Tabletop as Brain Food

Tabletop as Brain Food — Blue Ink Alchemy

I've put myself on a path to improve my physical well-being. Being more mindful of what and how much I eat, walking with the intent to start running, looking into a local gym, and so on. Mostly, I fear the atrophy that comes with a sedentary day job and an equally low-impact life at home, and if I'm honest, I'm unhappy with the amount of flab I currently have on my frame. However, making such a change is relatively easy. The body can adapt to adjustments in schedule and activity rather well, all things being equal, and it's really a matter of establishing and sticking to habits than anything else. But what about the brain? The most vital of organs also needs maintenance and attention as we age. It's important to keep the mind engaged and not just feed it something distracting or shallow all of the time. I mean, I won't begrudge people who really enjoy "Dancing With The Stars" or "Two And A Half Men", some people do need to unwind with that kind of fare. I'm simply not one of them. As much as I like the occasional campy pleasure like Flash Gordon, more often than not I look to have my brain fed, to keep it trained, to present it with challenges it must overcome. That, in part, is why I enjoy tabletop games so much. It took me a while in my youth to really grasp how important it was to me to keep playing them. For a time, I simply enjoyed spending time with my dad, even if I would sometimes let myself get bored between moves rather than studying his strategy and planning my response. Nowadays I can't imagine sitting entirely idle during an opponent's turn, though I do occasionally get distracted. Not only is it necessary to pay attention in order to look for victory, it's an exercise in putting yourself in another's position, or imagining the other as a complex being instead of just someone to beat. That, to me, is just as important as winning. I am quite fortunate to be in a place where I can spend time around other gamers who are engaging in this way almost constantly. My co-workers play and even design games on a daily basis. A fantastic store is within easy driving distance to present all sorts of challenges. My father lives a bit further up the road. When I get home, I have the option to play something like Civilization V, Magic: the Gathering - Duels of the Planeswalkers, or Blood Bowl with other human beings. And on rare occasions, a game of Chez Geek or Cards Against Humanity might break out. To me, the important factor in this is that other people are involved. No programmed response or solitaire experience really throws a wrench into your thought processes like another live human being. It makes the problem solving more complex, and thus more rewarding, even when you lose. On top of that, being in a situation with another person as your opponent builds character and social skills. Trite as it may sound, we learn more from losing than from winning, both about how we play and how we act. It's one thing to gnash your teeth and swear at something like Super Meat Boy or Hotline Miami; doing so at a stranger or even a friend is quite another issue. Fun as it can be amongst people who know you to engage in name-calling for the sake of in-game banter, when it comes to playing with strangers or in a competition it's important to know your limits and when and how to gracefully bow out of things, or the optimal way to accept and celebrate victory in front of those who've lost. You can only get that through this sort of play, and you learn it as your brain is trained. Boring as it may seem to some outside observers, when I'm engaged in a game like this, I assure you, I'm never really bored.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

Movie Review: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter — Blue Ink Alchemy

According to Wikipedia, the 16th President of the United States was the son of a farmer and carpenter who went into the practice of law and later entered politics, prompted at least in part by the ongoing presence of slavery in the country. He had a talent for writing speeches and legislation, struggled to keep the country intact when the Civil War threatened to split it in half, and was assassinated soon after that war's conclusion. Most of his life has been well-chronicled up until this point. However, one of the most recent tales of his days came in the form of a novel by one Seth Graeme-Smith, author of somewhat kitschy niche work Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, that goes the title Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. Tim Burton picked it up for production as a major motion picture, which brings us to this review. In this version of Abe's life, his mother is killed by a vampire over a debt owed by his father. Fueled by a righteous need for vengeance, Abe comes across a mysterious stranger who offers to teach him the ways and means of hunting the undead. Abe agrees, and soon becomes something of a daytime hitman for his mentor. It soon becomes apparent that the vampires, settled mostly in the south, are planning something major and Abe must do something to stop it. The vampire's plan is to found their own nation where they can enslave and devour the population in peace, and to respond, Abe rises through the political ranks and fights back against the denizens of the night with more than just a trick axe and some good moves; he goes to war against them, the proper way, with an entire army at his command. You may have noticed that this premise is, on its face, just a touch on the silly side. And it easily could have been played up for laughs or dressed up in the sort of high-octane camp that would set it up for eventual cult status. However, director Timur Bekmambetov (Wanted) shoots the subject in an entirely straightforward fashion, the nature of the tale's premise an undercurrent instead of an overt feeling. This results in a movie that, while sounding silly on paper, comes across in a very earnest way. Much like the members of Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks takes their jobs as seriously as any public officials would, and Mel Brooks' vile race known as the Spaceballs go about stealing atmospheres in an incredibly impractical way, Abraham Lincoln accepts the nature of his nocturnal world on its face and remains honest and upright in his quest. In this case, the delivery of the story is just as honest-seeming and upright. If the film's tongue is in its cheek, it's really buried in there. It plays out as an extended exercise in deadpan humor as well as thinly-veiled social commentary.
Pre-dating Blade by at least a century. "Slavery is vampirism" gets about as blatant an allegory as you can get. However, like the potential for humor, none of the greater tragedies of the day or our perspectives on the practice of keeping people as property inform the actions of the film. The film does not suddenly become maudlin over the sacrifices made to help the United States become more enlightened or melancholy in pausing to deliver a message on how vile such practices are. Instead it sticks to its guns (and axes), moving forward through the story without taking overlong to comment on any of the peripheries. The story, as it stands, is relatively straightforward and follows Lincoln's life and events, and the actors never stop to wink at the audience or make shop-stopping speeches. The makers of the film are aware that most nuances and commentary would be lost on at least a portion of the audience and thus opt more for a straight-forward supernatural action flick than anything else. The problem with this is that the action is not incredibly inventive. Oh, it looks cool as hell to see Honest Abe axe-murdering creatures of the night, but only a few of his kills feel like something original. There's a neat scene that takes place during a horse stampede and I was curious how much of his training was influenced by something like kung fu, but most of the action is the sort of well-shot but empty entertainment that is more the norm than the exception. This lack of originality coupled with a dearth of real narrative punch or interesting character turns leaves the whole film feeling dry and, pardon the pun, a touch bloodless. It rattles along towards its conclusion with most of its twists and turns easily spotted by viewers who haven't fallen asleep, and many of the circumstances of the events feel at least somewhat contrived.
Oh, Ramona, I can't stay mad at you. However, with all of that said, I came away from Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter feeling like my time had not been completely wasted. Sure, it was a light popcorn flick, but it felt like it was trying its best to rise above that classification to become something at least slightly more. And while it doesn't quite rise above the baseline set by other action movies, the effort made does make a difference in terms of how much it can be enjoyed and for what reasons. It's not a bad move by any stretch of the imagination. It's well-assembled, cleanly shot, the actors are all fine, above average, or even good in their delivery, and the movie is not overly wrong. It may not be the best film ever made, but it does plenty of things right that others do wrong, and it could have been much, much worse. Stuff I Liked: The action was well-shot and never confusing. The little touches of historical facts and figures lent some authenticity. The aging effects later in the film are neat. Blatant as it was, I dug the allegory. Stuff I Didn't Like: There was no real complexity to the plot; most of its twists could be seen from a mile away. The fights can get a touch repetitive as the film goes on. Sticking to a largely historical narrative leaves the plot with few overarching surprises. Stuff I Loved: The story never takes itself too seriously nor goes completely camp; it walks a fine line very well for its entire run, it never stops being earnest and even-handed in its delivery, and the actors are selling the hell out of it. Bottom Line: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter is an amusing exercise in historical fiction that puts in the right amount of effort, doesn't overstay its welcome, and opts for being oddly earnest in its social commentary rather than having its tongue in its cheek. It does have a fair amount of contrivance and some of it is fairly predictable, but that's balanced by its presentation and the go-for-broke performances of everyone involved.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

Movie Review: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter — Blue Ink Alchemy

