Writer Report: Frantic

Writer Report: Frantic — Blue Ink Alchemy

This week was a good news/bad news week in terms of writing. The good news was that I banged out some work for a project I'm not quite comfortable discussing yet. I need more details before I do that! The bad news is, I've been working the dayjob too hard to do much else. Hopefully, the next few weeks will calm down, and I can return to a more reasonable schedule of things. You can't see it, but I'm knocking pretty furiously on some wood.

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Let's Give Thanks in 2013

Let's Give Thanks in 2013 — Blue Ink Alchemy

We made it! Another year is drawing to a close, and once again I'm taking a moment to stop and think about what I'm thankful for.

• I still have my dayjob.
• I finished a second novella, and so far, the reaction is pretty positive.
• I'm on good medication and seeing an excellent therapist.
• I am, and will continue to be, an Enforcer.
• My wife is blossoming into a fantastic artist.
• My writing is being sought after.
• I've got my health, a place to live, food to eat, and enough resources to be comfortable.
• My son is happy, healthy, and free.
• My family and friends are there for me in spite of my litany of flaws and errors.
• I have a couple of great cats.

I hope wherever you are and whomever you're with, you enjoy today and remember to give thanks, even for the little things.

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Movie Review: The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

Movie Review: The Hunger Games: Catching Fire — Blue Ink Alchemy

There are a lot of sequels in this world that do not necessarily need to exist. From movies to games, stretching a creative idea into three or more parts has become the rule rather than the exception, and it doesn't always yeild good results. If a narrative is planned from the beginning to have multiple parts, it can fare better, but each part must build on those that came before and expand in its own ways, instead of just treading old ground. At first glance, The Hunger Games: Catching Fire may seem to be a case of the latter - dystopia, arena combat, etc - but just a few minutes in, it's clear that the movie is both a continuation of the tale and has its own story to tell. At the end of Panem's 74th Hunger Games, there were two victors instead of the usual one. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mallark sold the media-saturated elite of the decadent Capital on their love story, but as they return to District 12's dark and dusty squallor, it's clear that the relationship is just for the cameras. Moreover, their act of defiance against President Cornelius Snow has sparked protests and uprisings in the other Districts. Snow asks Katniss politely to behave herself on her victory tour around Panem, but when that doesn't go well, he pulls the young couple back into the arena, this time with other victors, all experienced killers, with the notion that this 'Mockingjay' problem will sort itself out. In case you missed the clear parallel author Suzanne Collins was drawing between imperial Rome and her dystopian vision of the future, the visuals of Catching Fire is sure to hammer it home. But along with the Roman influence comes something closer to our modern age. Panem is a society saturated with and bombarded by media. The allure and spectacle of the Capital is meant to distract the people of the Districts from their hardships and toils, and the media with its fixation on celebrity and drama spread and reinforce that distraction. The thing about an exploitative system, though, is that smart people can exploit it right back.
The parallels to things like 'American Idol' definitely stand out. What strikes me most about Catching Fire is the amount of emotional nuance present in the characters. Facial expressions can be difficult to communicate through prose, but on film, any character can have a moment where a look or a gesture can speak a thousand words. From our heroine suffering from clear signs of PTSD to minor characters literally giving their all for the sake of what they believe in, the character moments in the film move us from event to event, rather than relying entirely on the mechanisms of the plot. Jennifer Lawrence carries the movie, of course, but she doesn't do it alone. I can't think of a performance that strikes me as bad or even mediocre, and considering that we have these strong characters being observed and possibly emulated by young people, it's a big mark in the movie's favor. If I have a problem with Catching Fire, it's that the process of adaptation has left several scenes axed that inform later scenes. Without this foundation, some of the events leading up to the climax can feel contrived, working out for Katniss more through convenience than anything she directly does. Despite the time the movie takes to have its character moments and expansions on Panem's nature, it feels at times like some of the story's parts are missing. I can't guarantee I'll buy it, but I wonder if there will be a Director's Cut of this film that fills in some of the missing pieces.
Plutarch is scheming. That's his scheming face. Catching Fire was the strongest of Suzanne Collins' books set in Panem, and it makes for a strong movie. With characters to empathize with, clean shots, and well-framed visuals, it draws the audience in far more adeptly than a lot of other entertainment aimed at young adults. It's smart, it makes no apologies for its characters being who they are even as we relate to them, and it defintely feels more like a true sequel to The Hunger Games than something tacked on to the franchise to make more money. While I feel like some of its bits are missing, the fact that I can't come up with any other major criticisms means the odds are definitely in this film's favor.

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From the Vault: Write Whenever, Right Now

From the Vault: Write Whenever, Right Now — Blue Ink Alchemy

I was going to write something about writing when you can't write (which I may still do), but due to time constraints I couldn't quite get it together. Here's a similar bit of advice from earlier in the year. Today I'll do a better job of carving out writing time than I did yesterday.

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Writing, as a creative endeavor, has a lot of advantages. You don't need special equipment to write - at the bare minimum you just need something to write with, and something to write on. You can write about literally anything you want - fiction or non-fiction, on any subject or in any style, you can even write about writing itself! And you can write just about any time you like. This is, however, the biggest potential problem writers might encounter. Delayed writing is writing that suffers. It's better to write right now. Chuck recommends writing in the morning. In fact, he recommends a lot of things that writers should pay attention to. But one point he hammers home like ten-penny nails your skull didn't know it needs is Writers must be writing. And the sooner you write, the better. Unless you completely shun human contact and seal yourself into some kind of bubble, things are going to come to your attention that interrupt your writing time. Spouse. Children. Chores. Tumblr. Any number of items that you are compelled to contend with vie for your attention, and you will not always be able or willing to resist their call. And you know what? That's okay. What matters is, you learn what works and what doesn't, and you refine what works until you're pounding out the words as immediately and completely as possible. If you need to get up earlier in the morning, do that. Gotta rearrange your schedule? Do that too. Discuss new divisions of chores with the other humans you live with (if you live with any). Stock up on things that motivate and energize you - coffee, Clif bars, Oreos, booze, whatever. Make yourself a plan to write more, and do everything you can to stick to it. Because, let's face it - we're at war. Time wages a ceaseless battle against us. Every day you're vertical is an act of defiance in the face of inevitability, even moreso if you write. Which means, to me, that every day you don't write is losing ground to the enemy. You can fight to get that ground back, but it feels like running uphill. It's more trouble than it should be. You do much better if you simply write right now. So stop reading blogs on the Internet, and go do that.

