This will be final post about my friend J.E. Tabor's second novel (draft), the Order of the Skull. This is the first time I've really gone through a book, picking it apart and deciding what I like and what I don't. Normally I read books to be entertained, to enjoy the story, not to exercise my incredible powers of negativity to drain all enjoyment out of the printed word. Fortunately, Tabor doesn't really mind it all that much: our friendship began in the fires of adversity (Freshman Theology), and can weather my blog posts. :)
First of all, I enjoyed it. I think it was better than his first book, One Man's Freedom Fighters. In truth, it's probably not as marketable, since the genre he picked is fairly unusual. Not that Tabor stays particularly close to his chosen genre though; I think Tabor's familiarity with pulp is generally limited to Indiana Jones, Sky Captain, and Spirit of the Century. I'm fairly certain that he could rewrite it to take place in present day without too many difficulties, other than losing his enjoyable historical references and the nods to the social attitudes (i.e. racism) of the day.
His characters need fleshing out. There's some nods to depth and backstory, but there doesn't seem to be a lot direct or indirect importance to them, other than the knowledge that Hawkins can shoot like a million people a second with a revolver. Carson and Calloway have potential to have their backstories more fully explored, and perhaps tied to the events of the novel in some way. Emily Carson also starts off as a capable, self-assured young woman before fading into a hostage and love interest. Sister Cecilia doesn't do much of anything, really, other than provide convenient info, and dump acid on someone (always a fun party trick).
Speaking of characters, they lack motivation. They end up getting involved because of some vision quest and vague feeling about the end of the world, driving them to pursue a dangerous secret society across the country. They seem to act almost solely because THE PLOT DEMANDS IT. And they still feel inherently reactive, almost more like the protagonist of a video game than a novel. They might want to stop the bad guy, but they pick up the quest from the Native American shaman with an exclamation point over his head.
The bad guys feel kind of weak, a little generic and poorly-formed. Eigenstulf, while having a great name, has only the motivation of wanting to end the world because the Great War was hell. Yet there's no passion there when he speaks, nothing to make me believe that he's anything other than an antagonist to be killed. And as I mentioned, the Seven Deadly Sins of the Order are kind of weak for a bunch of guys who sold their souls and practice black magic. And the fight scene between Hawkins and the Sins is so sad it should be ashamed of itself (I'd expect six ordinary guys to put up more of a fight against Clint Eastwood in a Western).
One idea I had is that maybe the protagonists should be the ones with the skull, and the bad guys are trying to recover it. And give them each one goal they want to accomplish. Maybe Carson is investigating the deaths of her parents or something. Perhaps Calloway already knows something about the Order and wants to stop them. Hell, maybe he was a member before it all got too dark and crazy. Something like that.
Also: make things more awesome. Turn the dial up to eleven. Don't just have the good guys and bad guys pass through town. Have them change the whole fucking city. Make the disease in Saint Louis directly the work of the Order. Don't have a fight in between train cars, where ordinary people might fight...bring the action on top of the cars, or under, or clinging from side to side. Defenestrate the bad guys with well-placed kicks. If Hawkins is some kind of magician with a gun, maybe Carson is good enough to race her automobile professionally. Maybe Calloway isn't just a bad cheat and worse liar, but a true Magnificent Bastard sidekick. This wouldn't work if Tabor had picked a different genre, of course, but if you've decided to write a pulp adventure story, why not make it over-the-top?
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Order of the Skull: Eleven and Epilogue
Tabor brushes over the task of Calloway finding Eigenstulf, and manages to track down his exact location within a sentence of the start of the chapter. I kind of thought it'd be harder. Dirk manages to bring up his backstory again, but it's never really touched on in the future. In fact, none of the characters really draw upon any of the stuff from their past. For example,we never see Carson's aunt and uncle in this entire story. As a reader, I get the feeling that more might be going on, but Tabor was in a rush to finish this draft and never bothered to fill out some of the details.
Calloway decides to take out Eigenstulf alone, with all the logic of a character deciding to stay behind and "hold them off" for all the time it takes twenty armed men to kill one (i.e., three seconds). There's a reason that Sister Cecilia supports his plan, though. And the problem with this scene, Calloway going off to face Eigenstulf, is that as a reader I know it isn't going to work. Especially since the fact they have one gun between them seems to be a problem easily remedied...in a few years, you could purchase Thompsons from Sears for twenty bucks. (They don't sell submachine guns these days...I asked).
Then we get the cool reveal that Sister Cecilia is actually possessed, when a gift from Emily Carson burns her flesh. Neat! Hawk and Emily head off to go kill Eigenstulf, and find themselves in another hostage situation, with Hawkins threatening the skull, while one of his friends is menaced. This feels a little tired. Especially since I don't know any reason why Eigenstulf (or any of the Order) would keep their little McGuffin bones in such easy to reach locations. Voldemort didn't exactly keep his Hocruxes in the trunk of his car, you know? Why not drop it off in a safe deposit box, or bury it underground in a safe, or hide in a hidden oasis guarded by a giant invisible spider (anyone know which story I just referenced?)?
Hawkins proves immune to some of Eigenstulf's magic, however, due to ignorance about his true name. I've read a very similar scene in Lies of Locke Lamora, although I know for a fact that Tabor hasn't read that particular book. An interesting bit of congruence, but for the reveal I think it needs a little more build-up. Their duel after this little reveal seems kind of forced, though, almost as if Mal and the Operative fought for another few minutes after the nerve strike fails. I think it would have been better pacing if Hawkins finished Eigenstulf then and there.
Here's a nice bit of dialogue near the end of the book, as the characters discuss the fate of the once-feared Order of the Skull:
“What, the secret society? Well, they have no leadership, and their base of operations has
been destroyed. I think that if anything will stamp them out, that would be it. I think from now
on the Order of the Skull will be relegated to a rich boy fraternity playing at occult and
superstition. Even so, I wouldn’t rule out another apocalyptic cult waiting in the wings, ready to
take advantage of void. I don’t think anything will ever change that.”
So true, so true. And the story quickly brings us the epilogue, with Hawk returning to get his money from the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Oh, yeah, that motivation, that I as a reader had completely forgotten about (well, not really, but most people would have, I think). I think it would have made Hawk and Dirk more likeable if they ended up not taking the money, but instead finding some other purpose in life than drifting. Hawk and Dirk end up talking about going into business together; then they get into another brawl. One thing is that I'm not entirely certain if Hawkins and Calloway ever really liked each other that much. They had a very caustic relationship. And the hero doesn't end up with the girl, with Hawkins and Carson going their separate ways off-screen. That's kind of disappointing. Still, the ending does make me smile, which is always nice.
Calloway decides to take out Eigenstulf alone, with all the logic of a character deciding to stay behind and "hold them off" for all the time it takes twenty armed men to kill one (i.e., three seconds). There's a reason that Sister Cecilia supports his plan, though. And the problem with this scene, Calloway going off to face Eigenstulf, is that as a reader I know it isn't going to work. Especially since the fact they have one gun between them seems to be a problem easily remedied...in a few years, you could purchase Thompsons from Sears for twenty bucks. (They don't sell submachine guns these days...I asked).
Then we get the cool reveal that Sister Cecilia is actually possessed, when a gift from Emily Carson burns her flesh. Neat! Hawk and Emily head off to go kill Eigenstulf, and find themselves in another hostage situation, with Hawkins threatening the skull, while one of his friends is menaced. This feels a little tired. Especially since I don't know any reason why Eigenstulf (or any of the Order) would keep their little McGuffin bones in such easy to reach locations. Voldemort didn't exactly keep his Hocruxes in the trunk of his car, you know? Why not drop it off in a safe deposit box, or bury it underground in a safe, or hide in a hidden oasis guarded by a giant invisible spider (anyone know which story I just referenced?)?
Hawkins proves immune to some of Eigenstulf's magic, however, due to ignorance about his true name. I've read a very similar scene in Lies of Locke Lamora, although I know for a fact that Tabor hasn't read that particular book. An interesting bit of congruence, but for the reveal I think it needs a little more build-up. Their duel after this little reveal seems kind of forced, though, almost as if Mal and the Operative fought for another few minutes after the nerve strike fails. I think it would have been better pacing if Hawkins finished Eigenstulf then and there.
Here's a nice bit of dialogue near the end of the book, as the characters discuss the fate of the once-feared Order of the Skull:
“What, the secret society? Well, they have no leadership, and their base of operations has
been destroyed. I think that if anything will stamp them out, that would be it. I think from now
on the Order of the Skull will be relegated to a rich boy fraternity playing at occult and
superstition. Even so, I wouldn’t rule out another apocalyptic cult waiting in the wings, ready to
take advantage of void. I don’t think anything will ever change that.”
So true, so true. And the story quickly brings us the epilogue, with Hawk returning to get his money from the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Oh, yeah, that motivation, that I as a reader had completely forgotten about (well, not really, but most people would have, I think). I think it would have made Hawk and Dirk more likeable if they ended up not taking the money, but instead finding some other purpose in life than drifting. Hawk and Dirk end up talking about going into business together; then they get into another brawl. One thing is that I'm not entirely certain if Hawkins and Calloway ever really liked each other that much. They had a very caustic relationship. And the hero doesn't end up with the girl, with Hawkins and Carson going their separate ways off-screen. That's kind of disappointing. Still, the ending does make me smile, which is always nice.
xxSkullxx
Order of the Skull, Chapter X. We start this chapter with the view from Calloway, since Hawkins went unconscious. They end up trapped underground, flooded by one of Eigenstulf's villainous traps. Carson ends up drugged, so her dialogue actually ends up being pretty funny, a lighter note when teh characters are surrounded by certain doom.
