Interview: filmmaker Lisa Stock

When it was announced a few years ago that Joss Whedon would be doing the new Wonder Woman movie, I was of the unpopular opinion that he was dead wrong for it. My main reason was that, in all the shows he's produced and scripts he's written, he has yet to show he can write about anything other than Read more

The grubby heirs of Excalibur: swords in the world of Eddie LaCrosse

My friend Teresa Frohock, author of Miserere: An Autumn Tale (my review is here), asked me how the idea for naming Eddie LaCrosse’s swords came about. I thought this might be interesting to others as well. First came the idea of writing the initial novel, The Sword-Edged Blonde, as if it were a 40s detective novel. This was after years--well, Read more

Writer's Day #9: C2E2 report

  In my latest Writer's Day video, I share some of my experiences at C2E2 in Chicago, by far the biggest convention I've ever Read more

The Hum and the Shiver eBook sale!

As the release day for the second Tufa novel, Wisp of a Thing, approaches, you can now get the eBook of the first, The Hum and the Shiver, for only $2.99.  It's a limited-time offer, so hurry before supplies...oh, wait, it's an eBook, they've got plenty.  But the sale ends June 7, 2013! Click here to order from Amazon for Read more

Guest blog: Dale Short on his film Recovering Racist

I was honored to be the first contributor to this documentary Kickstarter project, and rather than attempt to convince you myself, I asked acclaimed author Dale Short, one of the people behind the film, to explain where the idea came from and how important it is.  And please check out the video trailer at the end of his article Read more
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The Pultizer Fiction Kerfluffle

Posted on April 23, 2012 by Alex in Award, writers, writing | 3 Comments

Unfinished, and about boredom. One of the best three books of 2011? Really?

For the first time since 1977, the Pulitzer Prize committee chose not to give an award for fiction this year.

The responses have been vociferous and bifurcated (those are high literary terms for loud and split). It’s been denounced alternately as a flaw in literature itself, or in the committees doing the nominating and selecting, respectively.

The nominating committee–Michael Cunningham, a past winner for his novel The Hours, NPR host Maureen Corrigan and New Orleans Times-Picayun book editor Susan Larson–were, by all accounts, a reasonable group. You had a writer, someone who talks to a lot of writers, and someone who professionally reads and evaluates a lot of books. Together, according to this story, they read over 300 books in nine months. The three books they submitted were Swamplandia by Karen Russel, Train Dreams by Denis Johnson, and The Pale King by David Foster Wallace. Theoretically, the Pulitzer award committee would real all three, then pick a winner.

And that’s where it gets kind of squirrelly.

The one book entirely written by its author AND first published in 2011. Just sayin

Of these three books, only Swamplandia was a real, honest-to-God finished and current piece of writing. Train Dreams is a novella first published in 2002, which common sense says should disqualify it for an award ten years later (although the Pulitzer rules are pretty vague on who and what is eligible). And The Pale King (a novel about boredom, if you can believe it) was left unfinished at the time of Wallace’s 2010 suicide and subsequently completed by an editor, which means it’s not even all his work.

I haven’t read Swamplandia, but it certainly sounds like the kind of book that wins awards. The Pulitzer website calls it, “An adventure tale about an eccentric family adrift in its failing alligator-wrestling theme park, told by a 13-year-old heroine wise beyond her years.” Its author, Karen Russell, has already won a boatload of other awards for her fiction. So what happened?

We may never know. The Pulitzer folks are under no obligation to explain their reasoning, and can give (or not) their awards to whomever they want. But despite their denials it’s tempting to read into it a comment, if not an outright indictment, of the overall state of “literature.” There has always been a dichotomy between the books that sell and the books that critics love, but it’s rarely been a wider gulf than it is right now, thanks to changes in the book industry itself. Seldom has a more repulsive “writer” also been a bestseller than the likes of Jersey Shore’s Snooki, for example.

And really, Pulitzerati, you expect us to believe that an unfinished novel about boredom is better than every other book released in 2011, except two? Those sorts of critical blinders don’t help your case.

I have no answer or explanation for this. I’m happy to consider it an observation about the so-called “literary” genre that has abandoned such basics as good storytelling, some sort of moral perspective and even the basics of grammar (you’ll never find as many sentence fragments in a genre book as you do in some “literary” works). But ultimately it may tell us nothing, except how out of touch elite awards organizations can be. And that’s not news at all.

Guest Blog: Wonder Woman Redux

Posted on April 16, 2012 by Alex in comic books, writers, writing | Leave a comment

A few weeks ago, my friend Elizabeth Keathley wrote a guest blog here about the new run of the Wonder Woman comic. Recent issues have caused her to re-evaluate her original comments.