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Flash Fiction: Within the Church

Flash Fiction: Within the Church — Blue Ink Alchemy

For the Terribleminds Flash Fiction challenge "200 Words At A Time: Part One" - I'm curious to see what people make of this.

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"This is never going to work." The witch looked over her shoulder as she drew the pentagram on the wall with red chalk. "If you have a better idea, Father, I'm all ears." "Believe me, I wish I had a better idea than drawing these things on the walls of my church." "Do I need to remind you that you're the one that called me?" "And if my Bishop knew, he'd probably excommunicate me faster than you can say 'Martin Luther'." "He might react that way if he knew about all of the guns on the premesis, too." Father Benjamin looked up from the shotgun he was loading. "This is America, Miss Crenshaw. Everybody has guns. Even the clergy." "Those are the shells we discussed?" "Silver buckshot soaked in holy water? Yes." "Good." Crenshaw looked up as the pounding began on the doors. "I knew I should have started there..." "At least they're only coming from one direction." Benjamin worked the shotgun's pump action as he moved towards the door. "Finish what you've started. I'll hold them off." "What, and let you fight it alone?" Abigail Crenshaw dropped the chalk, drawing the silver sword from her dark scabbard. "Not a chance."

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Writer Report: The Long Dark Highway

Writer Report: The Long Dark Highway — Blue Ink Alchemy

To paraphrase a line from Terminator 2, the future is like driving down a long highway in the middle of the night. Even if you know your destination, the road right in front of you is shrouded, dark, and uncertain. When there's enthusiasm and hope, the darkness doesn't matter as much as the destination, and it's easier to do things like sing along with the radio or look for interesting landmarks that appear out of nowhere - generally, having a better time. But when the driver's tired, the car rattles, animals wander out onto the road, and the Check Engine light comes on, there's little a driver can do but keep their eyes on the shadowy road just in front of their headlights. I say this because I have no idea what's going to happen next. I'm doing my best to handle things day to day, and stay on top of everything that's happening. Cold Streets has been getting pretty good feedback so far, and I have other projects I am embarking upon, all while giving the dayjob as much attention as I can so details are not missed and communication is clear. One way or another, I will be relieved when this holiday season is behind me. Q4 is always a rough time at the office, and this one in particular has taken a toll. But I'm not going to give up, nor am I going to pull over. Too much is at stake and too many people are putting faith in me for me to turn back now. I honestly believe that I used to be a lot better at quitting things. In the past, if something didn't work, I'd give up a lot sooner and then wonder why I felt like such a shitheel. I've come to realize that successful people aren't necessarily more talented or more devious or even luckier than I am; they're simply determined and stubborn. And, of late, I'm doing my utmost to be determined and stubborn, as well. For me, there's no other way to see this journey through to the end. And as dark as the road may become, daybreak is coming. It's inevitable. No matter what happens in my little life or how dark I feel things have gotten, the sun will always rise again. If I can at least face the dawn knowing that I've done everything I can, I can face it without shame. And, at the end of everything, that's all one can really ask for.

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Looking Back to Look Forward

Looking Back to Look Forward — Blue Ink Alchemy

I realized last night, putting a few things together, that it's been over six years since I started blogging. Granted, it began in a very different form. I'm sure that there are some of you out there that remember a little blogging site called LiveJournal. That's where this - *gestures vaguely at the current blog* - all got started. Back then, blogging was more about catharsis and reflection. I mostly wrote about day-to-day activities as I would in a pen-and-paper journal. Some of the stuff was pretty deeply personal, and other times was incredibly, eye-rollingly inane. People do change over time, thankfully, and I eventually wised up about what I should spend my time writing to share and what should stay either in my head or on paper for my eyes only. Still, it can be difficult to self-edit. One can't always read over the words that have just spilled out and know for a fact that some sentences don't work and some others just need a little tweaking to really shine. That's why I've asked for test readers for my works to be published; that's why I trust the editors with whom I've worked and to whom I've spoken; that's why I never take the first draft of anything significant I write straight to a venue for publication. That's knowledge that's only come with time and experience. You can teach a lot of things, but you can't always teach someone that their shit does, in fact, stink. I've been thinking a great deal about failure lately. How I've failed, why I've failed, what I'm failing in now and when I'll fail next. Failure is inevitable; I'm not always going to get everything right the first time. But, in my mind, it's pretty difficult to fail at blogging. I think that involves having nothing to say but making tons of noise anyway (see: filibustering), terrible grammar or formatting, and an obnoxious site or personality. I still have posts that could arguably be called inane, and possibly fall into the "nothing to say" category, but I do try to at least make what I'm writing interesting to the anonymous reader. Taking all of that into consideration, I consider the blog to be relatively successful. It doesn't always get a ton of hits, and I struggle at times with maintaining the schedule, but it's still going. People do still come and read it. And all of it - from comments to contributions, from failed experiments with ads to the eventual end of IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! - has been and continues to be good experience. Thank you for being a part of this so far. I sincerely hope you'll stick around to see what happens next.

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From the Vault: The Disorder of Art

From the Vault: The Disorder of Art — Blue Ink Alchemy

Once again behind the 8-ball and in need of finding my groove, let me take you back a year to a post that you may find helpful.