The writing in this chapter seems to be quite good, at least from a technical standpoint. Hawkins manages to do something incredibly stupid, the kind of thing you might expect from Willie of Temple of Doom instead of a generally competent sharpshooter. I think the underwater, underground escape scene could use a little more work, since I can only imagine it would be a terrifying ordeal. As a writer, I'd enjoy writing it properly, since typically in movies there's way too much light (like 13th Warrior). Make it a frantic experience of navigating by touch and current alone, against the clock of the dwindling oxygen in your lungs. Really, the kind of scene that only a book could do properly.
The characters then try to deal with Hawk's evident possession. Tabor does something clever as hell here. I'm not quite certain how well it would work in real life, but it's a cool enough trick that I'd let it slide as a reader. The characters decide that to cure Hawkins, they need to kill Eigenstulf. I do notice that the police have yet to be involved during their time in Boston, which seems a little interesting since they did beat up that cop on the way there.
The writing in this chapter seems to be quite good, at least from a technical standpoint. Hawkins manages to do something incredibly stupid, the kind of thing you might expect from Willie of Temple of Doom instead of a generally competent sharpshooter. I think the underwater, underground escape scene could use a little more work, since I can only imagine it would be a terrifying ordeal. As a writer, I'd enjoy writing it properly, since typically in movies there's way too much light (like 13th Warrior). Make it a frantic experience of navigating by touch and current alone, against the clock of the dwindling oxygen in your lungs. Really, the kind of scene that only a book could do properly.
The characters then try to deal with Hawk's evident possession. Tabor does something clever as hell here. I'm not quite certain how well it would work in real life, but it's a cool enough trick that I'd let it slide as a reader. The characters decide that to cure Hawkins, they need to kill Eigenstulf. I do notice that the police have yet to be involved during their time in Boston, which seems a little interesting since they did beat up that cop on the way there.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Order of the Skull: Eating Nine
I'm going to discuss the next two chapters of Order of the Skull. The chapter opens with a poker game between our hero Hawkins and the villain Eigenstulf. Tabor, at least, shows some experience with poker, by not having the winning hand be a straight or full house; instead, it's a king-high bluff against less than a king high bluff. He even discusses the poker strategy that the characters are using.
One thing I find interesting is that when Hawkins does get his hand on the skull (as a result of beating Eigenstulf), he mentions that it's a culmination of months of effort. I never really got the impression that these characters had spent months chasing this thing. I mean, they took a drive and a train ride. It's not like they hiked all the way across America.
And then, because the men of the story had turned their backs on them for one freaking second, the women of the story end up as hostages. This is one pulp trope that I'd rather Tabor not use.
The scene cuts to Sister Cecelia, the waffling nun. This might be the first time the action has shifted away from Hawk, but it's necessary to establish the situation the women are in. Unfortunately, the situation isn't all that interesting, since all Eigenstulf does is give the "We are not so different, you and I..." Evil Villain Recruitment Speech. Seriously, what's this guy's hiring policy? Will he take anyone? Should I send him my resume? The bad guy's long term goals are also revealed, the typical apocalyptic BS about causing the end of the world...doesn't make a lot of sense for a bunch of rich guys who own everything, but whatever.
Tabor does a good job writing this section, I think, at least physically, but with this viewpoint change we don't get a good sense of just who is Sister Cecilia. So far, the entire character doesn't seem to have much point, other than giving Dirk a date to the masquerade (albeit one with an inconvenient vow of celibacy). I suspect that Tabor had some authorial plan for the character that just never materialized.
The characters have trouble finding the island on a map, and I'm reminded of a line from MST3K. "Being good with maps is like being good at eating cereal." There's kind of a low skillcap, you know? This seems like a pointless obstacle to throw in front of the characters at this point...as if Indiana Jones couldn't get to the Ark of the Covenant in time because his car gets a flat tire, and he doesn't know how to fix it.
After they overcome that terrible obstacle, the two men make their way into the headquarters of the Order, which they do with surprising ease. Suddenly, after the characters finally learn enough to be dangerous and manage to almost disrupt the villain's plans, they're no longer followed and harassed at every opportunity. In a move of even greater stupidity, the evil cult leaves the skulls, secret to their dark demonic power, unguarded.
A confrontation ensues. There's another hostage scenario, with the hostage sitting by helplessly waiting for Hawk to save them, since he seems to be the only one in this story allowed to ever really succeed at anything. And succeed he does. He ends up facing off against all six of the demonic cultists with scary supernatural powers...and kills five of them at once. With bullets. It's not like he even shoots them in the back while they're doing some chanting either. What. A. Letdown.
The reader in me is thinking that obviously this is a trick, that they're just some poor mooks dressed in fancy robes, so then the real bad guys come out behind the corner and enjoy a good laugh at their minion's expense. Nope. It's not even a plan from Eigenstulf where he renders all of his buddies impotent, so he can gain full control over the cult. Speaking of mooks, they're all gone by this point. I guess they're not allowed on Elk Island.
The chapter ends with another hostage trade, and a sudden but inevitable betrayal by the bad guy. This wasn't the actual climax, I think, but it makes you wonder why anyone would bother selling their soul to the devil if they end up getting taken out like such chumps. The Order of the Denarius from the Dresden Files could teach these losers a thing or two, I think.
One thing I find interesting is that when Hawkins does get his hand on the skull (as a result of beating Eigenstulf), he mentions that it's a culmination of months of effort. I never really got the impression that these characters had spent months chasing this thing. I mean, they took a drive and a train ride. It's not like they hiked all the way across America.
And then, because the men of the story had turned their backs on them for one freaking second, the women of the story end up as hostages. This is one pulp trope that I'd rather Tabor not use.
The scene cuts to Sister Cecelia, the waffling nun. This might be the first time the action has shifted away from Hawk, but it's necessary to establish the situation the women are in. Unfortunately, the situation isn't all that interesting, since all Eigenstulf does is give the "We are not so different, you and I..." Evil Villain Recruitment Speech. Seriously, what's this guy's hiring policy? Will he take anyone? Should I send him my resume? The bad guy's long term goals are also revealed, the typical apocalyptic BS about causing the end of the world...doesn't make a lot of sense for a bunch of rich guys who own everything, but whatever.
Tabor does a good job writing this section, I think, at least physically, but with this viewpoint change we don't get a good sense of just who is Sister Cecilia. So far, the entire character doesn't seem to have much point, other than giving Dirk a date to the masquerade (albeit one with an inconvenient vow of celibacy). I suspect that Tabor had some authorial plan for the character that just never materialized.
The characters have trouble finding the island on a map, and I'm reminded of a line from MST3K. "Being good with maps is like being good at eating cereal." There's kind of a low skillcap, you know? This seems like a pointless obstacle to throw in front of the characters at this point...as if Indiana Jones couldn't get to the Ark of the Covenant in time because his car gets a flat tire, and he doesn't know how to fix it.
After they overcome that terrible obstacle, the two men make their way into the headquarters of the Order, which they do with surprising ease. Suddenly, after the characters finally learn enough to be dangerous and manage to almost disrupt the villain's plans, they're no longer followed and harassed at every opportunity. In a move of even greater stupidity, the evil cult leaves the skulls, secret to their dark demonic power, unguarded.
A confrontation ensues. There's another hostage scenario, with the hostage sitting by helplessly waiting for Hawk to save them, since he seems to be the only one in this story allowed to ever really succeed at anything. And succeed he does. He ends up facing off against all six of the demonic cultists with scary supernatural powers...and kills five of them at once. With bullets. It's not like he even shoots them in the back while they're doing some chanting either. What. A. Letdown.
The reader in me is thinking that obviously this is a trick, that they're just some poor mooks dressed in fancy robes, so then the real bad guys come out behind the corner and enjoy a good laugh at their minion's expense. Nope. It's not even a plan from Eigenstulf where he renders all of his buddies impotent, so he can gain full control over the cult. Speaking of mooks, they're all gone by this point. I guess they're not allowed on Elk Island.
The chapter ends with another hostage trade, and a sudden but inevitable betrayal by the bad guy. This wasn't the actual climax, I think, but it makes you wonder why anyone would bother selling their soul to the devil if they end up getting taken out like such chumps. The Order of the Denarius from the Dresden Files could teach these losers a thing or two, I think.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Order of the Skull: Why is Six Afraid of Seven?
Chapter Six was fairly short, so I kept reading ahead and finished Chapter Seven as well. I enjoyed both of these chapters quite a bit. There's an assassination attempt on the train that has some good writing in it, doing a good job describing the noise and wind of a speeding train. Then there comes a situation where the protagonists are forced to think fast...and don't. Deception and violence solve the issue eventually, though.
