Returning to Flash Fiction

Returning to Flash Fiction — Blue Ink Alchemy

To say that things have been in upheaval lately would be an understatement. Things like "returning to a regular blogging schedule" and "maintaining a solid fanbase" have been something of a lower priority as I've sorted out housing, managed my barista schedule, and generally gotten more settled into this next phase of my life. How I got here isn't a happy tale, nor is it a finished one - but who among us can say that our story is actually finished? Anyway. It's been one of the longest traditions of this blog to respond to the Flash Fiction Challenge over at Chuck Wendig's Terribleminds. It shows up on most Fridays, provided Chuck isn't gallivanting around the country or writing award-winning novels. Even then, he tends to be pretty good at planning his posts ahead. Better than some of us, for sure. So a good place for me to begin in trying to do likewise, and return Blue Ink Alchemy to a regular schedule, seems to be writing up some Flash Fiction. I turned my browser to Terribleminds, and instead of a full-length post, 500-100 words, this week the challenge is to write a tweet. Hence this verbose forward to what follows! At 131 characters, here's how I contributed to the Tales from Black Friday.

The number of dead, trampled, and broken don't matter. The sale purchases do. And at 666, THEY will arrive. #talesfromblackfriday

You can see the actual Tweet here.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

From The Vault: Fan Fiction Is Not Evil

From The Vault: Fan Fiction Is Not Evil — Blue Ink Alchemy

Since one of my irons in the fire (more on that later) is now a fan fiction project, I thought I'd revisit my thoughts on the subject.

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That little piece I wrote yesterday for Chuck's latest challenge is fan fiction. I'm comfortable with that. I don't think there's really anything wrong with fan fiction, per se, and I've discussed it in the past. I think there's something wrong with it, though, when it's done badly. I know that fan fiction can carry a bit of a stigma. For some, there's a stereotype attached to it, which I will address. However, we've already established that writers are dirty thieves. Fan fiction is work that simply admits to said thievery. It makes no bones about being built around an established IP. And it takes a lot of the grunt work out of writing especially in speculative fiction. The setting, mood, nuances and themes are already established, all the writer has to do is give the characters motivation and voices. There's a market for it, as well. You don't even have to change the names or locations or structure of the established world, as Ben Croshaw did for Mogworld. Timothy Zahn, Peter David, Michael Stackpole, R.A. Salvatore, Weis & Hickman, Diane Duane - these are all authors who have published incredibly successful novels that are, for all intents and purposes, fan fiction. The fact that they have been sanctioned by the creators or even worked into established canon must only be icing on the cake for those authors. It's why I feel we shouldn't be ashamed to consider such works as viable forms of fiction. This doesn't mean that all fan fiction is good, though. Not by a long shot. The stereotype I alluded to is that of a lonely amateur writer dashing out a story in an established universe where a previously unknown character comes along, changes everything and escapes any sort of repercussions for actions that normally would have them dragged in front of military tribunals. The dreaded Mary Sue phenomenon can make people afraid to even touch fan fiction for fear of being associated with such blatant and odious authorial crutches. Most of the time, if someone is doing this to an IP, they're doing so while also making full-on assaults on grammar and even spelling. It's why some people will turn their nose up at the mere mention of the words "fan fiction." The thing is, though, nothing is automatically good or automatically bad just because of its associations. Oskar Schindler was associated with the Nazi party but was a good man. The Fantastic Four are associated with the same brand bringing us The Avengers but those movies were pretty bad. By the same token, there's no need to blanketly declare that fan fiction is evil or even bad. Bad writing is bad writing no matter what it's based upon, and as long as the criticism is focused on that and not its basis, I say fire away. Just take things on a case by case basis. Start making blanket statements, and the next thing you know, you're running for public office.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Impala Nights: Part 1

Impala Nights: Part 1 — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm not the kind of guy who likes surprises very much. I never had much in the way of birthday parties to begin with, but surprise parties in particular always rubbed me the wrong way. I mean, you want to celebrate my life by trying to scare me to death? No, thank you. It's really difficult to prepare for that sort of thing if your friends are any good at keeping secrets. And for a wizard, especially a professional one like myself, preparation is the name of the game. The old house creaks under my feet as I make my way through it. I whisper a word to light the wick inside of the lantern I'm carrying, and pale orange light spills out into a circle in front of my on the floor. It's something Bob the Skull helped me whip up, an old "bullseye" style lantern, with a minor enchantment that let me see ghosts and pierce minor veils. The word is that there have been a bunch of disappearances around the house, which is in a run-down neighborhood situated between downtown Chicago and one of its suburbs. It's one of those areas you just keep driving past if you know what's good for you. But when you're Harry Dresden, and someone pays you to look for their lost child in a place the police are unwilling or unable to go, you really don't have that choice. I make a face as the heat from the lamp starts cooking some of the dust on the floor and in the air. There's a musty smell about the place in general, and the sudden heat source doesn't help to abate that. I'm used to foul smells, but I wish I wasn't. I'd much rather be back in my lab, helping Molly do some research into her father's sword, Amoracchius, and trying to coordinate some of the activities of the Gray Council of which I was now apparently a founding member. I have a lot of things to deal with in my world, from vengeful vampire lords to ancient magical conspiracies, and this is taking time away from them. All thoughts of the world outside of the house go flying out of my brain, though, when I step into the basement. The world goes... weird. I feel off-balance, sick to my stomach, and get a headache, all at once. It lasts for a few interminable moments. Then, it's gone. I blink, shake my head to clear it, and raise the lantern to look around. The basement's a basement. Cobwebs, mostly empty shelves, creepy corners. I turn, and look at the stairs I just walked down. The stairs are collapsed. They hadn't made a noise. I shine the lantern into the threshold. There's just enough room for me to step back through. I do, and the vertigo slams into me again. Once I recover, I'm looking up the stairs I'd just walked down, whole and intact. My brain finally gets through its warm-up cycle and I realize where I'd felt those things before. The first time I'd ever used a Way into the Nevernever. This was different, though. The Nevernever has a very particular feel to it. Stepping through (retch) a second time, it still feels like the real world once I recover. I walk through the basement to the storm doors, up the stairs and out, and look around. It's the same neighborhood, still a Chicago no-mans-land, and nothing in my natural or wizardly senses tells me it's an illusion or a construct. It's real. Just... different. "I hate surprises," I say to myself. As if in response (me and my big mouth), a engine rumbles up the drive on the other side of the house. I stay low, and I Listen. The night's relatively quiet, with just a couple of crickets that were silenced when the big car, some classic muscle-style beast, rumbles to a stop on the driveway. The engine sputters to silence, and I hear two doors open and close. "Look, I don't want to talk about your anger issues, okay?" The first voice is on the gruff side, and clearly annoyed. "I'm not your damn therapist." "No, you're not." The second voice is more refined, collegiate, but also exasperated. "You're my brother, Dean. And you're the only one I can talk to about this sort of thing." "You really want to keep doing this? Huh? In case you've lost track because you've been too busy flying over the cuckoo's nest, we have a fucking Apocalypse to stop." There's a pause. "Then what are we doing here, Dean?" "The last place we stayed at said that this house is where people have been disappearing. Come on, Sam. Some classic, old-school monster-hunting. Just what you need to put that anger to use. It's what I do." "Yeah. And you're so well-adjusted." There's an audible shrug. "At least I'm not bitchin' about it constantly." "And that's healthy." Sam sighs. "All right, come on." They come around the corner, flashlights in hand. Guess who's standing there out in the open. "Hi," I say conversationally. "You boys lost?" I lift my lantern to get a look at them. One's tall, over six feet, with a lanky build, stylishly long dark hair, and a somewhat pained expression, probably from the end of that conversation. The other, shorter guy is built more like a boxer, all compact muscle and attitude, with close-cropped hair and narrowing, suspicious eyes. I know what they're seeing, too - the silhouette of a guy in a leather duster holding a bullseye lantern in his right hand, and leaning on a large staff held in his left. "Um. No." The shorter one's eyes narrow even more. His voice pegs him as Dean. "We're... just passing through." "We saw your light," says Sam. "We got curious." I make a face. One of those you boys are full of it faces. Molly says I'd make a good parent, with faces like that. I shudder to think what I'd be like as a parent. "Well, then, you can keep passing. This isn't something you guys want to be involved in." "Really?" Sam looks incredulous. I don't blame him - I would, too. "Really. There are monsters out here. Ghosts, at the very least." Dean nods in my direction, smirking. I can smell the smartass comment coming before he speaks. "So you, ah, watch that Ghostfacers show?" "I don't own a TV," I say. "All I know is, I walked out of that basement in a city that isn't mine, with my car nowhere in sight, and Goofus and Gallant rolling up here talking about the Apolcalypse." The young men stare at me. "So," I continue into the silence. "How about you leave the monster-hunting business to the professional wizard, get back in your car, and drive on down the road." "Wizard," Dean repeated. "So... you're a he-witch?" I blink. "A what?" Dean doesn't let me clarify further. Instead, he shoots me. DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Dresden and all attendant characters, locations, and creatures are property of Jim Butcher. Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and all attendant characters, locations, and creatures are property of Supernatural. Please support the official releases of both properties.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Impala Nights: Part 1