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Courtesy Floating Robes "Apropos of nothing," asks one person, "what's the name of the mental disorder/condition where a person thinks his or her art/work is never good enough?" The immediate response from the other is, "...being an artist?" It pretty much is a mental disorder, as it fucks with your brain almost constantly. It can interfere with your concentration and focus, rob you of confidence, and point out all of the flaws in your work while offering no means to correct or improve it. It behaves like a mental disorder, but it really isn't. It just means that you, the artist, know your work can be better, and you want it to be better so it blows people away. But since it behaves like a disorder, let's treat it like one; instead of ignoring it or just throwing drugs at it (though they can help, and in this case, we're talking about stuff like booze for the most part), let's shine a light on it. Mental disorders are like obstacles in a darkened room: If you don't turn on the lights, they're going to trip you up and cause varying degrees of discomfort. Hank Green pointed out recently that creation is terrifying. We are taking something out of the safety and security and privacy of our own imaginations and thrusting it bodily into the world. It has to stand on its own feet, and while you can cheer for it and support it from the wings, the work is the thing doing the singing and dancing. Some people will love it; some will hate it. Is this a reflection on you? No, not really. It's a reflection on your work. There's a difference, no matter what your head might be telling you. But since our work is a part of us, born out of our imaginations and given life by our blood, sweat, and tears, that difference can seem negligible, maybe even non-existent. Instead of merely taking flight thanks to us, we can see ourselves as bound to the work, trying to fly along with it. We add our own expectations, hopes, fears, and doubts to it even as we tell it to take to the skies. In doing this, we bring both ourselves and the work down. This is why I feel it's important to keep in mind that we are not our works. Inasmuch as we are not our jobs, our furniture, our hobbies, or our khakis, we are not our works. While these things do contribute to our identities, they only truly define us if we allow them to. Just as our work has to stand on its own separate from us, we have to stand on our own separate from our work. You may paint breathtaking landscapes or reduce people to tears with your prose, but will that really be worth it if you're insufferable to be around? If you can accept that you are not your work, and that your work is separate from you and should be viewed differently from you, the fact that your work is 'never good enough' should become less crippling. Here's the other big thing that will pants this notion like crazy: your work is good enough. Now, I don't mean that first drafts and initial sketches are necessarily good enough for public consumption. I know for a fact most of my first drafts are shit. What I mean is, your work is good enough that you want to make it in the first place. If you can get past the initial idea stage to the point that you're creating a work of art, it's good enough in that regard. It's good enough if you keep working on it no matter how hectic the dayjob gets, how much you hate your boss, how many errands you have to run, and how many of your kids or pets get sick on the carpet. It's good enough if you want to improve it. It's good enough if you're eager to show it off to other people even as you're biting your nails in abject terror over their reactions. Paradoxical, isn't it? Your work is good enough if it's never good enough. If we can be mindful of the facts that our work is not a reflection of ourselves, and that it's good enough for us to keep working on and futzing over, we can overcome the doubt that undercuts and cripples us. I say "we" because I suffer from this, too. Mindfulness of this nature is, in essence, a lot like writing and other forms of art: it takes dedication, practice, and work. And we're not always going to get it right. Ever stub your toe on something in a brightly-lit room? It's kind of like that. But at least the light is on and you can see what happened; you can avoid doing the same in the future if you're aware of it. It doesn't really matter if you mess up; what matters is, keep trying until you don't.

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My Least Favorite Post

My Least Favorite Post — Blue Ink Alchemy

A bit about my schedule: most of the time I do my best to write these things well in advance, and set them up to publish in the morning, because that's the best way to get some decent traffic during the day. There are times when that isn't possible. Yesterday was particularly bad to the point that I was so put out, I didn't write a single word. I hate writing these posts. But it's important for those loyal and treasured few of you who actually read my words to know why there are deviations in the schedule I attempt to adhere to. Yesterday's was a result of a busy weekend. Today's is the result of what one might call 'crisis mode thinking'. I know it may seem like the most insignificant of first world problems that, on top of everything else, I complain and express concern over a blog schedule. But whenever I fail in an obligation, to anybody, I feel pretty terrible. I feel like I'm breaking my word. And that is no way for an adult to behave. Anyway, provided I can get back on top of things, and keep this rattling and cacophonous train on its tracks, we should be back to a normal posting schedule soon. I want to maintain Blue Ink Alchemy as a platform for my fiction, a place to review and discuss all sorts of geeky entertainment, and a forum for facilitating writing and thought processes among my readers. That's you guys. I wouldn't feel this obligation if it weren't for you, I'm always happy to post new fiction and new reviews for you to read, I'm glad I can provide you with free entertainment, and I know that your time and attention are precious things. I want you all to know how deeply I appreciate you, as readers and visitors, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. This is my lease favorite kind of post to write - the long-winded apology - but if you've stuck with it long enough to read these words, you are seventeen different kinds of awesome, and you should know it.

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Who Needs Sleep?

Who Needs Sleep? — Blue Ink Alchemy

Well, you're never gonna get it. As happy as I am with the outcome of this weekend, between JayCon and spending time with my family, it's painfully apparent I didn't get nearly enough sleep. I both failed to give myself enough time to tackle this week's Flash Fiction challenge, and did not allow myself the rest my body clearly needs. Today is going to be a long day. Flash fiction will come tomorrow, with a review of one of the games I played this weekend on Wednesday and a full report on JayCon this Thursday.