And so ends the very short chapter six, leading to seven, where things begin to get a little more interesting. Early on, there's a mention of werewolves...I'm not sure if this was some kind of typo and it's meant to say "warlock" (a term later used), or if this is a world with werewolves as well as demons. What is this, the Dresden Files? :)
Tabor uses the old chestnut, so common to James Bond, of infiltrating the bad guy's party. And this party turns out to be a masquerade. I think that the number of masked balls in fiction vastly outnumber the ones that have taken place in real life...ever (not counting Halloween, of course). A quick little side note is that the characters have a short discussion about the politics of the moment (what a fine phrase), reminding the reader about what's going on in the country at this point in time. Tabor in general has a decent eye for history, although I'm not sure how accurate he depicts the racism of the times.
Annoying, Tabor does include the classic (and bad, in my opinion) bluff of "Do you want to go get your boss, ask him, and get in trouble?" I'm not saying this might not work on occasion, but it seems ever time any book, movie, or TV character wants to try that one, it works. Villains really need to outline these kinds of situations in their employee handbooks: make a note for the Evil Overlord list.
Now, here's where I'm puzzled. They head into the lair of the villain, then pull off their masks. After it becomes known that Lucas Eigenstulf, in addition to seeming to know the whereabouts of these guys at all times, also knows Dirk; they were in the same school, and army unit. And it's not like there's a vast multitude of Native Americans in Boston.
So when it's revealed that Eigenstulf knows exactly who they are, it's not exactly a surprise. It would be far more of a surprise if he didn't recognize his war buddy, and couldn't put two and two together and figure out who Hawkins was. Then we reach the end of the chapter, with the following passage.
Pencil and Curtains leaned back from the table, glancing back and forth nervously. “I
apologize, but this charade was too much for my nerves,” Eigenstolf said. “Skullsman, please
get my bag.” He nodded at pencil, who promptly stood and scurried across the room. He
emerged from behind the bar with an old brown sack. He tossed it to Eigenstolf, who caught it
in one hand.
“I was thinking we should put some real skin in this game,” He said, as he reached into
the small cloth sack. “Or, bone, rather,” he added, as he pulled the yellowish-brown object,
sowing thousands of dust particles in the wake. He set the decades old human skull carelessly on
the pile of cash in the center of the bright crimson poker table.
Finally, the skull makes an appearance. Well, it's a skull, at least; they tend to look the same to the untrained eye. Playing poker for the McGuffin; classic. Not sure what stakes Calloway and Hawkins will bring to the table, though. I do hope that Tabor finally makes a fictional poker game fairly realistic. In every fictional game of poker, everyone draws these straights, flushes, four of a kinds, full houses...you name it. The important hands always feature each player with improbably good cards. No one ever gets taken out by a pair of nines, unlike real poker.
And so ends the very short chapter six, leading to seven, where things begin to get a little more interesting. Early on, there's a mention of werewolves...I'm not sure if this was some kind of typo and it's meant to say "warlock" (a term later used), or if this is a world with werewolves as well as demons. What is this, the Dresden Files? :)
Tabor uses the old chestnut, so common to James Bond, of infiltrating the bad guy's party. And this party turns out to be a masquerade. I think that the number of masked balls in fiction vastly outnumber the ones that have taken place in real life...ever (not counting Halloween, of course). A quick little side note is that the characters have a short discussion about the politics of the moment (what a fine phrase), reminding the reader about what's going on in the country at this point in time. Tabor in general has a decent eye for history, although I'm not sure how accurate he depicts the racism of the times.
Annoying, Tabor does include the classic (and bad, in my opinion) bluff of "Do you want to go get your boss, ask him, and get in trouble?" I'm not saying this might not work on occasion, but it seems ever time any book, movie, or TV character wants to try that one, it works. Villains really need to outline these kinds of situations in their employee handbooks: make a note for the Evil Overlord list.
Now, here's where I'm puzzled. They head into the lair of the villain, then pull off their masks. After it becomes known that Lucas Eigenstulf, in addition to seeming to know the whereabouts of these guys at all times, also knows Dirk; they were in the same school, and army unit. And it's not like there's a vast multitude of Native Americans in Boston.
So when it's revealed that Eigenstulf knows exactly who they are, it's not exactly a surprise. It would be far more of a surprise if he didn't recognize his war buddy, and couldn't put two and two together and figure out who Hawkins was. Then we reach the end of the chapter, with the following passage.
Pencil and Curtains leaned back from the table, glancing back and forth nervously. “I
apologize, but this charade was too much for my nerves,” Eigenstolf said. “Skullsman, please
get my bag.” He nodded at pencil, who promptly stood and scurried across the room. He
emerged from behind the bar with an old brown sack. He tossed it to Eigenstolf, who caught it
in one hand.
“I was thinking we should put some real skin in this game,” He said, as he reached into
the small cloth sack. “Or, bone, rather,” he added, as he pulled the yellowish-brown object,
sowing thousands of dust particles in the wake. He set the decades old human skull carelessly on
the pile of cash in the center of the bright crimson poker table.
Finally, the skull makes an appearance. Well, it's a skull, at least; they tend to look the same to the untrained eye. Playing poker for the McGuffin; classic. Not sure what stakes Calloway and Hawkins will bring to the table, though. I do hope that Tabor finally makes a fictional poker game fairly realistic. In every fictional game of poker, everyone draws these straights, flushes, four of a kinds, full houses...you name it. The important hands always feature each player with improbably good cards. No one ever gets taken out by a pair of nines, unlike real poker.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Order of the Skull V
Moving on to Chapter Five, we have another coincidence with the religious folk: in addition to a Sister who's an expert on the occult, we have a Father who's a conspiracy buff. If this were a novel that takes place in a world that even pretends to be realistic, I'd suspect a trap of some kind, but I'm guessing this is just a nod to the incredible coincidneces of the genre.
Then the Sister joins the protagonists in such a way that I half expected the novel to take a break and "SISTER CECILIA has joined the party" to flash across my computer screen. I could actually see this as a video game, actually...I've heard of worse settings and plots.
Awkward, semi-forced emotional outbursts and quite literal explosions later, the scene advances. Calloway manages to dodge some inconvenient police questions, and delivers a cynical line worthy of myself: "What did I tell you? You cannot go wrong by assuming people are either apathetic or stupid.” True wisdom right there. :)
The chapter goes on to confront the two dark issues of fashion AND racism, and more of the character's histories are revealed. It becomes increasingly obvious that Hawkins and Carter are going to end up together, assuming they both survive. Sister Cecilia doesn't manage to do much to justify her inclusion so far, although amusingly she has more luggage than the other characters who HAVEN'T taken a vow of poverty.
I like this chapter a little more than the others, perhaps because it doesn't barrel along at such a frantic pace. It's about taking a train to Boston. Characters stop, interact, think, and talk. The 'why' questions of the conflict remain elusive, of course, particularly for the antagonists. Why the hell are they going to so much trouble to stop a bunch of random nobodies? You'd think there'd have to be something special about them, or some hidden personal relationship, to merit the lengths the Order goes to take them out.
Then the Sister joins the protagonists in such a way that I half expected the novel to take a break and "SISTER CECILIA has joined the party" to flash across my computer screen. I could actually see this as a video game, actually...I've heard of worse settings and plots.
Awkward, semi-forced emotional outbursts and quite literal explosions later, the scene advances. Calloway manages to dodge some inconvenient police questions, and delivers a cynical line worthy of myself: "What did I tell you? You cannot go wrong by assuming people are either apathetic or stupid.” True wisdom right there. :)
The chapter goes on to confront the two dark issues of fashion AND racism, and more of the character's histories are revealed. It becomes increasingly obvious that Hawkins and Carter are going to end up together, assuming they both survive. Sister Cecilia doesn't manage to do much to justify her inclusion so far, although amusingly she has more luggage than the other characters who HAVEN'T taken a vow of poverty.
I like this chapter a little more than the others, perhaps because it doesn't barrel along at such a frantic pace. It's about taking a train to Boston. Characters stop, interact, think, and talk. The 'why' questions of the conflict remain elusive, of course, particularly for the antagonists. Why the hell are they going to so much trouble to stop a bunch of random nobodies? You'd think there'd have to be something special about them, or some hidden personal relationship, to merit the lengths the Order goes to take them out.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Skulls and Stuff, Part Four
And now I return to my friend's second novel, the long-awaited (by me, at least) Order of the Skull. Again, there's a strange split in the chapter that I myself wouldn't have used, preferring a little more closure in between chapters. One character ends up getting hit in the head with a hammer, hard, then manages to carry on a quite normal, if strained, conversation with the characters. And my impression that it was a pretty solid blow too.
That surprises me. I expected this guy to have been incapacitated by the blow. Granted, I'm not any kind of expert in trauma (in fact, the only time I've ever had to go to the hospital is when I was born), although not for lack of trying. Sadly, whenever I ask injury-related questions to the nurses, doctors, and paramedics I know, they just look at me like I'm deranged. Alas. So I was surprised that the poor victim manages to spit out his lines without hindrance.
Then we have an interesting little exorcism scene...sadly, my first thought was "Shouldn't they be speaking Latin?" Pre-Vatican II? During an exorcism? Also, I'm not sure that a nun would have attempted an exorcism herself, although we later find that she was always interested in the occult (how convenient).It seems as though one of the characters is, in fact, possessed; between that and the undead, this is pretty clearly more like Indiana Jones than Man of Bronze (just for the record: Indiana Jones is way better).