Impala Nights: Part 1 — Blue Ink Alchemy

I'm not the kind of guy who likes surprises very much. I never had much in the way of birthday parties to begin with, but surprise parties in particular always rubbed me the wrong way. I mean, you want to celebrate my life by trying to scare me to death? No, thank you. It's really difficult to prepare for that sort of thing if your friends are any good at keeping secrets. And for a wizard, especially a professional one like myself, preparation is the name of the game. The old house creaks under my feet as I make my way through it. I whisper a word to light the wick inside of the lantern I'm carrying, and pale orange light spills out into a circle in front of my on the floor. It's something Bob the Skull helped me whip up, an old "bullseye" style lantern, with a minor enchantment that let me see ghosts and pierce minor veils. The word is that there have been a bunch of disappearances around the house, which is in a run-down neighborhood situated between downtown Chicago and one of its suburbs. It's one of those areas you just keep driving past if you know what's good for you. But when you're Harry Dresden, and someone pays you to look for their lost child in a place the police are unwilling or unable to go, you really don't have that choice. I make a face as the heat from the lamp starts cooking some of the dust on the floor and in the air. There's a musty smell about the place in general, and the sudden heat source doesn't help to abate that. I'm used to foul smells, but I wish I wasn't. I'd much rather be back in my lab, helping Molly do some research into her father's sword, Amoracchius, and trying to coordinate some of the activities of the Gray Council of which I was now apparently a founding member. I have a lot of things to deal with in my world, from vengeful vampire lords to ancient magical conspiracies, and this is taking time away from them. All thoughts of the world outside of the house go flying out of my brain, though, when I step into the basement. The world goes... weird. I feel off-balance, sick to my stomach, and get a headache, all at once. It lasts for a few interminable moments. Then, it's gone. I blink, shake my head to clear it, and raise the lantern to look around. The basement's a basement. Cobwebs, mostly empty shelves, creepy corners. I turn, and look at the stairs I just walked down. The stairs are collapsed. They hadn't made a noise. I shine the lantern into the threshold. There's just enough room for me to step back through. I do, and the vertigo slams into me again. Once I recover, I'm looking up the stairs I'd just walked down, whole and intact. My brain finally gets through its warm-up cycle and I realize where I'd felt those things before. The first time I'd ever used a Way into the Nevernever. This was different, though. The Nevernever has a very particular feel to it. Stepping through (retch) a second time, it still feels like the real world once I recover. I walk through the basement to the storm doors, up the stairs and out, and look around. It's the same neighborhood, still a Chicago no-mans-land, and nothing in my natural or wizardly senses tells me it's an illusion or a construct. It's real. Just... different. "I hate surprises," I say to myself. As if in response (me and my big mouth), a engine rumbles up the drive on the other side of the house. I stay low, and I Listen. The night's relatively quiet, with just a couple of crickets that were silenced when the big car, some classic muscle-style beast, rumbles to a stop on the driveway. The engine sputters to silence, and I hear two doors open and close. "Look, I don't want to talk about your anger issues, okay?" The first voice is on the gruff side, and clearly annoyed. "I'm not your damn therapist." "No, you're not." The second voice is more refined, collegiate, but also exasperated. "You're my brother, Dean. And you're the only one I can talk to about this sort of thing." "You really want to keep doing this? Huh? In case you've lost track because you've been too busy flying over the cuckoo's nest, we have a fucking Apocalypse to stop." There's a pause. "Then what are we doing here, Dean?" "The last place we stayed at said that this house is where people have been disappearing. Come on, Sam. Some classic, old-school monster-hunting. Just what you need to put that anger to use. It's what I do." "Yeah. And you're so well-adjusted." There's an audible shrug. "At least I'm not bitchin' about it constantly." "And that's healthy." Sam sighs. "All right, come on." They come around the corner, flashlights in hand. Guess who's standing there out in the open. "Hi," I say conversationally. "You boys lost?" I lift my lantern to get a look at them. One's tall, over six feet, with a lanky build, stylishly long dark hair, and a somewhat pained expression, probably from the end of that conversation. The other, shorter guy is built more like a boxer, all compact muscle and attitude, with close-cropped hair and narrowing, suspicious eyes. I know what they're seeing, too - the silhouette of a guy in a leather duster holding a bullseye lantern in his right hand, and leaning on a large staff held in his left. "Um. No." The shorter one's eyes narrow even more. His voice pegs him as Dean. "We're... just passing through." "We saw your light," says Sam. "We got curious." I make a face. One of those you boys are full of it faces. Molly says I'd make a good parent, with faces like that. I shudder to think what I'd be like as a parent. "Well, then, you can keep passing. This isn't something you guys want to be involved in." "Really?" Sam looks incredulous. I don't blame him - I would, too. "Really. There are monsters out here. Ghosts, at the very least." Dean nods in my direction, smirking. I can smell the smartass comment coming before he speaks. "So you, ah, watch that Ghostfacers show?" "I don't own a TV," I say. "All I know is, I walked out of that basement in a city that isn't mine, with my car nowhere in sight, and Goofus and Gallant rolling up here talking about the Apolcalypse." The young men stare at me. "So," I continue into the silence. "How about you leave the monster-hunting business to the professional wizard, get back in your car, and drive on down the road." "Wizard," Dean repeated. "So... you're a he-witch?" I blink. "A what?" Dean doesn't let me clarify further. Instead, he shoots me.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Self-Care For Artistic Types