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Writer Report: Winter's Here

Writer Report: Winter's Here — Blue Ink Alchemy

We had our first snowfall here this past week. Temperatures have dropped and winds have picked up. Clearly, winter is on a little bit of a warpath this year. I've been trying to muster up similar motivation and dive further into Godslayer. It's something of an experiment, I realized, as I looked over my outline and carved out some character points this week. A lot of fantasy novels out there are perfectly happy to maintain the status quo of the genre and stay well within previously defined boundaries. I look back at old movies I grew up with, like Krull and David Lynch's Dune, and I see those lines smearing, if not disappearing. Why don't more modern tales do that? It's been said that writers should write the stories they want to read. And I want to read more stories where it becomes hard to tell if it's one genre or another. I'm not talking about radical shifts in tone, or anything; mostly, I want to emphasize character and theme more than ticking off the boxes folks have been ticking off since Tolkien's days. In other news, Cold Streets has test readers who are providing me with excellent feedback. I think I can do everything I need to do in one more pass of rewriting/editing, and then it's on to getting the cover art and other particulars nailed down. Sure, I may be a bit behind in my original schedule, but I feel like the end result will be worth the wait. That's the vibe I get from my test readers, as well. I hope you all have an excellent weekend. Try to stay warm, won't you?

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Let's Get Together

Let's Get Together — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm finding more and more that the games that I truly enjoy playing with other people aren't necessarily straight-up competitions. Oh, I still enjoy a good game of Magic, don't get me wrong. And Blizzard's collectible game Hearthstone scratches that particular itch while having a purchase system that makes you want to buy packs to both explore and collect, not just to "buy power" as you can in other free-to-play games. But with JayCon approaching, I figured I'd gather up the games I plan on taking which might get played, and I noticed that all of them have at least some level of cooperation. Both Escape: The Curse of the Temple and Elder Sign are fully cooperative, with players rolling dice together to overcome the obstacles presented by the game. Elder Sign is perhaps best described (if somewhat derogatorily) as "Arkham-themed Yahtzee". Players are investigators in an old museum whose exhibits are making it easier for some sort of horrific elder god to awaken. The investigators must gather the mystical signs and defeat monsters to prevent the end of the world. There is a ticking clock, and investigators have limited amounts of stamina and sanity. Escape, on the other hand, is a game played in real time. Instead of taking it in turns to explore the temple, battle its curses, and unearth its treasures while looking for the exit, players move and act as fast as they can roll their dice. The game comes with a soundtrack, which both provides atmosphere and audio cues as to when players must race for the safe room before losing one of their dice permanently. It's a great, intense little burst of fun and adventure that only takes ten minutes to play, and it's even fun to take on solo. I'm sure some people are tired of me going on about The Resistance: Avalon and Battlestar Galactica, cooperative games with hidden threats. Player cooperation is not so much encouraged as demanded, and the fact that one or more players are intentionally deceiving the others adds an entirely new wrinkle to the gameplay. It's entirely possible that two completely different levels of cooperation are going on simultaneously, all without direct communication, and that makes for a great time with friends who you may end up resenting because they were so good at fooling you. But perhaps the game I'm most eager to play (or play more of, I tried it out Tuesday night) is Archipelago. I don't have enough experience with the game to write up a full review, but the game is fantastic. It takes a series of various game mechanics - player bidding, worker placement, card drafting, and so on - and chains them together into a rotating arrangement of ever-evolving depth and complexity. From a relatively simple starting point, just a couple of turns in, the game explodes with choices and challenges. Each turn sees a problem on the islands that must be overcome through a combined effort of everyone involved... but not everyone has to participate. In addition to all of its other systems, Archipelago gives each player a personal, private objective. This could be as simple as having the most money or building the most churches, but it could also be supporting the natives in a war for independence. The fact that the players do not know what each other's objectives are, and can interpret the actions of an obstinate player in multiple ways, lends even more depth and nuance to a game that is already keeping several plates spinning at once. I'm very curious to see how the game players with more than two players, especially if one is aggressive and ambitious, or if one is manipulative and keen to whatever fears may be sweeping the islands at any given moment. Needless to say, I'm very much looking forward to this weekend. Be it rolling dice, dealing cards, or buying local beef to export pineapples to Europe, it's going to be a great time at the tables.

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Movie Review: Thor: The Dark World

