To say a new TV show is going to be bad isn't exactly going out on a limb, I know. And it's not even fair. There's a lot of shows that didn't become really good until they hit their second season. And sometimes the first seasons and the pilots were just outright bad (if it wasn't for the assurance that it gets better, I doubt I would have stuck through the first one of Babylon Five); Seinfeld, probably the greatest sitcom of our time, had a terrible, terrible pilot. The butler episode of the fake Jerry was probably better. :)
So when I say I don't have high hopes about NBC's Revolution after seeing the pilot on Hulu, I realize this isn't exactly a revolutionary statement either. But honestly, I'm the kind of person who should like it, probably. I liked Lost. I liked Heroes (Season One). I like post-apoc stuff too; I actually own the DVDs to Mad Max and the Road Warrior, I've played all the Fallout RPGs. Ideally, I should like it.
And yet I don't. Post apocalyptic fiction always reflects the fears of the society (or perhaps more accurately, the writer) that created it. In a sense, Revolution is smarter than, say, Mad Max, which is about an energy crisis. The failure in Revolution is more systemic in that it turns off electricity (and advanced technology in general, it seems), assuming that human society can survive and adapt through one resource shortage, like gasoline. It also has a nice green environment, an aesthetic I prefer after the wastelands of most apocalyptic worlds.
But the little details of Revolution bug the hell out of me. I don't normally get hung up on the little stuff, but a world with half a dozen little errors in the first episode shows a lack of thoroughness in the world-building, I think. For example, the scene of power failure shows jet planes DROPPING out of the sky. Just straight dropping. If a plane experiences power failure, it doesn't just fall vertically downward like a stone; it still has wings, and velocity. Planes would crash, sure, but not immediately; why not film it correctly?
Then there's the issue of the weaponry. Don't get me wrong, I'm down with swords instead of guns, and on seeing the previews I had assumed that whatever Space Magic had turned off electricity and the internal combustion engine had also affected gunpowder. But no, people use guns. Clumsy black powder weaponry. Even though America has about as many guns as it does people. I don't think we'd need to resort to muzzle loaders that fast.
And the characters are pretty. Despite the lack of running water, characters are all clean, and have hair that has clearly seen conditioner recently. And the characters wear clothing that was obviously manufactured, yet also in very good condition. This complaint is fairly half-hearted, of course. :) And people on television are supposed to be good-looking, even in terrible situations (like Lost).
Finally, there's the issue with the environment. Everything is way too overgrown. And sometimes, nonsensically, things are underwater as well. For whatever reason, no one uses our nation's highways as a pedestrian road, even though that would make logical sense; it's as if pavement itself has disappeared. But maybe the 'nature gone wild' thing is some kind of plot point. But when you throw out stuff that doesn't make sense, you need to have audience buy-in that the stuff you do will eventually be explained, instead of these plot points just being dumb.
But this is all little stuff, stuff that's fun to critique, but something I could easily ignore if the show was good. The pacing was bad (but pacing is more a matter of opinion than anything else). And the characterization ranges from flat to non-existent. With some of the main characters, I could perhaps assign them a single character trait to describe them, after watching them run around for forty minutes. One. With others, I'm not sure I could describe their personalities at all. Granted, the show does need to waste time on setting development, but you would expect more than that.
I might watch the next episode to see if it improves; if not, it will take some serious opinions on the internet about how good the show is to change my mind. I gave Jericho more time to get better, but that was back in college, I think. (My friend told me that eventually that show became good, but it was too little, too late). But this season's new genre shows do not look especially promising.
Next post on Wednesday: My Thoughts on the post-apocalyptic genre in general, I think.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
The Problem With Marriage
No, this isn't about any problem I have with the institution of marriage in real life, of course. Now, to quote the comedian Jerry Seinfeld, I am amazed that it happens so often, but I like the idea of it. And the Best Man speech I gave was pretty amazing, I have to say. There are also a few reasons I dislike marriage, such as the belief that being married makes you some kind of relationship expert (I think we've all known a few people under that delusion). And there's the related matter of kids, since having children makes otherwise interesting, engaging people into the most boring dullards imaginable (they end up thinking their own kids are the most interesting topic of conversation for all time).