*****

Last month, I wrote a piece for this blog recommending the new run of Wonder Woman, based on the first four issues of the digital release. It is with a heavy heart that I return to rescind my recommendation, based on some rather strange story turns in issues five through seven. There’s not a lot I could write that hasn’t been written in detail, with page scans, by Colin Smith on his blog, but I felt I owed it to this audience to come back and explain that I don’t think the new comic is really so great anymore.

Image from the animated movie.

I’m not one of those people who would only be happy with an idea of Wonder Woman I have in my head. I thought the animated Wonder Woman movie was very good, despite it being far from the Wonder Woman I have in my mind. What I ask of WW writers is that they treat women, especially the title character, with respect. Wonder Woman is a feminist full of compassion – she’s a hero. Sadly the current DC misogyny creates an atmosphere of editorial bias that results in really crappy treatment of women. While never having the pleasure of meeting Dan Didio, his every response to questions regarding the current status of women in the DC universe can be justly characterized as hostile; see this response from last year’s Comicon as an example.

One gets the feeling that Didio is angry with women, or that he at the very least doesn’t think they should be allowed to play in his club house, which is weird since many women like myself were happily playing there before he came along and threw all our toys out the window and used the rest to make borderline porn. Sorry for the rant; I get passionate about Wonder Woman. My youngest daughter is named Diana.

David Willis also sums up how Didio’s approach to female characters is bad for business over here. Most frustratingly, it doesn’t matter how badly the current run of DC comics twists Wonder Woman or her Amazon sisters in the the marketplace of ideas. DC comics could publish a storyline so horrific that no one would ever buy Wonder Woman again, and the publishing run would continue. When William Moulton Marsten created Wonder Woman in the 1940′s, he signed a contract stating that if DC fails to publish a Wonder Woman title for 90 days, the rights to Wonder Woman revert to his heirs. DC almost dropped the ball once after Crisis on Infinite Earths (where Wonder Woman was actually killed off), and quickly ran a three issue filler storyline. That filler storyline, in which a classic Wonder Woman rescued a bratty little girl, was great. Afterwards she was rebooted again, and I wasn’t sorry; the new run by George Perez turned out to contain some of my favorite new Wonder Woman stories.

Gone are the days when I could maintain hope that one more reboot with a new writer might give me a good monthly Wonder Woman read. Alan Moore, who signed a similar deal for Watchmen, recently gave a sad interview about the current use of his Watchmen characters. It doesn’t matter how bad the new Watchmen comics are, DC will never go out of business because they own the liscensing rights to the originals. It doesn’t matter how bad the current Wonder Woman comics are, or if no one buys them, because DC makes loads of money from Wonder Woman lunchboxes, underwear, and toys.

Of course, those Wonder Woman products are bought by little girls who love their cartoon character, a hero who is strong and brave and kind, who hangs out with her friends in the Justice League and can be counted on to be a solid team player when the fate of the Earth is on the line. I wish I could say the same about the Wonder Woman in the current run of comics.

Interview: Jefferson Brassfield, screenwriter of Westender

Posted on April 9, 2012 by Alex in fantasy literature, interview, movies, writers, writing | Leave a comment

The DVD cover.

I took a chance on the 2003 movie Westender, based on the DVD cover image to the left.  I love fantasy films, and this one seemed unusually somber and even (dare I hope?) thoughtful, instead of the usually mayhem and scantily-clad girls (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

It turned out to be just that: a meditation on redemption, shot in the forests of Oregon with a minimal cast and a lot of creative energy. It also backed up something I’ve always believed: that low-budget genre movies aren’t terrible because their budgets are low, but because the people involved aren’t very talented. Here’s a low-budget film starring actors you’ve probably never heard of, shot essentially in the filmmakers’ back yards, and it’s just shy of brilliant.

I contacted screenwriter Jefferson Brassfield, and he was kind enough to answer some questions about this long-ago project.

Me: There’s a melancholy, world-weary quality to both Asbrey, the hero of Westender, and the overall story. You were all pretty young when you made the film, so where did that come from?

Jefferson Brassfield: For me, I think that pathos came from the divorce of my parents in my teens and then my first real romantic heartbreak my freshman year of college. I tend to approach feelings with an Apollonian reverie more than a Dionysian embrace, and did so especially when I was younger. Those two world-shattering-to-me events were very difficult to process and express in my logical fashion, so they got internalized, compartmentalized. Keeping issues with that much personal gravitas unaddressed and unresolved will slowly grind a person down, infect them with a melancholy and world-weariness they may not understand. From that place, it was easy to find a voice in Asbrey, a soldier who solves problems with violence. Burden him with a broken heart; a problem that no amount of violence will resolve, and he is helpless. He will slowly disintegrate. We meet him on that decline.

I’ve found that the trick in fantasy dialogue is finding to the balance between period distance and emotional immediacy. Also, it’s hard to suggest the speech of another time without sounding silly. Did you have any issues with that? How much of the dialogue in the film is directly from your script?

