We Blog - We Live!

Blogging, yo. I still do it.

I'm not going to waste pixels on "blah blah blah, here's why I've been gone for oh so many years." I'm going to get right back into it. Screw the haters.

What I'm working on right now is an RPG setting that I plan to explore with my wife, the Abigail. The intent is to capture some of what made the Lord of the Rings special to me, but without all the stuff that either I have grown tired of, or that stopped the Abigail from every getting into that setting herself. Here is what I have got so far.

Rather than make the main conflict of the setting quite as Manichean as the Lord of the Rings, I want to do something with a little more subtlety. The Abigail can get behind purely antagonistic villains, but she needs to have an idea of their motivations, and those motivations need to make sense. Sauron always came off as too much of a dick.

So, my idea is to steal from The Whispering Vault, a little-known RPG from the mid-90s in which the main characters portray semi-spiritual beings empowered to hunt down refugees from the spiritual world who have invaded the physical world, seduced by its pleasures. This setting will have the same fundamental dichotomy: there is a spiritual world and a physical world, two sides of the same coin, and all the world's problems come from physical beings wanting to be spirits and spiritual beings wanting to be physical.

There is, specifically, a Dark Lord a la Sauron or Morgoth, but he's much more of a pitiful figure in my setting. He was the first spirit to force his way into the material world, and he has suffered for it. Now he longs for release from the various permanent wounds that have been inflicted upon his stolen flesh, swollen with power and sorcery as it is, but he's too afraid of oblivion to simply accept death. Like all spirits who have taken on flesh, he cannot escape at will - and even if he could simply shuck off his body, he knows that his spiritual cohort, the world's other spirits, are waiting for him. Perhaps in reality, they would forgive him and tend to his wounds and heal his soul... but he is too far sunken into misery and bitterness to accept that possibility.

So, the world sucks because this spirit wanted to know what it was like to eat and drink and screw. He tore a huge gaping hole in the veil between spirit and matter when he stole a body - there's a story to that, but I haven't thought of it yet - and lesser spirits have been taking advantage of this hole for millennia. The malignant ones, jealous of mankind's status as the only beings to naturally be both matter and spirit, have flocked to his banner (even though he is now too consumed with ennui and self-hatred to do much directing), while others have come through to try to repair the damage from the physical side, with mixed results. Some have remained true to their mission, while others have gotten too enamored of the flesh - or power, or whatever - and botched it up in various ways.

Hm.. I'm kind of stealing from Tribe 8, too... interesting.

At some point in history - probably at the beginning of some golden age - a spirit was sent through the gap with the goal of improving the situation by empowering humans, rather than possessing one and using him as a sock puppet to boss the other humans around. This human started lineage of humans who were touched by spirit, through their ancestry, but still fully humans (this would be my take on the Numenoreans).

Among other things - including starting said golden age - these blessed humans taught some humans how to temporarily separate their souls from their bodies, making themselves capable of magic. They taught some spirits how to merge with human hosts, rather than simply stealing their bodies. They taught other spirits how to merge with non-human material hosts, like animals or objects, in order to create "sinless" vessels whose efforts to fix things would not be tainted by the inherent problems of stealing a human's body in order to interact with the world. These gifts were intended to put humans and spirits on more equal footing, and for the most part, they worked.

But... inbreeding, decadence, and plain old boredom soured the plan. The noble lineage fell from power after a well-deserved revolt... which opened the field for the old enemy to begin planning, again, to dominate the world.

Why does he want to dominate the world?

Like I said... he's not even sure anymore, but he has generals and captains and industries of dominance who are sure that it's a good idea, and they don't really need his permission anymore. So, he's just going with the flow.

Arrayed against him are ordinary humans, humans who have learned a small measure of magic power, the tattered remains of the spirit-touched noble lineage that once stood astride the world - and they have the dubious assistance of various semi-spirit immortals, many of them tainted by the sin of having stolen the material bodies they are still wearing to this day.

And... that's all I got for now.

I'll be sure to check in soon with some more thoughts, especially as I begin to develop the system.

Is this a rebirth for the Burning Zeppelin Experience? I like to think so, but only time will tell.

Blog Free Drabble

After a lot of deliberation, I've decided to stop writing drabbles on a daily basis for this blog.

There are three main reasons for this decision.

Firstly, drabbles bore the shit out of me. After writing quite a few - not as many as Nathan, but plenty - I can now say with confidence that I don't see the merit in them, at least for me. Drabbles have a very distinct meter that they all share, and it's getting repetitive. I don't even enjoy reading or listening to drabbles anymore.

Secondly, I am no longer convinced that drabbles have much to teach me. I'm already reasonably good at what I call "evocation" - implying the existence of a larger world or story in several very small brush strokes. I certainly know all the tricks of shaving off a word or two - I think every writer does, after a point. Drabbles can sell, though they don't sell for much, and they can be a fun way to get the dead leaves and squirrel skeletons out of the writing gutters, and I'm glad that I spent some time exploring the medium and expanding my repertoire. However, I don't think I can learn much more from them.

Finally... let me elucidate this point with a story. Recently, the ever-prescient Abigail Hilton wrote, in a comment to one of my posts about writing drabbles:

I kinda wish you'd write a novel instead of drabbles.

My response was "you and me both, sister."

That got me thinking. I haven't had a lot of time to work on my novel, or my other novel, or the short story I'm writing, or the other short story I'm writing, or any of the five short stories that I've gotten feedback on and need edits and rewrites. Why? Because I spend all of my (highly limited) writing time on these God-damned boring-ass drabbles!

So, I have come to a crossroads. Will I continue to write in a form that bores me, or will I break my oath and continue to search for a way to blog and write that inspires me?

Screw drabbles, man. I'm moving on.

I'm going to keep up the blogging momentum that I've developed here, so watch this space for more game material, reviews, links, and, yes, drabbles. I'm also going to keep up the writing momentum that this project has produced, though you will no longer see the results posted here every single (God-damned) day.

That's all for now. The future is bright and full of new and better ways to make stories happen. Till next time.

Willpower / Won't Power

Today's story will be replaced by a lengthy rumination, of the kind that originally won me so many followers. Tune in tomorrow for more drabbley goodness. Or maybe the day after.

The Abigail will be mad at me for writing this, but I'm a fat guy.

I'm not blubber-dripping-off-the-bones fat - I carry the weight well, I think - but I've spent my entire adult life, so far, between 60 and 70 pounds overweight. That's enough to fit the medical definition of obesity, though I'm not what you think of when you think of obese. As I wrote, I've got a big frame and I carry the weight well, and most people don't realize that the medical definition of obesity starts at a much lighter weight than the conventional definition. That said, I am at the point where health problems like heart disease, diabetes, cancer, and potentially even dementia await me in the future if I don't make a change in my life style.

Or maybe not. That's how health problems roll.

Anyway, I've tried a lot of methods to lose the weight. I tried "feel crappy all the time and just don't think about it." That didn't work at all. I tried "just go to the gym already." That got me feeling a lot better, but didn't do much to help me get rid of the fat (apparently increasing your activity can only do so much if you're still eating poorly). I tried WeightWatchers. That worked for a while, but then they switched to a new method, and I got older, and it stopped working. Then I tried "give up in despair." Predictably, it didn't help.

