Writers vs. ultra-fans

I direct you to a very interesting blog post from Kevin J. Anderson (and also from Brian Herbert, with whom he has co-authored the new series of Dune novels) regarding the difficulties of writing in an established universe, particularity one created by a deceased author, and the unreasonable fan reactions it can provoke.

Dramatic Rituals

Outside a tent of the 4077th Mobile Army Surgical Hospital, “Radar” O’Reilly stands talking to Surgeon “Hawkeye” Pierce. Suddenly, Radar looks distracted. “Choppers,” he says gravely.

Hawkeye looks around. “I don’t hear anything.”

But then, a few seconds later, the distant sound of approaching rotor-blades can be heard.

The PA speakers crackle to life. “Attention! Incoming wounded,” an urgent voice warns, “all personnel report to the hospital!”

-

Millionaire Bruce Wayne hangs up the red phone in his private study.
His ward, Dick Grayson, who has been listening to the call watches him intently.

Wayne flips back the hinged head of a bronze bust of Shakesphere, revealing a switch hidden in the neck. He flips it back revealing a hidden switch. He activates the switch, and across the room, a bookcase slides back revealing a hidden passage. The wall inside reads: “Access to Batcave.”

Wayne turns to his ward. “To the bat-poles, chum!”

-

On the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, Captain Picard gazes into the forward view-screen. “Mr. Data! Set course for starbase 113, warp-factor seven! Engage!”

-

In a flash of light, Doctor Sam Beckett finds himself finds himself in a strange time and place, in a body not his own. He takes a moment to realize how uncomfortable his new situation is, then mutters, “oh, boy.”

-

Facing unimaginable danger, a mild-mannered reporter for a major metropolitan newspaper steps into a store-room and emerges seconds later transformed into a dashing hero in flowing cape.

-

Facing unimaginable danger, a plucky boy named Billy stands tall and shouts to the heavens, “Shazam!” With a bolt of lightning, he is transformed into a towering adult hero in flowing cape.

-

Facing unimaginable danger, a mild-mannered prince draws a magic sword, holds it high, and shouts, “by the power of Greyskull!” With a bolt of lightning, he is transformed into a heroic warrior.

-

A non-nonsense man’s voice monotones, “It was Friday, 9:15AM, we were working the day-watch out of homicide. My partner’s name is Gannon. My name is Friday. I carry a badge.”

-

The man turns on the small tape-recorder. The reels spin. “Mr. Phelps, your mission, should you decide to accept it,” says a voice from the tape, which continues with a brief description of some threat to U.S. security. It ends with, “as always, in the event you or any of your IMF team are caught or killed, the secretary with disavow all knowledge of their actions. Good luck. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds.”

-

Facing overwhelming numbers, the Three Musketeers draw their swords. “All for one,” they cry in unison, “and one for all!”

-

Though they differ in many ways, all of the above are examples of dramatic ritual, a valuable and under-appreciated device used most often in serial fiction. It’s most often seen (especially in its most obvious form) in television and comics, but it can be used in prose fiction as well.

Dramatic rituals can be long or short, obvious or subtle, but they all represent some ritualistic element repeated in most every installment of the serial (sometimes more than once).

Many such rituals are so rigid that they carry little or no original information, and do little to directly advance the plot. Rather, they often are indicative of some sort of transition, of place, status, condition, or emotion.

This subject was suggested by a recent discussion I had about the television show, Stargate, SG-1. I bemoaned the fact that the writers have taken to increasingly shortcutting past several elements of the show that are classic examples of dramatic ritual. The two major ones that come to mind both involve the Stargate, an alien transportation device, a large ring that opens worm-holes, portals to distant world.

The first such Stargate ritual is the most elaborate, called “dialing the gate.” This is the process by which a set of coordinates is sent to the Stargate, opening an outgoing portal to another world. In this, technicians in a control room enter the coordinates through a computer program. The gate activates, and ring covered with symbols spins around the outside of the device. One by one, a series of “chevrons” around the ring locks into place, corresponding with a particular symbol on the ring. As each locks, a voice announces, “Chevron six encoded, chevron five encoded,” and so-on, until the last is encoded, and the gate opens in a fountain of liquid energy.

The second is when Earth’s Stargate address is dialed by a Stargate on another planet. In this, a warning klaxon sounds, lights flash, and a voice announces, “unscheduled off-world activation!” The station comes to high alert, and a protective iris closes over the gate as the wormhole forms. They will then listen for a “GDO” signal, indicating that the activation was by friendly forces, and that it’s safe to open the iris and allow the incoming travelers through.