But no, I'm referring to the institution of marriage within a larger fictional work. Whenever characters get married in a work of fiction, it will typically kill the story. Sitcoms are the biggest example of this concept, if you can call them actual stories (not good ones, certainly). To most writers, the 'will they, won't they' romantic tension between any two characters who could conceivably end up together drives most romantic plots or subplots. Then, when characters get married, that tension goes away. They will. In fact, they did. The relationship is over
But the problem is that relationships don't end with marriage. If anything, the day to day stresses amongst married people are higher. Married people can afford to really fight without holding much back, since there's that contractual obligation to stay with each other. So if you're looking for conflict (and let's face it, what writer isn't?), it doesn't need to stop because they exchanged some vows.
Worse, other stories, the ones that don't depend on what-if romantic tension, also end whenever someone gets married. Because the marriage allows the characters to live happily ever after or something. In fiction, marriage carries the stink of respectability and responsibility. And often, responsible fictional characters are boring fictional characters. But real life tells us that a wife (or husband) and kids don't stop people from doing all the stupid and interesting things that make a good story.
Marriage in fiction needs a good marketing campaign to improve its image. Sometimes characters start married and their stories are fine (divorced is also a good compromise for older protagonists, usually women - I don't know why, maybe it's a demographic thing), but characters whenever characters end up getting married it typically indicates that the stories are going downhill (even Vorkosigan, mentioned in an earlier post, suffers from this).
My own work tries to avoid some of this. In my fantasy series, I used the event of one of the characters getting married to show how up he's changed, and also to reveal just how much he didn't. He continues to be selfish and violent, but it is tempered somewhat; to be fair, it could also just be the fact that he's five years older from his last encounter with the viewpoint character as well. But being married hasn't really stopped the character from being interesting; it even motivates him, and not in the stupid "loved ones in danger" trope either. He now has more of a stake in the future of the world, so he ends up being a little more proactive in changing it.
And as a side benefit, his wife ended up as a far more interesting character than I initially thought, enough that I wrote a short story starring her after she sold her soul to the devil (and her attempt to reclaim it). She also isn't one of those people who claims to love someone, but then hates everything about what they do, or separates them from every other person in the world. She knows that she's probably going to outlive her husband, but she'd much rather have him die young than live as a shadow of himself.
Now, one of the other problems I have with fictional marriage is that everyone in fiction seems to marry either their high school sweetheart (or the girl they wished was their high school sweetheart). It's a fact: teenagers are idiots. I don't know the exact stats, but I can guess that most people move beyond the boy or girl they dated in high school.
But no, I'm referring to the institution of marriage within a larger fictional work. Whenever characters get married in a work of fiction, it will typically kill the story. Sitcoms are the biggest example of this concept, if you can call them actual stories (not good ones, certainly). To most writers, the 'will they, won't they' romantic tension between any two characters who could conceivably end up together drives most romantic plots or subplots. Then, when characters get married, that tension goes away. They will. In fact, they did. The relationship is over
But the problem is that relationships don't end with marriage. If anything, the day to day stresses amongst married people are higher. Married people can afford to really fight without holding much back, since there's that contractual obligation to stay with each other. So if you're looking for conflict (and let's face it, what writer isn't?), it doesn't need to stop because they exchanged some vows.
Worse, other stories, the ones that don't depend on what-if romantic tension, also end whenever someone gets married. Because the marriage allows the characters to live happily ever after or something. In fiction, marriage carries the stink of respectability and responsibility. And often, responsible fictional characters are boring fictional characters. But real life tells us that a wife (or husband) and kids don't stop people from doing all the stupid and interesting things that make a good story.
Marriage in fiction needs a good marketing campaign to improve its image. Sometimes characters start married and their stories are fine (divorced is also a good compromise for older protagonists, usually women - I don't know why, maybe it's a demographic thing), but characters whenever characters end up getting married it typically indicates that the stories are going downhill (even Vorkosigan, mentioned in an earlier post, suffers from this).
My own work tries to avoid some of this. In my fantasy series, I used the event of one of the characters getting married to show how up he's changed, and also to reveal just how much he didn't. He continues to be selfish and violent, but it is tempered somewhat; to be fair, it could also just be the fact that he's five years older from his last encounter with the viewpoint character as well. But being married hasn't really stopped the character from being interesting; it even motivates him, and not in the stupid "loved ones in danger" trope either. He now has more of a stake in the future of the world, so he ends up being a little more proactive in changing it.