Self-Care For Artistic Types — Blue Ink Alchemy

This is for those of you out there trying to create something new. Bucking trends. Swimming upstream. Letting your dreams come to life through one medium or another. You're making art. Good. Please take care of yourself. I know, I know. Pot, kettle. I've been struggling with self-care, myself. Seeing therapists, taking medication, working through issues through journaling and my Innercom Chatter project (more on that as it develops), allowing myself breaks and celebrating minor victories. Unfortunately, I have not done things like eat regular meals, get more exercise, stick to my vegan path as much as I'd like, or remain in strong communication with friends. I mean, I'm not shutting myself off, but I'm not exactly being outgoing and gregarious either. It's usually an invitation from a friend that gets me out, not me seeking to be around friends. It's a narrow distinction. Anyway. Self-care is a thing you should be doing. Whether you're caught up in creating, berating yourself for not creating enough, or hating whatever it is you've created, remind yourself that it's okay. You're only human. You're allowed to give yourself some breathing room, take breaks, and breathe, for crying out loud. It's something I need to remind myself of every day, and yes, some days are better than others. That'll be the way for you, too. Just remember that you're worth taking care of. And, at the end of the day, the best and most reliable person you have to take care of you is you. Two cents from the edge.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

I Am Not Okay

I Am Not Okay — Blue Ink Alchemy

"Everything is terrible and nothing is not on fire." I'm sure most of the people who read this know, but for those of you don't, I've been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. This consists of cycling between two modes of thought and mood: depression and mania. In my case, as my disorder is less severe than others, the opposite of depression for me is "hypomania". While other factors may cause me to cycle rapidly between different moods - my case worker calls this "emotional reactivity" and suggests it's different from bipolar - the depressive state and the hypomanic state are different baselines. I am very aware of when I'm depressed. Hypomanic, less so. Over the past week or so, I have had a hypomanic episode. Maniacs do highly obvious and out-of-character things when they are in the throes of an episode. Hypomania is more subtle, and in that way, more destructive. Hypomania is unrestrained energy and attachment to joyous, uplifting, or simply distracting things. It's a tendency to spend more money than one really should, losing track of budgets, and accruing debt. It's ignoring self-care in favor of being out, having fun, and indulging in pleasures, vices, and ultimately self-destructive behaviors which are also damaging to others. The problem is, these things are fun, and in the midst of an episode, I feel happy. Please understand that, as I write this, I do not consider it an excuse for my behavior, or for decisions I've made. This is an explanation. Like the discovery of motive during a criminal trial, my realization of the episode explains some of the poor decisions I've made. Those decisions were still made by me, and I must accept responsibility for them and deal with their consequences. It's more than making apologies and admitting I've fucked up. It is making an active effort to do better, act better, be better. It begins with admitting that I am not okay. My instinct is to run away from things. To cut ties with the people I've hurt and go into radio silence. To push away those who care about me. To crawl into a hole and pull it closed after me. But what would that change? How would that help me and, more importantly, people I've hurt? The answer is that it wouldn't. These things are knee-jerk reactions caused by swinging back downwards into depression. I need help. I must discuss with professionals ways to be more aware of swings into hypomania, if there is medication to give my mental state a "ceiling", and what else I can do to establish a balanced mental baseline. I am already on medication, mood stabilizers, to mitigate some of the swings. However, since my baseline is typically low (I stay depressed for months and this hypomanic episode was a mere few days) I need to find ways to raise it. In the meantime, I need to return to more focused, more active self-care. Cleaning up my messes. Sleeping more. Eating. Looking myself in the mirror and knowing that I won't like what I see. I neither expect nor demand help from my friends. Professionals, yes. Friends, no. I have some great people in my life who will want to help and give advice. I'll accept what I'm given but I won't make a habit of asking. The last thing I want is to cause further discomfort or give the impression I'm using any of the above to manipulate the situation in my favor. I'm not a con man. This is not a game. This is damage control. I am not okay. And I won't be okay until I deal with this aspect of my issues, first and foremost, before anybody else gets hurt. So I'm going to do that.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

We'll Never Be Royals

We'll Never Be Royals — Blue Ink Alchemy

"You should write about all of this," my father suggested. "And then write a book about it." He's referring to some of the recent events in my life. Things that have changed it forever. Events have occurred that are forcing me to put the brakes on a lot of the interests and intentions that have kind of existed on autopilot for years, and peel them apart so I can hold on to what makes sense for me as an individual, and discard what gets in my way and does harm to others. I have a problem with writing a book about it, though. For one, I'm a novelist. I don't do as well with non-fiction. I feel like I either come across too dry or make something too anecdotal or conversational. Which leads to the other, bigger problem. I'm not noble. My fear is that, in conveying the events of my life up to this point and the path I have ahead of me that I must travel, I'll come across as some kind of hero or saint. That I will lionize myself while demonizing the people who have influenced my life. Honestly, there's nothing heroic or even all that brave about what I'm doing. It's necessary, hard, thankless work. And the people who have influenced me certainly don't feel I'm doing anything extraordinary, as this is work that's needed doing for a long time. I'm not royalty, and I never will be. A big part of the work I need to do is removing the romantic ideal from my perspective of my story. I am my own protagonist, sure, but I'm no hero. I'm not somehow morally or ethically sacrosanct. I'm human. I'm flawed. I've fucked up. I've hurt people. There are very few people that haven't. It's nice to imagine, to write about, to witness. Paragons of virtue doing battle with the forces of darkness. We thrill to those stories. We become a part of them. We act out those fantasies. We make them apart of our lives. But that isn't the truth. And trying to make it that way is folly. That's why I shy from writing a book about what I'm going through, what I've been through, and what's ahead. My life is a broken, irregular trail of broken hearts, damaged souls, and shattered dreams. It isn't anything to be celebrated or idolized. I am not your fucking inspiration porn. I mean, if you draw some meaning or hope from everything I relate, that's awesome. Use it. Learn from it. But putting myself out there as some sort of guru smacks of hypocrisy. I will not do it. I will not be one of those falsely smiling faces you see in the Inspiration section of a bookstore. There are other authors willing to do that. I ain't one of them. I write about witches, wizards, fallen heroes, magnificent bastards, heartache, monsters, darkness, and despair. And somewhere in there, maybe, I might convey some compassion. Inspiration. Determination. Hope. Just don't look for it in non-fiction. We write about the royals that we will never be.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The Aftermath Review: Let Go Of Your Hatred

