of this sort of thing, after a few rejection letters or seeing a publication for which you wished to contribute which doesn't include what you sent, you probably went back over your submission with a fine-toothed comb. What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently? The questions inevitably leave to negative emotions. Maybe you'll feel put out by the rejection, thinking your work isn't good enough. There could be some frustration at the difference that ended up existing between what you envision and what you submitted. And maybe getting rejected for whichever time you've just been brushed off just pisses you off. Good. Not to re-tread old ground, but I've said over and over that negative emotions do not need to lead to negative outcomes. There a lot of things you can do with your feelings. One thing you should not do, however, is sit on your ass. There's work to be done. Pop the hood on your work. Strip out parts that rattle or shake. In other words, take a look at your creation and figure out the parts that work. Maybe you have a character or two that really connect with readers, or you've gotten some feedback telling you that a particular passage really hammers home the good things about your writing. Maybe there's that one shot in your portfolio that really jumps off the page. What about it works? Why does it connect while the rest of the work falls away? Step back and examine the situation, the environment and the construction of the parts that work. Once you recognize what makes those portions successful, strip out everything else and rebuild the work around that core of goodness. This might mean you only need to make a couple small changes, or it might mean you need to all but start from scratch. Don't fret, though: declaring a do-over could very well be a step in the right direction. One thing you don't want to do is rush. There's no need. Take a deep breath. Make some cocoa. Instead of tearing down what you've done and smashing it around with a wrecking ball, lay it out and take a scalpel to it. In the course of doing so, you'll find things that you're proud of in spite of the rejection and you'll also likely find something that makes you smile and shake your head in that "What the hell was I thinking?" sort of way. It might also be the case that you can't bear to look at the project that's been so callously rejected. That's understandable. But you still have a bunch of bad feelings that need to get vented. You have the old stand-by responses of games, movies, booze and cocoa but the best thing to do, in my opinion and experience, is to do something in the same creative vein to get you thinking about what your next step will be. It could be back to what caused you to feel this way or it could be in a new direction entirely. You won't know, however, until you take that step. Whatever you do, no matter how many things you find wrong with your work, no matter how much cocoa you drink, no matter how many rejections you'll have to deal with in the future, don't give up. You're trying to do something new and different. Creative people are inevitably going to face a great deal of opposition because the environment out in the world is one where creativity is seen as a secondary concern to efficiency or profitability, if creativity is acknowledged at all. You want to be fast in your process, efficient in your use of energy, but it can be difficult to bang out work promptly if you're wrestling with bad feelings or unsure of where to go next. Don't worry about that. Worry about getting from bad to good first. Then worry about getting things out quickly. Don't quit. Especially if your ideas and the need to express them get you out of bed in the morning and motivate you to expend your time and energy of turning them into reality. Screw the rejection and the idea that your creativity doesn't matter because it doesn't help you file TPS reports more efficiently.

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." - Harold Whitman

Drinking your cocoa from a mug of Shakespearean insults doesn't hurt, either.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Why So Serious?