And as a side benefit, his wife ended up as a far more interesting character than I initially thought, enough that I wrote a short story starring her after she sold her soul to the devil (and her attempt to reclaim it). She also isn't one of those people who claims to love someone, but then hates everything about what they do, or separates them from every other person in the world. She knows that she's probably going to outlive her husband, but she'd much rather have him die young than live as a shadow of himself.
Now, one of the other problems I have with fictional marriage is that everyone in fiction seems to marry either their high school sweetheart (or the girl they wished was their high school sweetheart). It's a fact: teenagers are idiots. I don't know the exact stats, but I can guess that most people move beyond the boy or girl they dated in high school.
I'm Alive!
Although in truth, as long long as I can remember, I've always been alive. Therefore, there's some precedent to assume that I'll live forever.
In truth, I was a little busy with job stuff, instead of writing fun posts on the internet stuff. Then I discovered just how much time I could really waste, when I started playing Minecraft. It reminds me of the days of my youth spent playing with Legos, minus the towering stacks of severed Lego heads .(I think there were people who were surprised when I didn't grow up to be some kind of serial killer.)
In any case, going for so long without any real updates is inexcusable, and I mean to make certain it doesn't happen again, unless something important comes up. These don't take that long, after all, especially when I post them in the hazy state I'm in right before I fall asleep.
It was some advertising guy whose name eludes me that said that discipline was necessary for creativity. I know I've always done my best work under a deadline, even if it was a strictly self-imposed one. So I'm going to a (fairly) strict Mon-Wed-Fri schedule for my posts, starting today. If I miss a post, I'll put it up the next day I get the chance.
In truth, I was a little busy with job stuff, instead of writing fun posts on the internet stuff. Then I discovered just how much time I could really waste, when I started playing Minecraft. It reminds me of the days of my youth spent playing with Legos, minus the towering stacks of severed Lego heads .(I think there were people who were surprised when I didn't grow up to be some kind of serial killer.)
In any case, going for so long without any real updates is inexcusable, and I mean to make certain it doesn't happen again, unless something important comes up. These don't take that long, after all, especially when I post them in the hazy state I'm in right before I fall asleep.
It was some advertising guy whose name eludes me that said that discipline was necessary for creativity. I know I've always done my best work under a deadline, even if it was a strictly self-imposed one. So I'm going to a (fairly) strict Mon-Wed-Fri schedule for my posts, starting today. If I miss a post, I'll put it up the next day I get the chance.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Bujold
Today I'm writing about one of my favorite authors, Lois McMaster Bujold. She's written a great many books, most of which are incredible. Any year that she releases a book or novella and it doesn't win a Hugo or a Nebula, it's something of an upset. While none of her books make my top five, or even my top ten (probably), a LOT of them make my top thirty; her writing is consistently good. Even better, she's (finally) writing the novel we've wanted since Civil Campaign starring Ivan; if nothing else, it's going to be great since her last two novels had antagonists who weren't really in Vorkosigan's weight class; Ivan doesn't quite have the same skills and position.
Her writing has some interesting characteristics. She writes her male characters better than her female characters, a reversal from what you would typically expect. In her science fiction universe, she smartly avoids the FTL technology pitfalls of the Warp Drive or similar engines in favor of a stationary wormhole network, making certain that geography still has meaning in the far future :). And if you happen to care about this kind of thing, she had GLBT characters decades before Rowling retroactively decided that Dumbledore was gay.
Her science fiction isn't really about the technology, though, except for her fascination with the reproductive technologies offered by the "uterine replicator." It's a nice change, though, from a focus on the starships and guns of the future to a relatively ordinary medical advancement (compared to immortality meds or cyberware). In some of her earlier books, she was actually developing a larger plot about telepaths, but it seemed to have been dropped by now.
Instead, her fiction is about creating some very fascinating character and using the unusual setting to create great stories for them. The primary character of her science fiction novels, Miles Vorkosigan, grows throughout the series, from the somewhat awkward scifi "coming of age" story to the more mature stories as he grows through life. And, amazing, the novels don't end when he finally settles down, marries, and has kids.