I don’t think there’s any fan of this show whose blood doesn’t stir a little bit at the sound of the Stargate activating. It’s a programmed, Pavlovian response: Something interesting is about to happen, and something very dangerous could happen! Get ready!

Dramatic ritual can simply be words, or a series of actions. Often, it also incorporates musical themes or sounds effects. In prose, it can include repeated descriptions or language.

The use of ritual is probably as old as human tribalism. It’s a way of unifying individuals in purpose and intent. It’s a way of encouraging loyalty, faithfulness, and patriotism. It’s why we have oaths, pledges, and prayers, and why we value those things so highly. It’s not surprising that writers have long included ritual in their story-telling.

What a wonderful dramatic tool! By merely invoking the words and actions of the ritual, little more than a cut-and-paste operation, the writer can engage and excite the reader (or viewer). They can, in a single stroke, emotionally prime them to be ready for action, romance, danger, suspense, or even humor.

Given the power of such ritual devices, and the wonderful ones available to the Stargate writers, why would they turn their back on them? There are, I think, many reasons.

It is the nature of working on most kinds of serial fiction that the creators often tire of their subject matter much faster than the audience. This is a consequence that creators spend much more time with the material than the audience, and over uninterrupted periods of time. The nature of television only makes this worse. If we hear, “chevron six encoded,” once in an episode, the writers may have seen it in a half-dozen script drafts, and it was probably rehearsed, filmed, and re-recorded many dozens of times.

It’s also the nature of serial fiction that, while the creators may be exposed to each and every installment of their creation, most of their audience will not. Those that do are the most fanatical, and perhaps the most likely to appreciate and value the rituals that the creators hold in low regard.

So, the simplest answer is that the Stargate creators are just sick and tired of the blasted gate, and want to get on with the story.

I suspect that use of rituals also runs counter to some writer's work ethic. Using them feels like a cheat, or a short-cut. If it isn't hard, it isn't good.

Another explanation is that the rituals simply take too much time. The Sequence by-which the Stargate is dialed is particularly long, having been developed for a feature film where it was only used once. Since then, StarGate has evolved from a pay-cable series to a series on a cable network infamous for the number of commercial minutes they wedge into an “hour” episode.

A writer working in such an environment has got consider every minute of screen-time precious. As I said before, rituals often do little to actually convey information or advance the plot. The temptation, then, is to edit them out first when time is short. In fact, it may be tempting to edit them out, even if time isn’t, to wedge in something else that the writers consider more interesting.

Yet, while I understand these things, I think it’s a mistake for the creators of this show (or any serial, dramatic or print) to completely eliminate their signature rituals, or to think of them as less than desirable elements of their fiction. While some minimizing can be forgiven, the rituals should be revisited in full on regular occasions (the dramatic equivalent of going to church or temple only on holy days, rather than not at all) to keep their power intact.
What else can we learn from all this?

1. That rituals have both power and utility to writers of serial fiction. They’re worthy additions to your creative toolbox. They aren't cheats. They're devices, and like any, they can be used or abused, done poorly, or well.

2. That rituals must be maintained and repeated to keep their power, and that once established, they should only be eliminated with good reason. That the creator is tired of them is rarely a good reason. It is more important to ask, is the audience tired of them? If so, then they need to be removed or reduced immediately, but not before.

3. That in creating dramatic rituals, it’s important to realize that you may have to live with them for a long time. Consider not only their potential power and effect on the audience, but how they will hold up under repetition. Will they ultimately prove to be a useful dramatic punctuation, or a story-speed-bump? A good rule of thumb is that brevity is a virtue.

Yet, even length can have it's virtues. Though that Stargate dialing sequence can seem to take forever, it also serves to build suspence and anticipation the longer it goes on.

And that’s all I have to say about that. I’m out of here.

“One to beam up, Scotty. Energize!”

Anok, Volume 2 review

A nice review of my second "Age of Conan" novel, as reviewed by Ryan Harvey, over on the Sword and Sorcery site.

By the way, if anyone spots reviews of any of my books out on the web (or in print) I much appreciate hearing about them.

Happy Thanksgiving

Here's wishing everyone out there a happy Thanksgiving. We have an invitation to dine with some writer friends tomorrow, but I did spend the day toiling over a hot Texas-smoker, doing turkey breasts to take along.