Now I'm trying the South Beach diet. I'm also going to the gym regularly, where I see a personal trainer - and it's doing great things in all the ways that going to the gym are supposed to - but what I really want to talk about is the diet.

I get really weird reactions whenever I mention my diet. Nine tenths of the people I speak to fall into one of three camps:

1. "Oh, I could never do that - I don't have the willpower!" One guy even quipped "I couldn't ever go on a diet; the best I've ever done is two days without having a beer."
2. "How's that work?" and other expressions of curiosity.
3. "You don't need to diet, just go to the gym more!"

It's the first and second positions that I find most interesting. The third... it's well-intentioned, but just wrong.

Anyway, the thing I've learned is that dieting isn't really not that hard, once you're committed.

• Step One: Decide that you're going to do something.
• Step Two: Figure out what you need to be successful and what obstacles could stand in your way.
• Step Three: Gather all tools, eliminate all obstacles.
• Step Four: Profit.

Having a wife as awesome as the Abigail helps. You can't have mine.

It seems to me that this process applies to everything there is to do in life. I've seen it applied to (and done it myself, in some cases): job searches, job applications, surviving cancer, and becoming a serious writer.

That's not to say that I don't have sympathy for the difficulty in making a lifestyle change. The hard part rests in the sentence before "Step One." First, you have to be committed. You have to want it badly enough. Look at my own history. When I was trying all those methods that didn't work - "don't think about it and feel crappy all the time" and "give up in despair" - I didn't want it bad enough. Oh, I wanted badly, but what I wanted wasn't to lose the weight. I wanted to stop feeling shitty and helpless, I wanted the pain to go away, more than I wanted to solve the actual problem,

And then, there came the point in my life that this changed, and the problem was the problem, not how I felt about it. And that was when I said "let's get a gym membership" or "let's try WeightWatchers" or "someone mentioned the South Beach diet - let's give it a shot!" Becoming committed is the problem, staying committed is the challenge.

But willpower? This thing that everyone says they lack? Willpower is an illusion.

A lot of people seem to define willpower as the ability to continue doing something you don't want to do. But really, aren't we always doing what we want to do? What we chose to do? Even under duress, your choices are your own. Maybe it isn't fair, maybe there are extenuating circumstances that make a terrible choice excusable, but the choice is still yours. If willpower exists, it's more likely the ability to do things you do want to do - to follow through on your choices - despite hardship.

And does dieting really include hardships?

Come on. Watching my wife eat a sandwich is not a hardship. Refraining from stopping at the local steam bun joint for a Chicken Combo Bun (70¢) is not an obstacle. Not if you're really committed. Now, discovering that we're unexpectedly out of vegetables, or that the only protein in the house is deliciously fatty bacon. Those are obstacles. Those are hardships. And to prevent them, you plan ahead of time - something that the Abigail fortunately excels at, because I suck at it.

As I implied above, all of this applies to writing, too. You don't need willpower, unless you're trying to write while jackhammers work outside, or while experiencing explosive diarrhea, or shortly after having a child (I've done two out of three of those...). Whether you're trying to lose weight or gain words, you need commitment, and you need a plan.

Me? I need more peanut butter and celery. Catch you later.

Balls

This? This is balls.

Seriously, it's been almost twenty days since I posted, and almost a year since the last time I wrote anything worth a damn. This is balls. Solid. Goat. Balls. Am I a writer or a wannabe, here?

Hint: the answer is that I'm a writer. I refuse to "wanna" anything.

Anyway, it's time to jump start this shit. Winter is over; this is spring. I have a personal trainer, a professional organizer, and two kinds of therapist. It's time to get things started, kick ass, and take names.

Starting tomorrow, this blog is a thing-a-day blog a la my friend Nathan's Mirrorshards. For the next year, or longer, I'm going to write something - a drabble at the least - every single day and post it. It may not be great, but it will be here. And you will read it.

And it will not be balls.

That is all, ladies and gentlemen. Watch this space for a 100 word burst of creativity, every single day. No balls about it.

Death Spiral

"Death Spiral" is not the name of a goth metal band, but it should be.

Actually, I was introduced to the term "Death Spiral" by RPGs. In an RPG context, a Death Spiral is a rule that causes a character (or other entity) to become less effective as it approaches death. For characters, this has the effect of heightening tension and increasing drama. As the character becomes increasingly injured, he or she must struggle on despite the pain and handicap of wounds. Death Spirals - although for this to work they usually have to be accompanied by a mechanic for ignoring them at some cost - can often produce some awesome "from hell's heart I stab at thee" moments.

Of course, there are problems with Death Spirals. For one thing, the "circle round and beat the crap out of an increasingly crippled opponent" scene isn't much cooler than it sounds. A few games have done interesting things with inverted or otherwise altered Death Spirals that make opponents different or just plain nastier as they get more hurt, which is counter-intuitive, but usually a lot more fun, in that it produces rising action over the course of a battle, rather than falling action.

In the last few minutes, I've also learned that Death Spiral can also refer to some economics conditions, too.

But I digress. I'm here to talk about the Death Spiral in terms of sleep.

The Stress-Work-Sleep Death Spiral goes like this:

First, I am stressed. This is a general condition of my life. Then, I have work to do (also a general condition of my life). Because I am stressed, I am often doing the work at odd hours of the night. As it gets later, I get more tired, which reduces my efficiency and increases my stress. Which reduces my efficiency. Which causes it to become later. Which increases my weariness. Which reduces my efficiency.

And so on.

This is probably the worst thing about reality. Time, man, it totally blows. I would totally arrange things differently if it were up to me.

I think that recognizing the Stress-Work-Sleep Death Spiral (SWS Death Spiral, or SWSDS, for short) has helped me to avoid it, or at least mitigate it. The problem with totally preventing the SWS Death Spiral is that it acts upon the part of my brain that, well, acts. I may see it coming, but that doesn't mean I can do anything about it because it's the parts of me that manages time, makes decision, and works creatively that are slowed down, skewed sideways, and otherwise fucked up. However, there is something powerful about sitting in front of my computer at 12:45 AM and saying "damn, I know what this is - this is the Death Spiral" that helps. It opens the door to radical solutions, like "fuck it - I'm going to go to bed and set the alarm for 5:30 so I have time to do this before school" (a personal favorite). On a smaller scale, it sometimes helps spur me on to make more intelligent decisions about how to manage my time and reach the inevitable conclusion of the SWS Death Spiral - finishing my work and going, the fuck, to sleep.

Burning Myths, Flying Knives

Check it out: Escape Pod's blog has just published a post exploding the myth of the deadly flying knife.

I'll admit it - I don't know enough about physics to judge this particular post on the merits of its accuracy. However, I do know enough about the modern fantastic cannon to recall Vlad Taltos's entertaining description of thrown knives as a diversionary tactic; they flinch at the flying bit of pointy steel and miss the larger and more dangerous piece of not-so-flying steel headed for their guts. Or, more frequently, the fact that Vlad is headed for the hills.

Now, I'm much more of a creator of fantasies than speculation, even when I write in a science fictional mode, so I'm quite likely to give my heroes an explicitly magical "get out of physics free" card (I'm looking at you Exalted). I'm about as likely to set up my setting with an alternate physics - Heroic Physics, let's call it - in which throwing knives, swinging off chandeliers, or, say, running on the tops of trees are all possible for anyone.