Maturity is a word that's often misused, I think. Too often, we end up using it to describe the dark and the violent. The scenes of "R" rated movies might not be appropriate for children, but I wouldn't ever call what happens therein to be particularly "adult." :) (I think there was a Calvin and Hobbes about that). Actual maturity, I think involves juxtaposing the light and the dark, the good and the bad of life. 100% Grimdark is about as mature as a teenager painting his room all black.
Now, Bujold often seems to enjoy using setups and ideas from romance novels into her works, which I'm not exactly a fan of. Shards of Honor is basically a straight scifi romance novel; that and Warrior's Apprentice are her worst books, at least in the Vorkosigan series. She has a certain optimism and faith in overall humanity that some might find annoying. And some of her characters can be, at times, almost unbearably whiny.
But she's still one of the best 'genre' writers today. If you're interested in starting the Vorkosigan series, I'd probably recommend starting with The Vor Game instead of Warrior's Apprentice though, then double back to read WA if you liked TVG.
Her writing has some interesting characteristics. She writes her male characters better than her female characters, a reversal from what you would typically expect. In her science fiction universe, she smartly avoids the FTL technology pitfalls of the Warp Drive or similar engines in favor of a stationary wormhole network, making certain that geography still has meaning in the far future :). And if you happen to care about this kind of thing, she had GLBT characters decades before Rowling retroactively decided that Dumbledore was gay.
Her science fiction isn't really about the technology, though, except for her fascination with the reproductive technologies offered by the "uterine replicator." It's a nice change, though, from a focus on the starships and guns of the future to a relatively ordinary medical advancement (compared to immortality meds or cyberware). In some of her earlier books, she was actually developing a larger plot about telepaths, but it seemed to have been dropped by now.
Instead, her fiction is about creating some very fascinating character and using the unusual setting to create great stories for them. The primary character of her science fiction novels, Miles Vorkosigan, grows throughout the series, from the somewhat awkward scifi "coming of age" story to the more mature stories as he grows through life. And, amazing, the novels don't end when he finally settles down, marries, and has kids.
Maturity is a word that's often misused, I think. Too often, we end up using it to describe the dark and the violent. The scenes of "R" rated movies might not be appropriate for children, but I wouldn't ever call what happens therein to be particularly "adult." :) (I think there was a Calvin and Hobbes about that). Actual maturity, I think involves juxtaposing the light and the dark, the good and the bad of life. 100% Grimdark is about as mature as a teenager painting his room all black.
Now, Bujold often seems to enjoy using setups and ideas from romance novels into her works, which I'm not exactly a fan of. Shards of Honor is basically a straight scifi romance novel; that and Warrior's Apprentice are her worst books, at least in the Vorkosigan series. She has a certain optimism and faith in overall humanity that some might find annoying. And some of her characters can be, at times, almost unbearably whiny.
But she's still one of the best 'genre' writers today. If you're interested in starting the Vorkosigan series, I'd probably recommend starting with The Vor Game instead of Warrior's Apprentice though, then double back to read WA if you liked TVG.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Bonus Post: Calling It
I generally think I'm pretty good at predicting the plot twists and turns of fiction, especially since I started writing my own stuff. One day I'm going to post a guideline about how to predict that stuff, in case you want to be the guy telling your friend that you knew he was dead the entire time (like I did, the first time I saw Ghost*!).
But instead, I'm writing a short post about Wheel of Time. This is essentially a longshot, and is only actually relevant to fans of the series, but I'm doing it anyways. The Dark One is, or is somehow closely related to, Balefire.
Seriously, think about it. He's the Dark One. An evil force. What is he supposed to be? A man? A horrible fanged monster? That Rand** is supposed to kill in some kind of sword-fight? As much as I love sword-fighting (not WoT swordfights though, which are far, far worse than literary shakycam), after all this build up a simple fight with the source of all evil would be kind of lame. That's what midbosses are for.
No, the Dark One wants to destroy Creation, to undo. Isn't that what Balefire essentially is? Destruction? Maybe that's the point of the chaos, the Forsaken, everything: to drive the world into a point where balefire use becomes necessary to survive. No, this theory doesn't take into account everything, but I do like it a lot more than the Dark One just being some really powerful guy.
*I'm kidding. I have never seen Ghost. I never want to see Ghost. Please don't force me to see Ghost at gunpoint.
**Why is he called the Dragon Reborn? Or, rather, why was Lews Therin called the Dragon, other than 'Fantasy Must Have Dragons'? Does anyone in WoT even know what a Dragon is?