In honor of the occasion, I'm digging something out of the photo-archives here. One of my major hobbies is collecting 1/6th scale action figures (GI Joe and others). The 70s GI Joe Adventure Team, a group of pulp-inspired explorers, are a favorite of mine. I did this cartoon a few years ago, but it's still kind of amusing. Click on the image to see it full-sized.

Herbie delivers!

Today was our annual "launch the local toy-drive" photo event.

Shortly after we moved to the Oregon coast, we adopted the local firming toy drive as our chosen charity. I'm a toy nut anyway, and so it wasn't much of a stretch for me to check the toy clearance sections for good deals, and even when money was tight, I could usually scrape together a few extra bucks for a bargain toy.

At first, we couldn't afford much, but careful shopping (I try not to pay more than 25% of retail, and we spend on average about $5 per gift) and improving success in our writing careers changed things.

About four years ago, we discovered that we'd pretty much filled the back of our then-New Beetle, "The Tick." There was far too much for any remote collection point, so we figured out which fire station was being used to store the toys, and headed over.

Chris and I drove "The Tick" down to the fire-station collection point, walked into the lobby, and asked if there was a place we could take toys. The receptionist pointed to a collection box in the corner. We stared at it for a minute, then said, "it isn't big enough."

"Oh," she said, "I'll come and give you a hand." I seem to recall that she picked up a bag or small back, then she followed us out into the parking lot, and discovered we weren't kidding. She went back inside, and it was all-hands-on-deck to unload the Beetle.

The next year, Felix Roldan, the toy drive coordinator, asked if they could use our Beetle-full-of-toys as a photo-op for the media to kick off the year's drive, and thereafter, it's become a tradition.

This summer, of course, "The Tick" met his heroic end protecting my life in a traffic accident. We were wondering for a while if we'd be able to carry on the tradition. But then "Herbie" came into our life, and we now have a car even better suited to delivering toys to the kids.

That first year, the car seemed full, but we've now become experts at packing toys into VW New Beetles, and we've had to put those skills to the test. Last year, I drove, and we still ended up with toys on Chris' lap and on the dash. This year, Chris drove (letting us move the seat further forward) and I rode in the passenger seat with my knees nearly in my chin. Still that, plus the fact that our stuffed-animals were vacuum packed, gave us enough room to get everything in the back. Fortunately it wasn't raining today though, as we couldn't get the hatch closed!

You can't solve all the world's problems, but you can make it a better place by starting small. No child should suffer through the holidays without enough to eat, or without some small material reminder that somebody out there cares. Most areas have toy drives and food programs to help families in need during the holidays.

I encourage you to find one of these programs in your area, and contribute what you can. It doesn't have to be much. Skip that fast-food lunch today and make a cash donation, or buy a toy or some canned-goods for your local food bank. Do it, and do it now. Heck, do it later too. Just do it! Not only are their kids in need in your area, many agencies are also shipping toys to victims of Hurricane Katrina.

A toy can change a child's life. It can give hope and comfort. It can inspire a dream, or launch a career. Remember your favorite toy as a child, and the happiness it gave you? Now it's time to share that feeling.

Here are some links to help you locate a toy-drive local to your area:

Toy Drive Locator
Marine Toys for Tots Foundation

His name is Legion!

Above: Mike Moscoe, author of the Lost Millenium series, MechWarrior, and much more.

Below: generic cola

When Titans Gnash

Left: Loren Coleman, MechWarrior legend and fellow Conan writer.

Center: Mike Shepard, author of the Kris Longknife science fiction series.

Right: Jay Lake, ultra-prolific short-story writer and winner of this year's John W. Campbell award for best new writer.

War of the Words

Left: Ilsa J. Bick, author of multiple Star Trek SCE and Mechwarrior Dark Age books.

Right: Kristine Kathryn Rusch, multiple award winner, author of a gazillion novels and stories, and successful under multiple names in multiple genres (science-fiction, fantasy, mystery, romance). Probably the Thor of this little team-up.

When Authors Clash!

When I was a kid, I used to love the comics where everyone would show up. On one scale, you had the Avengers or the Justice League of America, super-teams that often consisted of major characters with their own titles. But even better were the things like the wedding (in Fantastic Four Annual #3) of Reed Richards and Sue Storm, where literally everyone in the then-Marvel universe showed up.

Now sure, it was cool when they fought, when radioactive apes crashed the party, or when it all turned into a brawl. But even as a kid, I best liked the moments where a god-of-thunder and a guy made of orange rocks would just stand around with a drink in their hands, chewing the fat and talking shop.