Movie Review: Thor: The Dark World — Blue Ink Alchemy

If you look over Norse myths in their original forms, you can see why Marvel pulled ideas from its pantheon. The bombastic, fiery personalities of the gods of Asgard fit the hyperbole and spectacle of comic books very well. Jack Kirby's imagination brought these characters to vibrant life, making their designs colorful and outlandish. The film adaptation of Thor transitioned Jack's vision to the big screen for modern audiences, The Avengers brought these demi-gods into contact with the more grounded aspects of the interconnected narrative, and now Thor: The Dark World aims to expand the scope of its own ambition to make both its own stage and that of the Marvel cinematic universe that much wider. Thor's appearance alongside Iron Man and Captain America was no accident. Having reclaimed his birthright and gained a sense of humility and perspective, the son of Odin set about bringing peace to the Nine Realms, defeating forces set on destruction and trying to bring peace instead of the war he sought with Jotunheim. In Asgard's past, this initiative often took a darker form, and Svartalfheim, former home of the dark elves, was rendered nearly lifeless after the war that raged there centuries ago. However, the dark elf king Malekith survived with some of his followers, and awakens to seek a deadly force known as the Aether to help him have his revenge on Asgard. The perfect time for this is a convergence of the Nine Realms, which begins to play with primordial forces like gravity on Earth, bringing it to the attention of astrophysicist Jane Foster, who still anticipates the return of Thor. To defeat Malekith and save all of the worlds he knows, Thor must forge an alliance with one of most treacherous creatures ever known: his adopted half-brother, Loki. It's pretty obvious from the outset that Thor: The Dark World has a story to tell, and wishes to waste no time doing it. The film is front-loaded with a depiction of the ancient war with the dark elves, and much of the first half of the film is filled with dialog that is largely expository. Only the barest of connections is drawn to the previous films, and one gets the impression that the film's writers just assume that anybody seeing this one has already seen everything leading up to it. While it's not an unfair assumption to make, anybody new to the universe in the audience may end up a little bit lost. Still, it's good to be back in Asgard, and as much as there's a lot of ground to cover story-wise, the story that we get isn't necessarily bad. It just suffers from a little bit of a pacing problem.
You'd think they'd be more reluctant to turn their backs on Loki. The other drawback to being so concerned with checking off story points to make sure nobody's lost or confused is that character moments take a back seat. This is a shame, because this is a very talented cast with interesting characters to portray. Thor and Loki, in particular, have both grown and changed since the previous films. Thor is much more agreeable and humane, acting a great deal more like DC's Superman than Superman did in Man of Steel. When Asgard is attacked and the damage severe, it is Thor who argues with Odin for a solution that doesn't lead to more war and destruction, which is a clever reversal of their roles from the first film. As for Loki, his defeats have left him frustrated and malicious, but not in a monomaniacal myopic sort of way. Even moreso than before, he's a calculating and conniving character, deceptively charming and absolutely deadly, especially when underestimated. It's clear that Marvel knows how much he's admired by fans, even though he's clearly still an ambitious and traitorous creature. I would have liked to see more of these two, but what we get is pretty good. Once the story gets done setting up all of its dominoes, though, the resulting spectacle is undeniably fun. Thor: The Dark World feels even more like something lifted from the likes of Buck Rogers or Flash Gordon than the previous film, and it hits all of the right chords to provide that surge of excitement and adventure from exotic new worlds and epic battles. It continues the Marvel tradition of eschewing darker, more brooding takes on comic book characters, and maintains the bright and vibrant palette of the first film. Unlike Iron Man 2, this movie is more concerned with taking us for a pretty wild ride all its own rather than pulling together threads from elsewhere in the Marvel Universe. Oh, the pulling together does happen here and there, it's just mostly contained to the first few scenes of the film, and one of the stingers at the end of the credits, which incidentally makes me more jazzed than ever for the upcoming Guardians of the Galaxy.
Maybe if he'd had some coffee after his 5000 year nap, Malekith would've been less cranky. In the end, Thor: The Dark World is a success. It builds on the established worlds and characters of the first film, but does much more with them in various ways to expand the scope and raise the stakes. I would have liked more character moments and a bit less up-front exposition, and there was so much character-building and so little compelling story in the first film it almost feel like this one's overcompensating. However, this won't keep me from recommending the film. It's most definitely a great time at the movies, and especially after the story setup is done, feels more grand and exciting than the original. It ranks highly among the Marvel movies, and I definitely believe it's worth your time and money.

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From the Vault: Turning Negatives into Positives

From the Vault: Turning Negatives into Positives — Blue Ink Alchemy

How's NaNoWriMo going? Are you frustrated? Angry? Maybe feeling some despair? Read on. This might help.

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Nobody feels fantastic all the time, at least not without heavy drinking or severe medication. Creative people are, by and large, emotional and thus emotional blindsides getting hit can knock you right off of the rails you'd been riding towards the completion of a project. How do you deal with this sort of thing, other than reaching for the nearest bottle of hard liquor or happy pills? You use it. Instead of wallowing in the negative feeling, take it and run with it headlong into your project. If you're unable to focus on the project, write something on the side that uses the feeling. Here are some examples. I know I've covered using your anger previously, but invoking a Star Wars reference never gets old. Still, if something is making you furious, with fists and teeth clenched regardless of how other people are telling you how to react (doesn't the words "Oh, you're over-reacting" make you want to punch someone in the face?) you need to expend that energy, and preferably without damage to property or invoking personal injury lawsuits. If you're a writer, what do you do? Write a fight scene. Get into the headspace of a person involved in a barroom brawl. Hell, write about someone starting said brawl. Did someone say something to a significant other you didn't like? Is someone chatting up a friend of yours without permission? Not enough booze in your drink? Write about how it makes you feel, how the fury wells up inside you and how the sensation of wheeling around and letting someone have it right in the face touches off the kind of chair-breaking bottle-throwing grand melee unseen since the days of John Wayne. You'll probably feel a bit better, and nobody will be suing you. Let's face it. We're all afraid of something. It could be bugs, rejection, alienation of friends, cars, bacteria, being laughed at, loneliness... I could go on. The bottom line is, sooner or later your fear is going to grab hold of you. Grab hold of it right back and go dancing. Try a ghost story. Something goes bump in the night. You catch an unfamiliar or unexpected motion in the corner of your eyes. The lights go out, and the shadows seem to grow to fill the empty space. Do you start sweating? Does your hand start to shake? How fast is your heart pounding? What voices do you hear? What do you imagine is lurking there in the darkness? It could just be the cat. It might be your spouse in the next room unaware that you've hit the light switch. Or it could be a phantasmal fiend from beyond the grave. Write it out and see where your fear takes you. More than likely, it's not a place as frightening as you thought it might be. Despair, anxiety, paranoia... they're all cut from the same cloth. "Should I have said that?" quickly becomes "I shouldn't have said that," which leads to "I'm an idiot for having said that." Sure, sometimes you make a legitimate mistake and need to clean the egg from your face. Other times, something with good intentions turns out getting tossed under a steamroller paving the road to Hell. Whatever the cause, you're left with this cloying feeling of inner doubt and depression, and you need to do something about it, otherwise it's going to consume you. Time to write a walk through the rain. Rain is an evocative weather condition. The sky's the color of gunmetal, the sun or stars hidden from view, the rain cold and relentless on the weary traveler and the wind makes sure that every surface of the body is wet. Yet people walk through it, alone with their thoughts. "What if I'm wrong? What could I have done to keep this from happening? How much have I lost, and can any of it be rescued? And what the hell am I going to do now?" Write through the thought process. Describe the rain drops, the thunder, the looks of people cozy in their warm homes or places of business, the way others are ignorant of your inner conflict. Work with the emotions. Coax them out of the shadows and into your hands where you can change them from a disability to an advantage. No matter what you decide to do with your negative emotions, be it one of the above or simply focusing on a project at hand, the sooner you do it the better off you'll be. This is experience talking here, folks - if you're unable to shake off the darkness, if you let this sort of thing fester and grow unexpressed in your heart, it'll creep into every aspect of your life. You'll lose the motivation to create, you'll lash out at friends and family and the depths to which your emotions can sink are more frightening than anything ever put on paper by Poe, King or Lovecraft. If nothing else, talk about it. Get things off of your chest. Negative emotions are a lot like a badly-prepared meal you've just eaten: better out than in. Sure, things might stink for a bit, and you may feel inclined to flush afterwards so nobody else has to deal with your vomit, be it physical or creative. But once it's out, chances are it won't come back. I'll leave you with a bit of Emerson's advice, since he's far more experienced and eloquent than I. Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The Million Dollar Scholar