But instead, I'm writing a short post about Wheel of Time. This is essentially a longshot, and is only actually relevant to fans of the series, but I'm doing it anyways. The Dark One is, or is somehow closely related to, Balefire.
Seriously, think about it. He's the Dark One. An evil force. What is he supposed to be? A man? A horrible fanged monster? That Rand** is supposed to kill in some kind of sword-fight? As much as I love sword-fighting (not WoT swordfights though, which are far, far worse than literary shakycam), after all this build up a simple fight with the source of all evil would be kind of lame. That's what midbosses are for.
No, the Dark One wants to destroy Creation, to undo. Isn't that what Balefire essentially is? Destruction? Maybe that's the point of the chaos, the Forsaken, everything: to drive the world into a point where balefire use becomes necessary to survive. No, this theory doesn't take into account everything, but I do like it a lot more than the Dark One just being some really powerful guy.
*I'm kidding. I have never seen Ghost. I never want to see Ghost. Please don't force me to see Ghost at gunpoint.
**Why is he called the Dragon Reborn? Or, rather, why was Lews Therin called the Dragon, other than 'Fantasy Must Have Dragons'? Does anyone in WoT even know what a Dragon is?
Creating and Editing
My dad and I had an interesting discussion the other night. We weren't talking about writing in particular, but he told me that editing was easy, but creating was hard.
But I have to disagree. I think maybe he was confusing editing with criticism or negative feedback; just about everyone would agree that destruction is far easier than creation. But editing isn't criticism or negative feedback. It's about using feedback to make something greater than what it was, while still retaining its core competencies and strengths (or, if you prefer, its soul).
Creation is easy. It's fun and exciting to create new things, to build where nothing existed before. And when working creatively, quality isn't the first priority either; it's about experimentation. You can't ever be afraid of bad ideas when you're creating. In the words of Nanowrimo, it's about turning off your inner editor during that month in November.
Editing is hard. And worse, it's not fun; it requires discipline. It's especially agonizing to painstakingly drag your own work through the coals, to figure out where all the errors are and how to fix them without destroying the book altogether.
As a side note, it seems to me that a good editor can make or break a book almost as surely as a good writer; I think most fans of the series would agree that Wheel of Time really suffers from poor editing in its later books. And many times, in fact almost all times, writers thank their editors in some notes page, or even the dedication page.
But I mean, they helped build the damn book in the first place. Some special note of thanks doesn't quite seem like enough for the second most important determinant of quality. Why don't editors get their names on the front page of the novel? Maybe it's because we think that readers don't base their purchasing decisions on the editor of books, but I'm not sure there's much data to support either argument. If I was publishing a book, I'd probably push for my editor's name to appear on the front cover of the book.
But I have to disagree. I think maybe he was confusing editing with criticism or negative feedback; just about everyone would agree that destruction is far easier than creation. But editing isn't criticism or negative feedback. It's about using feedback to make something greater than what it was, while still retaining its core competencies and strengths (or, if you prefer, its soul).
Creation is easy. It's fun and exciting to create new things, to build where nothing existed before. And when working creatively, quality isn't the first priority either; it's about experimentation. You can't ever be afraid of bad ideas when you're creating. In the words of Nanowrimo, it's about turning off your inner editor during that month in November.
Editing is hard. And worse, it's not fun; it requires discipline. It's especially agonizing to painstakingly drag your own work through the coals, to figure out where all the errors are and how to fix them without destroying the book altogether.
As a side note, it seems to me that a good editor can make or break a book almost as surely as a good writer; I think most fans of the series would agree that Wheel of Time really suffers from poor editing in its later books. And many times, in fact almost all times, writers thank their editors in some notes page, or even the dedication page.
But I mean, they helped build the damn book in the first place. Some special note of thanks doesn't quite seem like enough for the second most important determinant of quality. Why don't editors get their names on the front page of the novel? Maybe it's because we think that readers don't base their purchasing decisions on the editor of books, but I'm not sure there's much data to support either argument. If I was publishing a book, I'd probably push for my editor's name to appear on the front cover of the book.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Antiheroes
I hear the word 'antihero' tossed around discussing characters now and then. It seems to mean different things to different people. While I'd like to think that the term originated during the Nineties (with all the baggage that comes from that decade), according to this it originates from a few centuries back.
