It’s Okay

Posted under A Writer's Life, Musings on December 8th, 2018 by

Today on the blog I’m writing something of a sequel to the previous blog about Finding Balance/Saying No. You may have noticed that this blog post, although published a couple of weeks after the previous one, is still published in a shorter time frame than the month I’ve had between blog posts lately.

I’m trying to take my own advice seriously–I’m even having a little success at it! Hooray! Soon I’ll probably catch up with all the little things (and some not-so-little things) that fell by the wayside while I was trying to learn how to find a new balance. There will definitely be a new chapter of Lady of Weeds in next week’s newsletter (and two proper newsletters per month again).

That said, on with this week’s blog! It’s again a more personal blog, so if you’re here for writing stuff or book stuff, you might want to skip it and wait for next week’s blog instead.

If there’s anything I’ve learned over the last year, it’s that our minds can play very weird tricks on us. My mind, in particular, can play tricks on me. Unfortunately, it tends to take a long time before I realise those tricks for what they are–much less how to deal with them.

The first time I understood that was the day I realised that no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I told myself that I just needed to forgive my husband and try to be a better wife, he would always be abusive again the next time. It was nothing to do with me. I couldn’t change it, I couldn’t stop it. It would happen again, and again, and again. I’d let myself get into the train of thought that if I could somehow be a good enough Christian, or a good enough wife, he would change.

It gave me the strength to stand up to the verbal abuse next time, and lay down ultimatums.

The next time I understood the treachery of my own mind was when I found myself feeling sorry for my ex-husband because he had to get a job now that we were separated and I was no longer financially supporting him. I actually felt sorry for him having to go to all that awful trouble–remorse leadening me as if I was the worst person in the world for causing him that trouble.

And that day, it struck me, suddenly and shockingly, that I was feeling sorry for him having to do a normal thing that every other human has to do. I’d been so tied up with his thoughts, his feelings, his anger and his demands, and for so long, that I’d gotten out of the habit of thinking of any other consideration other than what he would like, what wouldn’t make him angry–what would help me to survive another day or week before he blew up again.

It really shocked me to find myself thinking that. I’d already begun, through the process of separation from him, to find how he’d wormed his way into my head and thoughts, but that was the final straw that freed me from any guilt that I might still have felt about being kicked out–of being not a good enough wife to keep my husband’s love and care.

The latest occasion was much more recently. I’ve struggled with rosacea for roughly the last two years, from a combination of stress, diet, and allergic reactions, and lately I’ve had not just the time but the money to go to a doctor about it. That led to me getting medications that have slowly begun to help control the problem. I was two weeks into the medication when I began to see a change; a lessening of the red bumps on my face, and a more even skin tone.

It was also two weeks in when I began to find myself getting anxious. I couldn’t understand why I was struggling with anxiety again. I’d begun to heal slowly over the past six or seven months separated from my husband, after the first horrible weeks, and in general I’d been much less anxious and stressed.

I didn’t understand the resurgence of anxiety until I found myself wondering one day, if it was okay for me to be getting better. My brain was actually wondering if it was okay to use medication to get better from a sickness I had struggled with for years. Through a combination of my husband’s manipulation and selfishness, and the way that behaviour had eventually helped warped my mind, I had come to a place where I somehow believed it wasn’t okay for me to be healthy, or happy, or even safe.

My own mind had turned on itself.

I know I’m not the only one out there who struggles with this frame of mind, so I wanted to broadcast it to all you guys out there as a reminder: It’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to be healthy. It’s okay to want to be safe. You don’t have to live your life sick, or in pain, or in a dangerous situation. You can’t change the world, or another person, or sickness in your body. That’s up to God, and medical science. Things like medicine are there for you to live the best life you can live. It’s okay for you to look after yourself. It’s okay for you to want to do that, no matter what anyone tries to tell you. No matter what your own mind tries to tell you.

Don’t do what I did. Don’t bring yourself to the point of a mental breakdown. Take care of yourself. It’s okay.

Why I Write What I Write (Part Two: Or, The Actual Blog Post)

Posted under A Writer's Life, Musings on July 5th, 2018 by

Okay, here is the actual blog post on Why I Write What I Write…

(…and it’s probably going to be insanely long, too; but since I’ve already apologised in advance, you have no grounds for complaint if you’re still here).

