Try/Fail: What I've Learned.

This is a sort of half-post copied from a status update on Facebook. A proper post on the subject is likely to follow soon.
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For years, I've been hearing about the "try/fail" cycle in regards to writing fiction. That's where your protagonist tries to solve the main problem of the story, and fails before ultimately succeeding. The common advice is "third time's the charm"--that is, the protagonist must fail twice before success.

The three tries formula has never sat right with me. Too formulaic, I guess (ha), too predictable in regards to the basic plot.

But I've just realized that, deconstructing what I'm working now to its most basic form, the protagonist tries twice unsuccessfully to solve the problem, before succeeding at the end. Maybe, the try/fail cycle rules are like most pacing or character or setting rules--troubleshooting. When something goes wrong in writing, they are something to look at, shorthand to fix it. Not restrictions. 

David Farland's free resource "NaNoWriMo Inspirations", found on his site www.mystorydoctor.com (once you've registered, also free), helped me to look at the try/fail cycle in a completely different way. I'm only a third through it, and it's already helped me a great deal.

The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug Review

This review contains spoilers for The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.

I am a huge fan of The Hobbit. It's easily my favorite book by Tolkien, and one of my favorite books in Fantasy. I loved what Peter Jackson managed to do with The Lord of the Rings trilogy; The Two Towers is on the list of my favorite movies of all time. Lastly, Guillermo del Toro is one of my favorite directors. Needless to say, I was excited to watch The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.

Needless to say, at least to those of you who have seen it, I was a bit disappointed.

An Unexpected Journey was a mixed bag. It returned us to the beauty of Tolkien's Middle Earth, reunited us with Gandalf and Gollum, and introduced us to a dozen colorful, if not all memorable, characters, in the dwarfs. But most of all, it gave us Martin Freeman as a young Bilbo. There was beautiful landscape exhilarating battles, and one song that stayed stuck in my head for days after watching it. Guillermo del Toro's fingerprints on this Middle Earth added a needed flair the series.

But the movie also gave us a half-hour history lesson for a prologue, extraneous scenes, and mood whiplash. It was uneven, rushed in some places, drawn out in others, and just overall, felt like the very long first installment to a three-part adaptation of a rather short book. I neither loved it nor hated it.

I had this on my mind as I sat down to watch its sequel, The Desolation of Smaug. My expectations were suitably lowered.

They needn't have been. The Desolation of Smaug is ten times as good as An Unexpected Journey. If it's not quite as good as the original Lord of the Rings trilogy, it's a movie I have no hesitation in recommending.

The acting is solid from beginning to end. Benedict Cumberbatch is the shining star of the movie; his performance as Smaug captures the dragon with depth and complexity perhaps even beyond the book. Ian McKellen is wonderful as Gandalf, of course. Martin Freeman's Bilbo is nuanced and subtle, and Richard Armitage captures Thorin Oakenshield's obsession perfectly. The only performance I take issue with is Ryan Gage as the lackey of the Master of Lake town--and this performance wasn't precisely bad, but was rather outclassed by every other main player on screen.

The score is as wonderful as ever, a true service to the development of the narrative. For instance, every time the One Ring comes on screen, you can hear faint traces of its theme from the main trilogy. The Ring is a background player throughout much of the story, perhaps moreso than some of the dwarfs, and the music keeps you from forgetting the truth of it.

The tone is far more even in this second installment than it was in the first, and manages to maintain a balance between the quirkiness that The Hobbit demands and the solemnity that any story involving the One Ring deserves. The suspenseful scenes, such as the first appearance of the Elvenking Thranduil, run smoothly and convincingly, while the over-the-top, almost goofy, action scenes entertain and amuse. Neither seems out of place.

What does seem out of place, however is some of immense amount of content that is added that wasn't in the book. There is an all-new character created specifically for the screen which demonstrates this perfectly. I applaud the addition of this new character, and for most of the movie, I look forward to the moments she is on screen. However, she becomes a part of a subplot that is unnecessary and unwelcome padding, which makes it disconcertingly easy to dismiss her character as equally frivolous.

The subplot of the Necromancer continues to unfold, now fitting into the whole more naturally. On the other hand, the entire climax serves as padding and build-up for the last movie.

There are two points working for this movie that cannot be overstated.

First is Smaug. I realize I have touched on him before, but I can't express how perfect his execution was. He was my adolescent imaginings brought to wondrous life. The effects, from his movement to the texture to the lighting, to his expressions, to the voice acting and and audio work, to his integration with the live action performances, is something you must see to believe. He alone is worth the ticket price.