Why So Serious? — Blue Ink Alchemy

The new trailer for the upcoming Man Of Steel film is available. If you haven't seen it already, I recommend taking a look. If you're a DC fan, you're probably pretty psyched. Personally, I find myself wondering when Superman became so dour and sullen. The endeavor looks to be steeped in darkness and carrying a current of realism that, unsurprisingly, seems to be cast by the shadow of the bat. I'm not sure how much my readership these days is familiar with comic books, but most readers would agree that Superman and Batman are very different heroes. Batman comes from a place of pain and weakness, motivated by a very tangible need for justice and vengeance more than anything else. With no superpowers or magical artifacts to aid him, Batman pursues his enemies with only his wits, his martial prowess, and the unlimited funds of a wealthy international corporation. Every night is a struggle, and many situations he survives are near-misses that nearly take his life. Superman, on the other hand, is an alien from another world. Yes, his world was doomed, but here on Earth he has god-like powers, and discovers new ones on a regular basis. Impervious to physical harm, faster than man's fastest technology, strong beyond mortal reckoning... the list goes on. He's the sort of hero that lends himself less to a gritty, down-on-the-streets sort of story and more to the kind of yarn where he punches ten-story-tall steam-powered robots in the face so they stop hosing down Main Street with disintegration rays. Part of the reason Superman seems appealing to people is because of his outlook. For all of his powers and knowledge, he comes from a place of genuine concern for his adopted planet and its people, wanting to fit in more than he wants to rule or even protect as a pet owner protects their beloved animals. He tries his best to relate to people, allowing himself to be goofy or clumsy if it will both get their attention and cover up what he really is, and even when he's showing his true self, he speaks to the innocent with a sort of 'aw, shucks' charm that, when presented right, does make him a bit more endearing. Both Christopher Reeve and Brandon Routh were in productions that got this. Back in the Donner days, Superman had a winning smile and did his utmost to be humble in light of everything people saw him doing, and Clark Kent often came off as oafish or shy, despite the opposite clearly being the case if you looked hard enough (Lois Lane did). And in Superman Returns, both identities of the character remain consistent. Clark is still apparently timid, while Superman still has those pearly whites and still wants to remind you that, statistically, flying is the safest way to travel. For all of its problems, Superman Returns not only gave us a fantastic Lois Lane, but also 'got' what made Superman a somewhat more interesting character. Man of Steel, on the other hand, feels like it's going in another direction, one I'm not entirely sold on. From Pa Kent apparently being a less than upstanding guy to Clark sporting what is colloquially known as a "beard of sorrow," Man of Steel is looking to be a super-serious take on Superman. It's plying more towards a realistic look at the superhero and his world. I can't comment on the quality of the work nor on the writing of it, but when it comes to this theme and premise, the big question I have is: Why? Why do away with the whimsy and charm? Why, indeed, is it so serious? Over the last few years this trend has emerged, in which some familiar stories and characters get a "dark and gritty" reboot. Thankfully, they're not as dipped in darkness and gothic architecture as they were in the 90s, but I find myself wondering why this keeps happening. Taking an old story in a new direction is something I'd definitely advocate, but does it always have to be in this serious a direction? There's a reason the Flash Gordon TV series from a few years back failed, other than the writing problems: you lose a lot of the magic when you take out some of the more fantastical elements of a story. I haven't seen more than a couple episodes of Once Upon A Time, but what I did see looked to be trying a balance between real-world storytelling and a fresh take on a world shared by all sorts of fairy tales. It's one of those things I've been recommended to watch, and I admit I'm curious. I can understand why some people don't like camp, why going completely headlong into the otherworldly and fantastical turns some people off, but to me, this is too far in the other direction. It can and should be possible to balance a realistic grounding of well-rounded characters with greater flights of fancy and a bit of the pure escapism we seem to have lost in the last decade or two. Sometimes we want to see our heroes be upbeat folks who face their challenges without fear and maybe buckle a swash or two. They don't always have to be sad sack sentinels of What Is Right And Wrong with a heavy moral decision to make. In other words, not every superhero movie has to be The Dark Knight. In fact, I'm pretty sure Batman would give Superman a Kryptonite kick in the balls for stepping on his turf.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Regarding Ms. Lane