And for a woman of faith, Sister Cecilia comes off looking pretty weak; when the demon starts mocking the Bible, she replies that "It's all we have." If I was dedicated my life to God, I'd like to think I could muster up a better reply than that. She gets a cool moment later lobbing some holy water, then after striking that decisive blow she decides to freeze and panic. ?
During the exorcism, the demon dumps some plot, then another action scene pops up. It starts off kind of poor, but gunfights in a church are always fun. I'm a little disappointed in how easily one guy went down, though; if this were a video game, I'd predict he'd be back with a vengeance in a few hours.
Also, disappointingly, Tabor references Roman magic. Roman. When I think of ancient civilizations with magical traditions, the Romans aren't exactly the people who come to mind. In fact, they're probably the last. Aleister Crowley and the Order of the Golden Dawn didn't exactly draw on the mystical traditions of Rome, did they? No one worries about Roman curses either. To be fair, we've had this argument before, and Tabor is still obsessed with all things Roman. He's still wrong though. :)
Some interesting things happen in this chapter, but this part of the book feels like it needs a little more work. Here's where things become overtly supernatural, full of demons and magic. And we learn that the bad guy wants Geronimo's skull as part of a hazing ritual, which made me laugh out loud (that's not actually true, but one of the characters does suggest it).
We learn a little bit more about the characters; evidently Emily Carson has cracked open a few tombs in her day. But there's even more questions. It seemed that the antagonist, Reinfeld, chasing them has fully merged with a demon, whereas Eigenstulf the master villain only seeks to accomplish that. So then why is Reinfeld chasing down some loser small-fry while Eingestulf does whatever with the skull? Shouldn't he be telling Eigenstulf to handle his own goddamn problems?
I'm not saying there's not answers to these, but they are certainly questions I'm thinking about as I'm reading.
That surprises me. I expected this guy to have been incapacitated by the blow. Granted, I'm not any kind of expert in trauma (in fact, the only time I've ever had to go to the hospital is when I was born), although not for lack of trying. Sadly, whenever I ask injury-related questions to the nurses, doctors, and paramedics I know, they just look at me like I'm deranged. Alas. So I was surprised that the poor victim manages to spit out his lines without hindrance.
Then we have an interesting little exorcism scene...sadly, my first thought was "Shouldn't they be speaking Latin?" Pre-Vatican II? During an exorcism? Also, I'm not sure that a nun would have attempted an exorcism herself, although we later find that she was always interested in the occult (how convenient).It seems as though one of the characters is, in fact, possessed; between that and the undead, this is pretty clearly more like Indiana Jones than Man of Bronze (just for the record: Indiana Jones is way better).
And for a woman of faith, Sister Cecilia comes off looking pretty weak; when the demon starts mocking the Bible, she replies that "It's all we have." If I was dedicated my life to God, I'd like to think I could muster up a better reply than that. She gets a cool moment later lobbing some holy water, then after striking that decisive blow she decides to freeze and panic. ?
During the exorcism, the demon dumps some plot, then another action scene pops up. It starts off kind of poor, but gunfights in a church are always fun. I'm a little disappointed in how easily one guy went down, though; if this were a video game, I'd predict he'd be back with a vengeance in a few hours.
Also, disappointingly, Tabor references Roman magic. Roman. When I think of ancient civilizations with magical traditions, the Romans aren't exactly the people who come to mind. In fact, they're probably the last. Aleister Crowley and the Order of the Golden Dawn didn't exactly draw on the mystical traditions of Rome, did they? No one worries about Roman curses either. To be fair, we've had this argument before, and Tabor is still obsessed with all things Roman. He's still wrong though. :)
Some interesting things happen in this chapter, but this part of the book feels like it needs a little more work. Here's where things become overtly supernatural, full of demons and magic. And we learn that the bad guy wants Geronimo's skull as part of a hazing ritual, which made me laugh out loud (that's not actually true, but one of the characters does suggest it).
We learn a little bit more about the characters; evidently Emily Carson has cracked open a few tombs in her day. But there's even more questions. It seemed that the antagonist, Reinfeld, chasing them has fully merged with a demon, whereas Eigenstulf the master villain only seeks to accomplish that. So then why is Reinfeld chasing down some loser small-fry while Eingestulf does whatever with the skull? Shouldn't he be telling Eigenstulf to handle his own goddamn problems?
I'm not saying there's not answers to these, but they are certainly questions I'm thinking about as I'm reading.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Death Before...Whatever
I had high expectations for the new video game Dishonored. Everything I read about it made it seem as cool as hell. Having beaten the game now, I come away a little disappointed. I read on Steam that Dishonored was revitalizing the stealth genre, which is ridiculous...there have been plenty of stealth games lately. And the best comparison to Dishonored is Deux Ex:HR: both stealth games where the protagonist has cool powers and jumps around on rooftops.
Dishonored is better, of course, with more real choices and more open-ended gameplay. Also, swords.
But enough about the gameplay, let's talk about what interests me about the game. I know that some people weren't a fan of the setting, and the various elements it tries to combine. I like it, personally; it could have done with more fleshing out in the game, but I appreciate the effort to make something a little more unique and memorable. I did find it difficult to describe to my friends when I talked about Dishonored, finally settling on phrases like "dark steampunk" or "facist steampunk." Dishonored does a good job of creating an overall feeling of despair as a city dies, but it could have done with more random people trying their best to survive.
But while the setting of Dishonored is, to a certain extent, unique, the rest of the game is not. This is not, you understand, necessarily a bad thing. In marketing and product design, there's an idea called the twenty percent rule. Well, there are a lot of "twenty percent rules" in just about everything, but this particular one concerns change. People, as a general rule, aren't comfortable with big, sweeping changes. So when you design things, it's probably a bad idea to create huge changes, instead settling on changing one thing.
But the plot is what you expect from a game where your Empress (and, presumably, lover) dies in the introduction: a Roaring Rampage of Revenge. It's fairly paint-by-the-numbers, as you eliminate the support network of the bad guy before tracking him down for retribution. There's a plot twist in there, that I'm pretty sure that anyone who has ever played a video game before, ever, would have seen coming. In just one game, just one, I wish the protagonist would spot the obvious and think of a way to turn it to his advantage, instead of just blundering into it like a moron.
Character-wise, the protagonist is basically a blank killing machine who doesn't even have a real voice...doesn't anyone remember that was one of the real draws of the ME franchise? An RPG protagonist with solid voice-acting? There is one nice touch, though; he always takes off his scary mask before talking to a certain character that he cares about. I would like to add, however, that this scary clockwork mask does essentially NOTHING, and probably weighs way too much...ever heard of a ski mask?
So yeah, Dishonored is pretty fun, although it does amuse me that in stealth games I prefer to play like a bloodthirsty maniac. Even in Thief (the first one). I'll be posting some more of my friend's draft and my thoughts later.
But enough about the gameplay, let's talk about what interests me about the game. I know that some people weren't a fan of the setting, and the various elements it tries to combine. I like it, personally; it could have done with more fleshing out in the game, but I appreciate the effort to make something a little more unique and memorable. I did find it difficult to describe to my friends when I talked about Dishonored, finally settling on phrases like "dark steampunk" or "facist steampunk." Dishonored does a good job of creating an overall feeling of despair as a city dies, but it could have done with more random people trying their best to survive.
But while the setting of Dishonored is, to a certain extent, unique, the rest of the game is not. This is not, you understand, necessarily a bad thing. In marketing and product design, there's an idea called the twenty percent rule. Well, there are a lot of "twenty percent rules" in just about everything, but this particular one concerns change. People, as a general rule, aren't comfortable with big, sweeping changes. So when you design things, it's probably a bad idea to create huge changes, instead settling on changing one thing.
But the plot is what you expect from a game where your Empress (and, presumably, lover) dies in the introduction: a Roaring Rampage of Revenge. It's fairly paint-by-the-numbers, as you eliminate the support network of the bad guy before tracking him down for retribution. There's a plot twist in there, that I'm pretty sure that anyone who has ever played a video game before, ever, would have seen coming. In just one game, just one, I wish the protagonist would spot the obvious and think of a way to turn it to his advantage, instead of just blundering into it like a moron.
Character-wise, the protagonist is basically a blank killing machine who doesn't even have a real voice...doesn't anyone remember that was one of the real draws of the ME franchise? An RPG protagonist with solid voice-acting? There is one nice touch, though; he always takes off his scary mask before talking to a certain character that he cares about. I would like to add, however, that this scary clockwork mask does essentially NOTHING, and probably weighs way too much...ever heard of a ski mask?
So yeah, Dishonored is pretty fun, although it does amuse me that in stealth games I prefer to play like a bloodthirsty maniac. Even in Thief (the first one). I'll be posting some more of my friend's draft and my thoughts later.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Order of the Skull, Third Time's the Charm
Today I'm going to be writing about my friend's book once again, part three. I'm also in a bit of a hurry, since tonight I'm heading over to Columbia to catch the amazing Lindsey Stirling in concert. This doesn't have anything to do with writing, I'm basically just bragging.