The other thing working in this film's favor is the unparalleled way in which Middle Earth is brought to life. Never--not in An Unexpected Journey, not in the original trilogy, not in any work of fiction set on a secondary world--have I felt so drawn in to the world itself. never have I felt transported, as a book can transport me. This is a landmark in the industry, and will be a benchmark by which I judge the immersion of Fantasy films in the future.

Let me be clear: This movie has many changes from the book. Some minor, some overreaching. Some good, some bad. Most were necessary, even if they did not work for one reason or another. As an adaptation, it may disappoint hardcore fans of the book. As a movie in its own right, it is a success. As a piece to the greater whole, it can be spoken of in the same breath as The Two Towers, even if there is never any doubt which is better.

I'm giving The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug 8 out of 10. If you like Fantasy, Dragons, or incredible CGI, watch this movie. If you don't, watch it anyway, and you will.

Catching Fire Review

It was awesome. The end.

What? You want more? Ok. Everything that was good about the first movie has been improved in the second. Everything that was bad about the first one is less noticeable in the second.

Possibly the greatest strength of The Hunger Games was the casting. Donald Sutherland as Snow, Woody Harrelson as Haymitch, Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss, Lenny Kravitz as Cinna. Catching Fire added Philip Seymour Hoffman as Heavensbee and Sam Claflin as Finnick, both of whom are perfect choices for their roles, and play them wonderfully. In fact, every performance in the movie was good at the very worst, excepting perhaps Willow Shields as Prim, who could be a bit wooden at times.

After the casting and the acting, the fidelity with the book was The Hunger Games’ strongest point, and again it is even stronger here. Catching Fire was loyal enough that, as a reader of the book, I was able to relax and trust the filmmakers to take me where I needed to go. They had to cut a few things of course, but most of what they cut is hardly noticeable, and some actually tightens the flow of the plot. I wish that they would have explained a main plot element just a little better, because I worry that some people might be confused. But other than that, I can see the reasoning behind any cut they made, even when they cut something I wished they’d have been able to keep.

The music was solid. There were only a couple of points during which I remember noticing it being particularly good, but I never had an issue with it.

One of the points in the original movie that I disliked, but that I grew to look forward to in the sequel, were the scenes away from the main character. In the books, the entire story is told from the perspective of Katniss, but in the movie adaptations, they chose to explain things to the audience that Katniss did not know. In the first movie, I felt—and still feel—that this was a weakness. But in Catching Fire, most of these end up being scenes between Snow and Heavensbee (between Sutherland and Hoffman), whose interplay is enjoyable and informative, particularly for someone who has read the books or watched the movie previously. I love these scenes.

Perhaps the weakest point of the movie was the same as the first one—that the filmmakers had to make small changes to the execution of the story in order to maintain a PG-13 rating. A couple of seconds here or there were cut or toned down, and one sequence in particular suffers from a shaky camera that never quite seems to focus on the action. But even this has been improved upon, so that it’s only truly noticeable in the one sequence, unless you’ve read the books and are looking for the places they toned down.

I was on the edge of my seat for much of the movie, and walked out of the theater completely satisfied with a film for the first time this year. I give Catching Fire an 8.5 out of 10. If it weren’t for a few minor gripes, it would get a 9.

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Ok, here’s the part where I warn about spoilers ahead. :)

These are mainly minor gripes that didn’t really influence how much I enjoyed the movie. Altogether, they cost the movie half a point.

I wasn’t totally happy with the execution of the fog. It seemed like there was an invisible line—on one side, they weren’t hurt by the fog, on the other, they were getting burned alive. I would have been happier if there had been a middle area where the fog caused minor damage. I was also disappointed by how effective the salt water was—that it just washed away the poison. I would have preferred if there had been marks left on them, irritation from where the poison had touched, even after the salt water had leeched it from them.

I was disappointed that they had to cut the foreshadowing for District 13. I could see why they did it, and even why it was necessary, but it made the reveal at the end a bit jarring.

Likewise, I wish they hadn’t needed to cut the explanation of the previous Quarter Quells and Haymitch’s victory. I would have been willing to sit the extra ten minutes for these elements to be explained, but I’m not sure everyone would have. They made the right decision, but I wish they hadn’t needed to.

I thought that a couple of scenes felt slightly rushed. Again, they had to be, for the sake of time, so I don’t hold it against the movie too much. 

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All right! There's my opinion of it! What did you think of it? Feel free to comment and let me know!