According to Wikipedia, the 16th President of the United States was the son of a farmer and carpenter who went into the practice of law and later entered politics, prompted at least in part by the ongoing presence of slavery in the country. He had a talent for writing speeches and legislation, struggled to keep the country intact when the Civil War threatened to split it in half, and was assassinated soon after that war's conclusion. Most of his life has been well-chronicled up until this point. However, one of the most recent tales of his days came in the form of a novel by one Seth Graeme-Smith, author of somewhat kitschy niche work Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, that goes the title Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. Tim Burton picked it up for production as a major motion picture, which brings us to this review. In this version of Abe's life, his mother is killed by a vampire over a debt owed by his father. Fueled by a righteous need for vengeance, Abe comes across a mysterious stranger who offers to teach him the ways and means of hunting the undead. Abe agrees, and soon becomes something of a daytime hitman for his mentor. It soon becomes apparent that the vampires, settled mostly in the south, are planning something major and Abe must do something to stop it. The vampire's plan is to found their own nation where they can enslave and devour the population in peace, and to respond, Abe rises through the political ranks and fights back against the denizens of the night with more than just a trick axe and some good moves; he goes to war against them, the proper way, with an entire army at his command. You may have noticed that this premise is, on its face, just a touch on the silly side. And it easily could have been played up for laughs or dressed up in the sort of high-octane camp that would set it up for eventual cult status. However, director Timor B shoots the subject in an entirely straightforward fashion, the nature of the tale's premise an undercurrent instead of an overt feeling. This results in a movie that, while sounding silly on paper, comes across in a very earnest way. Much like the members of Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks takes their jobs as seriously as any public officials would, and Mel Brooks' vile race known as the Spaceballs go about stealing atmospheres in an incredibly impractical way, Abraham Lincoln accepts the nature of his nocturnal world on its face and remains honest and upright in his quest. In this case, the delivery of the story is just as honest-seeming and upright. If the film's tongue is in its cheek, it's really buried in there. It plays out as an extended exercise in deadpan humor as well as thinly-veiled social commentary.
Pre-dating Blade by at least a century. "Slavery is vampirism" gets about as blatant an allegory as you can get. However, like the potential for humor, none of the greater tragedies of the day or our perspectives on the practice of keeping people as property inform the actions of the film. The film does not suddenly become maudlin over the sacrifices made to help the United States become more enlightened or melancholy in pausing to deliver a message on how vile such practices are. Instead it sticks to its guns (and axes), moving forward through the story without taking overlong to comment on any of the peripheries. The story, as it stands, is relatively straightforward and follows Lincoln's life and events, and the actors never stop to wink at the audience or make shop-stopping speeches. The makers of the film are aware that most nuances and commentary would be lost on at least a portion of the audience and thus opt more for a straight-forward supernatural action flick than anything else. The problem with this is that the action is not incredibly inventive. Oh, it looks cool as hell to see Honest Abe axe-murdering creatures of the night, but only a few of his kills feel like something original. There's a neat scene that takes place during a horse stampede and I was curious how much of his training was influenced by something like kung fu, but most of the action is the sort of well-shot but empty entertainment that is more the norm than the exception. This lack of originality coupled with a dearth of real narrative punch or interesting character turns leaves the whole film feeling dry and, pardon the pun, a touch bloodless. It rattles along towards its conclusion with most of its twists and turns easily spotted by viewers who haven't fallen asleep, and many of the circumstances of the events feel at least somewhat contrived.
Oh, Ramona, I can't stay mad at you. However, with all of that said, I came away from Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter feeling like my time had not been completely wasted. Sure, it was a light popcorn flick, but it felt like it was trying its best to rise above that classification to become something at least slightly more. And while it doesn't quite rise above the baseline set by other action movies, the effort made does make a difference in terms of how much it can be enjoyed and for what reasons. It's not a bad move by any stretch of the imagination. It's well-assembled, cleanly shot, the actors are all fine, above average, or even good in their delivery, and the movie is not overly wrong. It may not be the best film ever made, but it does plenty of things right that others do wrong, and it could have been much, much worse. Stuff I Liked: The action was well-shot and never confusing. The little touches of historical facts and figures lent some authenticity. The aging effects later in the film are neat. Blatant as it was, I dug the allegory. Stuff I Didn't Like: There was no real complexity to the plot; most of its twists could be seen from a mile away. The fights can get a touch repetitive as the film goes on. Sticking to a largely historical narrative leaves the plot with few overarching surprises. Stuff I Loved: The story never takes itself too seriously nor goes completely camp; it walks a fine line very well for its entire run, it never stops being earnest and even-handed in its delivery, and the actors are selling the hell out of it. Bottom Line: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter is an amusing exercise in historical fiction that puts in the right amount of effort, doesn't overstay its welcome, and opts for being oddly earnest in its social commentary rather than having its tongue in its cheek. It does have a fair amount of contrivance and some of it is fairly predictable, but that's balanced by its presentation and the go-for-broke performances of everyone involved.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: Mutter

Flash Fiction: Mutter — Blue Ink Alchemy

Captured by Matt Blaze For the Terribleminds challenge . Choices are listed after the story.

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The catacombs beneath the Mütter Museum stretched out for miles beneath the city. Between the sewer systems and the tunnels of the capitol's mass transit system was a subterranean world few entered of their own volition. In fact, it was only the repeated disappearances that had prompted UBI agent Kirk Levitt to look into their entrance. He did not know what to expect; his sidearm was already drawn, its light moving back and forth through the darkness as he walked. "Remember. When I tell you, douse that light. You will need it." His guide was a curious person. He worked as a tour guide in Philadelphia, mostly working the area around Fort Chamberlain, the refuge of then-President Lincoln and his family when the Confederates sacked Washington at the end of the Civil War. "How long has this been going on?" "Nobody's sure." She still wore her tour guide garb, right down to the tri-corner hat and flappy overcoat, the dress of a soldier from the Revolutionary War. "Even my master was never bold enough to come down here." "Yet you are?" "Not on my own. I'd be arrested if I came in without pretense or credentials." Levitt blinked in the semi-darkness. "You just waited around for someone like me to finally look into the kidnappings and disappearances?" "It's not my fault the Union authorities are so slow." Levitt took a breath to protest, but then let it go. He was also often frustrated with the methodical pace with which the UBI operated, especially when it came to kidnappings. They walked on in silence for long, dark minutes. Levitt wasn't certain how the woman knew where she was going, but as he had no clue himself, he raised no argument, keeping his focus on the shadows before him, alert for any clues. "Douse the light." He hesitated for a moment, then lowered his pistol and twisted the light until it switched off. He closed his eyes, counted to five, and slowly opened them again. A strong hand with long gloved fingers touched his wrist, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Be calm. I'm still next to you." Her voice did little to reassure him, but he let her raise his gun back to its ready position. "Keep your off hand on the light for now. When I give the word, turn it back on." "You don't need it to see?" "No. I can see." Levitt was about to protest when he heard her boots on stone next to him. She was walking. He followed, keeping his ears open for the sound of her footsteps to guide him. She moved quickly, not enough to wind Levitt, but certainly faster than a casual walk. It wasn't long before he began to hear things other than their footsteps and his breathing. Out of the darkness floated a rattle of chains, a muffled sob, something whispered. "Quiet now, Agent. Remember, when I give the word, turn on your light." He nodded, even though he could not see her. He felt something moist on his face, a thickening of the air. The temperature around him had gone up. As they moved, soft glows could be seen pushing back the darkness. They closed in on the meager lights, and Levitt eventually made out that they were small candles, set back along the edges of a large circular chamber, the flickering glimmers playing off shapes in alcoves beyond his sight. Yet, his mind began to process what he was seeing and hearing, and his experiences in the UBI told him what he was seeing. Prisoners. "We have to help them." "Be silent." The candles also illuminated the large shape in the middle of the room. It seemed at first to be a plinth or altar of some kind. Then, as its lid slid aside, Levitt realized they were in a crypt, and this was the coffin. A figure rose from the stone sarcophagus, blocking some of the candles, two red pinpricks focusing on the intruders. "Well, well. I was wondering when you'd find me." "Your evil has lasted long enough, fiend." "You're one to talk. Unwilling to embrace what sets you apart from the sack of blood beside you, frightened of your own potential, lashing out at those who are more your kind than the cattle will ever be. Which is the truer evil?" "I don't abduct innocents." "Oh, they're hardly innocent. What was it your mother did, again?" Levitt heard a low growl next to him. "Do not speak of her again. You get one warning." "And what will you do if I do, child? I am centuries your elder. I've taken many a whore in my time, and I was told your mother was particularly special..." "Agent Levitt." Levitt twisted the light as quickly as he could. Somehow, in that half-second, the figure in the coffin had climbed out of it and was an arm's length from him. There was a touch of genuine surprise on his pale face, but his eyes were fully red, and his mouth was open, showing long sharp fangs. Levitt emptied his pistol. The vampire didn't go down, but staggered, the gunshots deafening in the small space. When the gun clicked empty, the woman leapt, her long cloak flapping behind her. Levitt saw vials, blades, and pouches underneath, and she had a long wooden stake in her hand. With a savage cry, she drove it straight through the vampire's breastbone with a sickening crunch. Her coat had not settled before she drew a short but heavy blade, and spinning, she took his head from his shoulders. The UBI agent caught his breath, keeping his gun on the headless corpse as the woman rose, cleaning her blade with a white cloth. "What... what..." "That was a vampire. These are his captives. And you, Agent Levitt, have helped me hunt and slay him. This is who and what I am, and what I do. The question is: what will you do now?"