The Million Dollar Scholar — Blue Ink Alchemy

Back on Memorial Day I mentioned that while we remember the struggles, we sometimes forget the veterans. There are ways to avoid this, to show our support for those who have fought on our behalf, to tell these brave and damaged souls that we have not forgotten them. One of them is being organized by a friend. It is called The Million Dollar Scholar, and it's an effort to raise funds for the tuition of young men and women whose parents served as members of the United States Marine Corps. To do this, the Scholar folks are carrying heavy things long distances. They participate in GoRuck challenges, and the more you donate, the more they trek. Learn more about the challenges here. Give the fundraiser some thought. Consider this or other ways to support our veterans. Nobody returns from the battlefield the same as when they left. Some carry scars invisible to the naked eye. They deserve all we can give and more besides.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: Calling Test Readers!

Writer Report: Calling Test Readers! — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'll keep this short and somewhat to the point - the draft of Cold Streets is ready for test readers! As I work on Godslayer, outlining and possibly doing a world/character bible, I'll be interested to hear what people have to say about my next novella. I want to hit as broad an audience as possible. I have a few people interested already, but if you would like to read the manuscript over and have a hand in changing it before I go into the production cycle, please let me know. That's pretty much it. Happy Friday!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

What Is Relaxation?

What Is Relaxation? — Blue Ink Alchemy

I've been pushing myself pretty hard the last few weeks. It's a little difficult not to feel cut off from family and friends, at least in some regards, when I put myself in this particular mindset. This tension has been so pervasive that, even when a day goes well or a weekend offers plenty of distractions or amusements, I find it difficult to relax. I know that's what I should be doing. I know that the more I push myself, the more likely it is that I will either burn out, crash, or both. I'm certainly not in a position where that sort of self-sabotage is helpful to anybody. I have people that rely on me and I don't want to be the sort of person who shirks his duty or makes intolerable mistakes, even if I do own up to them when they're made. A pessimist would look back on my life and say it's a sorry, endless parade of one monumental screw-up after another. Even if that's the case, I'm not willing to give up. We are truly our own worst enemy. My mind is happy to try and make problems bigger than they are, or even attempt to create them where none exist. It's an unhealthy bout of paranoia, and I'm trying not to heed it. At the same time, I know that this undercurrent is keeping me from making the most of the time outside of work. This isn't to say that I blame work for it - I can't blame anybody but myself for a problem that's in my own head - and given my position and duties, I'm very thankful to still be gainfully employed. Let's just hope that continues. In the meantime, I will try to relax. If I can even remember what that means.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

First Impressions: The Wolf Among Us

First Impressions: The Wolf Among Us — Blue Ink Alchemy

Telltale Games has a lot going for them. Their Poker Night games demonstrate some pretty solid design choices, while The Walking Dead is one of the best storytelling experiences I've had gaming in recent memory. Adventure games, to me, remain a charming and underrated way of combining gameplay with story, ensuring our actions and choices define the outcome of what's happening in front of us. I was looking forward to trying out The Wolf Among Us, and recently finished its first episode, "Faith". The Wolf Among Us introduces us to the world of Fables. A series of graphic novels from DC's always-interesting Vertigo studios, Fables are literally fairy tale characters who live in our world. Having emigrated from their original settings, these legendary characters do their best to live among normal humans, with the less than human-appearing ones needing magical spells to pass as everyday people. They live in their own little corner of New York City, dubbed 'Fabletown', and order is kept thanks to an unlikely sheriff in the form of Bigby Wolf. He's our protagonist, but he's not much of a hero. In fact, in the past, he's played the villain most often. As the Big Bad Wolf, he's gone after and devoured pigs and little girls alike. However, that was the past. The character we see in The Wolf Among Us is much more reserved and far less malevolent, though he still has a surly attitude and is more than capable of beating down someone trying to put a hurt on him. He's trying to make things better, for himself and for Fabletown, so he tries not to 'wolf out' or abuse people. He's complex and magnetic, a great lens for us to experience Fabletown through, and like all Fables, he's very hard to kill - this is, after all, a character that once has his stomach filled with rocks before he was thrown into a river. And yet, The Wolf Among Us is something of a murder mystery, meaning Bigby must use skills other than his ability to punch people really hard. The combat in The Wolf Among Us is an improvement over that in The Walking Dead. Movement keys prompt dodging, the mouse helps Bigby use the environment or strike key portions of an opponent, so on and so forth. Prompts from the environment are also improved. If I had a complaint about the game, it'd be that the on-screen prompts from the environment make puzzles a bit too easy to solve. I'm not sure if you can turn this feature off or not - I'll just have to play again to find out! 'Faith' is a great start to this new series of Telltale episodes. Fabletown is full of great characters, who both maintain the aspects that made them timeless and present them in a new, modern way that smacks of a noir classic. I'm a sucker for the blending of genres in general, and this particular mix is right up my alley. I'm very much looking forward to coming episodes. The Wolf Among Us offers a 'season pass' on Steam for all five of its episodes, and you can get individual ones on the console of your choice. It's definitely worth your time to check out.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

From the Vault: Show (Don't Tell) Your Work

From the Vault: Show (Don't Tell) Your Work — Blue Ink Alchemy

This is a rough time of year for me. Doubly so this year. In lieu of the usual writerly advice, here's a tidbit plucked from a NaNoWriMo of yesteryear. Please to enjoy.