Most all of the dialogue is directly from the script, and I’m about 40% unashamed of that. For better or for worse, there’s not that much dialogue in the film. We knew that we weren’t dealing with a lot of serious, committed actors, so we didn’t want to slather up the dialogue with incongruous accents and purple prose. If we went too far trying to be clever with period vernacular, we ran the risk of not being able to pull it off. If we went too contemporary, it might seem insincere. Since it was an ambiguous fantasy setting, we tried to straddle the line between those two without annihilating suspension of disbelief. It was definitely an issue we were conscious of. Some scenes Blake Stanton (Asbrey) would feel right away that what he was saying seemed wrong and we’d work to fix it, but most of the time we just went with the script and hoped it would all come together in the editing room. A few scenes were successful in that, a few scenes weren’t.

How much of the visual symbolism was written, and how much discovered on set?

Most of the visual symbolism was conceived prior to filming. Westender was originally intended to be a long-form short film, and its structure grew out of two things: the locations in the Oregon wilderness we so loved and wanted to shoot, and the concept Brock (the director) had for the character of Asbrey. Blake and these gorgeous natural visuals were going to have to carry the film. Once I started working through the story itself, and once our short film became a feature, more appropriate symbolism emerged in the writing and brainstorming, and most all of it ended up in the movie. I’m trying to think of anything in this regard that arose in the moment or was realized in the editing room, but nothing is coming to mind. That stuff was all very conscious.

How much of a consideration was the budget to the writing process? 

Huge. As I mentioned before, Westender was originally meant to be a lengthy short film, so we knew we were going to have almost nothing to work with, budget-wise. The locations, the story, the film-making, and Blake’s performance were all we had. We couldn’t afford anything more than that. No crowds, no stunts, no elaborate shots, no fancy sets, no visual effects, tiny cast, and tiny crew that were both willing to eschew a warm soft bed and personal hygiene for a week or two with no pay. A few scenes were shot on our shoe-string budget and then production halted for for a series of forces majeure I can’t specifically recall. The footage was good. Brock pushed and fund-raised to make it into a bigger project. Once he had secured a healthier budget, we could make it into a feature with a few more bells and whistles, but we still had to cut every corner we knew we’d be turning. Not a heck of a lot was added into the script with our new budget, we just upgraded what was already there and what we already wanted to do. We could increase the amount of people to not pay.

How has the film affected your subsequent writing career?

We developed a Westender TV series with Gavin and Greg O’Connor, then it germinated at Paramount for a while, but it never happened. I really like the pilot script. I’ve written a few other screenplays, but nothing produced. I certainly feel like I’ve learned a lot from writing Westender. It’s a flawed film, but it’s the film we set out to make. I don’t really have a writing career, so I reckon it hasn’t affected my subsequent writing career too massively.

Thanks to Jefferson Brassfield for taking the time to talk with me.  Westender is available on DVD, and through Netflix.

The wacky comradeship of the Beats

Posted on April 2, 2012 by Alex in Jack Kerouac, writers, writing, writing advice | 1 Comment

“New York gets god-awful cold in the winter but there’s a feeling of wacky comradeship somewhere in some streets.”–Jack Kerouac

I love reading about the Beat Generation. This is not the same, I hasten to add, as actually reading the work of the Beats, which can be hard going for someone used to more traditional forms of writing. But the idea of them–that there was once this group of friends who, through their individual and collected works, managed to change the literary world, and maybe the actual world–fascinates me. I’ve just finished Door Wide Open: A Beat Love Affair in Letters, and have begun The Typewriter is Holy: The Complete, Uncensored History of the Beat Generation. And later this year, the long-awaited film adaptation of the definitive Beat novel, On the Road, comes out.

So what appeals to me about these men and women who wrote like “slob[s] running a temperature,” according to the Hudson Review? Why do I envy a group Charles Poore in the New York Times referred to as “a sideshow of freaks”?

Clockwise from left: Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Peter Orlovsky, Lafcadio Orlovsky, and Gregory Corso in 1956.

Like most writers, I’m a loner.  I can’t tell whether it’s because of something in my personality or the world at large, but at this point it’s habitual.  I imagine most writers are like that, since writing by its nature is a lone, solitary activity. I don’t mean I’m antisocial, or at least I hope I’m not. I try to be accessible and friendly. But the things that drive me, that are important to me and that guide my thinking…those things I keep to myself, for a simple and ironic reason: they’re almost impossible to convey in words.