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d10 of Destiny rolls: 8 (Parallel Universe), 3 (In a vampire's subterranean lair), 7 (A mysterious stranger)

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Quick Update

Quick Update — Blue Ink Alchemy

This week's Flash Fiction is getting pushed until tomorrow. I apologize for the delay! Things got a hectic over the weekend and I was left with little time to concentrate on writing. I'll be making up for it tonight. Somebody put the coffee on.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Goals and Targets

Writer Report: Goals and Targets — Blue Ink Alchemy

I've been dropping words here and there into Cold Streets this week. I have the feeling that I'm reaching the top of the hill, and that in a couple hundred words, things are just going to take off. Moreso than the first novella, this one is taking its time getting to really juicy peril, and I hope people like the time it takes building on relationships and exploring new perspectives. Both Godslayer and the sci-fi noir project have been getting some attention from me, as well. I've spent some time wondering what other media could be used to convey these stories. Do I hit up an artist to put one of them out in webcomic form? Should I teach myself a game engine and put my programming chops to use in something other than the dayjob? At this point, I'm still operating under the 'novel' assumption, but things can always change. Basically, my goal is to have two major tales done by the end of this year, Cold Streets and perhaps one of the others. To do that I have targets to meet on a daily and weekly basis, much like I will for the renewed attempts I'll be making at fitness (more to come on that). The more I examine how I spend my days and nights, the more I see that there's plenty of time for me to get everything done, as long as I actually take the time to plan things in advance. Life will happen, of course, but the more I prepare beforehand, the more I'll be able to roll with the punches. That's what makes sense to me, at least.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Early Adoption, Preorders, and the PS4

Early Adoption, Preorders, and the PS4 — Blue Ink Alchemy

Courtesy The Escapist Last night saw the big announcement and unveiling of Sony's next generation of console, the PlayStation 4. Actually, 'unveiling' is a misnomer, as the console itself was a no-show. The crowd in the room and people who managed to watch the stream got a whole bunch of specs for the new device, a look at its controller, and previews of its launch titles, including a new Killzone, a racing game, and Diablo III, among others. We know it will be available for sale by the end of this year, and we know its price point will be between $429 and $529 in US currency. Now, I am not a games journalist. I don't have the experience or clout or wherewithal or following to adequately fill that role. Many people I admire professionally, and some I've met or know personally, already work very hard and often thanklessly to keep scrubs like me informed. So what follows is not so much an editorial spiel on last night's presentation, but more a from-the-groundlings reaction to this and other recent stuff in the video games market. To me, the hoopla over the PS4 is a lot of sound and fury signifying very little. Glimpses of the presentation left me unimpressed, and what visuals I saw looked more like a tiny step forward in graphical quality, rather than a giant leap. The integration of social media sharing and other features like friends being able to take control of your game if you let them just strikes me as somewhat gimmicky, and seems like an avenue for others to exploit the hardware. On the other hand, built-in streaming and recording are good things for folks looking to break out as pro gamers, or who just want to share their gaming experiences with others, without tying them to a PC. It's entirely possible that I'm somewhat biased. I've been building my own desktop PCs for a long time, and I've always done so with an eye on gaming hardware and ensuring I can play new releases for at least a few years. I have yet to build a hardcore gaming PC with dual graphics processors or liquid cooling or anything fancy like that, but this latest rig especially has been very good at putting console graphics to shame, for the most part. The PS4 does not look to be light-years ahead of what I already have under my desk, and what's more, I have the sneaking suspicion that its new hardware and features may not work as smoothly on release day as they seemed to last night. I only recently purchased a PS3, and it works well. It plays its games easily, and there are plenty to choose from. But this is years after its release. I did not pay the markup inevitable with a hot new product, I didn't deal with early bugs or account hacks, and I have never felt comfortable buying something like a gaming console on the promise of what's to come. I want to know what I'm investing in before I invest, which is why I watch MTG Salvation like a hawk whenever a new Magic set is announced. I'm sure some businesses are eager to capitalize on the early adoption dollar, but I've never seen the logic behind such behavior. This is especially true when it comes to video games, especially given what we've seen lately. I was interested in Aliens: Colonial Marines, as a fan of the franchise and someone eager to see the days of shooters like Doom and Painkiller come roaring back to this generation of dull modern military "spunkgargleweewee" titles. But that interest has evaporated. Not only have the reviews of the game been abysmal from both professional critics and knee-jerk groundling gamers (like me!), but the demo that got everybody so hyped for the game turns out to have been entirely fabricated. And now, thousands if not millions of gamers are stuck with a game they pre-ordered that completely took them to the cleaners in promising something that it simply refused to deliver. If I put in a pre-order for something, I want to have a decent idea of what to expect. I pre-ordered Cold Days on the merits of Jim Butcher's previous work. I've put in to get boxes of Magic cards on the street date because I know what'll be in the box, or at least what sort of mix there's likely to be in the boosters. Video games, unfortunately, have neither the track record nor the transparency to give me the confidence I feel is required to justify a pre-order. I don't care what DLC is on offer, I'm not as taken in as I once was by kitsch in the box, and I get suspicious when a game is hyped too much in the days leading up to release. There are games I'm interested that are coming out, to be certain, but with my age and awareness has come a growing sense of suspicion and cynicism when it comes to being sold such things. As hopeful as I am that BioShock Infinite will rock my world, the failures of BioShock 2 are enough to give me pause before clicking that 'Pre-Order' button on Amazon, to say nothing of what's happened to Aliens fans and the broken promises of games like Duke Nukem Forever and Killzone 2. The phrase caveat emptor has not gone anywhere, and it's as true in the 21st century as it was back before the 1st. Know what you're going to buy before you buy it, and take the time to ask serious questions about what you're going to invest your time and hard-earned money into before handing it over to a third party who's more interested in a fancier boat or hat than they are in delivering what they promise or ensuring you're a satisfied customer. I'm not an early adopter, and I've stopped pre-ordering video games, because this sort of swindling and smoke-and-mirrors behavior has got to stop. And they only way we can really tell these people how we feel is with our wallets, by keeping them closed.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Game Review: Journey

Game Review: Journey — Blue Ink Alchemy

I would be one of the first people to stand on rooftops to declare video games as a legitimate form of art. They convey stories in a way not possible in books, music, cinema, or the stage. They combine many forms of media into a singular experience to entertain and engage. Until now, there have not been a lot of games that fully encapsulate the experience of a work of art, the sort of thing that defies description and speaks to the engaged on a personal level. Some immerse with gameplay mechanics while others focus on story. Many video games struggle with balance between the two. Journey does it with such ease, it's almost painful in its sublime beauty. I had a feeling I'd start gushing about the game once I started typing. I'll try and reign it in. Journey is both the title and premise of this little PS3 exclusive indy title from thatgamecompany. Your character, nameless and without speech, begins by some markers at the edge of the desert. In the distance is a mountain, from which pours a geyser of light into the sky. It is mysterious and ominous at the same time, and it is your sole destination. You are gifted with a scarf, and when the scarf's embroidery glows, you can use it to fly a little. That is literally all you know at the beginning of the game. Games have taken great strides in immersion over the years, and one of the biggest steps has been the minimization of user interface. While impossible for things like MMOs, the less overt information that clogs the screen, the more room there is for the design team to show their work. Journey is almost completely without UI. There's no health bar to speak of, no prompts for quick time events, no directional arrows or minimap or equipment or sub menus. You are shown an outline of your controller at brief moments when you start out, demonstrating how to act in one of the two permitted ways other than movement: you can fly, and you can sing. When you sing, you not only emit notes, a small sigil appears above your head; it is the mark you make upon the world. As you travel, you may see other marks and hear other notes. As much as the expanse between you and the mountain yawns wide and desolate, you are not alone in your journey. Other players are with you, and some may try to endear themselves to you by helping out while others run in circles or sit quietly. You can leave them behind you, of course, pressing ever onward, but there's no guarantee one won't try to keep up. Yet, the path you must take is lonely, filled with signs that something terrible happened in the past, and there are perils ahead that are daunting to face on your own. You will not know the people you meet in Journey, at least not until the very end of the game when their names are displayed, but you can get a feel for them based on how they move, how much they sing, and how often they wait for you if you fall behind as you float, fly, leap, and slide from one obstacle to the next. Before I circle back to all of that personal stuff, regardless of what you may draw from Journey, the beauty of the game cannot be overstated. The visual style is unique and breathtaking, from the way the wind moves the sands of the desert to an entire sequence that seems to take place under water yet clearly is in the open air. Life-forms made of tapestry float past you, ruins lean out from rocks with the weight of history upon them, and watching things react to the sound of your character's voice never fails to delight. Couple these visuals with the haunting score and keen sound design, and you have a world that may engulf you before you're aware of what's happening to you. I've been playing video games most of my life. I started on an old Atari 2600 back in the early 80s, and I've been trying new things and challenging games ever since. I've been racking my brain to remember a gaming experience like the one I had with Journey, and my memory is coming up short. Games have made me cry before, certainly: the death of a beloved character, watching a protagonist break down, that sort of thing. But for the life of me, I cannot remember a game making weep openly for joy the way Journey did. I wish I could tell you why. I would love to lay out the entirety of the experience to communicate why I love it so much. But I can't. I won't do that to you. I won't spoil it. You just have to trust me. If you're reading this, and you own a PS3, you owe it to yourself to buy and play Journey. It is a masterwork of game design, a symphony in digital entertainment form, an exciting and harrowing and touching story from start to finish that you experience not by reading, or watching, but by participating. For me, it reinforces my belief that the very best journeys, in gaming or in life, are the ones we take together.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Success is Repetition