That said, I like to be specific about where and when I depart from reality. I'd rather sit down to write a story thinking "this story will be set in a setting with general background of Heroic Physics, in which this, that, and the other thing are possible, and characters possessed of certain abilities will depart further in these specific ways" than just make mistakes. In that way, articles like this one are very useful.

However, I also have no problems with departing from reality in this way, when it's done clearly, consistently, and carefully. This is a sentiment it doesn't seem like the author of this article shares with me - she calls throwing knives in general "silly" and "cliched." Different strokes and all that. I can bring my throwing knives along when we visit a world that features Heroic Physics and leave them at home when we visit a world with Conventional Physics. It's all good.

NoNoWriMo

I don't really want to dwell on it, but I didn't win NaNo this year. Rat and Starling made it to about 36k, and that's where I died.

Did I say died? I meant came down with the first (and therefore, by definition, worst) sinus infection of my entire pitiful life. I'm still blowing horrifying crap out of my nose once in a while. But I certainly wished I was dead, for a while there.

In the end, despite being very nearly out of commission for a week, I might have been able to finish NaNo. Unfortunately, for the last three days, there has been time to do any three of the following things: go to work, finish my grading - which I didn't get to while I was dying of General NIoD (Nose Infection of Doom) - sleep, and NaNo. Sleep has to happen - whenever I don't sleep the Abigail gets really weird and for some reason and we fight all the time - as does going to work and finishing my grading if I want to stay employed. Something had to give, and what gave was NaNo.

I still didn't get more than three hours of sleep last night. Fucking grading.

Anyway, as I wrote above, I don't want to dwell on the negatives. There's always next year, after all. For now, I will content myself with another year of effort and the fact that there are now thirty-six thousand more words in the world, written by me, that I may someday come back to and make less sucky.

And that, 50k or no 50k, is still an achievement.

Happy Accidents

I am happy to report that at the end of yesterday (Day 14) of National Novel Writing Month I had 23,945 words - a little more than six hundred words ahead of schedule. Over the course of Day 14, I came up from a significant deficit, writing a little more than four thousand words in a single day. As a result, the last thing I want to do is write - which is why I'm blogging - and the last thing I want to blog about is writing.

So, instead, I'll blog about minis.

But when I blog about minis, I'm really blogging about writing.

When I first got into wargames, I was disappointed to discover that most games use plastic minis instead of metal. There is something deeply satisfying about metal minis. They have a powerful 'clunk' when they hit the table. It's kind of like Go - in ancient Japan, Go boards were designed to produce a satisfying sound when pieces were placed, making the game a full audiovisual experience - but with more death.

Later, after I started playing Warmachine and Hordes and actually had a chance to work with metal, I was happy to discover that most games use plastic minis. Metal is a pain in the ass to work with. It's heavy, so glue isn't enough and you have to pin stuff in place. Pinning stuff in place means drilling holes, in metal, which is also, unfortunately, hard to drill in.

Because, you know, it's metal.

As a result, if you're inexperienced - like I am - the result is often a little hit-or-miss. You aren't quite sure what a model is going to look like until you're done. If a pin settles in oddly, or a piece doesn't quite fit right, you could end up with nearly any kind of pose, from the totally awesome to the... kind of strange. Sometimes you need to work with what you've got, adapting a weirdly assembled model so it will turn out as well as possible.

Plastic, by the way, is much easier to work with. Glue usually does the trick. On the rare occasion that you have to pin it or adjust the shape of a piece, plastic cuts and drills like a dream.

The trick is to be open to happy accidents. A happy accident, as my 6th grade teacher taught me, is when something in art turns out differently than you expected, but in a way you can still work with. You don't see a lot of happy accidents in writing, but in visual art - including, yes, making minis - you see them a lot more often. I've got a metal Ravagore (horrible flame-spitting monster) that will end up in a really awesome pose, all because I was willing to change my plans after a series of drastic failures.


Anyway, it seems to me that NaNo is a lot like a metal model - oddly shaped chunks of narrative falling out of your brain as fast as you can squeeze them out of your fingers (wow, I'm sorry for that metaphor already). Later, when you have time, you can go back over your creation with a more critical, discerning eye, fitting the pieces together into something beautiful.

So be open to happy accidents. Look out for the weird bits of beauty your brain spits out when you aren't looking.

Speaking of which, I'd probably better get back to writing. Tell then...

So Sick of Sad, Special Sorcerers

I'm pretty sure there's something wrong with me. No normal person should like alliteration this much.

In the world of things that I'm getting kind of sick of, I'm starting to develop a mad-on for, as the title says, sad, special, and oppressed magic users. They're a common - and, I will admit, sometimes incredibly well-written - trope. The most recent stand-out example is Sharon Shinn's Twelve Houses series, but the subgenre is full of a wealth of excellent and not-so excellent works.

Before I continue, let me explain exactly what I'm talking about.

A lot of modern fantasy takes an approach to magic that mirrors the X-Men. Magic is (usually) an inborn trait, something that either can't  be repressed forever or can't be repressed without serious consequences for the mage. Mages are not a ruling class - rather, they are a hated minority. Their magical powers are only enough to help them survive, sometimes, with effort and great sacrifice.

I have a problem with this scenario. If you have a world where people periodically arise with special powers, I can't think of any reason that they would not ascend to roles of leadership. I mean, a lot of people hate fat-cat bankers born with silver spoons in their mouth, but these folks have been unseated in precious few parts of the world. Power (and talent, skill, and luck) may attract envy and animosity, but it also tends to attract more power. The best stories (The Twelve Houses again, is a good example of this) provide a good explanation: magic has limitations that its enemies know how to exploit, magicians have nemeses with their own, less objectionable power, ancient magician-kings were overthrown (which explains why they are so hated and no one will work for them), or whatever. A lot of the rank-and-file of this trope, however, never bothers with a justification.

Beyond that problem, though, I'm getting a little sick of it.

Perhaps it's over-exposure. This trope seems to have become very popular in fantasy since I was first exposed to it. Perhaps, though, it's something else. I wonder if I haven't grown out of it. As an adolescent, I was very caught up in being special. I worried that I wasn't special enough. I wanted to be assured of my uniqueness and value. I felt that the people who didn't recognize how wonderful I was were either right - which would have been terrible - or wrong, in which case they were oppressing me.

As an adult, I've realized that I don't really care about being special anymore. I'm content to be pretty average in a lot of ways. I have a purpose in life - several, in fact - and I'm happy to be used by them. I don't need to stand out in the eyes of any but the people who know me and appreciate what I bring to them and the world. Perhaps that's why the shine has worn off the story of the magic few.

Finally - and this is probably also part of my growing up - I think that there's something distressing elitist about the myth of the magic few. Let's look at this critically. Imagine that you actually lived in this world: there are a class of people, chosen at random, with magic powers. They can burn you alive with a gesture, invade your memories by looking at you hard, or bend your mind with a glance. There's nothing you can do to stop these people from taking what you own, coercing your obedience, engineering your humiliation, or ending your life. Remember that these people weren't chosen by a higher power with your best interests at heart. They aren't the best, the kindest, or the wisest. Some of them are great people and some of them are jerks. Their power is inherent, so there's nothing you can do to join them, ever.

