Category: Writing (page 31 of 81)

Art on the Internet

Courtesy Ashley Cope

There was a time, in my ignorant youth, when I’d say something is not art. Mostly this was related to modern art, be it the emotional spatters of Jackson Pollack or the austere compositions of Piet Mondrian. These days I know better: it’s possible to make art out of anything. There are stories to tell all over the place, and even in the 21st century, people are still finding new ways to do it.

The proliferation of the Internet has allowed more artists to express themselves and even encounter success in their lifetimes. These days, few artists toil in complete obscurity only to die before any of their works become truly recognized. With a little talent and patience, enough Twitter followers, and a lucky break or two, today’s artist can launch a career with much more ease relative to those earlier days. And the art in question has the freedom to defy old categories and conventions, writing rules of its own.

For years, webcomics seemed to be more like the Internet’s answer to sitcoms than anything else. Even now I would argue that sub-par comics like Ctrl-Alt-Del are the Internet equivalent of The Big Bang Theory. But webcoimcs can and do break away from the joke-of-the-day format. Some replace scathing caricature with breathtaking art, and others look to mix media in ways that just wouldn’t work on the printed page. Last night I was introduced to an example of the former, in the form of Unsounded, the tale of a brash thieving brat and her favorite attack zombie.

It’s more complex than that, of course. Ashley Cope manages to maintain a pretty regular schedule, and her tale not only has a clear narrative drive and truly interesting and complicated characters that grow and change, but she’s involved in extensive world-building and giving us a unique and fascinating look at magic, making it more practical and well-defined than some other works. A great deal of time and research has gone into her world, and atmosphere and history seep from many of this story’s pores. It’s well worth your time to check out.

As for mixed media art works, normally this would mean something is using both paint and sculpture, but on the Internet, you can mix static art, animation, sound, music, and user interaction to create a truly unique experience. I am, of course, talking about Homestuck. As much as Andrew Hussie’s work has inspired a veritable legion of irritating and demanding fanatics, the work itself is bold and experimental. It can be difficult to maintain a narrative through-line for as long as this story has, and while opinions differ on the many and varied characters that weave into and out of the story, the fact that the story is still going somewhere and has something to say before the end makes the long hiatus periods and insufferable antics of misguided fans worthwhile, at least in my opinion.

That’s just two examples of narrative art blossoming on the Internet. I only have so much time, but I would also recommend Lackadaisy, Gunnerkrigg Court, Cucumber Quest, and The Adventures of Dr. McNinja.

Writer Report: Ideas Unsolicited

Courtesy http://punology.tumblr.com/

So Cold Streets is clipping along. I’m still waffling a bit on how to set up Godslayer, be it Lord of the Rings style multiple books or a large novel divided for the sake of narrative, like in Tigana. I have my eyes peeled for opportunities to write for contests or anthologies, and of course I’m quite curious as to what today’s Flash Fiction challenge will be. But apparently, my brain is unsatisfied with these writing opportunities.

I was in Barnes & Noble the other night, after taking the missus to Cracker Barrel for dinner. We were wandering around the stacks, after finding a couple novels of interest (Throne of the Crescent Moon and The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms) and a few other items. It was she who pointed out the shelves dominated by what was labeled “Teen Paranormal Romance”, and we both noted how many of them looked like shameless, tawdry Twilight knock-offs.

“Damn,” said she, “you gotta get yourself some of that action.”

And immediately, my brain began giving me ideas.

What if the girl’s the vampire? Would that be too sexualized? Not if you write it right, obviously. But vampires are everywhere! It’s got to be something else. Can’t be zombies, either. Warm Bodies has that covered. Hey, what about mummies? Nah, doing that already. Werewolves! Tied into vampires now, thanks a fucking bunch Ms. Meyer… What about ghosts? Witches? Ancient pirate curses? Love-beams from space? Talking cats?

I have to admit, I’m rather proud of myself that I didn’t either take an awl to my temple or drink myself into oblivion just to shut the damn thing up. But as much as some might scoff at the fad of teen paranormal romance, there’s nothing that says that it’s any less a viable genre than any other speculative fiction. And if much of the output of the community there is dross and drivel, the opportunity exists to write something that isn’t either of those things, that basically shows the others how it’s done. Being the arrogant and narcissistic sod I am, this appeals to me.

I want to work more on Cold Streets and get Godslayer nailed down outline-wise first before I add that to my plate, though. I know I should ABW, but I can only keep so many balls in the air at the same time. No matter what my brain might say.

Objective Criticism

The Critic

I don’t consider myself a critic. I don’t have the experience, the background, or the clout to saddle myself with that label. I’ve taken a stab at the life before, and as fun as it can be to put my thoughts together and then spew them out into a microphone, more often than not it got in the way of what I truly should have been doing. Part of that could have been time management issues, ones with which I continue to struggle, but I do have some inkling of what goes into the work of a successful critic.

Simply put, a critic is someone who’s paid for their opinion. I’ve discussed the nitty gritty of criticism several times, and I’ve taken in all sorts of critical analysis. I’ve read over the opinions of those who’ve carved out an entire career from criticism, and I’ve listened to the diatribes of those who have picked up a rather broad audience through one means or another. The most in-depth and compelling analyses I’ve seen come from those who remain objective throughout their writing, or at least encapsulate their more personal feelings and keep them from being a huge influence on the overall critique. What moves one person to tears, another might find laughable or contrived, yet if a story element is solid or a character’s performance earnest and realistic, it can be agreed upon by both people that said element was objectively good.