The Aftermath Review: Let Go Of Your Hatred — Blue Ink Alchemy

There are a lot of people out there who don't, and won't, like this book. I'm pretty sure I know why, and it has nothing to do with the plot or characters of Aftermath: Star Wars. It has to do with the book's very existence. You see, Aftermath, written by Chuck Wendig, takes place between the end of the original trilogy of films, Return of the Jedi, and the upcoming JJ Abrams addition to the franchise, The Force Awakens. It chronicles the effect of the fall of the Empire's leadership and the loss of the second Death Star on one of the far-flung worlds in the galaxy, and how its people struggle against an Empire that refuses to surrender or fade into the night. I won't go into laborious detail about it, because in the end equation, it's not anything terribly original. Oh, the characters fill out their roles quite well, coming across more like people and less like cardboard cut-outs, and the use of present tense keeps the action well-paced and immediate rather than getting bogged down in exposition or pontification. For what it's worth, Chuck does what Chuck does best: punchy dialog that doesn't mess around, Hemingway-esque connective prose that's just as short and to-the-point, and just enough intrigue and provocative ideas to keep the action from feeling too shallow or the characters too weak. For the record, I don't think this book as quite as good as some of Chuck's other work, such as Blackbirds or The Blue Blazes. Merely my opinion. BUT. The point is that, as Star Wars novels go, this is a good one. While it doesn't quite have the grandiosity of Timothy Zahn's works or the space swashbuckling of Michael A. Stackpole, it also doesn't suffer from the byzantine structures of the old expanded universe. And that's a big part of the reason why people hate it so much. They might say negative things about the plot or characters, but I cannot imagine that a large portion of the negative reactions come from a biased perspective. While I may be biased towards Wendig's writing in general, I am also a long-time Star Wars fan, and I mourned the loss of Zahn's trilogy and the exploits of Rogue Squadron when it was announced that the old canon was being ejected. It hurt, to be honest. But things change. And we move on. In the end, you really can't ask for a better bridge than the writing of Wendig, both between the two films and the old EU and the new. It does its job, workman-like, moving the story towards its ultimate destination and using enough familiar faces to acclimate open-minded readers to a universe both old and new. All we have to do is let go of our hatred of change and the unfamiliar. Much like a black stormtrooper, a three-bladed lightsaber, or a woman in shining armor, change is good even if it seems strange or unnecessary, and it is up to us to embrace it and see where the new journey takes us. Anything less cheapens our beloved stories, derides the creative endeavors of people like Wendig, and makes us look foolish and childish. Do better, Star Wars fans. Be better. Let go of your hate.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The Aftermath Review: Let Go Of Your Hatred

The Aftermath Review: Let Go Of Your Hatred — Blue Ink Alchemy

There are a lot of people out there who don't, and won't, like this book. I'm pretty sure I know why, and it has nothing to do with the plot or characters of Aftermath: Star Wars. It has to do with the book's very existence. You see, Aftermath, written by Chuck Wendig, takes place between the end of the original trilogy of films, Return of the Jedi, and the upcoming JJ Abrams addition to the franchise, The Force Awakens. It chronicles the effect of the fall of the Empire's leadership and the loss of the second Death Star on one of the far-flung worlds in the galaxy, and how its people struggle against an Empire that refuses to surrender or fade into the night. I won't go into laborious detail about it, because in the end equation, it's not anything terribly original. Oh, the characters fill out their roles quite well, coming across more like people and less like cardboard cut-outs, and the use of present tense keeps the action well-paced and immediate rather than getting bogged down in exposition or pontification. For what it's worth, Chuck does what Chuck does best: punchy dialog that doesn't mess around, Hemingway-esque connective prose that's just as short and to-the-point, and just enough intrigue and provocative ideas to keep the action from feeling too shallow or the characters too weak. For the record, I don't think this book as quite as good as some of Chuck's other work, such as Blackbirds or The Blue Blazes. Merely my opinion. BUT. The point is that, as Star Wars novels go, this is a good one. While it doesn't quite have the grandiosity of Timothy Zahn's works or the space swashbuckling of Michael A. Stackpole, it also doesn't suffer from the byzantine structures of the old expanded universe. And that's a big part of the reason why people hate it so much. They might say negative things about the plot or characters, but I cannot imagine that a large portion of the negative reactions come from a biased perspective. While I may be biased towards Wendig's writing in general, I am also a long-time Star Wars fan, and I mourned the loss of Zahn's trilogy and the exploits of Rogue Squadron when it was announced that the old canon was being ejected. It hurt, to be honest. But things change. And we move on. In the end, you really can't ask for a better bridge than the writing of Wendig, both between the two films and the old EU and the new. It does its job, workman-like, moving the story towards its ultimate destination and using enough familiar faces to acclimate open-minded readers to a universe both old and new. All we have to do is let go of our hatred of change and the unfamiliar. Much like a black stormtrooper, a three-bladed lightsaber, or a woman in shining armor, change is good even if it seems strange or unnecessary, and it is up to us to embrace it and see where the new journey takes us. Anything less cheapens our beloved stories, derides the creative endeavors of people like Wendig, and makes us look foolish and childish. Do better, Star Wars fans. Be better. Let go of your hate.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The Aftermath Review: Let Go Of Your Hatred

The Aftermath Review: Let Go Of Your Hatred — Blue Ink Alchemy

There are a lot of people out there who don't, and won't, like this book. I'm pretty sure I know why, and it has nothing to do with the plot or characters of Aftermath: Star Wars. It has to do with the book's very existence. You see, Aftermath, written by Chuck Wendig, takes place between the end of the original trilogy of films, Return of the Jedi, and the upcoming JJ Abrams addition to the franchise, The Force Awakens. It chronicles the effect of the fall of the Empire's leadership and the loss of the second Death Star on one of the far-flung worlds in the galaxy, and how its people struggle against an Empire that refuses to surrender or fade into the night. I won't go into laborious detail about it, because in the end equation, it's not anything terribly original. Oh, the characters fill out their roles quite well, coming across more like people and less like cardboard cut-outs, and the use of present tense keeps the action well-paced and immediate rather than getting bogged down in exposition or pontification. For what it's worth, Chuck does what Chuck does best: punchy dialog that doesn't mess around, Hemingway-esque connective prose that's just as short and to-the-point, and just enough intrigue and provocative ideas to keep the action from feeling too shallow or the characters too weak. For the record, I don't think this book as quite as good as some of Chuck's other work, such as Blackbirds or The Blue Blazes. Merely my opinion. BUT. The point is that, as Star Wars novels go, this is a good one. While it doesn't quite have the grandiosity of Timothy Zahn's works or the space swashbuckling of Michael A. Stackpole, but it also doesn't suffer from the byzantine structures of the old expanded universe. And that's a big part of the reason why people hate it so much. They might say negative things about the plot or characters, but I cannot imagine that a large portion of the negative reactions come from a biased perspective. While I may be biased towards Wendig's writing in general, I am also a long-time Star Wars fan, and I mourned the loss of Zahn's trilogy and the exploits of Rogue Squadron when it was announced that the old canon was being ejected. It hurt, to be honest. But things change. And we move on. In the end, you really can't ask for a better bridge than the writing of Wendig, both between the two films and the old EU and the new. It does its job, workman-like, moving the story towards its ultimate destination and using enough familiar faces to acclimate open-minded readers to a universe both old and new. All we have to do is let go of our hatred of change and the unfamiliar. Much like a black stormtrooper, a three-bladed lightsaber, or a woman in shining armor, change is good even if it seems strange or unnecessary, and it is up to us to embrace it and see where the new journey takes us. Anything less cheapens our beloved stories, derides the creative endeavors of people like Wendig, and makes us look foolish and childish. Do better, Star Wars fans. Be better. Let go of your hate.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The Aftermath Review: Let Go Of Your Hatred