The Chapter opens with the heroes escaping from the crashed airship. The scene is confusing as hell, although I'm not sure if it's supposed to be confusing, or if it's confusing by accident. But evidently the protagonists crashed all of ten feet from their getaway car. Another I'm noticing from this scene is Tabor often describes things his characters seem to have little way to actually perceive.
A chase scene ensues, this time with cars. There's a cute moment when Carson just doesn't seem to realize how good Hawkins is with a gun. More shit goes wrong during the chase, including Calloway leaping up screaming about something. Evidently he's gone crazy. After they're done with that, we get a short scene in a town in Missouri that reveals some more of Hawkin's past, but serves little other purpose. And then the characters go through Saint Louis, which interests me if only because I happen to live there. :)
They somehow manage to find the guy they're looking for in Saint Louis, which seems...difficult. I suspect that Tabor skipped past the information gathering scene because he wasn't quite sure how the protagonists would succeed. Hey, I'm guilty of that as well, but it does amuse me. :)
The interrogation scene reveals the bad guy's name, Eigenstolf. That name is fantastic. Then the scene takes a turn that surprises the hell out of me, which is a good thing. Well done Tabor.
One thing I've noted is that Tabor likes to end his chapters with big splashes, explosions, or what-have-you. At least, this is what he does when he's writing his pulp novel, his conventional style might read differently. But when it comes to reading habits, I rarely stop at chapters, so any kind of cliffhanger is going to ineffective. Instead, I prefer to end my chapters with the close of a scene, to provide some kind of closure, then use the white space and bold text of the next chapter to provide some kind of transition to a different scene.
The Chapter opens with the heroes escaping from the crashed airship. The scene is confusing as hell, although I'm not sure if it's supposed to be confusing, or if it's confusing by accident. But evidently the protagonists crashed all of ten feet from their getaway car. Another I'm noticing from this scene is Tabor often describes things his characters seem to have little way to actually perceive.
A chase scene ensues, this time with cars. There's a cute moment when Carson just doesn't seem to realize how good Hawkins is with a gun. More shit goes wrong during the chase, including Calloway leaping up screaming about something. Evidently he's gone crazy. After they're done with that, we get a short scene in a town in Missouri that reveals some more of Hawkin's past, but serves little other purpose. And then the characters go through Saint Louis, which interests me if only because I happen to live there. :)
They somehow manage to find the guy they're looking for in Saint Louis, which seems...difficult. I suspect that Tabor skipped past the information gathering scene because he wasn't quite sure how the protagonists would succeed. Hey, I'm guilty of that as well, but it does amuse me. :)
The interrogation scene reveals the bad guy's name, Eigenstolf. That name is fantastic. Then the scene takes a turn that surprises the hell out of me, which is a good thing. Well done Tabor.
One thing I've noted is that Tabor likes to end his chapters with big splashes, explosions, or what-have-you. At least, this is what he does when he's writing his pulp novel, his conventional style might read differently. But when it comes to reading habits, I rarely stop at chapters, so any kind of cliffhanger is going to ineffective. Instead, I prefer to end my chapters with the close of a scene, to provide some kind of closure, then use the white space and bold text of the next chapter to provide some kind of transition to a different scene.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Order of the Skull, Part Two
Now I'm going to be writing about the second part of my friend's new book, while I try to get the awful taste of the movie Lost Continent out of my brain.
So Chapter Two begins with the characters in the car, and Emily Carson is quickly established as being friendly, and far more 'manly' than Dirk Calloway. Carson also manages to quickly develop a rapport with the other characters, rather unrealistically in my mind. Hawk and Calloway have the excuse of having been in a dangerous situation together, which tends to advance relationships faster than more mundane activities. The most dangerous situation the three of them were in was pushing a car out of mud, which seemed kind of pointless in my mind.
In their quest for the vast hordes of cash that Native Americans undoubtedly possess pre-casinos, Hawk and the rest meet the medicine man. I'm sorry, I want to write nice things about this book, but I winced reading this scene. Granted, I'm not sure how much Tabor wants to intentionally use tired pulp cliches, but during this scene we're treated to annoyingly obscure mysticism and some noble savage stereotypes. Then, after some peyote induced hallucinations, the characters are shaken to their core, and compelled to stop the bad guys seen in their little vision. It's not even a real vision quest.
I'm sorry, but this feels weak as hell to me. I can only hope that the three protagonists were somehow hypnotized into it, since it seems that most video games manage to give their characters better motivations than this. :(
Fortunately, after the embarrassing moment where all the characters jump full speed onto the plot train, it gets better. There are a few more moments of characterization, hints that people might be deeper than they appear, and a few nice moments of wit. They indulge in a bit of grave-robbing, always a fun activity, then another furious fight breaks out, this one with more purpose than gratuitous word violence.
Finally, the chapter ends in a daring escape on a hot air balloon, against assailants that are probably the undead. Interesting. And we begin to see more of the signs between the Ivy League soldiers that dug up Geronimo and the Ivy League veteran that's hanging around with the other two protagonists. The book is starting to get a little crazy, and I'm liking it more and more, but the whole "Indian meeting/vision quest/important mission to stop evil guy in mask" felt weak as hell.
I do question whether or not a shovel to the head would be fatal in genre, though. :) Although the author also has a hydrogen-filled hot air balloon explode for no other reason than it's cool.
And here's an excerpt from the action scene at the end of the chapter.
Hawkins suddenly saw three men converge on their position with uncanny speed. They
were being taken by the wind fairly quickly, and well on their way to clearing the perimeter
fence, but the three men were able to get to the rope with no trouble at all. One of them grabbed
on, and the balloon sank a little. He quickly began to climb up the rope at a rate that Calloway
could in no way compete with. Calloway struggled up the rope, the man quickly gaining on him.
Rung by rung he climbed until Hawkins could almost reach out his hand and touch his
outstretched arm. Before he could make the final step for Hawkins to grab him and pull him into
the basket, however, the bearded man who Calloway had minutes before smashed in the face
with the iron spade of a shovel grabbed at his ankle. Calloway somehow held on with his arms,
freeing his leg to kick the bearded man in the face multiple times.
The man ignored this, and continued to hang on. Emily turned to Hawkins, “hold me
over the edge,” she said urgently. She picked up the shovel they had stuffed in the basket earlier.
“What?” Hawkins asked.
“You’re too heavy for me to hold you. Just do it!” Hawkins complied, grabbing her by
the waist and holding her over the edge of the basket. She held out the shovel, swinging it
awkwardly but forcefully at the bearded soldier hanging onto Calloway below. Hawkins heard
the repeated thud of metal on bone, and the man grunted while suffering the blows. The balloon
basket tilted and teetered in the wind, and both the rope and the people attached oscillated along
with it, causing Hawkins to almost lose hold of Emily. She screamed, grabbing hold of the
basket while dropping the shovel to the ground. Calloway was finally able to break free and grab
a hold of the basket while the man below secured his handle on the rope.
Hawkins yanked Emily back inside the basket and reached out to grab Calloway.
Unfortunately for him, the bearded soldier took hold of his ankle again at the second time,
causing a tug o’ war between the man and Hawkins for Calloway’s torso. Holding onto
Hawkin’s grasp, he flailed his legs about in an attempt to throw the man off. Suddenly the man
bellowed, “Dirk Calloway, Charak-teres, Eko Eko Azerak, Charak-teres.” His skin began to
glow slightly, turning reddish as if a light had been ignited inside his skin. This glow gradually
left his body and seeped into Calloway’s through his exposed ankle. Dirk then went limp,
making it that much more difficult for Hawkins to hold on, but he was able to manage. The
bearded man then dropped his grip and fell to the ground, rolling as he hit.
So Chapter Two begins with the characters in the car, and Emily Carson is quickly established as being friendly, and far more 'manly' than Dirk Calloway. Carson also manages to quickly develop a rapport with the other characters, rather unrealistically in my mind. Hawk and Calloway have the excuse of having been in a dangerous situation together, which tends to advance relationships faster than more mundane activities. The most dangerous situation the three of them were in was pushing a car out of mud, which seemed kind of pointless in my mind.
In their quest for the vast hordes of cash that Native Americans undoubtedly possess pre-casinos, Hawk and the rest meet the medicine man. I'm sorry, I want to write nice things about this book, but I winced reading this scene. Granted, I'm not sure how much Tabor wants to intentionally use tired pulp cliches, but during this scene we're treated to annoyingly obscure mysticism and some noble savage stereotypes. Then, after some peyote induced hallucinations, the characters are shaken to their core, and compelled to stop the bad guys seen in their little vision. It's not even a real vision quest.
I'm sorry, but this feels weak as hell to me. I can only hope that the three protagonists were somehow hypnotized into it, since it seems that most video games manage to give their characters better motivations than this. :(
Fortunately, after the embarrassing moment where all the characters jump full speed onto the plot train, it gets better. There are a few more moments of characterization, hints that people might be deeper than they appear, and a few nice moments of wit. They indulge in a bit of grave-robbing, always a fun activity, then another furious fight breaks out, this one with more purpose than gratuitous word violence.
Finally, the chapter ends in a daring escape on a hot air balloon, against assailants that are probably the undead. Interesting. And we begin to see more of the signs between the Ivy League soldiers that dug up Geronimo and the Ivy League veteran that's hanging around with the other two protagonists. The book is starting to get a little crazy, and I'm liking it more and more, but the whole "Indian meeting/vision quest/important mission to stop evil guy in mask" felt weak as hell.