While I Dream

I've said it before, but I mean to support myself with my writing. Eventually. For now, I write when I have the time and fantasize about having more.

And I do fantasize.

I think about the stupidest things.

Like, I want my name to never be larger than the title of the book, on the cover. I don't trust authors whose names are larger than the book's title. To me, it suggests that they value themselves more than the stories they tell, that they aren't willing to sacrifice for what they have.

It's stupid, I know. No one thinks in those terms. And authors don't even get to have an opinion about the layout of the cover, half the time. Having your name larger than the book title means the publishing firm thinks your name has grown into a brand, that it sells books better than the book title. It means you're popular. That's it.

But I spent years reading books, thinking, "Wow, this guy's arrogant. His name is twice as large as the book title, and four times as long as the series title." And I don't want my readers to think that when they pick up my book.

Another thing I think: I prefer the headers to contain the book title and chapter title, respectively, rather than putting the author name there. I'd rather my readers remember the name of my book, and not have to flip pages to remember the name of the chapter. They'll actively set out to learn my name, if I do my job right.

I know, another thing I likely won't have control over. But there it is.

Finally, I think about the picture in my About Me. I want to be smiling, I've decided. I want to smile at my readers. I want my picture to say:

"Thank you for reading my work, and if you've bought it, thank you so much for that. I care about you. I care about your hopes and dreams, your ultimate goals and those little things you always mean to do but never get around to. I really, really do. And I sincerely hope that my work has brightened this little piece of your life. Thank you."

These are the kind of things I think about while I dream.

Things I Can't Tolerate In Writing

I don't use these in my writing. I can't stand them. They're more than pet peeves; they crawl under my skin and irritate. They're poison to my enjoyment of the story.

This doesn't mean I hate you as a person, or even an author, if you use these in your work. It doesn't even mean I hate your story. But if your story contains any of these, you'd better have a compelling reason for me to continue reading. Because I usually put the book down.

1) Love Triangle.

I'm not going to be kind here. A LOVE TRIANGLE WILL NOT IMPROVE YOUR STORY. Period. There have been a handful of stories in the course of mankind where a love triangle was appropriate, useful, and entertaining. A handful in which a love triangle was an improvement to the story.

Yours isn't one of those.

Yes, I'm talking to you.

A love triangle is a contrived device to aid the also overused "will they, won't they" plot. The difference between the two? "Will they, won't they" can and has been told in new, interesting ways. Observe the Iron Man series, in which Pepper and Stark have a slow falling-together sort of romance. But there's always this question: Is Tony capable of caring about someone else more than he cares about himself? And is he able to express that?

Love Triangles, on the other hand, are trite and pathetic. The best execution I've ever seen has been in the Hunger Games trilogy, and that was strictly bearable. It would have been a better series had that not been a part of it.

I put down the Mortal Instruments series as soon as the triangle popped up. Note: I tolerated other serious offenses, but as soon as this happened, I stopped reading. AS SOON AS IT HAPPENED.

You are not immune to the harm it can do. You are not immune to me putting down the book.

2) School Days.

I've been through school. Elementary, Middle, and High School, I've been to them. I know what they're like. I didn't enjoy my time there. I wouldn't go back if I could.

Want to know a secret? 99.9% of readers feel the exact same way. If you put your characters in school, you need to be ready for the consequences. Just today, I put down a story when it revealed that the characters would be attending school.

School is not an interesting framework for a story.

School is not an original setting.

School is not innovating your genre, whatever genre you're writing in.

Consider: Must my character be in that age range?

Consider: Why can't my characters be out of school for one reason or another (summer break, school having burned down, kids skipping class--all are viable options)?

Consider: Why do these scenes need to take place during school hours? Could they not happen in the evening?

Ok, granted. if you're writing for Middle Grade or Young Adult, I might let you get away with this. Assuming you don't try to make me attend Math class. Then the book will burn.

Also granted, if you make it interesting enough, I will work through it. The Giver, by Lois Lowry, has a scene near the very beginning that's set in school. The difference? Lowry uses this everyday activity to point out that this is a totalitarian society that controls how people think, and it starts in school. Similarly, Halo: The Fall of Reach has children learning about the ancient Greeks in class. The difference? These children have been abducted from their homes and are being brainwashed into becoming the Sci-Fi equivalent to Spartan soldiers. (Both of these books are must-reads, whether you're into Sci-Fi or not, whether you're into Halo or not.)

You see where I'm going here? Your version of school will not impress me. Don't try, unless you're doing something truly incredible.