Success is Repetition — Blue Ink Alchemy

If you're anything like me, you saw Chuck's post on the Authorial Sludgebody yesterday and resolved to follow his beardy, foul-mouthed example: pick up the pace on exercise and more closely monitor diet. Great! You might have even hit certain goals, like getting in an entire hour of exercise (be it all at once or broken into chunks) and avoided sweets or soft drinks as much as possible. Wonderful! Now it's the next day. Guess what? You have to do it again. This is probably the hardest part. Establishing good habits is much more difficult than falling into bad ones. We are creatures that crave comfort, and putting stress on our bodies through exercise is often less comforting than getting in just one more episode of Antiques Road Show or just one more deathmatch in Counter-Strike. But that weight is not going to leave on its own, and your energy levels won't raise themselves; you have to actively cultivate that habit. The more consistently you repeat a behavior, the easier it becomes to incorporate it into your daily life. Shooting to go for a run at the same time every day is admirable, but it might not always happen, and if it doesn't, what then? Skipping it simply doesn't work (talking from experience, here). You have to carve out time for it, much like you must for writing, or else the creature comforts with which we surround ourselves will start their siren's song. If you don't have a concrete goal with which to lash yourself to the mast, you'll be adrift in the undertow of leisure activities before you know it. This is a wonderful opportunity for me to remind you that you're not always going to get it right. I talk a lot about rejection and failure here, but we face many more defeats every day than just those from outside sources. We miss a deadline we set for ourselves; we break down and indulge in that taste of chocolate; we lose track of time and let some distraction eat up an hour we'd set aside for productive work. I will remind you that these things are not in and of themselves hallmarks of failure; they're little more than speedbumps and pot holes in the road to our success, and the best way to get there is keep moving forward. Keep trying. Try harder. While Edison may not be as interesting or as brilliant at Tesla, he did say something I agree with. Instead of failing 1000 times to invent the filament-powered light bulb, his philosophy was that he discovered 1000 ways the filament-powered light bulb does not work. If a day goes by and you miss a chance to get some exercise or writing or other endeavor in, congratulations! You've discovered a schedule that doesn't give you what you want. Sure, you might have dinged another level in your game or gotten another couple episodes of Pawn Stars under your belt, but tomorrow you can hammer out a different timetable, and maybe get closer to some of your other, less convenient goals. And when you find those timetables, they're easier to repeat, and repeat, and repeat again. Success isn't just talent. It isn't just luck or fate or knowing the right people. It's perseverance. It's resolving to keep trying even if it means disrupting your schedules, stepping out of your comfort zones, thumbing your nose at expectations. It's doing things that help you rather than hinder you, and doing them again and again, even if the hindrance comes in the form of a delightful hobby or distraction. It's repetition. So, that thing you did yesterday when you were all inspired? That calorie goal you met, that soft drink you refused to pick up, that timestamp you hit with one step after another on the walking path or treadmill? Do it again today. And tomorrow. And the day after that.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: The Akubra

Flash Fiction: The Akubra — Blue Ink Alchemy

For the Terribleminds challenge, Write What You Know, I decided to both fictionalize and sensationalize the car crash I was in.

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It's funny how your brain starts click on after it's been smacked around. First thing I get is a smell. Gasoline, or something more potent. Imagine that smell you can't get off your fingers after filling up your car at a two-bit gas station, then multiply it by about twenty. That's what I'm smelling. I blink, and as soon as the light show in my eyes is done, I'm looking out the windscreen of a small, one-prop airplane. I remember getting in it; I remember flying towards Cusco; I remember needing to sneeze. Pollen, probably. My sinuses hate that shit with an unholy passion. I remember all of that, the date, the current President, my name. I certainly didn't remember laying on my side in my Beechcraft. Normally if I'm sideways in a plane, I'm trying to do something fancy, to get out of trouble or to impress a girl. I'm not that flashy a pilot. It's never been a major skill for me. Not like the self-defense course I've been taking. But that still doesn't explain how I ended up nintey degrees to my left from upright in the middle of a rainforest. I think back, trying to remember how I ended up here. It takes me a second; my brain must have been rattled pretty good in the crash. My bag ended up in the window to my left. Inside are the letters I got from the British Museum and the Smithsonian, a few days of rations, my canteen, water purification tablets, first aid kit, GPS locator, a couple flares, some ammunition, good old-fashioned matches, and a map. It's old, laid out on some sort of animal hide - Druthers in London likes to think it's human flesh, but it's definitely not that, probably some sort of cow or pig hide. The point is it's a map to Huayna Capac's Tomb. I use the history to get my head back together. Story goes that Huayna Capac was taken by disease before Cortez showed up, which touched off a nasty war for ascension. His wife and closest friends, according to the tale, carried his body, that of his son, and a good portion of his belongings to this secret place to keep them away from the invaders. The US and the UK have already worked out a deal: if I can find these treasures, they'll spend half the year in Washington, the other half in London, occasionally getting loaned out around the world for a substantial sum. I'm entitled to a cut of it. If I live. I gather up my bag as well as I can, unbuckling myself from the pilot's seat. Getting myself upright is a bit of a chore. I look out my side window again, towards the ground. I see, instead of dirt, a lot of aluminum. The wing clearly snapped when I hit the canopy of the jungle. That explains the smell. Fuel is leaking, and that's never a good sign. I can't open the passenger door, with gravity against me, but I can wind down the window. The plane was made for low altitude short flights, not high-speed trips at high altitudes where you have to worry about cabin pressure. It felt a shame to leave her like this, after several successful years together, and after the trouble of getting her onto the freighter that brought me down here. But I didn't really have a choice. A part of my brain is asking me how I'm going to get out of the forest, but I hush it. One problem at a time. I reach up and pull myself out of the plane. Sure enough, she's leaking from her left side, and one of her engine panels is loose. I'm not sure if anything is loose in there, but it's best if I get out as quickly as possible. I'm turning towards the trees before I remember something important. I look back down into the plane, and it's up against the windscreen. I stretch out and reach, the tips of my fingers brushing the leather. I got this akubra during my first trip to the Outback, from the man who taught me everything I know about surviving in the wild and not dying to poisonous bites and my own panic reflex, and I'm not about to leave it behind. I hear a hiss from the engine compartment. That's my cue. I grab the hat, slap it on my noggin, and jump from the fuselage. I get about ten paces from the plane at a dead run before the damn thing goes up in a really nasty fireball. The forest around me starts catching fire, and I keep running. I don't stop until the fire's a dull red glow behind me. It starts raining; that should help keep the damage to a minimum. I check my inventory again, draw my revolver to make sure it's not damaged (there's no way in hell I'd bring an autoloader to the jungle - too much can go wrong with complex machines), and drink down a bit of water. I check the map, and pull out the compass I keep strapped to my belt. I'll figure out how I'm getting home first. I'd rather not get back to the States with only my swank hat to show for my trouble.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Self-Reflection

Writer Report: Self-Reflection — Blue Ink Alchemy

Courtesy Floating Robes In addition to Cold Streets, I've been handed what amounts to a writing assignment for work. Unfortunately, I'm not interviewing anybody cool in the industry or crafting an expose on something juicy, I'm writing about myself. It's self-evaluation time around the office, and it turns out that 'myself' is one of the hardest things you could ever ask me to write about. As much as writers tend to be a narcissistic lot, reviewing one's own performance tends to be difficult for me. I have a tendency to focus on things I do wrong in the course of executing my duties, which is also why I tend to get bogged down when editing my own work. Hell, I'm even having trouble writing this entry about writing about myself. It just strikes me as uninteresting. I'm not going in-depth about some psychological issue, talking about my fictional works, or recounting the tale of a trip to a convention or exotic location. I'm just rattling on about my day-to-day goings-on, and those are about as exciting as dusting your home or doing your laundry or picking bits of unwanted vegetables out of your salad. Hopefully I can wrap that Damocledian tedium up today and get back to the really important stuff in my life, like writing Cold Streets, playing more games to review, and preparing for PAX East.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report:

Writer Report: — Blue Ink Alchemy

Courtesy Floating Robes In addition to Cold Streets, I've been handed what amounts to a writing assignment for work. Unfortunately, I'm not interviewing anybody cool in the industry or crafting an expose on something juicy, I'm writing about myself. It's self-evaluation time around the office, and it turns out that 'myself' is one of the hardest things you could ever ask me to write about. As much as writers tend to be a narcissistic lot, reviewing one's own performance tends to be difficult for me. I have a tendency to focus on things I do wrong in the course of executing my duties, which is also why I tend to get bogged down when editing my own work. Hell, I'm even having trouble writing this entry about writing about myself. It just strikes me as uninteresting. I'm not going in-depth about some psychological issue, talking about my fictional works, or recounting the tale of a trip to a convention or exotic location. I'm just rattling on about my day-to-day goings-on, and those are about as exciting as dusting your home or doing your laundry or picking bits of unwanted vegetables out of your salad. Hopefully I can wrap that Damocledian tedium up today and get back to the really important stuff in my life, like writing Cold Streets, playing more games to review, and preparing for PAX East.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Space Shooters Return

Space Shooters Return — Blue Ink Alchemy

"War. War has changed." It's been a while since I've played Tribes: Ascend. While I still think the skiing movement mechanic and the unique weapons make it fun in the middle of the game, some of the periphery aspects of the game and its business model left me feeling sour. It's hard to stay invested in a game with ongoing development when you get the impression that the dev team cares more about producing super-powered weapons for an initial rush of cash than they do fixing existing problems or heeding feedback from the community. League of Legends occasionally has this problem as well from time to time, and while Planetside 2 can also feel like the devs have gone too far one way or another, I just can't stay mad at it. I tried a bit of the original Planetside back during my World of Warcraft days. A MMO shooter seemed like an innovative idea. Shooters tend to be at their most chaotic and unpredictable (which leads to fun times) when games and servers are full. Most of them limit the size of their games, with something like 16 players to a team. That's one of the main things that sets Planetside 2 apart: its scale. Instead of 16 players to a side, engagements can involve any number of players, and I've seen battles take place with hundreds of players swarming around a base while hundreds more rush about defending it. There are no NPCs or boss monsters or dungeons: all of the conflict is generated by players, vying for control of resources on a distant world. It would be very difficult to get any positive results without some organization, which leads me to the second point in Planetside 2's favor: the outfit. Like guilds in other MMOs, an outfit makes a huge difference in yielding enjoyment from the game. While there is a proximity voice chat feature in the game, I've found it's a great deal better to find an outfit that has its own voice solution, like Mumble or Ventrilo, to facilitate communication and organization. You can enjoy the game as a lone soldier following no orders but his or her own, but this can also be a lonely and confusing experience. In an outfit, you know where to go, can communicate what you need to the team or offer contributions of your own, and if the outfit is right, you can leave proximity voice for things like a teammate broadcasting music to put you in the right mood. Finally, Planetside 2 puts an emphasis on combined arms, from foot soldiers with various weapons to ground vehicles in multiple roles to aircraft. And all of them can be customized with weapon loadouts, perks, armor options, even camouflage and vanity items. This is the part that appeals to the theorycrafting portion of my brain. I find myself asking many questions as I pore over the options available to my classes. What's the best way to dish out a ton of damage as Heavy Assault? Is the Infiltrator better as a close-quarters stealth assassin with a suppressed SMG, or a long-range sniper with the best scope? How can my Engineer best protect the Sunderer that supports our advance? So on and so forth. I think it's these factors combined that keep bringing me back into Planetside 2. Sony Online Entertainment may not always strike the right balance, but with the addition of things like the Engineer's AV turret and the upcoming VR trainer for pilots, they seem to be moving in the right direction, which is more than I can say for some other developers. They've put together a game that makes you feel like you're part of something large and expansive, and for my part, makes me want to experience more of it. I want to keep earning certifications that yield more interesting loadouts, improve my skill at flying so I can escort our dropships or pilot one of my own, and I definitely don't want to miss the next time the outfit advances down a hillside, firing our plasma rifles as a teammate plays "Disco Inferno" over proximity.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: Total Recall

Movie Review: Total Recall — Blue Ink Alchemy

In the spirit of things, let me take you back to one of my better IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! entries, Total Recall. The temptation was to execute a remake of that post, as this movie is a remake of a previous movie (which is itself a Philip K. Dick adaptation), but I unfortunately ran out of time. You'll see why tomorrow, as it has to do with my latest theorycrafting obsession. There was day job stuff too, but that's boring. Let's get on with the review. Wait, what am I reviewing? Huh... I can't remember. WAIT! I remember now. Phew. I feel like a rehash of the plot is a bit redundant, but here we go regardless. In the not-too-distant future, Earth is in a bad way. Chemical warfare has done horrible things to most of the continental landmass. The well-to-do live in the British Isles, and everybody else makes do in Australia, also known as The Colony. Travel happens via The Fall, a building-sized elevator that connects the distant islands through a shaft drilled through the planet. Our hero is Dennis Quaid, who lives in the Colony and works on the robotic police that maintain the peace. He's having trouble sleeping and odd dreams, and to try and alleviate these problems, he goes to Rekall, a company that fabricates memories and experiences, and picks the 'secret agent' scenario. Before you can say, "Get your ass to Mars," he's taking out entire squads of police and running from his formerly affectionate wife as he is sought by both sides of an impending conflict. The elimination of Mars from Total Recall eliminates two problems the previous film had. First, it ensures that the overall story and especially the third act is more grounded, even if it is still definitely a sci-fi tale. Moreover, it presents writers and producers the opportunity to hew closer to Dick's original text. They didn't do that, unfortunately, but they did craft a story that didn't include things like off-world colonies and improbable mutants. While there's still plenty of trappings of futuristic life that might also work in Mass Effect, their implementation feels, for the most part, more realistic. This is a kinder way of saying the filmmakers axed the camp.
Clearly, Quaid chose the "Jason Bourne" scenario. The problem is, removing the camp and playing this story absolutely straight means that anything that is even marginally ridiculous all the more jarring. Without the pervasive feeling of tongue-in-cheek playfulness that's intrinsic to all of the work of Paul Verhoeven, the core of the film feels cold and remote. As much as the screen is full of slick technology, rapid action, and happening lens flares, there isn't a whole lot going on at any particular moment in terms of story development or the exploration of ideas. The one moment the film spares for the head-game portion of the plot causes everything else to come to a screeching halt, and while in the first outing there were hints and teases throughout both before and after that twist, in this version it feels more like a box on a checklist waiting for its tick so we can get back to the gunfire and CGI vehicle chases. In addition to lacking any real character in its plot, Total Recall from 2012 also lacks actual characters. Our hero feels more like a bland Jason Bourne knock-off IN SPACE than the put-upon everyman that Arnold managed to portray (and how embarassing is it when you get out-acted by Arnold??), Jessica Biel's character feels like a bare-bones outline of a character rather than a person of any dimension, both Bill Nighy and Brian Cranston are saddled with little more than a name and a position of either idealism or capitalist fascism respectively, and Kate Beckinsale shows some potential in being interesting in her switch from devoted wife to cold-blooded assassin but she's no more fleshed out than Miss Biel, at least in terms of character. At this point we have no serious plot points to speak of and no characters to root for or despise... so what do we have?
Aww, just in time for Valentine's Day! For all of its insubstantiality, the production values of Total Recall are rather high. The movie has a very clear visual style, its action scenes are well-shot without things like shakey-cam or confusing jump-cuts, and the implementation of the technology we see, from covert phones to The Fall itself, is far more interesting than the characters we see using those technologies. In fact, it feels like a lot of the ideas that made it to the screen were a collection of 'cool ideas' from the design team than anything that came from the original short story, the previous film, or any new ideas on characters or themes from the minds of writers. A few of the visuals feel geared towards "universal appeal", meaning they look like things born of futuristic first-person shooters, but hey, at least it's something, right? I mean, you can't just make a movie about nothing! Unless you're M. Night Shaymalan, that is. All in all, I'd call this new Total Recall competent, well-assembled, and it's not intellectually offensive even if it is somewhat empty. It is not, by any measure of action movie assembly or modern blockbuster composition, objectively bad. However, it also isn't good. This leaves it with the unfortunate and uncomfortable categorization of "average" or "mediocre". You can use whichever term you feel is more appropriate and hurts the least amount of feelings. Of course, if you think mediocrity is a bad thing, you can use far more colorful language. Stuff I Liked: The palm-phones were a really interesting idea that was well-implemented. Stuff I Didn't Like: No major plot changes made while the existing plot is pared down, no characters of any real depth or drive, an overall feeling of austerity and emptiness unseen since The Expendables. Stuff I Loved: I didn't feel strongly enough about this movie to love anything about it. Bottom Line: Total Recall sacrifices the camp of the original film adaptation for a darker, gritter tale that's heavy on a modern, universal aesthetic and some potentially engaging concepts while being light on character and charm. It's not bad by any stretch, competently assembled, and clips along at a good pace, but it misses some of the vital parts that make for a good & lasting impression.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Movie Review: Total Recall