Some people seem to use the term to describe a bad guy who happens to fill the role of hero in the story. Other people use the term to describe a hero who isn't bright, shiny, and morally perfect; to them, the only real heroes are the perfect ones. I can't think of too many 'perfect' people in fiction, myself; basically, only Raoden from Elantris comes to mind. Maybe Superman, at least when they don't screw the character up?
The quintessential, even definitive, antihero in my mind is Elric of Melnibon, Moorcock's anti-Conan. And I like my definition for an antihero. An antihero is a protagonist that an author hasn't bothered to make likeable or engaging.
That sounds like a condemnation of the concept, and it's true. I hate the idea of antiheroes. Because I hate reading stories where I neither like nor respect the protagonist. And to me, at least, likeability isn't really a measure of ethics or morality, but just personality. The Gray Mouser and Fafhrd are arguably terrible people, just like Elric, but I find them far more likeable (what's really amazing is that I can spell Fafhrd without having to look it up).
Having such a low opinion of antiheroes, or just plain unlikeable protagonists, I tried to make one of the main characters of my fantasy novel No More Kings as engaging and charismatic as possible. Because, well, he's a murderous thug with no value on human life, at least as a general concept. So he's funny, confident, and otherwise likeable. I hope the methods I used work.
There's also talk about the idea of flawed heroes or characters, a concept I don't quite understand. The idea of character flaws only really makes sense if you believe there's some ideal mold from which all people are cast, that we're all striving towards some concept of perfection and falling far short. What would an unflawed character look like, exactly? People have characteristics, some we might like and consider 'good,' others we might dislike and consider 'bad', but I can't imagine what a 'zero defects' individual would look like.
What is this model that people are using, whenever they measure a character against it and determine them to be 'flawed?' Is it their religious figure of choice? Some other fictional character? Themselves*? Seriously, someone help me out here.
I might occasionally use the term 'character flaw' myself, just as a matter of habit after seeing it used by everyone else in the world, but I hate it whenever I catch myself using it.
*Not true. Most people don't really like themselves. Try giving someone a compliment and seeing how quickly they refute it. It's amazing.
Some people seem to use the term to describe a bad guy who happens to fill the role of hero in the story. Other people use the term to describe a hero who isn't bright, shiny, and morally perfect; to them, the only real heroes are the perfect ones. I can't think of too many 'perfect' people in fiction, myself; basically, only Raoden from Elantris comes to mind. Maybe Superman, at least when they don't screw the character up?
The quintessential, even definitive, antihero in my mind is Elric of Melnibon, Moorcock's anti-Conan. And I like my definition for an antihero. An antihero is a protagonist that an author hasn't bothered to make likeable or engaging.
That sounds like a condemnation of the concept, and it's true. I hate the idea of antiheroes. Because I hate reading stories where I neither like nor respect the protagonist. And to me, at least, likeability isn't really a measure of ethics or morality, but just personality. The Gray Mouser and Fafhrd are arguably terrible people, just like Elric, but I find them far more likeable (what's really amazing is that I can spell Fafhrd without having to look it up).
Having such a low opinion of antiheroes, or just plain unlikeable protagonists, I tried to make one of the main characters of my fantasy novel No More Kings as engaging and charismatic as possible. Because, well, he's a murderous thug with no value on human life, at least as a general concept. So he's funny, confident, and otherwise likeable. I hope the methods I used work.
There's also talk about the idea of flawed heroes or characters, a concept I don't quite understand. The idea of character flaws only really makes sense if you believe there's some ideal mold from which all people are cast, that we're all striving towards some concept of perfection and falling far short. What would an unflawed character look like, exactly? People have characteristics, some we might like and consider 'good,' others we might dislike and consider 'bad', but I can't imagine what a 'zero defects' individual would look like.
What is this model that people are using, whenever they measure a character against it and determine them to be 'flawed?' Is it their religious figure of choice? Some other fictional character? Themselves*? Seriously, someone help me out here.
I might occasionally use the term 'character flaw' myself, just as a matter of habit after seeing it used by everyone else in the world, but I hate it whenever I catch myself using it.
*Not true. Most people don't really like themselves. Try giving someone a compliment and seeing how quickly they refute it. It's amazing.
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