3) Character Mulch

I'm fine with an author killing off a character. I'm fine with an author who kills off a handful of characters in every book. I'm fine with an author who kills main characters, even unexpectedly. There's nothing like a main character death to set the "Anyone Can Die" mood in your stories. Nothing affects the reader to that degree, and nothing raises that much tension.

Heck, I've done it myself, more than once. Whenever the story demands a character die, I do it without the slightest hesitation.

What I'm not fine with, what I can't stand, what will make me throw down the book in disgust, is when an author kills off a character to set the mood, and doesn't consider the repercussions.

A comic book reviewer named Lewis Lovhaug (also known as Linkara) briefly described the main problem with doing this. To put it simply, you need to consider: Does killing this character provide me with more opportunities to tell great stories than I'd have if I left a character alive? Or in other words, DOES KILLING THIS CHARACTER IMPROVE MY STORY?

That's pretty vague. When you look at the surface, of course! Shocking the reader, producing emotion, is a good thing. So if you aren't sure what I mean by that, I'll go in better depth.

Does the character you're thinking of killing have an arc? A journey that he or she goes through during the story, coming out a different person? If the death is supposed to matter, the character should. And if the death isn't supposed to matter, then WHY KILL THEM in the first place???

If your character has an arc, has he or she completed that personal journey at the point you're thinking of killing him or her off? Nine times out of ten, you shouldn't kill a character before he or she completes the arc you've designed.

The only exception to that last rule is "Kill 'em All" stories, in which the unpredictability, horror, and inevitability of death is the point. This is a step beyond "Anyone Can Die". This is "George R. R. Martin must be ghost writing". This is a story set in the Vietnam war, or a guerrilla resistance of an invasion from China.

The last guideline I'll give is this: If the character has a name, don't kill them off-screen. I'm looking at you, Feist. I'm looking at you, Rowling. If the character has a name, particularly if he or she has been around for at least one year (real world or in-world), don't kill him or her off-screen. And for God's sake, don't make the death embarrassing if the character is famous for being capable or intelligent!

If you disobey any of these rules, I might not put your book down (these tend to happen more than halfway through the book), but I will refuse to recommend the book to friends. Unless the rest of your story is so awesome as to overwhelm these.

Rowling, for instance. Harry Potter has all three of these. And other problems, besides. But the rest of her story is so good, and these elements are introduced in such a tolerable way, that I still recommend the books to the curious.

Well, there's my thoughts on things I can't stand! Do you have any you'd like to share? Anything on my list you want to rant about? Feel free!

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I try to link to pieces I get information or inspiration from, but sometimes I can't, and well, sometimes I just want to link to awesome stuff I've mentioned. As such...

Here is Linkara's comic review show, Atop the Fourth Wall. Consistently funny, and constantly informative to anyone who wants to learn more about comic books.
http://thatguywiththeglasses.com/videolinks/linkara/at4w

And here is Writing Excuses again, this time on killing characters. I tried not to repeat what they said here. It's not easy. Almost all the good points were taken. Seriously. Listen to this before you kill someone. Err, a character.
http://www.writingexcuses.com/2012/09/23/writing-excuses-7-39-death/

Random Insight Into My Writing Process

I write more slowly than you. Yes, you. If you're reading this, and you write, I write less words an hour than you do.

I'm still coming to terms with this. When one of you encourages me with the words "Well, just do an extra thousand words a day. Thinking small will help," well, I'm discouraged. I have to reply, in embarrassment, "Um, my goal is one thousand words. No, a week." And I turn that in late.

Unacceptable, right? Completely ludicrous! I'm just not writing enough. BiC, HoK, baby. Butt in Chair, Hands on Keyboard.*

Nope. I write plenty.

I start my session by revising the section before it. And by revise, I mean rewrite, word for word, and change any I don't like. It's a lot of work, and slows me down, but it lets me keep the energy of the scene while adding the poetry, the beauty.

I also do three drafts of a scene before I'm ready to completely move on. The first is exploratory, in which I have only the general idea of where it needs to go. The second is to make my fumbling seem less blind than it was, fixing consistency, fixing tone, fixing flow. The last is the polish, fixing things on a word-to-sentence level. The end product is something I'm willing to share, if not something I'm willing to submit.

This means that my first actual "Draft" is actually draft three. I write extremely slow, but I need to do less "Drafts" than most people.

My first draft is cleaner than yours. Yes, yours. If you're reading this, and you write, my first draft is probably prettier than yours.