Movie Review: Total Recall — Blue Ink Alchemy

In the spirit of things, let me take you back to one of my better IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! entries, Total Recall. The temptation was to execute a remake of that post, as this movie is a remake of a previous movie (which is itself a Philip K. Dick adaptation), but I unfortunately ran out of time. You'll see why tomorrow, as it has to do with my latest theorycrafting obsession. There was day job stuff too, but that's boring. Let's get on with the review. Wait, what am I reviewing? Huh... I can't remember. WAIT! I remember now. Phew. I feel like a rehash of the plot is a bit redundant, but here we go regardless. In the not-too-distant future, Earth is in a bad way. Chemical warfare has done horrible things to most of the continental landmass. The well-to-do live in the British Isles, and everybody else makes do in Australia, also known as The Colony. Travel happens via The Fall, a building-sized elevator that connects the distant islands through a shaft drilled through the planet. Our hero is Dennis Quaid, who lives in the Colony and works on the robotic police that maintain the peace. He's having trouble sleeping and odd dreams, and to try and alleviate these problems, he goes to Rekall, a company that fabricates memories and experiences, and picks the 'secret agent' scenario. Before you can say, "Get your ass to Mars," he's taking out entire squads of police and running from his formerly affectionate wife as he is sought by both sides of an impending conflict. The elimination of Mars from Total Recall eliminates two problems the previous film had. First, it ensures that the overall story and especially the third act is more grounded, even if it is still definitely a sci-fi tale. Moreover, it presents writers and producers the opportunity to hew closer to Dick's original text. They didn't do that, unfortunately, but they did craft a story that didn't include things like off-world colonies and improbable mutants. While there's still plenty of trappings of futuristic life that might also work in Mass Effect, their implementation feels, for the most part, more realistic. This is a kinder way of saying the filmmakers axed the camp.
Clearly, Quaid chose the "Jason Bourne" scenario. The problem is, removing the camp and playing this story absolutely straight means that anything that is even marginally ridiculous all the more jarring. Without the pervasive feeling of tongue-in-cheek playfulness that's intrinsic to all of the work of Paul Verhoeven, the core of the film feels cold and remote. As much as the screen is full of slick technology, rapid action, and happening lens flares, there isn't a whole lot going on at any particular moment in terms of story development or the exploration of ideas. The one moment the film spares for the head-game portion of the plot causes everything else to come to a screeching halt, and while in the first outing there were hints and teases throughout both before and after that twist, in this version it feels more like a box on a checklist waiting for its tick so we can get back to the gunfire and CGI vehicle chases. In addition to lacking any real character in its plot, Total Recall from 2012 also lacks actual characters. Our hero feels more like a bland Jason Bourne knock-off IN SPACE than the put-upon everyman that Arnold managed to portray (and how embarassing is it when you get out-acted by Arnold??), Jessica Biel's character feels like a bare-bones outline of a character rather than a person of any dimension, both Bill Nighy and Brian Cranston are saddled with little more than a name and a position of either idealism or capitalist fascism respectively, and Kate Beckinsale shows some potential in being interesting in her switch from devoted wife to cold-blooded assassin but she's no more fleshed out than Miss Biel, at least in term of character. At this point we have no serious plot points to speak of and no characters to root for or despise... so what do we have?
Aww, just in time for Valentine's Day! For all of its insubstantiality, the production values of Total Recall are rather high. The movie has a very clear visual style, its action scenes are well-shot without things like shakey-cam or confusing jump-cuts, and the implementation of the technology we see, from covert phones to The Fall itself, is far more interesting than the characters we see using those technologies. In fact, it feels like a lot of the ideas that made it to the screen were a collection of 'cool ideas' from the design team than anything that came from the original short story, the previous film, or any new ideas on characters or themes from the minds of writers. A few of the visuals feel geared towards "universal appeal", meaning they look like things born of futuristic first-person shooters, but hey, at least it's something, right? I mean, you can't just make a movie about nothing! Unless you're M. Night Shaymalan, that is. All in all, I'd call this new Total Recall competent, well-assembled, and it's not intellectually offensive even if it is somewhat empty. It is not, by any measure of action movie assembly or modern blockbuster composition, objectively bad. However, it also isn't good. This leaves it with the unfortunate and uncomfortable categorization of "average" or "mediocre". You can use whichever term you feel is more appropriate and hurts the least amount of feelings. Of course, if you think mediocrity is a bad thing, you can use far more colorful language. Stuff I Liked: The palm-phones were a really interesting idea that was well-implemented. Stuff I Didn't Like: No major plot changes made while the existing plot is pared down, no characters of any real depth or drive, an overall feeling of austerity and emptiness unseen since The Expendables. Stuff I Loved: I didn't feel strongly enough about this movie to love anything about it. Bottom Line: Total Recall sacrifices the camp of the original film adaptation for a darker, gritter tale that's heavy on a modern, universal aesthetic and some potentially engaging concepts while being light on character and charm. It's not bad by any stretch, competently assembled, and clips along at a good pace, but it misses some of the vital parts that make for a good & lasting impression.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Art on the Internet

Art on the Internet — Blue Ink Alchemy

There was a time, in my ignorant youth, when I'd say something is not art. Mostly this was related to modern art, be it the emotional spatters of Jackson Pollack or the austere compositions of Piet Mondrian. These days I know better: it's possible to make art out of anything. There are stories to tell all over the place, and even in the 21st century, people are still finding new ways to do it. The proliferation of the Internet has allowed more artists to express themselves and even encounter success in their lifetimes. These days, few artists toil in complete obscurity only to die before any of their works become truly recognized. With a little talent and patience, enough Twitter followers, and a lucky break or two, today's artist can launch a career with much more ease relative to those earlier days. And the art in question has the freedom to defy old categories and conventions, writing rules of its own. For years, webcomics seemed to be more like the Internet's answer to sitcoms than anything else. Even now I would argue that sub-par comics like Ctrl-Alt-Del are the Internet equivalent of The Big Bang Theory. But webcoimcs can and do break away from the joke-of-the-day format. Some replace scathing caricature with breathtaking art, and others look to mix media in ways that just wouldn't work on the printed page. Last night I was introduced to an example of the former, in the form of Unsounded, the tale of a brash thieving brat and her favorite attack zombie. It's more complex than that, of course. Ashley Cope manages to maintain a pretty regular schedule, and her tale not only has a clear narrative drive and truly interesting and complicated characters that grow and change, but she's involved in extensive world-building and giving us a unique and fascinating look at magic, making it more practical and well-defined than some other works. A great deal of time and research has gone into her world, and atmosphere and history seep from many of this story's pores. It's well worth your time to check out. As for mixed media art works, normally this would mean something is using both paint and sculpture, but on the Internet, you can mix static art, animation, sound, music, and user interaction to create a truly unique experience. I am, of course, talking about Homestuck. As much as Andrew Hussie's work has inspired a veritable legion of irritating and demanding fanatics, the work itself is bold and experimental. It can be difficult to maintain a narrative through-line for as long as this story has, and while opinions differ on the many and varied characters that weave into and out of the story, the fact that the story is still going somewhere and has something to say before the end makes the long hiatus periods and insufferable antics of misguided fans worthwhile, at least in my opinion. That's just two examples of narrative art blossoming on the Internet. I only have so much time, but I would also recommend Lackadaisy, Gunnerkrigg Court, Cucumber Quest, and The Adventures of Dr. McNinja.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Art on the Internet