I do question whether or not a shovel to the head would be fatal in genre, though. :) Although the author also has a hydrogen-filled hot air balloon explode for no other reason than it's cool.
And here's an excerpt from the action scene at the end of the chapter.
Hawkins suddenly saw three men converge on their position with uncanny speed. They
were being taken by the wind fairly quickly, and well on their way to clearing the perimeter
fence, but the three men were able to get to the rope with no trouble at all. One of them grabbed
on, and the balloon sank a little. He quickly began to climb up the rope at a rate that Calloway
could in no way compete with. Calloway struggled up the rope, the man quickly gaining on him.
Rung by rung he climbed until Hawkins could almost reach out his hand and touch his
outstretched arm. Before he could make the final step for Hawkins to grab him and pull him into
the basket, however, the bearded man who Calloway had minutes before smashed in the face
with the iron spade of a shovel grabbed at his ankle. Calloway somehow held on with his arms,
freeing his leg to kick the bearded man in the face multiple times.
The man ignored this, and continued to hang on. Emily turned to Hawkins, “hold me
over the edge,” she said urgently. She picked up the shovel they had stuffed in the basket earlier.
“What?” Hawkins asked.
“You’re too heavy for me to hold you. Just do it!” Hawkins complied, grabbing her by
the waist and holding her over the edge of the basket. She held out the shovel, swinging it
awkwardly but forcefully at the bearded soldier hanging onto Calloway below. Hawkins heard
the repeated thud of metal on bone, and the man grunted while suffering the blows. The balloon
basket tilted and teetered in the wind, and both the rope and the people attached oscillated along
with it, causing Hawkins to almost lose hold of Emily. She screamed, grabbing hold of the
basket while dropping the shovel to the ground. Calloway was finally able to break free and grab
a hold of the basket while the man below secured his handle on the rope.
Hawkins yanked Emily back inside the basket and reached out to grab Calloway.
Unfortunately for him, the bearded soldier took hold of his ankle again at the second time,
causing a tug o’ war between the man and Hawkins for Calloway’s torso. Holding onto
Hawkin’s grasp, he flailed his legs about in an attempt to throw the man off. Suddenly the man
bellowed, “Dirk Calloway, Charak-teres, Eko Eko Azerak, Charak-teres.” His skin began to
glow slightly, turning reddish as if a light had been ignited inside his skin. This glow gradually
left his body and seeped into Calloway’s through his exposed ankle. Dirk then went limp,
making it that much more difficult for Hawkins to hold on, but he was able to manage. The
bearded man then dropped his grip and fell to the ground, rolling as he hit.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Bonus Post: The Game is Afoot
I love Sherlock Holmes; he's the greatest detective of fiction. Poirot is also good, of course, but Holmes is more universal; Poirot's firmly ensconced in the Whodunnit subgenre. Plus, you know, Holmes always gets actual evidence; Poirot guesses where the police can find the evidence. Death on the Nile, though, is my favorite mystery novel in general, since it was the one Agatha Christie book where I didn't figure out who the killer was.
I've read all the stories, of course; I once listened to a story about an old, married Sherlock Holmes by some other author. It was awful, but that's what happens when you rent audio books from Cracker Barrel. And I've seen a few TV shows. Both Sherlock and the Jeremy Brett series. And now I've watched the pilot episode of the modern Holmes story set in America, Elementary.
Comparisons to BBC's series Sherlock are inevitable, and unfortunate. Sherlock, when it was firing on all cylinders (Season 1, Ep 1 and Ep 3) was fantastic. Other times, it was kind of suck, especially Season 1, Ep 2. Season 2 was uneven in the episodes as well...I mean, Irene Adler as a sex worker? Sherlock threatening to beat up a guy, when his enemy is packing a gun and Sherlock isn't? Good luck with that, Sherlock.
To put it simply, Elementary does not compare with Sherlock when it's really good. Even when Sherlock wasn't good, Elementary doesn't compare that well since it's so...safe. Paint by the numbers. Almost stale, in the first episode. The mystery doesn't require that much unraveling; it's almost a police procedural. Ugh. That was (one of) the problems with Castle; too much procedure, not enough mystery. Why not watch a Law and Order, then? There's ALWAYS an episode of that on some network.
I've heard that there was some criticism of Lucy Liu as Watson. Nonsense. She's fine. Her backstory is a little different, a failed surgeon forced out of the profession to become an addict's babysitter. From what we've seen, no military background, which is kind of disappointing. And it makes her character more of a 'loser,' which has its ups and downs. You'd think that a doctor, especially a young one, would be way too busy doing doctor stuff to tag along with Holmes (the old ones certainly could, if they were willing to give up their golf games).
Watson in this show certainly calls Holmes on more of his crap...which might be the real problem with the show, I think. The versions of Watson and Holmes in Elementary don't have a lot of chemistry. They aren't buddies, they aren't friends. There's some respect there, but it's just not a fun or interesting dynamic between the two. I hate to do this, but when I compare it to Sherlock I immediately enjoyed the two's relationship. And Sherlock NEEDS Watson, to create a real connection with the other human beings in the world.
I also wonder if Elementary is going to try to create some kind of romantic attraction between the two, which would be terrible.
I don't know where the popular conception of Watson as the buffoon comes from, but it's certainly good that all modern versions of Sherlock Holmes avoid it. Not only is that not a very interesting character, it's not true to the books at all. Sure, Watson is an idiot compared to Holmes, but who the hell isn't? Maybe it comes from the old Rathbone version, I'm not sure.
But I'm going to keep watching the show, for now. At least until Community comes back on. The execution failed somewhat, sure, but I do love Sherlock Holmes. Maybe it will take a few episodes for the show to hit its stride. Or maybe they'll continue making boring mystery procedurals, a will-they-won't-they romantic tension between the two investigators, and run for five seasons like so many other average shows.
I've read all the stories, of course; I once listened to a story about an old, married Sherlock Holmes by some other author. It was awful, but that's what happens when you rent audio books from Cracker Barrel. And I've seen a few TV shows. Both Sherlock and the Jeremy Brett series. And now I've watched the pilot episode of the modern Holmes story set in America, Elementary.
Comparisons to BBC's series Sherlock are inevitable, and unfortunate. Sherlock, when it was firing on all cylinders (Season 1, Ep 1 and Ep 3) was fantastic. Other times, it was kind of suck, especially Season 1, Ep 2. Season 2 was uneven in the episodes as well...I mean, Irene Adler as a sex worker? Sherlock threatening to beat up a guy, when his enemy is packing a gun and Sherlock isn't? Good luck with that, Sherlock.
To put it simply, Elementary does not compare with Sherlock when it's really good. Even when Sherlock wasn't good, Elementary doesn't compare that well since it's so...safe. Paint by the numbers. Almost stale, in the first episode. The mystery doesn't require that much unraveling; it's almost a police procedural. Ugh. That was (one of) the problems with Castle; too much procedure, not enough mystery. Why not watch a Law and Order, then? There's ALWAYS an episode of that on some network.
I've heard that there was some criticism of Lucy Liu as Watson. Nonsense. She's fine. Her backstory is a little different, a failed surgeon forced out of the profession to become an addict's babysitter. From what we've seen, no military background, which is kind of disappointing. And it makes her character more of a 'loser,' which has its ups and downs. You'd think that a doctor, especially a young one, would be way too busy doing doctor stuff to tag along with Holmes (the old ones certainly could, if they were willing to give up their golf games).
Watson in this show certainly calls Holmes on more of his crap...which might be the real problem with the show, I think. The versions of Watson and Holmes in Elementary don't have a lot of chemistry. They aren't buddies, they aren't friends. There's some respect there, but it's just not a fun or interesting dynamic between the two. I hate to do this, but when I compare it to Sherlock I immediately enjoyed the two's relationship. And Sherlock NEEDS Watson, to create a real connection with the other human beings in the world.
I also wonder if Elementary is going to try to create some kind of romantic attraction between the two, which would be terrible.
I don't know where the popular conception of Watson as the buffoon comes from, but it's certainly good that all modern versions of Sherlock Holmes avoid it. Not only is that not a very interesting character, it's not true to the books at all. Sure, Watson is an idiot compared to Holmes, but who the hell isn't? Maybe it comes from the old Rathbone version, I'm not sure.
But I'm going to keep watching the show, for now. At least until Community comes back on. The execution failed somewhat, sure, but I do love Sherlock Holmes. Maybe it will take a few episodes for the show to hit its stride. Or maybe they'll continue making boring mystery procedurals, a will-they-won't-they romantic tension between the two investigators, and run for five seasons like so many other average shows.
Whoops
My friend told me this was a finished first draft, not a final one. I had thought it was nearing completion, but evidently this was not the case.
Order of the Skull, Part One
I've now received a copy of my friend's latest (second) novel, Order of the Skull, by J.E. Tabor. It's test name was Skull and Bones, but he changed it after secret societies started sending him threatening letters. :) He started work in January, and this represents a near final draft of the novel, I think, although he has mentioned that there are a few things he wants to change, particularly the ending.