Regarding Ms. Lane — Blue Ink Alchemy

Laundry nights at the Sheppard's¹ have become a good place to get caught up on movies, especially in the superhero genre. Being brought up as a nerd, I do have at least a passing familiarity with many a costumed crimefighter, and recently our friends reintroduced us to the cinematic renditions of one of the most famous. I don't want to actually talk about the Man of Steel himself, though, as he can be a tad ridiculous at times. I still can't get over the absurdity of his three Kryptonian mates having vocal conversations on the surface of the moon. Even if they don't have to breathe, how will their words reach each other's ears if there is no air to carry the sound waves? Ahh, but I digress. We only watched the first two Christopher Reeve & Richard Donner films, as the second two are abominations of cinema. I did, however, enjoy seeing the Donner cut of Superman II, especially the scene where Lois Lane gets Clark Kent to reveal his secret identity by pulling a gun on him. It can be easy to forget, especially on the parts of the writers of said funny books & big-budget movies, that when she isn't getting rescued by Superman or pining after the cut physique poured into those tights, Lois Lane is an intrepid reporter. You don't see it as much as you might think, as apparently Superman battling giant robots, space monsters and a bald maniacal businessman is more interesting. But a great example of bringing this aspect of the story and this character to the forefront is Superman Returns. While the film is a bit more somber and character-driven than its early 80s predecessors², and most of its plot is lifted directly from the first movie, one thing that stood out at me is how we see Lois Lane. We see her as not just the token damsel in distress. We see Lois do some actual reporting. We watch her fight for what she feels is right, be it with her boss or the man who left her behind without a word. We get to know her as a mother. And while she does get into peril from which Superman must save her, she puts herself in peril to save him. I know there are going to be people who disagree with me, but I think this Lois Lane, the one brought to us by Kate Bosworth, may be the best one put on screen. I'm not sure exactly how much Lois is supposed to be a sex symbol in comparison to, say, Catwoman, but the decision to keep Kate's looks and fashion somewhat understated was a good one. Her moments of strength, vulnerability, doubt and resolve come across as more uncontrived and genuine because we're not distracted by her looks. This speaks to a strong script as well as good acting and mature costume & makeup decisions. Now, a lot of the good lines from Superman Returns were recycled from the first film along with most of the plot, but the emotional talks between Lois and her preternatural paramour felt new and real. Superman is a good person who's made bad decisions. When confronted with the fallout from those decisions, he owns up to his mistake and seeks ways to make things right. Lois does not immediately forgive him and fall into his arms. She's conflicted, a thousand emotions competing for her focus and running all over her face. I know there's a lot of Superman Returns that rips off Donner's work, but there's a scene or two where we catch a glimpse of some really interesting things that could have (and perhaps should have) happened with these characters. In a world where DC's rebooted most of its female characters to be vehicles for cleavage and consequence-free sex, I'll take Kate Bosworth's Lois Lane over a thousand Catwomen³.

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¹ Not to be confused with the Shepard's place. How cool would it be to do my laundry on the Normandy? ² Actually, the original Superman is as old as I am. How about that! ³ Of course I make an exception for Anne Hathaway's Catwoman. She's pretty much perfect.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Block Breaking Redux

Block Breaking Redux — Blue Ink Alchemy

I originally wrote this post over a year ago. However, it feels more relevant now than it did then. Maybe because I'm still struggling to carve out time to write, maybe because I know I'm not the only one writing less than I'd like, maybe because it's close to the end of the year. Who knows, maybe me from the past wrote out this post as a reminder to my future self that writer's block is something of a fallacy and needs to be dealt with head-on rather than worried about in a quiet, hands-wringing fashion. Anyway, here's what I had to say about it, and I feel it's still true: I know for a fact that writer's block doesn't exist. It's a phantasmal construct, a conjuration of minds desperate to make words appear on pages but struggling with an inability to do so. Every writer, from the best-selling novelist to the mommy blogger to the spinner of rhetoric deals with it now and again. The desire to write is there, hungry and unplacated, but the words are not. They simply do not appear. Those are the times when a writer is tempted to reach for the "writer's block" excuse. The fact of the matter is that many factors can contribute to a lack of words. Too many distractions. Not enough rest. Too much caffiene. Or not enough. Hunger, frustration, despair and doubt. Tangled emotions can wad up in the neurons of the writer and, yes, block the flow of creativity. It's the closest writer's block ever comes to being real. But along with the term comes the notion that it's wished into being by malevolent forces. A writer can believe that if writer's block is indeed the cause for a lack of productivity, there's little that can be done about it. Here's proof that you couldn't be more wrong. That's another thing that can cause a writer to believe in the so-called "block". A sense of futility. It can seem like there's no new stories to tell. An article on politics or gaming or frighteningly effective sex toys can appear redundant. This very post on writer's block feels a bit like repetition. So what? Just because a particular story has been told doesn't mean you can't tell it differently. Maybe even better. You won't know until you try, and the alternative is making nothing happen at all. In the words of XKCD, fuck that shit. We all have bad days. Everybody struggles. Not every moment is going to be full of the creative juices flowing freely from your brainpan through the dream-tubes in your arms to the paper or keyboard or tablet or paint-stained wall. And you know what? That's okay. What's not okay is letting it stop you from doing something about it. Maybe you won't write today. Maybe you feel your drawings suck. Maybe you think you suck hard at something you enjoy or want to excel in doing. Welcome to the human race, now stop beating yourself up over not being perfect. Let the issue drop. Stop worrying about it. Gnaw no more on your fingernails and insides. Take a break. Grab some food. Make yourself a drink. Find something pleasurable to do. Go the fuck outside. When you get back, the work will still be waiting for you. But you will no longer feel ill-equipped to deal with it. You will, instead, kick its ass. If writer's block did exist, consider sentiments like this your sledgehammer. I'll happily help you swing it.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Block Breaking Redux