Art on the Internet — Blue Ink Alchemy

There was a time, in my ignorant youth, when I'd say something is not art. Mostly this was related to modern art, be it the emotional spatters of Jackson Pollack or the austere compositions of Piet Mondrian. These days I know better: it's possible to make art out of anything. There are stories to tell all over the place, and even in the 21st century, people are still finding new ways to do it. The proliferation of the Internet has allowed more artists to express themselves and even encounter success in their lifetimes. These days, few artists toil in complete obscurity only to die before any of their works become truly recognized. With a little talent and patience, enough Twitter followers, and a lucky break or two, today's artist can launch a career with much more ease relative to those earlier days. And the art in question has the freedom to defy old categories and conventions, writing rules of its own. For years, webcomics seemed to be more like the Internet's answer to sitcoms than anything else. Even now I would argue that sub-par comics like Ctrl-Alt-Del are the Internet equivalent of The Big Bang Theory. But webcoimcs can and do break away from the joke-of-the-day format. Some replace scathing caricature with breathtaking art, and others look to mix media in ways that just wouldn't work on the printed page. Last night I was introduced to an example of the former, in the form of Unsounded, the tale of a brash thieving brat and her favorite attack zombie. It's more complex than that, of course. Ashley Cope manages to maintain a pretty regular schedule, and her tale not only has a clear narrative drive and truly interesting and complicated characters that grow and change, but she's involved in extensive world-building and giving us a unique and fascinating look at magic, making it more practical and well-defined than some other works. A great deal of time and research has gone into her world, and atmosphere and history seep from many of this story's pores. It's well worth your time to check out. As for mixed media art works, normally this would mean something is using both paint and sculpture, but on the Internet, you can mix static art, animation, sound, music, and user interaction to create a truly unique experience. I am, of course, talking about Homestuck. As much as Andrew Hussie's work has inspired a veritable legion of irritating and demanding fanatics, the work itself is bold and experimental. It can be difficult to maintain a narrative through-line for as long as this story has, and while opinions differ on the many and varied characters that weave into and out of the story, the fact that the story is still going somewhere and has something to say before the end makes the long hiatus periods and insufferable antics of misguided fans worthwhile, at least in my opinion. That's just two examples of narrative art blossoming on the Internet. I only have so much time, but I would also recommend Lackadaisy, Gunnerkrigg Court, Cucumber Quest, and The Adventures of Dr. McNinja (no, really).

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Art on the Internet

Art on the Internet — Blue Ink Alchemy

There was a time, in my ignorant youth, when I'd say something is not art. Mostly this was related to modern art, be it the emotional spatters of Jackson Pollack or the austere compositions of Piet Mondrian. These days I know better: it's possible to make art out of anything. There are stories to tell all over the place, and even in the 21st century, people are still finding new ways to do it. The proliferation of the Internet has allowed more artists to express themselves and even encounter success in their lifetimes. These days, few artists toil in complete obscurity only to die before any of their works become truly recognized. With a little talent and patience, enough Twitter followers, and a lucky break or two, today's artist can launch a career with much more ease relative to those earlier days. And the art in question has the freedom to defy old categories and conventions, writing rules of its own. For years, webcomics seemed to be more like the Internet's answer to sitcoms than anything else. Even now I would argue that sub-par comics like Ctrl-Alt-Del are the Internet equivalent of The Big Bang Theory. But webcoimcs can and do break away from the joke-of-the-day format. Some replace scathing caricature with breathtaking art, and others look to mix media in ways that just wouldn't work on the printed page. Last night I was introduced to an example of the former, in the form of Unsounded, the tale of a brash thieving brat and her favorite attack zombie. It's more complex than that, of course. Ashley Cope manages to maintain a pretty regular schedule, and her tale not only has a clear narrative drive and truly interesting and complicated characters that grow and change, but she's involved in extensive world-building and giving us a unique and fascinating look at magic, making it more practical and well-defined than some other works. A great deal of time and research has gone into her world, and atmosphere and history seep from many of this story's pores. It's well worth your time to check out. As for mixed media art works, normally this would mean something is using both paint and sculpture, but on the Internet, you can mix static art, animation, sound, music, and user interaction to create a truly unique experience. I am, of course, talking about Homestuck. As much as Andrew Hussie's work has inspired a veritable legion of irritating and demanding fanatics, the work itself is bold and experimental. It can be difficult to maintain a narrative through-line for as long as this story has, and while opinions differ on the many and varied characters that weave into and out of the story, the fact that the story is still going somewhere and has something to say before the end makes the long hiatus periods and insufferable antics of misguided fans worthwhile, at least in my opinion. That's just two examples of narrative art blossoming on the Internet. I only have so much time, but I would also recommend Lackadaisy, Gunnerkrigg Court, Cucumber Quest, and The Adventures of Dr. McNinja.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Art on the Internet

Art on the Internet — Blue Ink Alchemy

There was a time, in my ignorant youth, when I'd say something is not art. Mostly this was related to modern art, be it the emotional spatters of Jackson Pollack or the austere compositions of Piet Mondrian. These days I know better: it's possible to make art out of anything. There are stories to tell all over the place, and even in the 21st century, people are still finding new ways to do it. The proliferation of the Internet has allowed more artists to express themselves and even encounter success in their lifetimes. These days, few artists toil in complete obscurity only to die before any of their works become truly recognized. With a little talent and patience, enough Twitter followers, and a lucky break or two, today's artist can launch a career with much more ease relative to those earlier days. And the art in question has the freedom to defy old categories and conventions, writing rules of its own. For years, webcomics seemed to be more like the Internet's answer to sitcoms than anything else. Even now I would argue that sub-par comics like Ctrl-Alt-Del are the Internet equivalent of The Big Bang Theory. But webcoimcs can and do break away from the joke-of-the-day format. Some replace scathing caricature with breathtaking art, and others look to mix media in ways that just wouldn't work on the printed page. Last night I was introduced to an example of the former, in the form of Unsounded, the tale of a brash thieving brat and her favorite attack zombie. It's more complex than that, of course. Ashley Cope manages to maintain a pretty regular schedule, and her tale not only has a clear narrative drive and truly interesting and complicated characters that grow and change, but she's involved in extensive world-building and giving us a unique and fascinating look at magic, making it more practical and well-defined than some other works. A great deal of time and research has gone into her world, and atmosphere and history seep from many of this story's pores. It's well worth your time to check out. As for mixed media art works, normally this would mean something is using both paint and sculpture, but on the Internet, you can mix static art, animation, sound, music, and user interaction to create a truly unique experience. I am, of course, talking about Homestuck. As much as Andrew Hussie's work has inspired a veritable legion of irritating and demanding fanatics, the work itself is bold and experimental. It can be difficult to maintain a narrative through-line for as long as this story has, and while opinions differ on the many and varied characters that weave into and out of the story, the fact that the story is still going somewhere and has something to say before the end makes the long hiatus periods and insufferable antics of misguided fans worthwhile, at least in my opinion. That's just two examples of narrative art blossoming on the Internet. I only have so much time, but I would also recommend Lackadaisy, Gunnerkrigg Court, Cucumber Quest, and The Adventures of Dr. McNinja.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Flash Fiction: The Departure

Flash Fiction: The Departure — Blue Ink Alchemy

My entry for the flash fiction challenge Inspiration from Inexplicable Photos:

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She'd gotten as far she could before her legs decided it was time for a break. Martina counted herself lucky as she sat in the middle of the airport, leaning against a post, not a meter from a packed bench. People hustled and bustled past her. She caught snippets of conversation. Something about a performance troupe? Anyway, she wasn't in terrible shape. Her heels, not well suited for her flight but kick-ass in look, had gotten her from his front door to here without too much stumbling. This was going to happen sooner or later, she thought as she lit up a cigarette (what were they going to do, arrest her? Nothing new there.) and studied those heels. Good shoes and top-shelf booze could only keep her ignorant to the truth for so long. If anybody were to ask, it wasn't the women on the side or the gambling or the elbow-rubbing with bad people she minded; in fact, some of those things were what had attracted her to him in the first place. No, it was the neglect. Being taken for granted. Putting unrealistic expectations on her and then flying into a rage when she fell short. Martina thought back to one of the first serious conversations they'd had, after a night on the town followed by lovemaking on the roof of her flat. "I'm not housewife material, you know. I don't do well when all the responsibilities of home are foisted upon me. To me, Dragomir, a relationship's a partnership. We do these things together, or not at all." She blew smoke. It didn't seem unreasonable, even after two years. But the truth was that he didn't think it unreasonable. The truth was far, far worse. She glanced around, but couldn't see any cameras other than airport's little black security domes all over the place. She fought the urge to show them her finger. Most days she worried about who might see her, who might realize who she was. Not today, though. There was too much bourbon and nicotine in her bloodstream to facilitate giving a shit. If her father knew she was here, in this state, he'd probably be furious. That made her smile. It was because he'd be even more enraged when she told him why. Her father had been tolerant of her relationship, cordial with Dragonmir during the one dinner they'd shared. Even then, she hadn't put two and two together. But looking back, she could see through his mask. The bastard had been far more interested in endearing himself to her father than just enjoying the meal or assuring her father that she was being looked after. She looked at her heels again. He was always dressing her up. Every week or so, another club or event would require his presence, and that meant she needed to be on his arm, smiling and looking gorgeous. He wanted to be seen with her, to make sure others saw her with him, to draw conclusions based on how close she was to him. It wasn't as if her father was that terribly important. He'd taken a banking career into politics relatively quickly, certainly, and the paparazzi often sought sordid details on how he, not quite 40, felt about his only daughter being seen out and about at all hours of the evening. She'd learned in her early teens to dodge their annoying cameras and incessant caterwauling, and Dragomir did not go so far as to push them in front of those cameras. But he still made sure important and dangerous men drew the conclusions he wanted. He still dressed her up and brought her along to deepen and thicken his clout. He still used her. Martina threw the cigarette away. Getting to her feet was not as smooth as she would have liked. She picked up her purse from where she'd left it, pinned between the small of her back and the pole. The cash in her purse would serve her quite well. Dragomir had never been terribly circumspect in hiding where he kept his safe, and the combination was his birthday. She walked towards the gates, musing to herself that he might be handsome and ambitious, but smart was not among his qualities. There was commotion behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, and caught sight of him. Dragomir. His shirt was wrinkled and he had a black eye. Three men were behind him, all large and broad-shouldered, no long hair, beady eyes. The last time she'd seen men like that, they'd been in the company of some well-to-do man with all of the personality and attractiveness of an oil slick. She wondered what exactly their business was with Dragomir. But, again, giving a shit was beyond her capacity. Some of the performers in the lounge area accosted Dragomir and his big friends. This suited her just fine. Martina didn't know any of them, but she was glad they were who they were, just trying to earn some coin by being amusing or entertaining. It let her get a few more steps ahead. She pulled her ticket and passport from her purse as she approached the security checkpoint. She glanced behind her again. At least one of the big guys was dipping a hand under his jacket. She picked up her pace to reach the checkpoint. There were only two people ahead of her, and both of them got their pockets empty before walking through the metal detector. Martina grinned. One advantage to wearing a dress with no pockets was never needing to check them for spare change. She breezed right through, picking up her purse on the other side of the conveyor. She turned fully, seeing Dragomir standing there, a crestfallen and hopeless look on his face. His three friends stared blankly, two of them already grabbing him by the arms. She smiled brightly and said good-bye with a single finger. Next stop? Somewhere nobody will know me, or my father. Somewhere I can start over.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Ideas Unsolicited