The book was described to me as a pulp novel, although I know my friend and he's cynical as hell, like me. So I figure it's going to be more Indiana Jones and less Man of Bronze. I'm going to be reading through it chapter by chapter, giving my thoughts. Hopefully talking about something a friend wrote will make me less relentlessly negative. We'll see. :) If you want a copy of the book, drop a comment with your address and I'll send you the PDF.
The opening starts in a poker game in Texas. I'll cut and paste the first few paragraphs, so you can see my friend's writing style.
"Success was in the cards for Hawkins; he felt it. As an Indian, it was easy for him to
hustle white men by ordering a few drinks, slurring his speech, and acting a little boisterous.
They all had read accounts of how Indians could not handle their firewater, and never questioned
it when their preconceptions were confirmed. That would mean another month of rent and food
for Hawkins tonight. He had considered dressing up in his old costume from his showbiz days a
few times just to complete the façade, but he retained some sense of pride yet. He had settled for
his button-down shirt, denim slacks, and boots, and used his chestnut Stetson hat to hide his eyes
as he pulled his cards.
It was just as well, as the joker across the table from him, Calloway, bought his ruse
hook, line, and sinker, even without the whole savage get-up. The baby faced, clean cut red
headed man smiled at him and ordered another round for the two of them. “Whiskey?” He
asked.
Hawkins Nodded. “Thanks… Friend…” he slurred. Calloway put up two fingers, and
the waiter quickly emerged from the far end of the smoky saloon and brought two small glasses
filled with some of the most awful moonshine whiskey known to man, setting them gingerly on
the round poker table. Hawkins picked up the glass, eyeing it momentarily for effect before
downing the awful stuff. He was met with a vigorous protest from his burning esophagus. He
supposed the abuse of the rock bottom quality liquor was worth paying his many expenses. He
was careful to hide any sign of satisfaction from watching Calloway tear up matching him drink
for drink."
As it turns out, a bar fight erupts rather quickly, Calloway and Hawkins find themselves defending each other, sort of, and then end up getting thrown out of the bar. A nice touch occurs when Hawkins demonstrates his prowess by shooting the knives out of three people's hands. Obviously incredibly unrealistic, but it's a very good demonstration as to what kind of story Order of the Skull is going to be.
A very expository scene unfolds where each of them explains their life story, then a scheme is concocted that sends them up to Oklahoma to get some money. Then another fight ensues, and both Calloway and Hawkins get 'rescued' by a woman acquaintance of Calloway's.
“It was nice meeting you boys,” the woman said. “Maybe we will see you around
sometime.” She gunned the engine of the car, speeding off after spraying a good amount of mud
onto the two bat-wielding thugs. As their attackers receded into the distance, the woman pulled
out a cigarette and matches. “It looked like you were in a bit of a bind back there.” She put the
8
cigarette in her mouth and gave the matches to Calloway. He lit the match and ignited her
cigarette.
“We would have been fine. We have been in fights before. You think maybe you should
watch the road?” He asked.
She laughed. “Oh please. You were going to get your heads knocked off, and there is no
one driving around here for miles, which makes it all the luckier for you that I happened to pass
by.”
“Do you know each other?” Hawkins asked. He was still fidgeting from being pressed
between Calloway and the car door.
“Met this one on the train down to pick up my baby in Dallas,” she said, patting the dash
of the automobile. “He tried to make a pass at me and ended up with a fat lip. It seems like he
gets the same reaction from men. He was lucky I didn’t have a baseball bat.” Hawkins
snickered at that.
“Ha, very funny. I can’t help it that no one around here seems to have a sense of humor
about anything.” The woman stuck the cigarette in her mouth and reached over to offer Hawkins
her hand. “Emily Carson,” she introduced herself. He took her hand, amused. “Hawkins.”
“Well Hawkins,” she asked. “Where are you headed?”
And that's where Chapter One ends. Personally, I think that the ending to that chapter is rather bad, actually, finishing with a conversational question. Overall, there might a little too much gratuitous action for a book, and not enough description of the environment. To be honest, I don't really know what a small Texan town would look like in 1919; I keep imagining something from the Wild West. :)
Still, I'm curious as to what the duo (now probably trio) will find in Oklahoma, so that's a good sign. Hawkins is likeable enough, and clearly has some kind of interesting past that he didn't want to talk about. As far as Calloway goes, I hate anyone who cheats in poker, and I'm fairly certain that he's not as rich as everyone thinks. I also asked my friend if he was named after the golf clubs, but he insisted it was a Third Man reference.
The book was described to me as a pulp novel, although I know my friend and he's cynical as hell, like me. So I figure it's going to be more Indiana Jones and less Man of Bronze. I'm going to be reading through it chapter by chapter, giving my thoughts. Hopefully talking about something a friend wrote will make me less relentlessly negative. We'll see. :) If you want a copy of the book, drop a comment with your address and I'll send you the PDF.
The opening starts in a poker game in Texas. I'll cut and paste the first few paragraphs, so you can see my friend's writing style.
"Success was in the cards for Hawkins; he felt it. As an Indian, it was easy for him to
hustle white men by ordering a few drinks, slurring his speech, and acting a little boisterous.
They all had read accounts of how Indians could not handle their firewater, and never questioned
it when their preconceptions were confirmed. That would mean another month of rent and food
for Hawkins tonight. He had considered dressing up in his old costume from his showbiz days a
few times just to complete the façade, but he retained some sense of pride yet. He had settled for
his button-down shirt, denim slacks, and boots, and used his chestnut Stetson hat to hide his eyes
as he pulled his cards.
It was just as well, as the joker across the table from him, Calloway, bought his ruse
hook, line, and sinker, even without the whole savage get-up. The baby faced, clean cut red
headed man smiled at him and ordered another round for the two of them. “Whiskey?” He
asked.
Hawkins Nodded. “Thanks… Friend…” he slurred. Calloway put up two fingers, and
the waiter quickly emerged from the far end of the smoky saloon and brought two small glasses
filled with some of the most awful moonshine whiskey known to man, setting them gingerly on
the round poker table. Hawkins picked up the glass, eyeing it momentarily for effect before
downing the awful stuff. He was met with a vigorous protest from his burning esophagus. He
supposed the abuse of the rock bottom quality liquor was worth paying his many expenses. He
was careful to hide any sign of satisfaction from watching Calloway tear up matching him drink
for drink."
As it turns out, a bar fight erupts rather quickly, Calloway and Hawkins find themselves defending each other, sort of, and then end up getting thrown out of the bar. A nice touch occurs when Hawkins demonstrates his prowess by shooting the knives out of three people's hands. Obviously incredibly unrealistic, but it's a very good demonstration as to what kind of story Order of the Skull is going to be.
A very expository scene unfolds where each of them explains their life story, then a scheme is concocted that sends them up to Oklahoma to get some money. Then another fight ensues, and both Calloway and Hawkins get 'rescued' by a woman acquaintance of Calloway's.
“It was nice meeting you boys,” the woman said. “Maybe we will see you around
sometime.” She gunned the engine of the car, speeding off after spraying a good amount of mud
onto the two bat-wielding thugs. As their attackers receded into the distance, the woman pulled
out a cigarette and matches. “It looked like you were in a bit of a bind back there.” She put the
8
cigarette in her mouth and gave the matches to Calloway. He lit the match and ignited her
cigarette.
“We would have been fine. We have been in fights before. You think maybe you should
watch the road?” He asked.
She laughed. “Oh please. You were going to get your heads knocked off, and there is no
one driving around here for miles, which makes it all the luckier for you that I happened to pass
by.”
“Do you know each other?” Hawkins asked. He was still fidgeting from being pressed
between Calloway and the car door.
“Met this one on the train down to pick up my baby in Dallas,” she said, patting the dash
of the automobile. “He tried to make a pass at me and ended up with a fat lip. It seems like he
gets the same reaction from men. He was lucky I didn’t have a baseball bat.” Hawkins
snickered at that.
“Ha, very funny. I can’t help it that no one around here seems to have a sense of humor
about anything.” The woman stuck the cigarette in her mouth and reached over to offer Hawkins
her hand. “Emily Carson,” she introduced herself. He took her hand, amused. “Hawkins.”
“Well Hawkins,” she asked. “Where are you headed?”
And that's where Chapter One ends. Personally, I think that the ending to that chapter is rather bad, actually, finishing with a conversational question. Overall, there might a little too much gratuitous action for a book, and not enough description of the environment. To be honest, I don't really know what a small Texan town would look like in 1919; I keep imagining something from the Wild West. :)
Still, I'm curious as to what the duo (now probably trio) will find in Oklahoma, so that's a good sign. Hawkins is likeable enough, and clearly has some kind of interesting past that he didn't want to talk about. As far as Calloway goes, I hate anyone who cheats in poker, and I'm fairly certain that he's not as rich as everyone thinks. I also asked my friend if he was named after the golf clubs, but he insisted it was a Third Man reference.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Classism in Fantasy
Let me preface this blog post by saying that I'm not a socialist. Unlike one of my friends, I should add, who claims that watching Downton Abbey turned him into one. I don't lay awake at night worrying that some people have more than others. But I have come to realize that genre stories, especially fantasy ones, are incredibly classist, dominated by the economic and social elite. To a ridiculous degree. Quite frankly, I don't think readers would put up with it in any other genre.