Block Breaking Redux — Blue Ink Alchemy

I originally wrote this post over a year ago. However, it feels more relevant now than it did then. Maybe because I'm still struggling to carve out time to write, maybe because I know I'm not the only one writing less than I'd like, maybe because it's close to the end of the year. Who knows, maybe me from the past wrote out this post as a reminder to my future self that writer's block is something of a fallacy and needs to be dealt with head-on rather than worried about in a quiet, hands-wringing fashion. Anyway, here's what I had to say about it, and I feel it's still true: I know for a fact that writer's block doesn't exist. It's a phantasmal construct, a conjuration of minds desperate to make words appear on pages but struggling with an inability to do so. Every writer, from the best-selling novelist to the mommy blogger to the spinner of rhetoric deals with it now and again. The desire to write is there, hungry and unplacated, but the words are not. They simply do not appear. Those are the times when a writer is tempted to reach for the "writer's block" excuse. The fact of the matter is that many factors can contribute to a lack of words. Too many distractions. Not enough rest. Too much caffiene. Or not enough. Hunger, frustration, despair and doubt. Tangled emotions can wad up in the neurons of the writer and, yes, block the flow of creativity. It's the closest writer's block ever comes to being real. But along with the term comes the notion that it's wished into being by malevolent forces. A writer can believe that if writer's block is indeed the cause for a lack of productivity, there's little that can be done about it. Here's proof that you couldn't be more wrong. That's another thing that can cause a writer to believe in the so-called "block". A sense of futility. It can seem like there's no new stories to tell. An article on politics or gaming or frighteningly effective sex toys can appear redundant. This very post on writer's block feels a bit like repetition. So what? Just because a particular story has been told doesn't mean you can't tell it differently. Maybe even better. You won't know until you try, and the alternative is making nothing happen at all. In the words of XKCD, fuck that shit. We all have bad days. Everybody struggles. Not every moment is going to be full of the creative juices flowing freely from your brainpan through the dream-tubes in your arms to the paper or keyboard or tablet or paint-stained wall. And you know what? That's okay. What's not okay is letting it stop you from doing something about it. Maybe you won't write today. Maybe you feel your drawings suck. Maybe you think you suck hard at something you enjoy or want to excel in doing. Welcome to the human race, now stop beating yourself up over not being perfect. Let the issue drop. Stop worrying about it. Gnaw no more on your fingernails and insides. Take a break. Grab some food. Make yourself a drink. Find something pleasurable to do. Go the fuck outside. When you get back, the work will still be waiting for you. But you will no longer feel ill-equipped to deal with it. You will, instead, kick its ass. If writer's block did exist, consider sentiments like this your sledgehammer. I'll happily help you swing it.

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Blue Ink Alchemy