In a way, I get to relive those moments, big and small, on a regular basis now. Our little town is a secret nexis in the literary universe, where authors, both great and aspiring, often meet and mingle. I still take some secret delight in looking around the room and thinking about all the books and stories people in the room have published. Even at a small gathering, the books usually number in the hundreds, and I suspect we've gotten into the thousands at times.

Here are a few shots from a genre workshop held here this weekend. Not that big as they go, but there were still shelves of books represented, award-winners, and most every genre that you could imagine. Yet there they are, just hanging out like mortal humans, sipping generic soda-pop.

Cool!

Rad Party

Chris and I haven't been doing a lot of conventions in recent years, or doing a lot of parties when we have gone to conventions. Tonight, we decided to try making the party circuit. After several stops, we ended up spending several hours with the nice people from Radcon, an sf convention in Pasco, Washington.

We had a great time, and they made a very convincing case that we should attend. A lot of friends are going to be there, and it sounds like they treat their guest well, so we're thinking about it. The biggest problem for us is that Pasco is a pretty serious road-trip. Still, Herbie is due for a road-trip, so it's possible.

Review

Check out this very nice review of "Scion of the Serpent"

Just a happy pull-quote:

"Even if the two follow-up novels never appeared, Scion of the Serpent would stand as a worthwhile fantasy read. Thankfully, the next two books are on the way…and I’m eager to follow Anok deeper into the coils of the serpent."

Orycon, day 1

Well, so far...

Terrrible traffic getting into Portland.

They put us in a smoking room, despite our non-smoking reservation.

The pocket program has no relation to reality.

Oh, well.

Tomorrow I have a panel on Stress and the Creative Lifestyle at noon, an autographing at 1, and a reading at 3:30. I'm also crashing a panel Sunday on writing tie-in novels.

Off to Orycon

Tomorrow we're off to the Orycon science fiction convention in downtown Portland, OR. It will be strange this year, as this falls on the same weekend as World Fantasy Convention, and so many of the regulars won't be there. In fact, I don't know who will be there, exactly, beyond guests-of-honor Kevin J. Anderson and Rebecca Moesta. Still, son-Shane will be there, so we'll have a good time, no matter what. I'll take along the camera, and see if I can get a picture or two to share.

For today's picture, I offer you something a little more abstract, a little piece I call "The Nine Lives of Banzai."

Banzai is at the very least on life number two. He got sick this year, stopped eating, and very nearly wasted away. I was sure he was a goner, but I managed to coax him into eating shrimp (his favorite food in all the world) and from there we got him back on regular food and nursed him back to health.

Well, you wouldn't know this is a cat that nearly starved just a few months ago. The other day, I looked over at the cat door in the back door to my office, and realized that Banzai was so fat, he could barely struggle through it! Now I think he's spooked, and refuses to use the cat door at all. Banzai, is not the cat of half-way-measures. But if you're ready to go all in, rub the center of this picture and receive a cosmic infusion of the Banzai-force.

Where ever he goes, there he is.

(Hmmm. There's a story in all this...)

Back on the coast

We arrived back on the Oregon coast Sunday afternoon just in time for the wind and rain to return. Typical winter weather out here What's depressing is that summer went by and I had no time to enjoy it. Hopefully next summer will be better. I wouldn't count on it though.

This is one of those "problems you trade-up for." I'll have to explain that bit of writing wisdom for you at some point.

For today's picture, I'm posting the cover for Chris' upcoming "Alias APO" novel. Watch for it next year.

A vacation is a fragile thing

At some point today, I realized that I was no longer on vacation. We're in Portland, OR, and had decided to run a few shopping errands impossible to do in our small-town home. Traffic was terrible, the parking spaces were all too small, and we were lost and never exactly found what we were looking for, despite hours of driving around.

Suddenly, all the fun had been sucked out of life. Bleh. Tomorrow we return home, and I am slightly bummed. I'll know better next time.

Good news though. Just got an email from an editor that a story of mine is being bought for an upcoming anthology. I don't know the name of the anthology off the top of my head, but it's inspired by the Evil Overlord List, I wrote the story of a guy assigned to repair the heating and air-conditioning system for an Evil Overlord, and what he finds in those overly-large ducts...

Meanwhile, a creepy little self-portrait of Chris and I standing in the entry-hall of the Flavel House in Astoria. There are mirrors hung across from each other on the walls, and they create a nifty infinity effect.