You can't stop them, you can't compare to them, you can't join them, they don't deserve what they have, and they could be anyone.

Scary? Depressing? Both? Remind you too much of the real world?

Yeah, me too.

I feel that the story of the oppressed sorcerer is founded in the assumption that you are one of the special ones. But special has to equal rare, or it wouldn't be special anymore. Assume that you're a farmer caught in arcane crossfire, watching her home burn; assume that you're a merchant who just gave away goods worth a year of overhead thanks to a magician's charm; assume that you're a twelve year old girl who just caught a magician's eye - the equation changes. You start to think that maybe there needs to be some way to control these people. Maybe you even think that if the best solution you can think of is to put them in the ground, then maybe it's ok. Maybe it's the least of all available evils.

Now, all of this isn't to say that I don't ever want to read this kind of story again. What I'm looking for is a story that takes a more nuanced approach. I want the story to have a is well-built setting, of course, one that answers all the questions I raised above, but I also want it to provide multiple points of view on the problem of magic. Let's have the usual rag-tag band of heroic magicians and their hangers-on, but let's also have mage-hunters with legitimate grievances, people who have suffered at the hands of the "special few." Let's have a resolution that amounts to more than "the magic people should be free to do whatever they want, but don't worry - all the magic people who have been main characters are great."

When you find it, let me know.

The Subtle, Sinister Side of Sexism in Speculative Stories

Six S's sequentially! Seventy supplemental... uh... points!

First of all, have a fascinating article about sexual dimorphism in the world of WoW from Wired.

Also, check out this picture from the oft-hillarious, sometimes disturbing, and rarely safe for work Boobs Don't Work That Way:

Arguing about the portrayal of men and women in fantasy (especially on the internet) is something of a hobby of mine. In fact, I've gotten a little sick of discussing this, so I'm writing this post in part so whenever this comes up I can simply post a link and say "see this - this is what I think."

First of all, I will the first, second, third, and last to admit that I appreciate fantasy chicks. The Chainmail Bikini has a place of honor in my heart, alongside the Naked Powerful Evil Queen (the Abigail loves to mock me about this one), Swords of Unusual Size, and Extremely Flash Magic.

That said, you need to watch what you're doing. Fill your story (or video game, or movie, or RPG book, or whatever) with half-naked women and you are sending an extremely powerful message: this work is intended to excite and titillate the men in the audience. Women who like women may glean some enjoyment if they can get past the discomfort of seeing their own gender blatantly and unfairly sexualized. Women (and men) who like men need not apply.

This is not a message that I intend to send with anything I create. It's also not a message I like to see in anything I consume.

"But Mark," I hear you say, "you just said that you're a fan of chainmail bikinis and wicked sorceress-queens lounging nakedly on thrones of skulls!" I hear you say it through the Internet. It's a new app I just bought, and it's awesome.

Ahem.

The thing is, there's nothing wrong with sexualized fiction. Mighty thews and heaving bosoms have been with us for as long as there has been writing; check out an accurate translation of the Song of Solomon if you don't believe me. The trick is to consider what message you are sending with your work. Are you excluding someone? Are you only giving eye-candy to a segment of your audience? If the answer is yes, you need to deal with it.

This is where the chart I posted at the start of this post comes in. It may be intended as a bit of tongue-in-cheek commentary, but I think it's actually useful as a guide for balanced titillation. What you need to do is this:

1. Decide where on the X-Axis your story is going to fall. Is your work Realistic? Heroically Idealized? Sexualized? A combination of the two (for example: largely Heroically Idealized but with a few sexy bits that slip over into Sexualized or largely Realistic but with a Heroically Idealized climax scene).
2. Keep yourself in that category for both male and female characters. Period.

I mean it with step two. That's where the magic happens. Balance between the depiction of the sexes is what sends the message "this work is for everyone to enjoy!" For every man covered in grime and sweat I want to see a woman who hasn't had a bath since she set out from Caer Amithar a fortnight ago. For every heaving bosom I want to see a mighty thew. For every levitating breast I want to see a buttock of a tautness that defies the durability of human flesh. And no fair skimping on the narration - you must describe everything with an equal degree of loving, sexy, titillating detail. If you aren't up for appealing to everyone in your audience, aim for the left side of the diagram and leave the sexy stuff to the professionals.

And by the way, you should probably take some of those examples with a grain of salt. I'm not into guys, so I'm not sure what actually qualifies as the equivalent of a heaving bosom or levitating breast. Do some research with your female-favoring friends of the male and female persuasion.

There is one more objection I hear a lot, usually from people who make more of their money in one or another artistic industry. "Mark," I hear them say (through the app), "the thing is, people who like to look at guys are used to this sort of thing and they'll buy our art anyway; people who like to look at girls (specifically, male people who like to look at girls) won't."

To this I say: grow the hell up.

Artists - quit being lazy wimps. You want to change the world with your work? Take a stand. The days of fantastic fiction being the purview of men and men alone are long gone - and good riddance to them. Don't hide behind the need to make money. I guarantee you that you can find a way to make a statement you can actually be proud of and also make a buck, if you try.

And all the girl-looking-at-male-people out there - guys, we can do better. I guarantee you that photons bouncing off words describing buff guys (or even - and I know this can be hard to believe - pictures) won't do you any harm. They don't cause eczema, hair loss, or cancer. Everybody else has had to look at what you like for centuries, and they're all fine. You'll live.

Before I go, I want to hear from you. Who does a good job of balancing appeal for those who like boys and those who like girls? What are some works of fantastic fiction that pass the Zeppelin Test?

Why Not Self Publish?

In the comments to a recent post, a gentleman named Greg Christopher said:

"You are a fool for not self publishing. You would have money by now.
Sorry for the tough love, but you seem to be needlessly hurting yourself."

Now, we are not enemies of tough love here at the Zeppelin, and I'm not writing this post to shame or criticize anyone, but when I started to respond in the comments I ended up writing a post, so here it goes.

The thing is is that self-publishing a novel is basically a full-time job. Once you're done writing the novel, you need to do all the work of editing - and that includes finding people who are qualified to help you who are not yourself, since by the time you are done with your novel, you're going to need an outside perspective. Then you're going to need cover art and layout, which you probably don't know how to do yourself. Editors cost money, artists cost money, and layout experts cost money.

Then, you're going to need to settle down to some serious self-promotion. As a self-published author, you need to do everything yourself. If you want to get your book into a bookstore, you are going to need to go to that bookstore, get a meeting with that buyer, talk up your book, and hope she buys it. And if she doesn't, you just wasted time and gas money that you may or may not have to spare. Forget about getting your book into stores in another part of your state, let alone another part of the country.

On the other hand, with an agent and publisher backing you up, you've got somebody to do all that for you, and you don't pay for any of it, at least not directly. You pay in a cut of what your novel makes; if your novel doesn't sell, you don't pay.

On the third hand, e-publication is always a possibility. The self-promotion here is a bit less travel-intensive, since you can use the internet, but still takes a lot of time and energy. You need to email, post, pimp, and produce free content like a demon if you want to get anywhere. You need to do all the work of a publishing agency's marketing machine, all by your lonesome. Abigail Hilton, among others, has managed it, but I'm not sure how.