The original group at the core of the Beats found a way around that, though. They formed a network of friendships and other relationships, with poet Allen Ginsberg at the center of the web. They shared living quarters, adventures, and romantic partners, all with a raw-nerved intensity. Sure, I recognize that youth was a big part of it, as was the particular historical moment and heavy substance abuse. And there’s no avoiding the narcissistic selfishness that kept them from more traditional connections (the only thing worse than being the romantic partner of a Beat was being the child of one). But even with all that, I envy their sense that here were people who understood, who got both the joy of being a writer trying to do something significant, and the sheer tedium of it. They got it.

Don’t get me wrong, I have good friends who are also good writers. But we e-mail and post on Facebook, instead of sitting up all night in San Francisco coffee shops. We see each other at comfortable conventions, instead of flophouses or jails. Most of us are concerned with living healthy, so we don’t chain-smoke or do hard drugs. Many of us have partners, and children, that we treasure. We’re products of our era just as the Beats were of theirs. And perhaps if I were 29 instead of 49, these connections would have the same effect on me as those espresso arguments had on the original Beats.

But I’m not. I’m a middle-aged guy with two kids, a wife and a mortgage, trying to make it in a world where screaming has replaced talking. I don’t have the option of dropping out the way the Beats did, or of dictating my own terms. And even if I did, I’m not sure I would; a number of the Beats ended up tragically, the result of an inability to handle substances and/or success. Their moment was fleeting, even for them.

Still, once they were the network of the cool: Ginsberg to Kerouac to Cassady to Corso to Burroughs, and so on and so forth. People who understood what the others were experiencing, what the struggle to create something meaningful was like. People who got it, man.

Tropes on the ropes: things I avoid

Posted on March 26, 2012 by Alex in Horror Films, writing | 12 Comments

How I often feel about today's horror movies.

When I was a kid–and my kid-hood stretched well into my twenties–nothing in the horror genre bothered me. Some things made deep impressions, of course (the climax of Night of the Living Dead, for example, introduced me to nihilism), but it didn’t trouble me or give me the kind of nightmares that make you swear off things. And I was up for anything, from the various Friday the 13th slasher murders to the lascivious decapitated head in Re-Animator. My absolute favorite horror film, Dawn of the Dead, remains one of the genre’s goriest even now.

I’m not sure when that changed, or why. I only know it has. There are simply some emotions I have no desire to feel, especially in my “entertainment.” I won’t read or watch anything that I know includes them, and I’ll turn something off or close the book if I encounter them with no warning. And I’m wondering if it’s just me getting wimpy in my middle age, or if other people also experience this.

Not all of them are inexplicable, though. A big one for me is anything that focuses on the terror, pain or deaths of children. The source of that is easy, and I can hear it banging around downstairs as I write this. I’ve heard from other parents that that they’ve experienced something similar, so I know I’m not alone. It’s a visceral, emotional response that I simply don’t want to feel. I still get queasy thinking about a scene from American Horror Story where a doctor was sewing pieces of his dead baby together. If it makes me a wimp, then, I can accept that.

This year's model of the smug, petty villain.

A much more personal thing is the handsome, smug, petty villain. This one is new, and has manifested only in the past ten years or so. Watching Downton Abbey with my wife, I was totally unprepared for my reaction to Thomas the scheming footman: absolute, full-on rage. And while I understand that I’m putting his face on people from my own past, and that the rage is really directed at them and not the character, it doesn’t help me “enjoy” the show. In fact, it sort of makes me dread watching it, much as I’d dread running into those same people. It’s also kept me from enjoying many ostensible comedies, which often feature this sort of character as the main bad guy.

Getting back to horror, I also don’t enjoy lingering shots of people in pain, which means I avoid the whole “torture porn” subgenre. The horror films I grew up with may have featured high body counts and outlandishly gory death scenes, but they didn’t include lingering, almost pornographic shots of people (usually women) in agony. This started, in my view, with Wes Craven, whose cleverness goes hand-in-hand with his sadism, and became a genre of its own with the first Saw. Whenever I see one of these films advertised, I picture a bunch of twenty-something young men in a film editing room, drinking, farting and laughing hysterically at their own cleverness. It’s the frat boy approach to horror, and as an adult, I have no interest in exposing myself to any more of it. (Whether horror even counts as an “adult” genre is something I’ve long pondered, and still haven’t resolved for myself.)  I’m also reminded of something Mike Nelson wrote:

“[It] makes one wonder how, with movie making being such a formidable task, requiring so much drive and vision, how could an individual choose to put so much ugliness on screen?”

I also don’t enjoy creators who get readers/audiences emotionally attached to characters they plan to capriciously kill off. It’s one reason I’ve avoided, and plan to continue avoiding, A Game of Thrones. It’s not really a criticism, since this doesn’t bother most readers and viewers, and of course drama must be able to include death. But I’ve lost enough real people in my life that I simply get no pleasure from losing fictional ones due to a creator’s arbitrary decisions. And honestly, I feel this sort of thing violates an unspoken contract between creator and consumer. Real life is capricious enough; one reason I like fiction is the security of knowing that events will make sense. When they don’t, at some level I feel betrayed.