Objectivity, however, can be seen as cold or too intellectual. In recent years, critics who allow more subjective verbiage to move through their writings have become far more popular than mostly objective ones. The angrier they get, the more sarcastic and cutting their jibes, the more histrionic their behavior, the more hits they get and the more they get paid. While I do understand the logic behind this shift, and can appreciate how noble an effort it can be to bridge the gap between critic and entertainer, from time to time I catch a glimpse of something happening to some of these popular figures, and it worries me.

The problem is that if the critic in question allows their histrionics or eccentric behavior to color their objectivity as a critic, their merit as a critic becomes questionable. Having a knee-jerk reaction to an announcement from the industry is one thing; allowing that reaction to color one’s opinion of an entire entertainment enterprise from conception to execution over a production period of years is quite another. If you do this, I can’t take your opinion seriously. You may continue to get entertainment value out of this sort of material, sure, but how much can you trust the opinion of someone on a game or movie if you know for a fact they dislike the game’s developer, or have a particular hatred for the film’s director? Some content creators have a certain track record, sure, but going into an entertainment experienced with a pre-conceived notion when your job is to be objective about said entertainment, in my opinion, ruins the merit of the criticism that will emerge.

Now, I know it’s impossible to completely divorce emotional responses from objective observations. Hence my use of the word ‘encapsulation’ earlier. This is what I would advise others looking to review or criticize to do: isolate your emotional responses, and let them supplement, rather than inform, your opinions on the work. Judge the work by its merits from an objective standpoint: the construction of the narrative, the execution of timing, the dimensionality of the characters, and so on. Then, add your personal touches where they fit. This will allow the actual criticism to shine through the trappings. Simply put, don’t let the fact that others might read your work overwhelm the reason you’re writing the work in the first place. Stick to the facts and what you can prove and stand by, rather than hanging all of your opinions on your own perceived popularity. Avoid the cult of personality, or worse, believing you have one. If you go for the obvious jokes and let your reactions prejudice your observations, you may get some hits for comedic value, but your overall work and reputation are likely to suffer. This can be corrected, in time, but first you have to admit that the problem exists at all, and not everybody’s going to do that.

Just a piece of advice from a fellow amateur.

Writer Report: Blog State

Bard by BlueInkAlchemist, on Flickr

While working on Cold Streets does take up most of my writing time, I do take notice of trends here on the blog. And it seems to me that my hits have diminished somewhat over the past week. I’m not sure why this is, but I’m going to keep at it.

I have plenty of material, after all. Tomorrow I finally will make it to a Gatecrash event, and on Sunday is a double-header of films I’m interested in both watching and reviewing. I’m also going to formulate a review of PlanetSide 2, which is quickly becoming a favorite after-writing way to unwind, and finish reading a book or two. But the important thing when it comes to the blog, if you ask me, is that I keep writing it.

Not necessarily because I want the attention (though I kind of do, it may help sell books and like all writers I’m a bit of a narcissist), but because writing every day doesn’t just mean the novels. It means stuff like this, too. If I made more time for it, it could also mean articles or non-fiction or more gaming stuff than I already write. So far my attempts to put game rules down on paper has been somewhat helter-skelter, and I really need to find a way to playtest said rules once I hammer out the basics. But more on that as it develops.

For now, just know that Blue Ink Alchemy isn’t going anywhere, and if you’re still reading after all this time or you’re just stumbling upon me out of the blue, you have my heartfelt thanks.

The Special Cases

Courtesy BBC

In my experience, no character is or should be completely without flaws, issues, or fault. The characters we create emulate the people in our lives, and since those people are imperfect, so to should our characters be. The more flawed or abnormal the character, the more compelling the story, right? Well… sort of. Within limits.

Your characters should be more than the sum of their parts. Incidental side characters may be an amusing bundle of neuroses, tics, and habits, but you can’t build an entire narrative around someone like that. There needs to be more there than a list of long condition names from the DSM IV. If a character does operate with or suffer from a mental disorder of some kind, and it’s simply a part of the character rather than their entire being, you need to consider how that disorder is portrayed.

Take Sherlock Holmes, for example. From the beginning, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s consulting detective has been single-minded, selfish, insufferably arrogant, difficult to work with, and at times nearly impossible to access on an emotional level. His modern BBC incarnation self-identifies as “a high-functioning sociopath.” Yet this is not the only aspect of his character. There are people he cares about and will go to great lengths to protect, and as intolerable as his behavior can be, he really does believe he is helping people more often than not. His disorder is not portrayed with the sole purpose of being laughed at, nor is he held up as anything towards which we should aspire.

John Green often challenges us to “imagine the other complexly.” We need to see beyond what could be considered stereotypical behavior and bring across the hidden depths of a character. Sherlock Holmes or Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory or Miriam Black would be what doctors would consider ‘special cases’, people so wrapped up in their complex issues that it can be hard to get to the person that lays underneath. And there is a person in there, beyond all of the neuroses; and like all people, they have feelings, aspirations, doubts, and vulnerabilities. Part of the reason I have trouble enjoying Big Bang is that I often feel that Sheldon is not being complexly imagined; rather I feel that his neuroses are simply being played for laughs, and that we are encouraged to laugh at him, rather than with him. There should be more to him than a haughty superiority complex and a bundle of nerd culture references, and things beyond those facets seem difficult to find. But, that’s just me.

What I’m driving at is this: imagine your characters complexly. No matter how special their case may be, they have wants and needs to which readers should be able to relate. The deeper your characters, the more they will enhance your narrative, and the better your story will be.

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