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Staring the month with a little advice. So NaNoWriMo is beginning and a lot of you out there are taking freshly-sharpened pencils to blank pages. This next month is going to be full of inspiration, frustration, erasures, crossed-out words, broken tips and lots of caffeinated beverages. I wish you the best of luck. Related to last week's post on showing instead of telling, I wanted to touch on something that came up in a recent edit. This will not apply to everything, mostly genre works or those rooted in history. And as with any writing advice, you may find it useful or you might not. But here it is. You'll want to show your audience the details in your work, without showing off how much you know. If you've done a lot of world-building behind the scenes, chances are you're practically busting at the seams to invite people into that new world. And in doing so, you want to show off all the neat stuff you have going on, from the retrograde rotation of the planet to the native people who are a cross between the Na'vi, red pandas and baby seals. That's fine, but if you front-load your story with long passages on the world's ecosystem and fauna, you're committed the aforementioned cardinal sin: you are telling, not showing. It's similar with historical works. If you want to do it right, you've done a lot of research. You want to make sure that history buffs don't tear your work to ribbons and ignore the thrust of your narrative because you made the sash worn by the second-in-command to the regional commandant the wrong color. If your audience might obsess over the details, it's to your benefit to do the same, but not necessarily to the detriment of showing over telling. Here, as with other expository writing, action and dialog will once again come to your rescue. It may take a little narrative positioning, but you can adjust your characters and their conversations in such a way as to convey the facts without taking away from the story. Don't just describe the historically accurate landscape, do so through the eyes of character seeing it for the first time, or perhaps who has seen it one time too many. It's one thing to put down the inner workings of your semi-magical difference engine on paper, it's another to have a scruffy engineer explain things to a wet-behind-the-ears physics wizard while banging on the thing with a wrench. So on and so forth. I hope other writers will find this sort of thing useful as NaNoWriMo begins. For them, and perhaps for you, this is the beginning of a grand adventure that may open the doors to a brand new way of conveying ideas and fleshing out dreams, and that's wonderful. For me, it's Tuesday.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

A Peek at Godslayer

A Peek at Godslayer — Blue Ink Alchemy

I may not be participating in NaNoWriMo to its letters, but with Cold Streets rewritten to the point of demanding test readers (more on Friday), it's time to turn my attention to my un-rewritten fantasy novel Godslayer. It doesn't count as NaNoWriMo because (1) technically parts of it were already written before November, and (2) since it's a rebuild-from-scratch of an old idea, it doesn't really count as a new novel. Maybe I'll have something in mind for next year. In the meantime, please enjoy the first 1,745 words (sorry, Chuck) of Godslayer.