Now, that said, I'm mostly talking about short stories here, not novels. So, where is the benefit in traditionally publishing short stories?

Blogs (like this one) are good for building a base of fans. I suppose I could start releasing my stories for free here to build up a base for the eventual self-release of my novel. Again, though, we're talking a lot of work. I've been keeping this blog fairly regularly for about two years now, and I've got maybe thirty readers - probably more like twenty. The thing is, I don't need to reach you already - unless I lose you, I've got you. If I posted tomorrow with a sample chapter of my self-published e-reader friendly novel, I predict that most of you would read it.

There are other problems with self-publishing short stories on my blog. Let's say I just up and posted The Dead of Tetra Manna, a story I've been having a hard time finding a market for. For that post to net me new readers - which is what I'd need to do to use this blog as a platform to build my writing career - someone would need to read that story, like it, and then pass it along to a friend. That friend would then need to read the story and not only like it, but like it well enough to become a regular reader him or herself. This could happen - it probably has happened - but it isn't likely. There are too many intermediary steps between post and follower during which the signal can be lost. How many times have you heard, read, or heard of something interesting, thought to yourself "I should follow that dude's blog," and then failed to follow through? That's why after two years of fairly steady blogging, I'm still at only about thirty readers.

Compare this to The Dead of Tetra Manna finding a place in a traditional, online, or podcast magazine. Nearly every reader or listener is not already someone who follows my blog. Let's say Podcastle bought The Dead of Tetra Manna. Podcastle has at least several thousand listeners (possibly more), almost none of which already know who I am. If even one percent of them become followers of my blog, I'm golden.

I have data to back this up. When the Dunesteef Audio Fiction Magazine bought The Invisible Kingdom, my blog experienced the single largest boost since the Abigail started reading and my readership went from "zero" to "one." I started with about ten readers and ended with the thirty or so I have today, a 300% increase.

Add to this the fact that most magazines won't take a short story that has been posted for free, but you can always post something for free after it's been published, after a suitable delay, and you see why it's important to pursue external publication for short pieces. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that seeking external publication for short fiction is an important step in building the base for successful self-publishing.

Finally, podcasts.

Well done podcast magazines, braided anthologies, and novels attract a lot of attention very quickly. I could, in theory, begin a series of podcast stories or create a podcast version of Knights of the Land. I have frequently mention the excellent Guild of the Cowry Catchers, and I have listened to, enjoyed (and in some cases, posted about and reviewed, many others). I have great reverence for podcasters. I am not ready to be one.

In my other life (note that I didn't write "day job") I am a middle school science teacher. Teaching middle school isn't a job. It isn't even a career. Three jobs, two careers, and membership in a secret assassin clan just barely begins to scrape the surface of how much physical, mental, and emotional work this is. Physical, mental, and emotional giants like Chris Lester of Metamor City can manage teaching and podcasting at the same time - and even he's trailed off lately - but I know my limits. Perhaps there will be a day that I can teach all day, podcast all night, sleep while I drive, and write while I sleep. Until I figure out how to do that and not die (or, alternately, get better at teaching so it takes less of my time), though, podcasting is not for me.

So, where does all that leave me?

Hopefully, right where I am.

I know who I am and what I want. I am not a Mur Lafferty or an Abigail Hilton. I don't, at this point in my life, have that kind of drive or organization, and I don't want to be a full time writer. I have a more than full time career that I love. What I want is to keep slogging away, working on novels, writing short stories, and building my base. Some day, when I attract the attention of an agent and a publisher, I can pare off some of the time I already have for writing - weekends, vacations, the entire freakin' summer - for book tours and hardcore marketing. The rest of the time I can balance between the work I love and the work I also love.

I hope this post isn't too long or too vehement, but I spend a lot of time consuming I Should Be Writing, Dave Thompson's livejournal, and other writerly outlets. Being an loud opinionated person, I can't help but want to comment. And what is the Internet for if not conversation?

Well, porn. Conversation and porn.

Until next time, the Zeppelin lives and lets live, and you should, too.

The Direction of the Zeppelin

After the some of the discussion of blogs on the latest I Should be Writing podcast, I've been thinking about making a minor course correction for the Burning Zeppelin, and I wanted to give my reader(s) a chance to comment.

In her podcast, the inestimable Mur Lafferty comments that, in that they are a platform, blogs should be about the author as well as her work. In other words, I shouldn't just post about stories, ideas, my takes on writing, and so on, but also about my life, my day, and the thousands of small victories and challenges that make me (and my writing) who (and what) I (and it) am (are?).

On the other hand, the Burning Zeppelin Experience was founded to explore a certain kind of fiction in literary, visual, and experiential (that is, roleplaying) form. I don't want to stray too far from my roots here.

Full disclosure here: in my other existence, I have what I think is a pretty interesting life. I'm a teacher in an inner city school and my wife, the Abigail, is a counselor who specializes in trauma, especially bullied and traumatized kids. I have strong, and in some cases iconoclastic, opinions about widely varied issues, and I'm not afraid to speak my mind about them (or, get up at a ridiculous hour and campaign about them). If I open the Burning Zeppelin Experience up to posts about my real life, you aren't going to be deluged by "my sandwich was great today; how about yours?" posts.

I don't eat many sandwiches, anyway.

So, what do you think? Do you want to read about my other life as a teacher, husband, friend, and dude? Or shall we keep it strictly professional here on the Burning Zeppelin Experience? Your comments have the power to influence me this way or that, so don't be shy. Comment away!

A-NO-nymous

It's common wisdom - as I understand it - that what every writer needs is a good crit group, full of people who don't know you, don't care about you, and are perfectly willing to tear your work to shreds, sparing not a thought for your feelings. The internet is great for this sort of thing, as are groups that meet in coffee shops. Don't show your work to your friends and family, because they'll be too kind to you. Presumably, also, be wary of becoming friends with your anonymous crit group, lest they start to love you and also begin sparing your feelings.

Honestly, I call bullshit.

First of all, there are stories like the one mentioned in a recent episode of I Should Be Writing: crit groups turned mutual appreciation societies. I've heard of this happening again and again, both online and in real life. It seems to me that there is a powerful tendency in writer's groups to develop toxic social norms. Real criticism is unsafe and frowned upon; only bland positive feedback is permitted.

Secondly, there's my personal experience. My alpha reader is the Abigail, a former English major and avid consumer of short and long science fiction and fantasy (well, mostly fantasy). My alpha and a half reader (in that he lives across the Internet and usually doesn't get to my work until after the Abigail has had a crack at it) is Nathaniel Lee, of Mirrorshards. My beta readers are the aspiring writers of the Escape Artists' writer's forum (it's hidden on their regular forum - you need to message a moderator to join). Of the three, only the folks at EA even resemble an anonymous and disinterested group. Most importantly, I have had no difficulty getting cutting negative feedback from the Abigail and Nathan when it's appropriate.