I'm coming to terms with being slower.


*BiC, HoK borrowed from Writing excuses, Howard Tayler in particular.

Why Fantasy Needs Tarantino

Woah, hey, let’s put down the torches and pitchforks, people. Just let me explain what I mean before you burn me alive.

I don’t mean that we need any more “melon famers” spouted from our characters’ lips, and I don’t mean that every fight should involve a decapitation (though quite a few already do). I’m only talking about the skill with which Quentin Tarantino writes dialogue would be a great skill for burgeoning Fantasy authors to learn.

I’m going to use the movie Pulp Fiction to explain what I mean. In doing so, I’m going to spoil some plot points from the movie. If you haven’t seen Pulp Fiction, I’d suggest you minimize this and go watch it online. I’m sure it’s streaming free somewhere. And I know it’s on Netflix.

Pulp Fiction is a movie Tarantino wrote and directed in the 90’s. It’s the movie he’s most famous for, even more so than Kill Bill and Reservoir Dogs. It’s so iconic that you probably can’t go a month without someone you know making a little allusion to it. But I probably don’t need to tell you that. You likely already know exactly what the movie is. If you’ve watched 10 movies in the last 20 years, this was probably one of them.

The clips I’m going to use are from one of the more famous scenes in the movie (and thus one of the most famous scenes of all time). It’s also what I consider to be one of the greatest scenes in cinema history. These scenes are our introduction to characters Vincent Vega (John Travolta) and Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson).

If you’re familiar with Tarantino, I don’t need to warn you that these clips contain a lot of language and some violence. But there’s your warning anyway. I also apologize for whatever pops up in the related links, but I can’t pick and choose those.

Again, I’ll be using full spoilers in explaining why it’s so good, so if you haven’t seen it yet, WATCH IT. It’s not considered one of the greatest movies of all time for no reason.

Wow. See what I mean? Oh, maybe not, since I haven’t explained myself.

In the first scene alone, Tarantino establishes many things about the characters. He establishes both that Vincent has a history (since he just got back from being overseas, during which time he visited multiple countries, ate at restaurants, and so on) and that he and Jules have a prior partnership (since they chat so easily together, like good friends do). They both express interests outside the plot, some of which never enter into the story.

The second scene starts to introduce plot elements. It alludes to both Marcellus Wallace and his Wife, Mia, who will both become central to the plot later on. But that doesn’t mean it lightens up on characterization. On the contrary; it establishes that Vincent is cynical, practical, and pragmatic, while Jules is somewhat more optimistic, more of a dreamer.

In fact, these first moments establish their character arcs, and their paths throughout the movie. Jules has an eye toward the future, and it is this that will get him out of the life and onto greater things. Meanwhile, Vincent is stuck in the rut he’s in, is relatively happy there, and will die as a consequence.

The third scene pays off what’s been set up. We see Jules and Vincent do their job, and do it well. It shows the other side of them, the side you never, ever want to see.

These clips establish that Vega and Jules are relaxed and in their element. The violence that is about to happen is commonplace for them. So they can banter, talk about the future, and then go into the room and kill everyone there. Afterward, they revert to their easygoing camaraderie, like nothing happened. These are killers, lifelong criminals, who never regret hurting other people. But you like them anyway.

So, to summarize what I’ve just spent the last while jabbering about, these scenes establish character, setting, and plot, give foreshadowing, and take us from opening to the action without having us bored for a single second. More than anything, though, it just plain feels natural. All of it. Every stinking line.

How does this fit into Fantasy, you might ask? Haven’t I just been praising the great and talented Tarantino this whole post?

Think about the most common complaints in Fantasy, particularly in novels. The story starts too slow, the characters feel like they’re born on page 1, and the dialogue is filled with exposition. The foreshadowing is forced, and there’s an inherent black and white morality that makes it hard for you to like a main character who does something bad.

Studying Tarantino, the way that he builds his dialogue, could treat, if not cure, these illnesses in Fantasy novels.

And for those of you thinking, “But, but, Whedon!” Yes. Joss has done some of the best work in the field. Us geeks owe him a lot. But he’s just the beginning.

Not only do we all need to learn at least some of this as Whedon has, but we need to learn to take this skill into novels. We need to learn to develop our dialogue so that it works for us just as hard as our prose does. We need to make dialogue just another tool in our toolbox. We need to be almost as comfortable with dialogue as screenwriters are. And for that, we have to hold ourselves to the standards of screenwriters.

Or in short, we need Tarantino.