I get less visceral reactions to some of the trite and obvious (not to mention unrealistic) tropes in more general forms of entertainment: the fat schlubby guy who wins the hot girl, sex scenes where the actress keeps her bra on, the whole Manic Pixie Dream Girl concept, the idea that immaturity is something to be treasured, and so forth. Part of it is simply that, as a writer, I recognize how false these concepts are. The rest is weariness: have you got nothing new?

And now, I’m asking you. What tropes/plot points/thematic elements do you deliberately avoid, and why? Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win a copy of the Burn Me Deadly paperback, which includes a sneak peek of Wake of the Bloody Angel. Deadline is midnight, April 2.

Guest blog: Alyxandra Harvey

Posted on March 18, 2012 by Alex in guest blog, writers, writing, writing advice | 1 Comment

Alyxandra Harvey

Alyxandra Harvey is the author of numerous YA paranormal books, including the ongoing Drake Chronicles.  Here she talks about some aspects of her chosen genre and how she relates to her fans.

*****

First, an apology.

I’m sorry if I’ve become homework.

And I’m sorry if part of me finds that pretty freaking cool.

I get many requests for help on school assignments. Unfortunately, I’m rarely able to answer them— not because I don’t want to, but because when it’s school project season, I get handfuls of those requests every day. Enough so that I’ve added a section on my website with the kind of information students might need. I write about vampires, Victorian ghosts, Fae, zombies… that’s a lot of ground to cover!

Like all writers, I get asked about the craft.

The bad news is: there’s no secret handshake.

The good news is: there’s no secret handshake

So, my advice is pretty basic: write. Sounds simple, right? But a lot of people want to be writers— they don’t necessarily want to write. If you love to write, you’re halfway there already.

Keep at it. Like anything else, you need practice. Learn to finish something: a poem, a short story, a novella. The fire at the beginning of a story can flicker once you’re a few chapters in. You can get distracted by shiny idea #15, and that one over there., and wait is that Dean Winchester? Mr. Darcy? (okay those last 2 might just be me!)… so learn to finish. It’s a skill like any other.

And because I write vampire YA, I often get asked about Twilight, vampires, and cute boys. When I went on book tour in the UK, I was asked at least once every day if I know Justin Bieber (this is because I’m Canadian. And the answer is no, just in case you’re wondering). I also get asked what kind of supernatural creature I would be, which is so much more interesting than your average interview or essay question. And the answer: I would like to be a time traveler. I’m not sure if that counts as a supernatural creature but I’d just really like to visit different periods in history (Regency, Victorian, Ancient Egypt, Iron Age Celts, Middle Ages…) but still come home for my hot shower and ice cream. A girl has to have her priorities, after all.

The really wonderful thing about writing YA fiction is that every so often, I get to travel around visiting libraries and schools. I get to chat with anywhere from 20 to 300 students, all of whom have brilliant insights that would put university lit profs to shame. I am consistently impressed by the calibre of those questions. They make me think about my characters, the reading culture, and writing in general. You are such a brighter star than you think you are. Don’t be afraid to ask those questions.

Blood Moon

Another reason I love all those questions? I basically spend my days alone talking to my imaginary friends…and then suddenly on book tour I have to think of interesting things to say to people who actually talk back! So those questions? They save my poor shy writer’s brain.

And I usually have questions of my own to ask…Principally, if you could live in a book, which one would it be? (So far, Harry Potter is winning). Discuss.

Oops. That sounds like more homework.

*****

Alyxandra Harvey’s books include Haunting Violet, Stolen Away, and most recently, Blood Moon.  You can find out more at her website here.

Guest blog: the resurrection of Wonder Woman

Posted on March 5, 2012 by Alex in comic books, writers, writing | 5 Comments

Ever since working on an essay for a subsequently-cancelled SmartPop collection, I’ve been fascinated with attitudes toward Wonder Woman.  My friend Elizabeth Keathley, a much more well-read and long-term fan, was kind enough to write about the character’s recent history.

*****

Adele Kirby as WW. Photo (c) 2012 by Sean O'Malley. Body paint by Natasha Bloom (links below)

I have two daughters, ages three and five. When I was around their ages, I wore through more than one set of Wonder Woman underoos, and I don’t just mean that I outgrew them. I was forbidden to play with string after cutting off one of my mom’s gold-tone window shade pulls for lasso action. I once got in a kindergarten shoving match on the bus because my neighbor Michael Garber tried to tell me The Dukes of Hazzard could beat Wonder Woman. When I was 26, I emailed another childhood friend, Virgil Pool, with a scan of a page from Wonder Woman 175, where she won a fight against Superman. The text of my email? “You owe me a billion dollars from a bet in 3rd grade”.