I know that single exceptions don't actually disprove established rules, so I'm going to provide the mechanism by which my system works:

1. Because most people are basically nice, only someone who really cares about you will tell you when you suck. Getting someone to tell you when you suck is even harder when they know that you are going to get a turn telling them that they suck. This is how mutual appreciation societies form - everyone is afraid to be the one to give negative feedback because they don't want to be the first to receive negative feedback. Norms form (as they will) until negativity is outlawed.
2. Not all feedback is created equal. With all due respect to my beta readers, I usually get the best and most useful feedback from Nathan and the Abigail. They are both intelligent, tasteful, talented, and beautiful (well, the Abigail anyway) (Nathan - imagine me sticking my tongue out at you). I know them, I trust them, and they tend to have more useful and specific things to say.
3. I've found it especially true that people who get me get my work and people who don't, don't. When the point of a story is obscure or poorly communicated, people who understand me are more likely to understand what I'm going for and help me draw it out. People who don't understand me are more likely to completely miss the point and give me feedback that sends me in the wrong direction. I'll concede that an audience who can miss the point this way is important, because I need to know if my point is that hard to get... but when it comes to getting me back on track, it's the people who know me who can lead the way.
4. Finally, and relatedly, relationship is key. Readers who know me and know what I find interesting can make much more cutting and perceptive comments. The Abigail knows when I'm shying away from a decision I'm excited about but afraid my audience won't get. Nathan isn't afraid to point out when I'm being too nice to my characters. In my experience, this insight is priceless.

Now is the time on the Burning Zeppelin Experience when I undermine my own point with concessions to the very thing I'm railing against.

Firstly, I do believe that there is a time and a place for an anonymous crit group. It is incredibly useful to have a group of people, hooked in to some kind of feedback mechanism, who can let you know what an audience is going to make of your work. After all, not everyone is going to be as intelligent, tasteful, talented, and beautiful as the Abigail (and Nathan). Not everyone is going to know me as well, either.

Secondly, I also know that I have lucked the heck out. I'm married to a former English major, with whom I share a love of fantastic fiction and roleplaying games (in fact, I'd better wrap this post up so I can finish planning our next Exalted session...). I have a college buddy who is a talented writer, but in such a way that he is my complementary inverse (rather than being so different we have nothing to say to each other or so similar we share all the same foibles). Not everyone is going to be so fortunate.

That said...

I can't help but set myself up against the common wisdom. I think that alpha and beta readers who understand you, care about you, and relate to your work are absolutely indispensable, much more so than an anonymous or distant crit group.

Until next time, remember, that Zeppelin stands alone.

'Cause It's Cool

I realized belatedly that I might have overstated my point in my last post, so I wanted to make something clear. There's nothing wrong with including something in your story simply because it's cool. I am a full supporter of stories that include cool things.

What I'm against is writing words just because the words are cool.

What's the distinction?

Something that's in your story has a place. It is thought out, considered, and connected to other story elements. It exists to serve the story - sometimes, simply by being cool.

Words that just happen to occupy the same page as your story are not connected. They simply exist, for their own sake rather than for the story's sake. They are selfish, disruptive, and parasitical. They take up space without contributing anything, not matter how cool they are.

For all my pontificating, I don't pretend to always know the difference between the two. Cool but parasitical words can be very good at masquerading as cool stuff. I am still a wannabe, after all. Though, I am swift to point out, I firmly believe that even when I am an actuallyis I'll still need editors and good friends to help me figure it out.

War on BAUF

Hard to admit I fought the war on BAUF

My hands were tied and the phone was... BAUFed.

Ahem...

BAUF is an acronym of my own devising for a thing that I would like to see eradicated, or at the very least reduced: Business As Usual Fantasy. I'm sure you've heard me ranting about BAUF before, when it comes to fantasy species, and the prevalence of BAUF themes was my main criticism in a recent podcast novel review.

Now let us define our terms: what us BAUF?

In my opinion, the fantasy genre is plagued by a tendency to include fantasy elements for their own sake, rather than because they serve the story or contribute to the setting. It's the kind of logic that leads to elves somewhere in the world - it's a fantasy, after all - even if there are no elves or elvish works in the story itself. Worse, this is the kind of lack of thought that leads to the presence of elves even when the elves add nothing to the story.

For a relevant counter-example, check out science fiction. In science fiction, story elements are generally well-considered and weighed out, included because of what they add, not simply because it's science fiction. Space ships are usually only present in science fiction stories that need space ships - because the story takes place on an alien planet, or the social and economic effects of space travel help drive the plot, or whatever - and are absent from stories that don't. There are warlike cat-people-aliens in Larry Niven's Known Space - a seminal work of science fiction - but there aren't warlike cat-people-aliens in Carl Sagan's Contact. That's because Carl Sagan and Larry Niven both thought long and hard about what was needed to drive their stories and only included those elements that were needful.

Just to be clear, I've got nothing against orcs and dwarves, dragons and spellcasters, when they are necessary to the story. I've even gotten over my elf rage (mostly). I'm even writing a novel that includes elves as a major plot and setting piece. What I have a beef with is the practice of including these elements when they are totally extraneous. Business As Usual Fantasy. Fantasy elements that are included for no reason other than that they are expected.

So, I've explained what I mean by BAUF. But what, you ask, is the problem?

The problem with BAUF is that it's fat, pure and simple. Although I'm not always good at it - just ask everyone who critiqued The Dead of Tetra Manna in its earliest incarnations - I believe that slim and focused writing is a virtue in and of itself. Unnecessary and extraneous elements don't belong in a tightly written narrative. Readers shouldn't be distracted by stuff that doesn't need to be there. Everything you include takes attention away from everything else you include, so include as little as possible (without rendering your story completely sparse) and spend your narrative energy on what matters.

Let's keep it positive - I don't want to condemn specific works as BAUF here. Rather, let's take a little while to talk about a couple of works that are definitely not just Business As Usual.

• The Guild of the Cowry Catchers (and The Prophet of Panamindorah, which I have never spelled correctly the first attempt), both excellent podcast novels by Abigail Hilton. The world of Panamindorah (I got it right!) is completely free of BAUF, and quite compelling besides.
• N.K. Jemisin's The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is exactly what I'm talking about when I ask for tightly written fantasy that only includes what it needs and excludes what it doesn't. In addition to being a tightly-written novel, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms takes place in a truly unique setting that is lean, mean, and evocative.

I'd love to see more examples of BAUF-free fantasy in the comments.

Until next time, folks, remember: go not to the elves for council, for they will say both yes and "zeppelin!"

Frickin' elves.

Free (From) Agency

I've been listening to the Dunesteef Audio Fiction Magazine a lot lately. The podcast is distinguished in two ways: firstly, they do professional quality full-cast audio productions that are really fun to listen to, and secondly, they are still a relatively small and young non-professional market, which means that goons like me stand a snowball's chance of getting published there. Most of my other podcasts are single reader and professional or near-professional, which makes the Dunesteef a welcome change of pace.

As a sub-professional market, the Dunesteef also publishes a lot of stuff by relatively inexperienced writers, which has given me the opportunity to notice something interesting. Many writers - myself included - siaplt a fondness for what I call the "Agency Hook." While the Agency Hook is a venerable tradition and has spawned numerous popular books and television shows, there are problems with it, and reasons that inexperienced writers find it so attractive.

I can hear you asking me: dude, what the hell are you talking about?