Writer Report: Ideas Unsolicited — Blue Ink Alchemy

So Cold Streets is clipping along. I'm still waffling a bit on how to set up Godslayer, be it Lord of the Rings style multiple books or a large novel divided for the sake of narrative, like in Tigana. I have my eyes peeled for opportunities to write for contests or anthologies, and of course I'm quite curious as to what today's Flash Fiction challenge will be. But apparently, my brain is unsatisfied with these writing opportunities. I was in Barnes & Noble the other night, after taking the missus to Cracker Barrel for dinner. We were wandering around the stacks, after finding a couple novels of interest (Throne of the Crescent Moon and The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms) and a few other items. It was she who pointed out the shelves dominated by what was labeled "Teen Paranormal Romance", and we both noted how many of them looked like shameless, tawdry Twilight knock-offs. "Damn," said she, "you gotta get yourself some of that action." And immediately, my brain began giving me ideas. What if the girl's the vampire? Would that be too sexualized? Not if you write it right, obviously. But vampires are everywhere! It's got to be something else. Can't be zombies, either. Warm Bodies has that covered. Hey, what about mummies? Nah, doing that already. Werewolves! Tied into vampires now, thanks a fucking bunch Ms. Meyer... What about ghosts? Witches? Ancient pirate curses? Love-beams from space? Talking cats? I have to admit, I'm rather proud of myself that I didn't either take an awl to my temple or drink myself into oblivion just to shut the damn thing up. But as much as some might scoff at the fad of teen paranormal romance, there's nothing that says that it's any less a viable genre than any other speculative fiction. And if much of the output of the community there is dross and drivel, the opportunity exists to write something that isn't either of those things, that basically shows the others how it's done. Being the arrogant and narcissistic sod I am, this appeals to me. I want to work more on Cold Streets and get Godslayer nailed down outline-wise first before I add that to my plate, though. I know I should ABW, but I can only keep so many balls in the air at the same time. No matter what my brain might say.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

FNM: Walking After Midnight

FNM: Walking After Midnight — Blue Ink Alchemy

Art by D. Alexander Gregory The gates are open, and all ten guilds of Ravnica are available to players old and new in Magic: the Gathering's Standard format. This is one of the problems with the format, actually: every few months, the available cards change radically. Some previously robust deck solutions get the wind taken out of their sails, while previously unrealized options come to light. But in this rotation, something I didn't quite expect has happened. The field has opened up to allow some old favorites from a previous rotation to become viable. Last block, a card was introduced that I absolutely adore. It's not a planeswalker, a majorly powerful instant kill sorcery, or a creature with massive stats and fantastic keywords. No, my favorite card of the Innistrad block is the humble [mtg_card]Lingering Souls[/mtg_card]. It keeps emerging in my decks - Vengeance at Dawn back when Scars of Mirrodin was part of Standard, Spirit Squadron when that rotated out, a token deck in Modern - and there's good reason for that. It only costs three mana to cast, and having two flying creatures on the field at turn three is a powerful field position even if they're small. In addition, it has a flashback cost, meaning it can be cast again after its first use. And in an inversion of the usual setup of such spells, the flashback cost is lower than the regular cost. This means that in subsequent turns, the spell is even easier to cast, provided it's not removed from your graveyard. One thing I've discovered is that creatures cannot always be relied upon to secure a win. There are all sorts of ways to avoid dying to creature damage: big blockers, sweepers, gaining life, and so on. Some players find ways around this with direct damage, creatures resilient to being destroyed or capable of evading defenders, or some combination of spells to pull the rug out from under your opponent, such as in OMNIDOOR THRAGFIRE! and older decks that use dreaded "infinite combos". Like many tools in a competitive game, such combos are the sort of thing that feel blatantly unfair when you're on the recieving end of their shenanigans, but when you pull apart the mechanics, you can see the ingenuity involved and realize why some players may choose that route. Remember, neither I nor any other person has the right to tell other people how to play their games. Standard now does feature one of these combinations. Gatecrash introduced us to the [mtg_card]Vizkopa Guildmage[/mtg_card]. Her second ability states that whenever you gain life, each opponent loses that much life. This is useful when you include the new Extort keyword, but the last block's final expansion, Avacyn Restored, gave us the enchantment [mtg_card]Exquisite Blood[/mtg_card]. "Whenever an opponent loses life, you gain that much life." With both cards in play, and the Guildmage's ability active, all one has to do is gain one life, or deal one damage or steal one point for your opponent, and a positive feedback loop begins. This combo is not foolproof. While it's powered by an enchantment, which are very difficult to get rid of, the other major component is a creature. They're vulnerable, and if she hits the battlefield too soon, every turn is another turn that could see her getting blasted. Thus the ideal situation is to summon her, activate her ability, and set off the loop all on the same turn. This requires mana. Thankfully, there are ways to generate all of that energy even without green. The new creature [mtg_card]Crypt Ghast[/mtg_card] causes more black to come our Swamps, while alluring but deadly planeswalker [mtg_card]Liliana of the Dark Realms[/mtg_card] gets more of those Swamps for us to use. [mtg_deck title="Walking After Midnight"] // Creatures 4 Crypt Ghast 3 Vizkopa Guildmage // Sorceries 4 Lingering Souls // Instants 4 Tragic Slip 3 Beckon Apparition // Planeswalkers 2 Liliana of the Dark Realms 2 Sorin, Lord of Innistrad // Enchantments 4 Intangible Virtue 4 Blind Obedience 3 Oblivion Ring 2 Exquisite Blood // Lands 4 Godless Shrine 4 Isolated Chapel 8 Swamp 7 Plains 2 Vault of the Archangel // Sideboard 3 Sundering Growth 3 Ultimate Price 3 Nevermore 2 Rest in Peace 2 Chalice of Life 2 Midnight Haunting [/mtg_deck] The idea in Walking After Midnight is to have more than one win condition. One is our combo, and the other is an overwhelming force of tokens. The old, tried-and-true setup of Lingering Souls, [mtg_card]Intangible Virtue[/mtg_card], and [mtg_card]Sorin, Lord of Innistrad[/mtg_card] is the fuel for that potential army. To get either of these things going properly, we'll need mana (as mentioned before) and time. We get time by using the final portion of the deck: control. We exert control over aggressive creatures with [mtg_card]Tragic Slip[/mtg_card] and [mtg_card]Blind Obedience[/mtg_card], eliminate creatures or other permanent threats with [mtg_card]Oblivion Ring[/mtg_card], and [mtg_card]Beckon Apparition[/mtg_card] removes potential targets for reanimation or flashback. And the deck also uses the aforementioned Extort mechanic to equalize when necessary as well as setting off the combo win condition. The sideboard deals with more specific threats, and packs a way to set off our combo if the opponent has a way to resist damage or loss of life. It's not perfect, but it's resilient to sweeping spells, accelerates quickly, and if nothing else, should be fun to spring on people who don't expect it. How does the deck look to you? What would you change? How would you shut it down?

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Blue Ink Alchemy