The Aftermath Review: Let Go Of Your Hatred — Blue Ink Alchemy

There are a lot of people out there who don't, and won't, like this book. I'm pretty sure I know why, and it has nothing to do with the plot or characters of Aftermath: Star Wars. It has to do with the book's very existence. You see, Aftermath, written by Chuck Wendig, takes place between the end of the original trilogy of films, Return of the Jedi, and the upcoming JJ Abrams addition to the franchise, The Force Awakens. It chronicles the effect of the fall of the Empire's leadership and the loss of the second Death Star on one of the far-flung worlds in the galaxy, and how its people struggle against an Empire that refuses to surrender or fade into the night. I won't go into laborious detail about it, because in the end equation, it's not anything terribly original. Oh, the characters fill out their roles quite well, coming across more like people and less like cardboard cut-outs, and the use of present tense keeps the action well-paced and immediate rather than getting bogged down in exposition or pontification. For what it's worth, Chuck does what Chuck does best: punchy dialog that doesn't mess around, Hemingway-esque connective prose that's just as short and to-the-point, and just enough intrigue and provocative ideas to keep the action from feeling too shallow or the characters too weak. For the record, I don't think this book as quite as good as some of Chuck's other work, such as Blackbirds or The Blue Blazes. But that's my opinion. BUT. The point is that, as Star Wars novels go, this is a good one. While it doesn't quite have the grandiosity of Timothy Zahn's works or the space swashbuckling of Michael A. Stackpole, but it also doesn't suffer from the byzantine structures of the old expanded universe. And that's a big part of the reason why people hate it so much. They might say negative things about the plot or characters, but I cannot imagine that a large portion of the negative reactions come from a biased perspective. While I may be biased towards Wendig's writing in general, I am also a long-time Star Wars fan, and I mourned the loss of Zahn's trilogy and the exploits of Rogue Squadron when it was announced that the old canon was being ejected. It hurt, to be honest. But things change. And we move on. In the end, you really can't ask for a better bridge than the writing of Wendig, both between the two films and the old EU and the new. It does its job, workman-like, moving the story towards its ultimate destination and using enough familiar faces to acclimate open-minded readers to a universe both old and new. All we have to do is let go of our hatred of change and the unfamiliar. Much like a black stormtrooper, a three-bladed lightsaber, or a woman in shining armor, change is good even if it seems strange or unnecessary, and it is up to us to embrace it and see where the new journey takes us. Anything less cheapens our beloved stories, derides the creative endeavors of people like Wendig, and makes us look foolish and childish. Do better, Star Wars fans. Be better. Let go of your hate.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

From the Vault: Keeping It Real

From the Vault: Keeping It Real — Blue Ink Alchemy

Today I'm going back through my novel draft and changing the perspective of the narrative slightly. I did a quick search for 'perspective' and came across this post. With Star Wars: The Force Awakens drawing closer, it seemed appropriate to bring this one back. Enjoy!

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Writers: remember that you are writing about people. Unless you are telling your story from the perspective of an entirely alien race (and good on you for taking on that challenge), you will be portraying events for your audience from the perspective of human beings. More often than not, even animal stories have human points of view: anthropomorphous protagonists are nothing new, from Orwell's Animal Farm to The Adventures of Milo and Otis. And with that perspective comes the need for thought processes and authentic emotion. I know there is a lot of entertainment out there that suggests, through one way or another, that the audience turn off their brains. And in some instances, this is fine. When you're playing DOOM, you're not necessarily contemplating the greater ramifications of blasting demons in the face with a shotgun. But when the entertainment has human beings, usually capable of higher thought processes, doing things that make no logical sense or have little tangible connection to one another, it can be difficult not to scratch your head in bewilderment. A great number of movies do this: they pace their action in such a way and frame it with such bombast that coherent thought gets overshadowed or lost altogether. For example, compare Star Trek Into Darkness with Guardians of the Galaxy. Both are relatively light, free-flowing sci-fi action-adventures. Putting aside that the former is a far departure from its original source material, it is serviceable in what it does, and as I said in my review, does enough things right that it rises above the usual level of shallow tripe on which a great deal of in-name-only franchise movies can operate. However, it also sees characters with familiar names acting in ways that defy logical thought and reasoning. Meanwhile, in the latter film, characters operate in consistent ways, following their goals and motivations in what, to them, is a logical chain of reasoning. Their reactions and plans may seem unreasonable to others, but to them, it makes perfect sense. This is because the writers took the time to see things from those perspectives and conveyed their characters in ways that made us believe in them. It can be difficult, at times, to believe that Chris Pine is actually Captain Kirk; it is never a doubt that Chris Pratt is Peter Quill. Oh, excuse me, "Star-Lord". The emotional aspect, too, is something that sets Guardians of the Galaxy apart, in that the writing and acting work together so that we feel, rather than are told, what the characters are feeling. Good writing tends to be subtle in that way. Another potential example comes from one of the biggest buzz-worthy events of recent memory. For a brief moment, we see John Boyega in the teaser trailer for Star Wars: The Force Awakens. He is, in fact, the first human we see, and in the moment we see his face, there's already a lot going on. And I'm not just talking about a new black character in Star Wars (Shock! Alarm! Nerdrage!) or a black stormtrooper (or just a protagonist in stormtrooper armor like his possible spiritual ancestors Luke Skywalker and Han Solo - again, Shock! Alarm! Nerdrage!) being on screen. I'm talking about his face, his manner, the mood of the shot. Say what you like about JJ Abrams (goodness knows, I have), he has always drawn out great performances from his actors. And in this shot, it looks to me like he's bringing his A game to Star Wars. For this tiny sliver of time, John gives us a wealth of emotions just from his look and movements. He's shocked. He's desperate. He's scared. He's covered in sweat, moves with quick, furtive motions, and doesn't stay in one place very long. As both a moment from the film and an invitation for the audience to become intrigued, it works very well. What I'm driving at is that, even in science fiction and fantasy, the onus falls on the writers to keep the emotions and motivations real. Let your characters think rationally, provided they aren't mad for one reason or another. And even then, spend some time in their shoes. Get to know what makes them tick, what makes sense from their perspective, and how they justify their actions. Villains are rarely, if ever, villainous for the sake of villainy. Hell, even the Red Skull in Captain America: The First Avenger had something to prove, even if he went about it in a villainous way and something was said about his true villainy coming out through one thing or another. Giving all of your characters the time and forethought required to have them convey true processes of thought and genuine moments of emotion is essential to writing a story that people will enjoy, and want to read more about. And if you want to be a successful writer, you're going to want to have your readers coming back for more.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Return Of The Blue

Return Of The Blue — Blue Ink Alchemy

I can't even begin to fully articulate what the last few weeks have been like for me. Hospital. Near-eviction. Rapid, rabid mood swings. Disastrous car trouble. More car trouble. Moving. PAX. Yelling. Broken phones. Tears. And yet... Here I am. Whole. Unbowed. Determined. Unbent. Successful. Unbroken. If I can survive this, I can probably survive just about anything. And despite the best efforts of my badbrain (which can be broken down into "head weasels" as my friend Faust puts it), I survived. I'm sitting in the new apartment with things boxed up and some furniture needing assembly and distribution to rooms, but for the most part, it's starting to feel comfortably like home. I can walk down to the nearby transit center, getting some very welcome daily cardio, and catch a bus downtown. I work there, now, at a lovely Starbucks, slinging coffee and smiling at folks who just want to get through their meetings or finish filing TPS reports. I remember that life, and I don't envy them a bit. Getting back into food service has been like falling off of a bike: easy, and while it might have scraped me up a bit, gravity is a good force for teaching you how to pace yourself. After my shift, I can walk up the hill to the Seattle Central Library, and write in a secluded, quiet space. I have some new ideas for the novel, and while I cringe at the thought of going back to the beginning to adjust something, I know it'll benefit all future revisions and edits, as well as the final product. So that's another to-do list item to check off come Tuesday. For now, though, I'm resting and recouperating. PAX was fantastic, in and of itself. I've often said that working a show brings out the best version of myself. Being around people I love and haven't seen in months can kick me into a bit of a manic state, and I use that energy for positive, productive ends. I ride the demon; I do not let it ride me. It's a mindset I need to continue to maintain outside of shows, and I'm hopeful that working a well-defined job with a solid schedule can help me do that. At PAX, I'm now in a managerial position, and this last show saw me helping with a new department. From all accounts, it went quite well. I've now been tapped for similar work with GeekGirlCon, and I predict making it to most if not all of the PAX shows in 2016. It's a huge part of my life and a major inspiration. As for everything else, the darkest of my dark thoughts feel far more irrational and distant than even a week before this writing. I've gotten my medication adjusted, and I'm seeing therapists again on a regular basis. I'm doing my utmost to keep lines of communication open and maintain honesty, without being cruel or unfeeling. Thinking before I speak, that sort of thing. It feels like this has been sort of a 'soft reset', on many levels. And I plan on making the most of it. It feels like I've been away. Almost as if I've been separated from myself. I haven't lost sight of my goals, but after everything I've been through in the past few weeks, those goals no longer seem so distant, so unobtainable. I can't pretend that I don't have hard work ahead of me. But at the same time, it's work for which I'm suited. Telling stories. Seeing people as people. Listening. Feeling. Thinking on a situation and giving advice that not only placates, but guides and reinforces. I am a good writer. A good friend. A good worker. A good person. Nobody can take those things away from me. Not even me.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Retaliation vs. Retribution