The Agency Hook works like this: the main character(s) are operatives of some organization who sends them out to do its bidding. The characters might be cops, soldiers, FBI agents, part of a secret cult, or members of some shadowy and clandestine bureau. Almost invariably, there are problems of organizational politics, bureaucratic incompetence, and secret agendas. Famous examples of the Agency Hook include Mission Impossible, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., The Avengers, and many other spy shows and movies.

The advantages of the Agency Hook are manifold. The agency at issue can provide numerous premises; want your characters to go anywhere, do anything? The agency sent them! Need a complication? From agency politics and antagonistic superiors to simple disorganization and stupidity, the possibilities are nearly endless.

So, then, what's the problem?

In the hands of an inexperienced writer (or, for that matter, someone who just made a mistake), the Agency Hook can have the side effect of deprotagonizing the protagonists (which is never a good idea). Put bluntly, (in my opinion), when a main character is only doing what he does for someone else's reasons, what you have on your hands is a dead fish of a story. Characters are good when they take charge of their destinies and make both interesting decisions and interesting mistakes (or, alternately, dramatically fail to take charge of their destinies, which is itself an interesting mistake).

In my mind, the best way to make sure you're using the Agency Hook and not the Agency Crutch is to carefully examine your story. Is your character personally, deeply, passionately involved in what he does, or is he only doing it because it's orders? Does your character have a unique style that shines through the narrative, or is he simply falling into the role of Yet Another [Insert Organization Here] Agent (or - and this is harder to spot - Yet Another Archetypically Styled [Insert Organization Here] Agent. Spooky FBI Dude, anyone)?

I've kind of moved away from the Agency Hook these days - not because it's universally bad, but because it doesn't really interest me right now. I'm finding it more interesting to explore character who act wholly on their passions and experiences rather than being tangled in an organization that dictates their actions. That said, I still engage with the Agency Hook - anyone who's ever run or played a White Wolf game, especially the old World of Darkness, plays with the Agency Hook - so I'm definitely not condemning it. I'm just saying that it has its flaws, and you should remain cognizant of them.

That's all for now. Until next time, remember that orders are orders, and if you've got a problem with that you should take it up with the boss.

New Year's Cleaning

I'll probably reflect on the writing of 2010 at some point, but we here at the Burning Zeppelin Experience have never been bound by standards of punctuality, how have we? What I want to write about this year is writerly organization.

You see, I was recently lucky enough to buy myself a new computer (a MacBook, by the way, which means that we will see the return of the •, which is remarkably hard to type on a PC, you know). As I was (slowly, laboriously, via flash drive) migrating stuff from my old computer(s), I realized that my computer organization system sucks. My professional stuff is pretty well sequestered in an island of stability, but the rest of it my hard drive is a welter of miscategorized files, enormous folders filled with trash, and folders called simply "Sort."

In fact, in one place I even have a folder called "Desktop Stuff" inside a folder called "To Sort" and that one inside another folder called "Sort."

Considering my recent discovery that I am actually more of an outliner than I thought I was, I decided that it might be a good idea to bring some method to this madness. After all, if I'm going to be writing outline after outline, it might be prudent to have some place to put all these files.

After some thought (and a conversation with the Abigail), I came up with a system that goes something like this:

• Fiction
• Flash and Flitter
• Short
• Notes
• In Progress
• Completed
• Hiatus
• Novel
  • Notes
  • In Progress
  • Completed
  • Hiatus
• Well

There's also a somewhat better organized place for all my gaming stuff - including the games I'm trying to write - but that's neither here nor there. What does all this mean? Well, Flash and Flitter is for flashfiction, flitterfiction, and perhaps even the occasional microfic or drabble. You don't need much more categorization in there; if you can't finish a flash piece in one sit down or need to keep extensive notes, you're probably doing something wrong, as that's kind of the point. Short and Novel are, unsurprisingly, for short stories and novels. Within each of those folders I have a place to keep a story when it's just a collection of notes, when I'm actually working on it, when it's done, and when it's on hiatus. For organizational purposes, each story that gets beyond the "single word document of notes" stage will get a folder of its own for storing outlines, successive versions, dumpster files (more on those some other day) and notes.

The Well, on the other hand, is an idea I've alluded to before (there, though, I called it the threshing floor). Basically, this is the place where ideas go to die and be reborn. When a character study fully fails to produce something I'm going to use, when a cosmology turns out to be nothing more than so much high concept gibberish, or whatever, this is the folder I'll dump it in. Maybe once in a while I'll clean it out and get rid of the stuff that I deem totally useless, but it's not like my new machine has any lack of storage. After all, you never know when something is going to turn out to be useful later.

Well, I hope this was useful for you all. I'm going to bed.

And by the way, I've decided to name my new computer Bright Itempas, because after one gray computer, one black computer, and one navy blue computer, this dude's whiteness is intolerable. Also, you should be reading N. K. Jemisin's The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms. Why? Because it's good. I'll review it later.

Until next time, remember who you are, hold on to yourself, and see it through.

NaNoWriMo//oMirWoNaN

And you thought I was done with obscure titles...

In case you couldn't guess, the theme for today is reflecting on National Novel Writing Month. As I off-handedly predicted some time ago, I didn't win. The Fool's Errand came in at 18,307 words. Distant and no cigar. I mean, in theory, I could have pulled an all-nighter last night (and an all-dayer, followed by an until-midnighter) and maybe managed it, but it wouldn't have been any fun and it wouldn't have been fair to my kids, colleagues, or principal (the Abigail would probably have been ok with it). However, as always, I come away with some important lessons.

Most strikingly, I have realized that I can't write a novel that I don't believe in. Weird, huh? I wonder if there's anyone else in the world suffering from this bizarre disability.

Facetiousness aside, I have also realized, in light of the last three years of NaNo, that the best way to tell if I really believe in a novel is whether or not I have passed through five or six versions, dicked around with several kinds of notes and setting bibles, and switched beginnings and point of view schemes several times. In 2008, I didn't finish Ghostly Tam Lin, because I didn't really believe in it and it was a brand new project. In 2009, I finished What Sacred Games One: Heaven and Earth, which was the newest version of an idea I'd been kicking around for about five years and for which I had exhaustive mental notes and an abortive first draft. And now, in 2010, I didn't finish The Fool's Errand, another brand new project which I think is neat but - in retrospect - don't really believe in either (though, as the Abigail pointed out, I definitely had more faith in The Fool's Errand than I ever did in Ghostly Tam Lin). Stepping outside of NaNo, I was finally able to finish Knights of the Land under similar circumstances.

I hear you asking yourself: "So, what's the big deal? Mark is good at finishing stuff that he's dicked around with for years? But seriously, who isn't? I mean, finishing stuff is admirable, but how is that really useful?" Clearly I have magic powers, since I can read your thoughts in such detail.

What's useful about this realization is the secondary realization: I am much less of a discovery writer than I thought I was. Discovery writers make it up as they go along. That's how I write... the first time. The second time I attack a project, however, I'm building off the ruins of the first attempt. And the third time, I'm building off the ruins of the second. Periodically I break the structure down and build something only vaguely similar out of the same bricks, and then build on the new structure with subsequent iterations. And so on, until completion.