Virgil is now an executive with the South’s largest banking firm. I work in Digital Asset Management for a large multinational concern. We keep in touch, because once a love of comics really takes root with a child, it never fully disappears. When we do see each other, we catch up on comics gossip, and of course last year that meant talking about the digital re-launch of DC comics.

Periodically DC and Marvel – the two big superhero houses of American comics – “relaunch” their titles, starting the cover numbering over at 1, and changing things up. Teams get shuffled, costumes and hairstyles updated, personalities shift. These relaunches are ostensibly done to give new readers an entry point to the long and convoluted storylines of the comic book world. It is also true that any book with the number one on it tends to sell a little bit better than average, and that really counts today, when the number of regular comic book readers is estimated to be somewhere around just 250,000 individuals.

When there are more choices than DC and Marvel, the writing and art must be top-notch to keep up readership. Given this tough market, in the past decade Marvel decided to invest in great writers, and for the first time did things that made me want to read Daredevil and even take a peek back at the X-men. DC went a different route. They gave their head editor position to Dan Didio, and he decided that the problem with DC comics was that they weren’t catering enough to young men. He wanted to make DC edgier and sexier. He did, and women fans (including myself) fell away in droves, some going so far as to start up protest sites like Girl-Wonder.org. Why protest a shift in comic book editorial policy? You can read more about that over on Girl Wonder, but basically Didio decided that appealing to younger men meant a rape storyline, some art many consider to be torture porn, and the death or demotion of most of the main female heroines of the DC universe.

So another DC comics relaunch, this time with a digital component focused on the iPad market, excited me. At last, I thought, Time/Warner is going to lay down the profit law on DC comics. The animated TV series have audiences in the millions, and remain so popular that Cartoon Network plans to soon launch a new programming block around DC comics characters. I had hoped – as had many others with children, I like to think – that the digital relaunch would align the comic book Wonder Woman and Supergirl with the cartoon Wonder Woman and Supergirl.

Alas, under Dan Didio’s editorial vision, the new Supergirl comes with crotch snaps.

I would like for my daughters to learn to love reading comics. I have given them copies of Little Lit and reprints of Uncle Scrooge and copies of Asterix that my husband picked up in Europe as a child. My oldest picked up Mouse Guard from our shelf and read it on her own, along with a little of Bone. Until recently I had settled on the fact that while my daughters will learn to love comics, it won’t be the superhero comics that I read as a child. I was a little sad that Supergirl and Wonder Woman were destined to be second-string cartoon characters to them.

I was surprised when my friend Elle excitedly emailed a recommendation that I read the first four issues of the new run of Wonder Woman. The new run written by Brian Azzarello calls back to the work of Greg Rucka in 2003 by re-instituting a Greek Gods storyline. While Rucka’s quest-for-father storyline centered on Cassie – Wonder Girl – Azzarello puts Diana square in the middle of the Joseph Campbell cliché. The art by Cliff Chang gives us lots of close-ups, but thankfully gone is the cheesecake soft-core porn that sometimes made me embarrassed to buy the title in the past. There’s still plenty of comic-book violence, and even a make-out scene in issue three, but I wouldn’t have a problem handing these comics to a ten-year-old girl to read.

I will continue to borrow Wonder Woman issues from my friends for now, swapping them for volumes from the library of graphic novels I’ve built up since the fall of 2004. If Wonder Woman continues to be a readable, fun book, I might just go back to buying monthly issues again – this time on the iPad. If the story stays well written – and doesn’t echo much of the Jill Presto arc of Lucifer – maybe one day I’ll even share the files with my daughters. I still think that the cartoon versions of the DCU characters are better written and produced right now, but when you’re a Wonder Woman fan, you take what you can get – and just pray the artist remembers to cover Wonder Woman’s crotch.

*****

Elizabeth Ferguson Keathley has been reading comics since she could read, and engaging publicly about them since a fight in third grade. She has appeared as the feminist guest speaker on a couple of podcasts
over at Fortress of Baileytude, but mostly specializes in showing up at DragonCon panels and asking questions. In her professional life, Elizabeth works with Digital Asset Management (DAM) systems, and is chair of the DAM Foundation HR & Talent committee. Elizabeth swore off single-issue comics six years ago and instead has too many shelves of graphic novels.

*****

Adele Kirby: http://www.adelekirby.com/

Natasha Bloom: http://www.natashamakeup.com/

5 Things Not to Say to a Writer’s Wife

Posted on February 27, 2012 by Alex in family, writers, writing, writing advice | 10 Comments

Valette with the C-in-C and the Squirrel Boy

I’ve written many times, on this and other blogs, about the challenges of being a full-time writer and stay-at-home parent. I’ve alluded to the difficulty of living with someone like me, but of course I can never truly know what it’s like. My wife, however, knows exactly what living with a writer is like, and in this post she talks about it. Thanks to Valette Piper-Bledsoe for writing the following.