Retaliation vs. Retribution — Blue Ink Alchemy

I have hackles. I have more hackles than I'd like to admit. And when they get raised, it isn't a pretty sight. I'm someone that believes that people in general should be treated with respect and understanding, And when they aren't, be it in meatspace or on the Internet, I get angry about it. I cannot grok why patience and comprehension are so anathema to another human being. I get frustrated when someone cannot or will not imagine the other complexly. It makes me downright mad. But how do I channel that emotion into effective change, and not just rage at the offense in impotence? There is a difference, I feel, between retaliation and retribution. It's the difference between revenge and justice. Societal standards of what constitutes justice can vary wildly in different parts of the world. Even in an internally demarcated entity like the United States, laws differ in wording, intent, or even existence from polity to polity, despite the presence of a unified overarching government. I don't think that changes the fact that people should expect a baseline level of respect, understanding, and compassion from other people. Leaving aside arguments of semantics and specific polity laws, things like harassment and assault of all kinds, from verbal and emotional to physical and psychological, are revolting acts undertaken by petty or callous people. With selfish myopia and a twisted sense of what qualifies as 'humor', the perpetrators of such impersonal and belittling acts are not interested in promoting human well-being or making the world a better place; they are only in it for themselves, their advancement or amusement, no matter what the cost is on their victims. While I have seen examples of this in my personal experience, the most prevalent and extant environment in which these acts occur is the Internet. This is the realm of anonymous inhuman verbal assault. It is the realm of the 'troll'. Getting trolled or bullied online is something that's existed since some person saw some other person do something they didn't agree with, for whatever reason, and decided to use their anonymity to lash out. More recently, death and bomb threats against people based on their gender and opinions and SWAT teams being called down on opponents in a video game have become prominent examples of this endemic problem. But how does one go about addressing or correcting the issue without making it a simple and ultimately pointless act of personal vengeance? Some people would say that the problem is non-existent or not that problematic. Others say that people - the victims, mostly - need to "grow a thicker skin" or "get over it". This attitude, itself, is part of the problem, as it demonstrates a callousness towards the very real anguish people go through when they are personally attacked, belittled, harassed, objectified, or threatened. Just because one have never been a victim, or cannot imagine what it is like to be victimized, does not mean that a standard of justice is inconceivable or unobtainable. The difference between retaliation and retribution is that retaliation is as personal and selfish an act as the assault itself. Retribution is calling upon a greater authority to visit justice upon the offender. In other words, if one party calls another a racial slur in the workplace, and the second party responds in kind or with violence, that is retaliation. If the second party, instead, brings the matter before their supervisor or a higher authority, that is retribution. In a similar vein, a police officer using extreme force on someone (say, someone stopped for a moving violation being arrested, detained, and murdered) getting shot down in the street is retaliation. That officer getting publicly reprimanded and, one hopes, stripped of their authority is retribution. We need more avenues for retribution when someone is harassed, bullied, or singled out due to their race, gender, orientation, or outlook. We do not have the capacity to completely comprehend the circumstances of the others around us. We do, however, have the capacity to desire an amount of respect for ourselves, and to expect and demand the same for those around us in our lives. When the fear that overtakes a victim keeps them from seeking justice, it falls to us around them, in our communities and society, to counteract their fear (and, in some cases, overcome our own) in the pursuit of justice. And when that respect is undermined, ignored, or outright demolished, we have a duty to act as vectors of retribution upon the offenders. It is the only way we will progress as a species. It is the only way we prove we're better than mere animals. It is the only way the better world so many dream of and strive for will survive.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Quick Update Post

Quick Update Post — Blue Ink Alchemy

I absolutely hate letting writing go undone for days on end. The problem is, when you have mental conditions that thrive in an environment of self-recrimination, a vicious cycle begins in which you admonish yourself for not doing the thing, you feel hatred towards yourself as a result of admonishment, you take time to recover from the admonishment instead of doing the thing, you realize the thing has not been done, and you're back to where you started. While I have been getting some work done on the novel, thanks to the use of the Writer's Room, the blog has slipped. Between hunting down a job (which starts today!), and preparing for PAX and a move, and wrestling with all sorts of internal problems with relationships, demons, anxieties, and frustrations, making time to post about writing or gaming or anything has been difficult. I need to make it a point to do so, though, just as much as I need to make it a point to practice my guitar. Oh, yeah. I was given a guitar. I'm stumbling my way through some basic chords and trying to fret properly. It's an interesting and occasionally frustrating experience. But I think I'll get through it. I'm glad you're reading these words. It really does mean a lot to me. I know I'm not a flawless being, and I make mistakes, and I even occasionally present problems or, worst of all, hurt people. I'm sorry. I don't mean to. It's never my intent. I know it doesn't take away the pain or counter the cost, but rather than pretending I've done nothing wrong, I'd much rather do whatever I can to make things right. Even if it's just getting back on a routine blog schedule.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

A Shameless Sale Post

A Shameless Sale Post — Blue Ink Alchemy

So before I put all of this stuff up on Craigslist, since I need the help with affording a move and things like food and child support, behold! My old White Wolf book collection, going on sale right now! Prices in USD. VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE SOLD! KINDRED OF THE EAST SOLD! WEREWOLF:THE APOCALYPSE Werewolf: the Apocalypse Player's Guide Book of the Weaver Mokole Hengeyoki: Shapeshifters of the East Total: 60 WRAITH: THE OBLIVION Wraith: the Oblivion Player's Guide Total: 75 MAGE: THE ASCENSION ~Core Books~ Mage: the Ascension Storyteller's Screen Total: 50 ~Supplemental Books~ Akashic Brotherhood Celestial Chorus The Book of Shadows New World Order Hidden Lore Void Engineers The Book of Mirrors Technomancer's Toybox Masters of the Art Technocrocy Assembled vol. 1 Guide to the Technocracy Total: 60 Discounted Total for all Mage books: 100 Books are between Good and Near Mint condition. Seattle area buyers preferred but I am willing to ship after payment is received. Thanks in advance for your attention and help!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