Essentially (and this is the Cliff's Notes version), I am using drafts as outlines. Which means that I'm more of an outliner than I thought I was. More importantly, this means that maybe if I try actually writing an outline with my ideas, rather than a series of abortive drafts, I could shave many drafts - and possibly many years - off my creative process.

Of course, I still need a way to figure out which ideas I am sufficiently passionate about to make them worth my while... but I'll tackle this one problem at a time.

So, I don't win a NaNo crown this year. Instead, I take home the good start to a novel that I might finish some day and some hard earned lessons. While victory would have been nice, I can't really ask for more.

Comic Depression

For the longest time - about as long as I can remember being aware of the art form - I have wanted to be a part of the team that writes a webcomic. The first reason is pure arrogance: I often want to do things right that I see done wrong. Actually, this can get really frustrating when I experience something that has maybe, the smallest seed of quality and I find myself obsessing over how I'd do it, and how I'd make it good. A lot of webcomics... well, they're clearly written by artists who think they can write, rather than writers who think they can draw (the latter, when I have to choose between the two, is the one that I prefer).

The second reason is that I love dialog, I love character development, and I love plots. While I have a good visual imagination and like deciding on the appearances of things, it isn't my favorite thing to do. Frankly, I get stressed out trying to figure out how often to reincorporate so-and-so's appearance, such-and-such's smell, the fact that what's-her-bucket has a pet weasel-hawk.

So basically, writing a webcomic means that I get to do just all the fun stuff and none of the less fun stuff? And also it's serialized, long-running, and full of potential? What's not to love? You'll notice that I don't want to get a job in the comics industry, and that' because I do like writing descriptions. I'd feel incomplete if all I did was plot character arcs and write dialog. But, as a project, as something to do (along with everything else I do) it'd be... glorious.

Despite my rather arrogant and cynical description of the webcomicist's art above, I do read a number of truly wonderful webcomics:

• Collar6: It's ridiculous, it's absurdly kinky, and the setting seems like an absurd mix of a modern version of Exalted and a bondage fantasy... but I like it. Take from that what you may.
• Digger: The comic's own tagline says it best: "a wombat, a dead god, a most peculiar epic." I remember wanting to read this one back when it was on a pay site, and how happy I was when it finally went free.
• Drowtales: I've been meaning to write a longer ode to this comic, which actually has done a great deal to cure my elf rage. Seriously.
• Girl Genius: Does anyone not read Girl Genius? Really?
• Keychain of Creation: Like ORder of the Stick, but younger and for Exalted.
• MythAdventures: The team behind Girl Genius, bringing Robert Aspirin's creation to the screen. Top quality stuff.
• Order of the Stick: Rich Burlew's gently mocking presentation of a D&D-themed fantasy world is practically required reading for fantasy gamers everywhere. This story manages to oscillate perfectly between humor and drama, with real characters, really developing, in a hillarious and absurd world.

Unfortunately, I have never made the acquaintance of my opposite number - an artist with lots of time on his or her hands, eager to bring my mindchilds to life.

But some day. Someday...

Burning Guest Post Experience: Abbie Hilton and Persistent Worldbuilding

It is my great pleasure to introduce Abbie Hilton, author of The Guild of the Cowry Catchers. Abbie does such a great job introducing herself, that I'm going to leave it at that, save for linkifying a few of her words.


Read on. Enjoy.

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Hi! I'm Abbie Hilton from The Guild of the Cowry Catchers podcast, and Mark asked me to do a guest post for Burning Zeppelin. My current podcast is a dark, nautical fantasy about pirates and banned books and unusual interpersonal relationships. I try to do some interesting things with gender roles and sexuality as well as ship fights and blood in the scuppers. The books are set in a pre-industrial world called Panamindorah, populated with creatures called shelts, as well as some species of talking animal. Shelts are derivatives of fauns. They have the two legs and tail of some type of animal and look like humans from the waist up. In addition, they share certain traits with their animal counterparts. In some cases, shelts and their animals have diverged in their lifestyles and evolution, while in other cases they live in symbiotic (or parasitic) relationships. In some instances, a shelt or animal species is extinct, leaving the surviving half with no counterpart. The only human-looking creatures in Panamindorah are shape shifters whose true form is a dragon. They were so powerful and long-lived that they became a menace. In the distant past, the shelts and animals of Panamindorah rallied and killed nearly all of them. The few that remain keep a low profile. There is magic in Panamindorah, but it appears so rarely that the reader may forget it exists. 

I've podcast another, unrelated series set in this world called The Prophet of Panamindorah. I've got a third series, Walk Upon High, that I've not yet released.
 
Mark wanted me to talk about the phenomena of a persistent fantasy world in which an author continues to work through multiple stories over multiple years. I created Panamindorah when I was about 16 and I'm now 33, so it's been around for over half my life. It was my second created world. For each new series, I move to a different part of the world at a different point in time, and I've written a number of short stories in addition to the epics. I'm the sort of writer who doesn't know what happened until she writes it. Consequently, creating all these stories gives the world a sense of history and texture that it might lack if I'd only outlined the surrounding story-scape. I also like to use ideas from actual human history in my books, and since I haven't published anything, I'm able to go back into the stories and tweak minor details so that everything remains consistent. This is changing now that I've podcast them. I've yet to decide whether that's a good thing.

Writing in the same world does have disadvantages. I've grown over time, and my world has grown with me. Prophet had a more simplistic world view than Cowry Catchers because Prophet is the work of my adolescence and Cowry Catchers is the work of my adulthood. However, it's still the same world with connecting storylines and overlapping character timelines. Walk Upon High is the story that connects Cowry Catchers and Prophet. I need to re-write it, since its plot and that of Cowry Catchers are currently mutually exclusive.

These are tangles you run into when you keep writing in the same world, but for me the benefits are worth the trade-ff. I'm more interested in plot and character than in world-building. With Panamindorah, the hard part is done, and it has been test-driven for basic flaws of logic. If I want something a little alien, I can easily find a remote corner of the world or a distant point in time where everything feels new again. It's fun and interesting to imagine how the events in the stories might be passed down in the world itself - how they might be embellished into legends or myths or even deformed out of all recognition. Staying in the same world allows me to build that kind of scaffolding.

As much as I love Panamindorah, I did not make conscious plans to camp in it forever. If I find a story I can't tell there, I'll go tell it somewhere else. However, Panamindorah has a lot of elasticity. I'm sure I'll wander to other places, but I suspect I'll still be returning to this world and its stories decades from now. As fun as a new friend can be, there's no substitute for someone who's known you your whole life.

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As I said when I first asked Abbie to do this guest post, I find the idea of writing in a persistent world a little alien. I'm the fantasy worldbuilding equivalent of Pa Ingalls, always driven to discover what new world lies beyond the next wrinkle of my gray matter. I hope Abbie's writing has helped you see a little of the other side.


And, in case I haven't said it enough, check out Abbie's stuff! Of all the many, many podcasts in my stable right now, The Guild of the Cowry Catchers is the one I look forward to most, and I listen to a lot of great podcasts, so that's saying a lot.


So, thanks again, Abbie Hilton. And the rest of you...


You know, I really need a sendoff that doesn't make me want to throw up. A topic for another day. Goodnight, folks.