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I’ve read plaintive blog posts about the writer’s life–the struggle to find productive creative time, the conflicting demands of family and work, the siren call of YouTube or solitaire. All perfectly valid, of course. I live with a writer, and I see that it’s a calling as much as anything else–something one does because one must and not necessarily because it’s glamorous or fun.

But it’s no picnic being a writer’s wife, either.* If you happen to meet one, here are a few things not to say:

1. You must work because you really like your job, because writers make soooo much money.

Hah, hah, hee, ha, snort…sorry. While I like my job and happen to be good at it, I work because we need two incomes. It’s a sad reality that most writers–the vast majority, I’d venture to say–are not rich. The number of fiction writers who can support themselves and their families solely on their writing income is probably very, very small. My job also provides benefits such as health insurance, dental and vision care, and pension contributions. Even the most successful writers must fund those (and pay taxes) themselves. Of course, if you’re Stephen King, John Grisham or Nora Roberts, I don’t think that’s much of an issue for you. Most writers–even the ones who make a living at it–aren’t in that league.

2. Oh, you poor thing, having to support your husband.

Conversely, those who don’t assume we’re rich, assume that “writer” is code for unemployable bum. Nothing could be further from the truth. My husband works, and works hard. Writing is his job, and he takes it seriously, approaching it with immense discipline. Writing isn’t just staring out the window or at a computer screen, thinking deep thoughts (even if that’s sometimes what it looks like). Like any creative labor, it requires a great deal of energy, time and dedication. Most mid-list writers these days can add “marketer” and “publicist” to their job duties. Writing good books isn’t enough–you need to blog and tweet, maintain a Facebook page, make the rounds at conventions, and in general put yourself out there. In my husband’s case, he does all of this, writes amazing books, and takes care of our two small children. Hell yes, I support him; I applaud him.

3. I don’t really like science fiction or fantasy, but I’ll guess I’ll read your husband’s book if you give me one.

If my mother–the woman who endured 48 hours of anesthesia-free labor to bring me into this world–can buy my husband’s books, so can you. Especially if you’re so worried about my family’s financial state (see #2). Publishing is a business. Great critical reviews and awards are nice, but the bottom line is sales. So go buy a damn book. Hardcover is super, paperback or e-reader is lovely. If you’re struggling, go to a library and ask them to order a copy. It all adds up. Don’t think someone else is going to buy a book. Sales matter. My children and I thank you.

4. I’ve always wanted to write a book! Can your husband recommend me to his agent/publisher?

Alex has always been generous with his time and experience, helping beginning writers through workshops and speaking to local students. He remembers what it was like starting out. He can tell you how he did it, how to find an agent, give you tips on how to write an agent pitch. But no, he’s not going to recommend you to his agent–who is a lovely person, a good agent and has a perfectly good website with information about the kind of submissions she’s looking for. First, you might want to actually write that book. I bet you find it’s a lot harder than you think (see #2).

5. Oh writers, aren’t they all … depressed, alcoholic, crazy, fill-in-the-blank.

While I’ll admit that a cliche exists around creative types for a reason, just because someone is a writer doesn’t mean they’re nuts. All writers are not Ernst Hemingway. Or Hunter S. Thompson. Or Sylvia Plath. Or…okay, so there are a lot of examples. Anyway, not all writers are drunk, crazy or suicidal. Alex happens to be a funny, sweet person–a wonderful husband and father. Many other writers we know are also kind, funny, happy, normal people, no more likely to down a fifth of Scotch or kick their dogs than your average doctor, lawyer or computer programmer. They’re writers, not musicians, for Pete’s sake (just kidding).

Not that living with a writer is all sunshine and roses. There’s the staring into space during dinner as they process a plot point, the sudden rush to the laptop because they thought of a perfect line for a character, the pouting because they have to go on a family outing instead of editing, the sudden influx of say, books about pirates…

But that’s a different post.

Valette, proud to be a writer’s wife

* I say wife because I am one, but spouse works just as well, I should think.

Twilight vs Harry Potter: Leaving Space

Posted on February 17, 2012 by Alex in Twilight, writers, writing, writing advice | 3 Comments

This was recently posted on the website Learn from my Fail:

“I got into an argument with this at school. She was of the opinion that Twilight was better than Harry Potter. Her reasoning? Harry Potter’s characters had too much personality, while Twilight’s characters were blank and boring enough that she could put herself in their places.”

Space available?

Now, before you say anything snarky, consider this, from best-selling (and in my opinion, genius) writer Elmore Leonard. In his ten rules for writing, number eight is:

“Avoid detailed descriptions of characters, which Steinbeck covered. In Ernest Hemingway’s ‘Hills Like White Elephants’, what do the ‘American and the girl with him’ look like? ‘She had taken off her hat and put it on the table.’ That’s the only reference to a physical description in the story.”