A Shameless Sale Post

A Shameless Sale Post — Blue Ink Alchemy

So before I put all of this stuff up on Craigslist, since I need the help with affording a move and things like food and child support, behold! My old White Wolf book collection, going on sale right now! Prices in USD. VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE ~Core Books~ Dark Ages Vampire Victorian Age Vampire Vampire: the Masquarade Total: 60 ~Sourcebooks~ Clanbook: Assamite Clanbook: Brujah Clanbook: Gangrel Clanbook: Followers of Set Clanbook: Lasombra The Succubus Club: Dead Man's Party The Red Sign Archons & Templars New York By Night Nights of Prophecy Total: 40 Vampire Storyteller's Handbook with Screen and Sleeve: 40 Discount Total for all Vampire books: 120 KINDRED OF THE EAST ~Main Books~ Kindred of the East Kindred of the East Companion Dharma Book: Devil-Tigers Dharma Book: Thrashing Dragon Dharma Book: Bone Flowers Dharma Book: Thousand Whispers Dharma Book: Resplendent Cranes Shadow War Killing Streets Half-Damned: Dhamphyr Total: 50 ~Setting Books~ World of Darkness: Tokyo World of Darkness: Hong Kong World of Darkness: Demon Hunter X San Francisco By Night Blood & Silk Total: 30 Discount Total for all Kindred of the East books: 75 WEREWOLF:THE APOCALYPSE Werewolf: the Apocalypse Player's Guide Book of the Weaver Mokole Hengeyoki: Shapeshifters of the East Total: 60 WRAITH: THE OBLIVION Wraith: the Oblivion Player's Guide Total: 75 MAGE: THE ASCENSION ~Core Books~ Mage: the Ascension Storyteller's Screen Total: 50 ~Supplemental Books~ Akashic Brotherhood Celestial Chorus The Book of Shadows New World Order Hidden Lore Void Engineers The Book of Mirrors Technomancer's Toybox Masters of the Art Technocrocy Assembled vol. 1 Guide to the Technocracy Total: 60 Discounted Total for all Mage books: 100 Books are between Good and Near Mint condition. Seattle area buyers preferred but I am willing to ship after payment is received. Thanks in advance for your attention and help!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

"I Know A Guy": The Ant-Man Review

"I Know A Guy": The Ant-Man Review — Blue Ink Alchemy

With my financial situation on shaky ground and everything else in upheaval, it's difficult for me to justify expenses outside of feeding myself and keeping the utilities on. Even costs for transit, be it gasoline or passage on trains and busses, can be questionable. That said, I do want to keep up with the ongoing continuity of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, both because their plotlines and characterizations are more coherent and because, well, they have yet to blow the landing. Even the nadir of the films, Iron Man 2, is a decent flick in and of itself, and is buoyed up by the following films in a form of 'better in hindsight'. Granted, it's still nowhere near as good as any other Marvel film to date, but it's still pretty good. I almost have to grade these things on a curve, and I was wondering if Ant-Man might become the new anchor for the low end of said curve. I managed to satisfy that curiosity without destroying my meager budget because... well, I know a guy. I honestly have seen threads of more than one Iron man movie getting woven into Ant-Man since I saw the first trailer. A successor picking up the threads of a line of business the founder didn't want? Iron Man. Keeping super-tech out of the wrong hands? Iron Man 2. Inventor who's a bit of a prick looking for redemption and overcoming emotional obstacles? Iron Man 3. It's one of the problems Ant-Man has: this is ground that's been tread before. This might be because the creative team had to plunder old ideas when Edgar Wright left the project. It was a big question hanging over Ant-Man: "Can this Marvel movie survive some of the awful behind-the-scenes stuff that plagues other productions?" The short answer? "Yes." The longer answer is that this particular Marvel outing, like many of its successes, is much more personal in focus and small in scale. It also conveys a lot more humor than, for example, Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I think this is due to its roots in the works and concepts of Edgar "Shawn of the Dead"/"Hot Fuzz"/"Scott Pilgrim" Wright. As much as there were some genuine laughs to be had, there are also a few moments where I felt they were pushing too hard for the comedy. It never gets embarrassing and the jokes don't necessarily fall flat, but they get more of a rueful smirk than a good laugh. Character development and interaction, too, averages out to a baseline for Marvel films. Michael Douglas is a seasoned actor and his gravitas and ease work well with the material. Paul Rudd definitely has the self-effacing leading-man chops required for this project, and he also demonstrates that he is more than capable of working side-by-side with other talent without overshadowing them. I was very happy to see Evangeline Lilly given plenty to do, as much as Marvel tends to sideline its female characters, and the promise within the credits fills me with hope. I want more diversity in my superheroes, dammit! The criminal sidekicks are amusing at times, the daughter is adequately precious, and the menace of Yellowjacket feels more legitimate and immediate than the vague nature of Obediah Stane or the criminally underused Laufey of Jotunheim. What makes Ant-Man worth watching is the inventiveness of its technology, from the scale-shifting nature of the suits to the interactions the characters have with ants. The action scenes pop with ideas and quick thinking as much as they do with punches and bullets, and getting along with legions of ants makes for fun and occasionally adorable sci-fi antics. While you understand Pym not naming individual ants, you feel for Scott when he chooses to do so anyway. This isn't the breakneck, visceral action of Winter Soldier or the grandiose set-piece action of Age of Ultron - Ant-Man, in just about every sense of the word, is playing on a smaller stage, and yet remains interesting and fun to watch despite (or perhaps because of) this reduction of stakes and scale. So, in the end, is Ant-Man worth seeing? I'd say it is. While it doesn't have the legitimate above-average quality of the Captain America entries thus far, or the unabashed fantastical fun of both Thor flicks that are available, it's still fun, still interesting, and still earnest in its intent and execution. While not the studio's best, it doesn't disappoint and hits all of the right notes for a Marvel movie. I will admit to the sort of mentality that inclines me towards liking both Thor movies, and that isn't everybody's bag, but for the most part, Ant-Man works for me. Until Michael Bay casts Martin Lawrence as T'Challa, Make Mine Marvel!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

The "Starving Artist" Is Bullshit

The "Starving Artist" Is Bullshit — Blue Ink Alchemy

This is a discussion that's come up over the last few days. I believe it was David Hill who brought it to light (as he tends to do, verbose and uncompromising firebrand that he is), and Chuck Wendig, of course, dropped the definitive word-hammer on the issue with trademark aplomb. All I can really add is my personal experience and perspective, which boils down to this: Being an actual starving artist absolutely sucks. I have been without dayjob work for almost two months. Freelance work has been difficult for me to find. I'm at the point of applying for whatever I can find, just to pay the bills. This is in the middle of needing to find a new place to live, preparing for summer events, and managing my bipolar disorder, anxiety, and interactions with other human beings. Oh, and I should still be writing somewhere in there, right? One of the reasons I applied to use the Writer's Room at Seattle's Central Library is that it is a quiet, secluded place away from just about everything that could distract me. I bang out words there without issue or interruption. But as much solace as I take from my productivity, I know that, for now, it is only a temporary respite. At some point, I have to leave the sanctuary. I have to face the pressures and requirements of the outside world. I need to acquire income, to pull my weight, to feed my body so my mind can keep making words. Ideally, making words is what would feed me, but I have no illusions that such a day is far off. I have a lot of work to do to have anything publishable that can give me a living source of income. Until then, I need to figure out a dayjob. Because starving sucks. Now, I haven't actually starved yet, obviously. I'm hungry, sure. Approaching desperation, maybe. But I'm privileged like crazy. I'm white, male, educated, and have the support of family and friends. Other artists aren't so lucky. I want to echo Chuck's sentiment from his post: take care of yourselves. Make ends meet any way you can. Get a foundation of some form of security under you, a roof over your head, a means to keep yourself fed. It will go a long way to relieving your anxiety and depression (which, as an artist, you DO NOT NEED) and help you be more productive and working harder towards your true, ultimate goal. It's what I'm doing. And despite the steps in the direction of my goal being painful, confusing, and frustrating, I'm still making them. You can, too.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