In general, novels are a little classist; there are a lot more novels about lawyers than construction workers. And more novels about doctors than nurses or EMTs. I think this has something to do with the popular impression that higher paying jobs are more interesting, and have more potential to create better stories. Also, more money does not mean more problems (seriously, if you think that, I'd be happy to take over some of these potential problems for you), but it does mean more leisure time. And more leisure time means more opportunity for ...whatever.
But fantasy takes it to an extreme. Characters are almost always part of the hereditary aristocracy. Take a look at one of the classics, Lord of the Rings. Even among the humble, simple hobbits, three out of four of them are members of the aristocracy; only one of them actually seems to, you know, work for a living. And Samwise's place is as the servant, the lackey, the loyal follower who never abandons his master. At one point, IIRC, he's described as dog-like, and it's intended as a compliment. Seriously?
Granted, the Jackson movies do a much better job of recognizing Sam; by the time of RotK, it's clear to the audience that Sam is the Big Damn Hero. And the fact that Sam happens to work for Frodo is just glossed over; their relationship is defined by their friendship, not master/servant. And still, the name of the movie is called Return of the King; Aragorn is still the one who merits mention in the title. Why not Samwise Versus Mordor? :)
Now, it's true that Lord of the Rings was written years and years ago. I would point out, however, that when it was written the British aristocracy had already passed into uselessness. What about more modern stories? Bujold, Brust, Jordan, Martin, Sanderson, Keyes, Feist, and Butcher, just to name a few: all dominated by the aristocracy. Even when a character seems to come from humble origins, chances are pretty good they have some hereditary link to the powers that be (like Rothfuss). Even if not, the nobility of the world will probably find some way co-opt these people into joining their ranks.* And even then, their defining characteristic will be their humble origins.
The few, the elite, the rich, the powerful. Why are these guys so vastly overrepresented in fantasy? I say guys, but if anything, women characters in fantasy are much more likely to be nobility or royalty than anything else (except a victim). Part of it, I think might be that the knights, kings, and queens are exotic; it's not like we have any of that stuff in modern society. Part of it is baggage from history. I can't figure out the rest.
Books, written today, are typically judged with modern morality, even if they take place far in the past, far in the future, or in some alternate fantasy world. I'm not decrying this practice, of course; we need to like the protagonists. But fantasy characters are judged by our standards Except when it comes to the nobility. The hereditary aristocracy controls the lives of countless people, gets rich off their sweat because they inherited the land, and will typically send soldiers and conscripts off to die in wars for the most pointless of reasons.
I probably don't need to make this argument, but think of the various minor wars in Wheel of Time, or the big war in Song of Ice and Fire. I don't think any of the common people's lives are going to be different if Duke X wins, instead of Prince Y. It's all about concepts like 'honor.' And for whatever reason, readers are basically fine with the conceits of main characters who think that because of who their fathers were, they're better and more important than everyone else. Crazy.
To me, the default assumption would be that any kind of hereditary aristocracy that enjoys special treatment, rights, etc.would be the bad guys, people the protagonists would struggle against. In my fantasy novel, No More Kings, the argument is made that it's not there are tyrant kings, but that kings are, by definition, tyrants. That the behavior and assumptions necessary to enforce your will and stay in power are evil. Hell, look at the behavior of historical monarchs: Henry VIII wasn't willing to live by the rules of his own religion, so he created his own church, put himself at the top, and made whatever rules he wanted. Oh, and killed a friend of his who tried to stop him. That's not just villainous, it edges into over-the-top super-villainy. (I hope that by criticizing the behavior of political figures hundreds of years ago, I can avoid the annoyance and division of contemporary politics).
And it's not that you need to have the characters be nobility, either. Even in historical societies, the hereditary aristocracy weren't the only ones calling the shots or doing interesting things. Yet the fantasy genre continues to have its characters pigeonholed by this trope. That was actually my principal motivation (other than just wanting to finally write a fantasy novel) for creating No More Kings: to have a fantasy novel where none of the main characters were nobility; they didn't act like it, and they didn't want to be nobility. And then, they led a revolution against the monarchy, since the magic of the world acted as a sort of gunpowder that could equalize armed forces.
Damn, I think I've written books shorter than this. Well, I'm done. Maybe next time, I'll be breaking down my friend's book, which he's promised to email me by the end of today.
*At first, in Way of Kings, I had to give Kaladin heaps of credit for not joining with the nobility when he had the chance. It was kind of dumb, but true to his character. Then he agrees to work for one of them...is that really any better? Especially since good noble was more than willing to use the bad noble's tactics for his guys, as long as his hands weren't dirty? But hey, some of my ideological/philosophical problems with Sanderson should be another post. :)
In general, novels are a little classist; there are a lot more novels about lawyers than construction workers. And more novels about doctors than nurses or EMTs. I think this has something to do with the popular impression that higher paying jobs are more interesting, and have more potential to create better stories. Also, more money does not mean more problems (seriously, if you think that, I'd be happy to take over some of these potential problems for you), but it does mean more leisure time. And more leisure time means more opportunity for ...whatever.
But fantasy takes it to an extreme. Characters are almost always part of the hereditary aristocracy. Take a look at one of the classics, Lord of the Rings. Even among the humble, simple hobbits, three out of four of them are members of the aristocracy; only one of them actually seems to, you know, work for a living. And Samwise's place is as the servant, the lackey, the loyal follower who never abandons his master. At one point, IIRC, he's described as dog-like, and it's intended as a compliment. Seriously?
Granted, the Jackson movies do a much better job of recognizing Sam; by the time of RotK, it's clear to the audience that Sam is the Big Damn Hero. And the fact that Sam happens to work for Frodo is just glossed over; their relationship is defined by their friendship, not master/servant. And still, the name of the movie is called Return of the King; Aragorn is still the one who merits mention in the title. Why not Samwise Versus Mordor? :)
Now, it's true that Lord of the Rings was written years and years ago. I would point out, however, that when it was written the British aristocracy had already passed into uselessness. What about more modern stories? Bujold, Brust, Jordan, Martin, Sanderson, Keyes, Feist, and Butcher, just to name a few: all dominated by the aristocracy. Even when a character seems to come from humble origins, chances are pretty good they have some hereditary link to the powers that be (like Rothfuss). Even if not, the nobility of the world will probably find some way co-opt these people into joining their ranks.* And even then, their defining characteristic will be their humble origins.
The few, the elite, the rich, the powerful. Why are these guys so vastly overrepresented in fantasy? I say guys, but if anything, women characters in fantasy are much more likely to be nobility or royalty than anything else (except a victim). Part of it, I think might be that the knights, kings, and queens are exotic; it's not like we have any of that stuff in modern society. Part of it is baggage from history. I can't figure out the rest.
Books, written today, are typically judged with modern morality, even if they take place far in the past, far in the future, or in some alternate fantasy world. I'm not decrying this practice, of course; we need to like the protagonists. But fantasy characters are judged by our standards Except when it comes to the nobility. The hereditary aristocracy controls the lives of countless people, gets rich off their sweat because they inherited the land, and will typically send soldiers and conscripts off to die in wars for the most pointless of reasons.
I probably don't need to make this argument, but think of the various minor wars in Wheel of Time, or the big war in Song of Ice and Fire. I don't think any of the common people's lives are going to be different if Duke X wins, instead of Prince Y. It's all about concepts like 'honor.' And for whatever reason, readers are basically fine with the conceits of main characters who think that because of who their fathers were, they're better and more important than everyone else. Crazy.
To me, the default assumption would be that any kind of hereditary aristocracy that enjoys special treatment, rights, etc.would be the bad guys, people the protagonists would struggle against. In my fantasy novel, No More Kings, the argument is made that it's not there are tyrant kings, but that kings are, by definition, tyrants. That the behavior and assumptions necessary to enforce your will and stay in power are evil. Hell, look at the behavior of historical monarchs: Henry VIII wasn't willing to live by the rules of his own religion, so he created his own church, put himself at the top, and made whatever rules he wanted. Oh, and killed a friend of his who tried to stop him. That's not just villainous, it edges into over-the-top super-villainy. (I hope that by criticizing the behavior of political figures hundreds of years ago, I can avoid the annoyance and division of contemporary politics).
And it's not that you need to have the characters be nobility, either. Even in historical societies, the hereditary aristocracy weren't the only ones calling the shots or doing interesting things. Yet the fantasy genre continues to have its characters pigeonholed by this trope. That was actually my principal motivation (other than just wanting to finally write a fantasy novel) for creating No More Kings: to have a fantasy novel where none of the main characters were nobility; they didn't act like it, and they didn't want to be nobility. And then, they led a revolution against the monarchy, since the magic of the world acted as a sort of gunpowder that could equalize armed forces.
Damn, I think I've written books shorter than this. Well, I'm done. Maybe next time, I'll be breaking down my friend's book, which he's promised to email me by the end of today.
*At first, in Way of Kings, I had to give Kaladin heaps of credit for not joining with the nobility when he had the chance. It was kind of dumb, but true to his character. Then he agrees to work for one of them...is that really any better? Especially since good noble was more than willing to use the bad noble's tactics for his guys, as long as his hands weren't dirty? But hey, some of my ideological/philosophical problems with Sanderson should be another post. :)
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