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If he lost his concentration, he could die. Or worse, fail the test. Asherian bent his attention on the challenge before him. Feedback from a botched transmutation did terrible things to the human body. He did his best not to think about ruptured organs or spontaneously shattering bones. More chilling, he knew his master would likely return to check on his progress, more than likely before he was done. The shopkeeper must have known Asherian would be showing up early in an attempt to practice, because he'd been waiting for the apprentice by the workbench at the back of the shop. "This is lead, Apprentice." His master had shown him the lump, about the size of his thumb, before dropping it in the middle of a transmutation plate bolted to the workbench. That, at least, Asherian wouldn't have to worry about. It hit the center of the circle with a dull, resonant thud. "I want it to be gold by the time I return." Asherian moved his eyes over the circle's lines, at the runes inscribed within its curvature, at the bisecting lines leading to inner circles and even smaller ones around the metal. His hands rested on either side of the plate, his magical ability flowing through his arms and into the circle at the direction of his will. He could channel, cast, incant, all the necessary components for transmutation. He could even inscribe circles of his own that impressed masters and elders alike. But if he could not do this simple task, he'd remain an apprentice for years to come. It was his eighteenth year. He'd been an apprentice for eleven of them. It was, to him, long enough. This was a test all alchemists had to pass, and Asherian was certain he could complete the task. However, he hesitated. He took a deep breath, knowing how close he was to becoming a Journeyman, even as other thoughts tugged at him. This was a choice he knew he had to make, and this was the moment. As he began to incant, he felt the tug from the lump of lead. It resisted the change. It was a dense, simple metal. The reality of it, the years it had remained lead, pushed back against his intent to alter it. He focused more upon it, channeling more of his will, the tiny trenches in the plate beginning to give off heat. Repeating the incantation, Asherian felt the temperature rising, pushing away the sensation as much as possible as he kept his focus on the lead in the center of the circle. Moments that felt like years passed as the apprentice tried to overcome the natural resistance of the material. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the lead began to grow hot, steam rising from the lump before it began to glow. Asherian fought down a feeling of elation, knowing that even the slightest distraction could undo all of his work. Sweat was beading on his brow, sliding down his jaw. Time was running out. He left the incantations out and simply focused on the process, feeling the lead give way to the power of his magic... A drop of sweat fell from his chin onto the plate. At once, the circles flared brightly, almost immediately going out. Asherian, gasping, stepped back from the workbench with his hands raised. His breathing was ragged, his fingers twitching. He stared at the lump of metal, barely visible through the steam coming from the metal plate. "For a moment there, he was your spitting image, Alwred." Asherian looked toward the front of the alchemy shop, through the threshold to the sales area where his master did business. The senior alchemist stood just within the work area, another figure behind him in the doorway. Both men wore robes in the deep cobalt and silver trim of Tel-Urad. Asherian swallowed, inclining his head to the second figure, the taller one, the headpiece of his staff with its precious center gem marking him as the highest member of the Sorcerous Guild. "Father." "I recall working rather hard myself." Alwred stepped into the room fully, regarding his son with a haughtiness that might have been pride but could just have easily turned to disapproval. His cheekbones were high and sharp, underscored by his trimmed beard of dark hair. "But he has his mother's eyes." Alwred picked up the lump of metal from the center of the still-steaming transmutation plate, turning it over between his fingers. "I didn't know you'd be here." Asherian wiped his brow, nervousness filling his body with unwelcome electricity. "I did not want you to." Alwred handed the lump to Asherian's master. "Zaru, this is not gold." Asherian felt deflated. He sank against the back wall of the workshop and struggled to remain standing. "Hmph." Zaru scowled at it. "So it is not." "Tell me, how many of your apprentices have been faced with the lead into gold test, only to transmute the lead into platinum, instead?" Asherian blinked. Say nothing. Keep your thoughts closed. "They are close, those metals." Zaru weighed the lump in his palm. He was a broad man with thick fingers, and he disliked Asherian being taller and more thin than he. "And platinum is worth easily as much as gold if not more, for experimentation as well as trade with the surface." He closed his beefy fist around the lump. "But the fact remains he failed his test. He missed the mark. Overshooting the objective is not the same as striking it true. Such a mistake could be fatal in other circumstances." Alwred said nothing. He kept his focus on how he should be feeling in this moment of apparent failure. If this test is the end goal, it's not enough for me to fail. My father just had to show up, looming over me, judging me even more harshly. The transmutation plate exploding in my face would have been preferable. If this test is the end goal. His hands trembled, and he closed them hard until his fingernails bit into his palms. He fought down his anger and sorrow, raising his chin to the two older men in the room. "I will collect my things and go, then." Zaru blinked. "I didn't give you my leave." Asherian stared at him. "What?" "I did not give you my leave, apprentice. Failure of this test does not mean your apprenticeship with me ends. It simply means you must remain part of my shop a little longer." Zaru's plump lips curled into a smirk. "Did you think I would simply cast you out if you failed?" Asherian relaxed his hands. "The thought crossed my mind, master." Zaru laughed. It was a deep, resonant sound. "Are you so harsh with your apprentices, Alwred?" "The ones that need extra encouragement, yes." The High Sorcerer gestured for Asherian to come out from behind the workbench. Asherian managed to get his legs moving again, still finding it a struggle to let go of his frustration. His father laid a hand on his shoulder. "You cannot expect to pass every test that crosses your path." "I know, Father, but this test is the hallmark of a true alchemist! What am I without it?" "An apprentice, and my son." Asherian bit back any further response. His father's position was something that Asherian tried not to rely upon for special treatment, especially from the likes of Zaru. "Thank you for allowing me to continue my lessons, Master Zaru." "You have a great deal of promise, Asherian. Both your father and Elder Cahrn agree." "I spoke to Cahrn before I came here." Alwred still had a look on his face like he was appraising Asherian's worth rather than enjoying his presence. "He wanted me to wish you luck on your test. I did not know you'd already begun." "I knew the test would be difficult. I wanted to begin early, before Master Zaru had business coming through his front door." "And now that you're done, I want you out of my shop. You're sweaty and you stink of defeat. Get yourself bathed." "Yes, Master." "I will see you at home later, Asherian. We will discuss how this obstacle affects your future. I want to ensure that when you accompany me to meetings of the High Council, you are the best alchemist you can be. Which means you should be able to turn lead into gold without so much strain." With that, Alwred left the shop, bidding farewell to Zaru, who set about preparing his shop for business. Asherian watched him go before gathering up his staff and satchel. His training staff was as tall as him, made from maple wood gathered from a grove near the Magistone Wall to the north and etched with several basic alchemical circles in miniature. He'd gotten in the same day as his first focus, a simple copper band he'd slipped around one finger. It, too, had been engraved with alchemical symbols. The implements felt heavier than usual. Bitterness crept into his mind as he felt their heft, his mood coloring the shop interior a shade of red. While his master chided him for not getting the transmutation exactly right, the fact that he had not only completed the exercise without serious incident but also made the transition from mundane metal to precious metal would have been lauded elsewhere. But staying to argue the point would gain him nothing, and he was long past caring what Zaru had to say. He had more pressing matters at hand, even as he focused on his feelings of rejection to deflect attention from his true intent. The lump of platinum sat on the shop counter, as Zaru bent behind it to find some jar or other display. Asherian moved quietly, his fingers still tingling slightly, and waited for the right moment. Zaru mumbled and there was the clink of glass. Asherian's hand darted out and came back with the platinum. He moved to the exit, slipping the metal into his satchel. Zaru took no notice. As Asherian left his master's shop, he kept his thoughts carefully guarded. He was not about to put past his father the notion of a seer plucking them from Asherian's mind. However, Elienah had taught him how to guard himself from casual scans. He ordered his mind as he walked, just as his sister had shown him, only letting himself contemplate his plans as he turned onto the main thoroughfare of Tel-Urad.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Writer Report: NaNoWriNO

Writer Report: NaNoWriNO — Blue Ink Alchemy

Don't get me wrong. I know a lot of people out there are getting right into NaNoWriMo as I write this. I support the endeavor 100%, and I think it's a great idea. 1000 words a day for 30 days is a daunting prospect, but it can be done. Arguably, it should be done, because words unwritten for a story in one's head never really go anywhere. I just can't do it this year. I'm continuing to struggle with things like energy and focus. While this past week was a touch more forgiving, it still saw me spending a lot of time and energy during a compressed eight hour period rather than conserving anything for the evening or the following morning. There was progress on Cold Streets, but nowhere near as much as I'd like. I'm still not sure if I'm putting too much pressure on myself or if my struggles are in vain. I'm not really getting the sort of feedback that helps in that regard. I know the situation is temporary, and one way or another will not last forever, but right in the middle of it, it kind of sucks really hard. I'll keep trying to find ways to mitigate things, to make them better, to carve out more time and conserve more energy to make the headway I need to make. I know that I can't change anything if I don't make the effort, and I definitely seek that change. Things can and will be better for me.

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Blue Ink Alchemy