Break Your Heroes

Break Your Heroes — Blue Ink Alchemy

We like to think of our heroes as strong. When they fight evil or overcome obstacles or succeed in their goals, we aspire to the same heights. Deeds of daring and feats of strength or cunning drive us to be the sort of people we want to be, impeccable and flawless paragons of the virtues we espouse. Those sorts of struggles, though, are not what people like you or me face daily. I think that I am not alone in regularly facing reminders of the failures from the past. People we've let down. Goals we've failed to achieve. Situations we've failed to resolve. Relationships we've failed to repair. A litany of shortcomings and false starts that goes all the way back to our first bad grade or broken heart. Why should our heroes be any different? Part of the problem I've always had with Superman (before Zack Snyder introduced me to a whole slew of new problems to have with the character) is that he is virtually flawless. Being superhuman in strength, speed, endurance, and knowledge makes it difficult for him to fail in any challenges he faces physically or mentally. While he does run into some emotional obstacles, his virtuous nature and righteous motivations rarely see him on the failing end of his endeavors. I mean, don't get me wrong, I do like Superman, especially as a foil for Batman, but it's hard for me to relate to the character, for the most part. Not so with the likes of Max Rockatansky. Especially as he is shown in Mad Max: Fury Road, Max is a thoroughly broken individual. He is motivated by a need to survive, fueled by anger and fear, and almost entirely selfish when he's at his worst. But the experiences of the wasteland in which he roams and the plight of those he encounters awakens something in him. He never really escapes the trauma of his past - he is plagued by night terrors and assaulted by visions even after he embraces his righteous cause. And yet, instead of remaining in the thrall of his brokenness, he rises above it, to the point that others are looking to him for support and guidance, rather than treating him with distrust and derision. That, to me, is true heroism. Therefore, writers, I encourage you to break your heroes. "Kill your darlings" is a familiar phrase for many fiction authors, but when it comes to protagonists, there is a sadistic streak in me that says death is too good for them. The true power in our narratives, the thrust of the human experience that keeps readers turning pages and the thumbs of television viewers from changing channels, is in seeing broken people pull themselves together. Moreso than punching bad guys, rescuing prisoners, or saving the world, there's an upswell of emotion that comes in a moment where you see the better nature of a character emerge from within the cracks of their outer shell.

Max: You need to take the War Rig half a click up the track. Max begins to head towards the Bullet Farmer's noise and madness. Furiosa: What if you don't come back? Max: pauses Then you keep going.

Overcoming external obstacles is impressive to be sure. But overcoming ourselves? That's a bit of the supernatural in everyday life, my friends.

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Blue Ink Alchemy

A Shameless Sale Post

A Shameless Sale Post — Blue Ink Alchemy

So before I put all of this stuff up on Craigslist, since I need the help with affording a move and things like food and child support, behold! My old White Wolf book collection, going on sale right now! Prices in USD. VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE ~Core Books~ Dark Ages Vampire Victorian Age Vampire Vampire: the Masquarade Total: 75 ~Sourcebooks~ Clanbook: Assamite Clanbook: Brujah Clanbook: Gangrel Clanbook: Followers of Set Clanbook: Lasombra The Succubus Club: Dead Man's Party The Red Sign Archons & Templars New York By Night Nights of Prophecy Total: 50 Vampire Storyteller's Handbook with Screen and Sleeve: 50 Discount Total for all Vampire books: 150 KINDRED OF THE EAST ~Main Books~ Kindred of the East Kindred of the East Companion Dharma Book: Devil-Tigers Dharma Book: Thrashing Dragon Dharma Book: Bone Flowers Dharma Book: Thousand Whispers Dharma Book: Resplendent Cranes Shadow War Killing Streets Half-Damned: Dhamphyr Total: 75 ~Setting Books~ World of Darkness: Tokyo World of Darkness: Hong Kong World of Darkness: Demon Hunter X San Francisco By Night Blood & Silk Total: 50 Discount Total for all Kindred of the East books: 100 WEREWOLF:THE APOCALYPSE Werewolf: the Apocalypse Player's Guide Book of the Weaver Mokole Hengeyoki: Shapeshifters of the East Total: 100 WRAITH: THE OBLIVION Wraith: the Oblivion Player's Guide Total: 100 MAGE: THE ASCENSION ~Core Books~ Mage: the Ascension Storyteller's Screen Total: 50 ~Supplemental Books~ Akashic Brotherhood Celestial Chorus The Book of Shadows New World Order Hidden Lore Void Engineers The Book of Mirrors Technomancer's Toybox Masters of the Art Technocrocy Assembled vol. 1 Guide to the Technocracy Total: 100 Discounted Total for all Mage books: 125 Books are between Good and Near Mint condition. Seattle area buyers preferred but I am willing to ship after payment is received. Thanks in advance for your attention and help!

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Blue Ink Alchemy

A Shameless Sale Post

A Shameless Sale Post — Blue Ink Alchemy

So before I put all of this stuff up on Craigslist, since I need the help with affording a move and things like food and child support, behold! My old White Wolf book collection, going on sale right now! Prices in USD. VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE ~Core Books: 75~ Dark Ages Vampire Victorian Age Vampire Vampire: the Masquarade ~Sourcebooks: 50~ Clanbook: Assamite Clanbook: Brujah Clanbook: Gangrel Clanbook: Followers of Set Clanbook: Lasombra The Succubus Club: Dead Man's Party The Red Sign Archons & Templars New York By Night Nights of Prophecy Vampire Storyteller's Handbook with Screen and Sleeve Discount Total: 150 KINDRED OF THE EAST ~Main Books: 75~ Kindred of the East Kindred of the East Companion Dharma Book: Devil-Tigers Dharma Book: Thrashing Dragon Dharma Book: Bone Flowers Dharma Book: Thousand Whispers Dharma Book: Resplendent Cranes Shadow War Killing Streets Half-Damned: Dhamphyr ~Setting Books: 50~ World of Darkness: Tokyo World of Darkness: Hong Kong World of Darkness: Demon Hunter X San Francisco By Night Blood & Silk Discount Total: 100 WEREWOLF:THE APOCALYPSE Werewolf: the Apocalypse Player's Guide Book of the Weaver Mokole Hengeyoki: Shapeshifters of the East Total: 100 WRAITH: THE OBLIVION Wraith: the Oblivion Player's Guide Total: 100 MAGE: THE ASCENSION ~Core Books: 50~ Mage: the Ascension Storyteller's Screen ~Supplemental Books: 100~ Akashic Brotherhood Celestial Chorus The Book of Shadows New World Order Hidden Lore Void Engineers The Book of Mirrors Technomancer's Toybox Masters of the Art Technocrocy Assembled vol. 1 Guide to the Technocracy Discounted Total: 125 Books are between Good and Near Mint condition. Seattle area buyers preferred but I am willing to ship after payment is received. Thanks in advance for your attention and help!

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Blue Ink Alchemy