Now, my question is, are we dealing with the same thing?

Because really, the Twilight reader has a valid point, and probably one of the best explanations for Stephanie Meyer’s success despite the critical drubbing she’s taken from the literary establishment. Her characters are so basic, so lacking in the details of what we normally consider personality, that it probably is easy to insert your own personality in their place. Writing classes and most professional writers would call this “bad,” but is it something from which the rest of us ostensibly “good” writers could benefit?

Excessive complexity?

I confess, allowing readers to insert their own personalities into my characters is not a priority in my writing. I try to make my characters believable, understandable, and interesting; if I get that right, I assume readers will be able to both sympathize and empathize, which are similar but not quite the same thing as inserting yourself into the story. If anything, I (and scads of other writers, all less successful than Stephanie Meyer) try to make our characters as detailed as possible, if not physically than certainly psychologically. One of my favorite writing comments, by director/screenwriter David Koepp, is (and I’m paraphrasing) that the more specific we make a character, the easier it is for the reader/viewer to see the universal aspects of it.

So are we going about this all wrong? Are we not leaving enough space for the reader?

I don’t think so, but then again, I wouldn’t, would I? What do you think?

Guest blog: Deborah Blake on maladaptive intertia

Posted on January 30, 2012 by Alex in writers, writing, writing advice | 18 Comments

Author Deborah Blake

Deborah Blake is the author of six nonfiction books and the paranormal romance Witch Ever Way You Can, as well as the excellent short story “Dead and (Mostly) Gone,” found in The Pagan Anthology of Short Fiction, along with my story, “Draw Down.” Deborah has been kind enough to write about a condition every author has, or will, experience.

(And catch my guest blog on her site, along with a giveaway, here.)

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You’ve probably heard of “inertia.” It is actually a physics term that refers to the fact that a body at rest tends to stay at rest. You probably haven’t heard of “maladaptive inertia,” however. That’s because I made it up. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real. In fact, I’m guessing you’ve suffered from it once or twice, without even knowing it. Allow me to ‘splain.

I came up with the term maladaptive inertia years ago to describe the condition when it is just easier to keep doing more-or-less nothing (play one more game of solitaire on the computer, watch just one more show on TV) than it is to make yourself get moving on the things you actually NEED to do. So you waste lots of time and energy that you don’t have, and end up with that same old to-do list staring you in the face. Hence the “maladaptive.” This is not a time spent resting and rejuvenating, it serves no useful purpose, you know you’re doing it and that it isn’t good…and yet…there you are. Still sitting on your arse. Maladaptive inertia.

Admittedly, it makes for a good excuse. “Sorry I didn’t write that blog post for you, I had maladaptive inertia.” “I can’t take out the garbage, honey, I have maladaptive inertia.” Feel free to borrow it. [As long as you give me credit for coming up with it. I’m going to write a book about it. You know—as soon as I get over my maladaptive inertia.]

For writers, maladaptive inertia can be particularly tough. I had to put aside the novel I’d started in November, to deal with the December rush at my day job (I run an artists’ cooperative, so the holiday season is crazy time). Once the rush was over, I intended to jump right back into working on the writing. But I had…you guessed it. The truth is; it is a whole lot easier to KEEP writing than it is to START writing. Or to start up again.

So how do you get over maladaptive inertia, and get back to your writing (or taking out the garbage, or whatever it is you are supposed to be doing that is useful, rewarding, and necessary)?

Here are a couple of the things that work best for me:

Keep plugging away at it. Don’t say, “Well, I’ve tried for three days to get back to my writing (or whatever). It hasn’t worked, so I give up.” Keep kicking yourself until you JUST DO IT.

Have your friends help you. When I am trying to get back into exercising, a friend and I often call each other up and say, “Okay—I just did 20 minutes. Tag, you’re it.” There is nothing like a friend to kick your butt into gear when you can’t do it on your own.

Set rules and rewards. For instance, when I am trying to get back into the writing zone, I’ll tell myself – no Twitter until you’ve written SOMETHING. Or, you don’t get a glass of wine until you’ve done at least three pages. (I find that one particularly motivating. But you can substitute chocolate, or whatever you like, such as watching your favorite TV show.)

Mostly, I find that it works to just get started on the writing, no matter what it takes. Because once you’ve started something, it is easier to keep working on it. Remember that other rule of physics: A body in motion is likely to stay in motion.

So put down the remote, walk away from the internet, or do whatever it is you have to do to break your pattern of maladaptive inertia. You can do it! I just wrote five pages. Tag—you’re it.

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Thanks to Deborah for sharing her insight. You can find out more about her at her website.