Be aware that there’s gunna be a lot of talk about God in this post, so if you’re not comfortable with that, run now.

Why do I write what I write?

To answer that, I should probably first clarify what I do write: I write fantasy (fairy tale rewrites and original fantasy), urban fantasy, scifi, and occasionally, a bit of off-beat horror. Ideally, I would love to break into Christian fiction as well; but since the writing is a lot harder to do well, I’ve given myself a few years to grow into being a writer first.

The fact that I don’t, at the moment, write overtly Christian fiction is a bone of contention to several people who don’t know me at all but feel like they should discuss the matter with me, and a few who do know me (or have known me through the years) and are honestly concerned for my soul.

I was very young when the first concerned person asked me to consider if being a writer was a profession I thought was glorifying to God, since that person considered that fiction was lying.

I gave it a lot of thought, being the unsure little person I was; and, more importantly, I prayed about it a lot. I wanted to make sure that I was doing the right thing.

And I’m glad I did. As a Christian, I want everything in my life to honour God, and writing is no exception.

Having prayed for several years about it (and writing all that time on the side while I worked), I came to be convinced that there was nothing inherently wrong with writing, and that there was nothing wrong with what I was writing in particular—or in seeking to pursue it as a profession.

I laid down several standards for myself that I didn’t want to breach, and started to write in earnest, in the best way I could.

Over the years, I’ve had many other such questions.

Why write fiction? Isn’t it just lying? What about the murders that occur in some of your books? Desensitisation?

Remember the parables? They weren’t real life stories, but they certainly weren’t lies, either. They were another way to display truth. I think most Christians would be surprised to hear them called lies.

Murders? Yes, because people do get murdered, and awful things happen. I prefer to write with a sense of hope, but that doesn’t mean that everything between the covers is going to be rosy before the happy ending.

And sometimes death is necessary. Characters who apply ruthless justice are not always comfortable to read, but to me they’re a necessary type—especially in today’s world, where only a weak, truth-avoiding kind of love seems to be seen as acceptable.

Why write fantasy? With magic? Should Christians do that?

Honestly, if I were writing hardcore witchcraft, I’d understand this accusation. I wouldn’t be comfortable writing something the Bible explicitly condemns; at least not in a fantasy setting.

But I don’t. I write fantasy books with a magical system that is something similar to the natural and scientific systems. Life with a bit…extra.

A bit extra wonder. A bit more to learn. Another level of reality.

If you’re going to write fiction, why not write Christian fiction?

Christian fiction is the hardest genre ever to do well.

Seriously.

In my formative years I was so frustrated at the lack of good Christian fiction out there. Either it was romance with a bit of God tacked on in the most superficial way possible, or it was badly written, thinly veiled preaching.

I didn’t want to write either. I wanted to write good Christian fiction; stuff where the characters act and behave according to their Christian natures, not like everyone else, with a bit of prayer tacked on.

And I didn’t want to shove message fiction and people, either. I wanted the message to come through naturally, steeped through the realistic reactions of Christians who thought like Christians and acted like Christians.

It’s hard guys. And like I said before, I gave myself a few years to get my craft up to scratch before I tried again. There are still a couple books waiting to be rewritten very soon… It’s always been my end goal to write Christian fiction (not to say that I’ll stop writing the other kinds of fiction, because I won’t; I want to WRITE THEM ALL).

And suddenly we’re back again to the question of Why do I write what I write?

I write what I write because it’s another way of displaying the truth. A decorative, subversive, winding way of displaying the truth that delights and makes people have to think.

I write what I write because I love writing fantasy. I love the way I can create a whole world, layer the magic and the political system through the whole thing. I love threading manners and morals and proverbs and culture through my worlds.

I write what I write because I love the act of creation itself. It’s something that has always fascinated me about God in particular, His creative side; and it’s something that makes me feel particularly close to Him. Like I understand a very small part of what He is. Like I’m just a little bit closer to Him as a creator, though my type of creation is so much less than His.

I write what I write because it gives me joy.

I write what I write because it gives other people joy.

I write what I write because it’s a way for me to do something with the gift God has given me.

What do I want to achieve with my writing?

I want to tell a good story. I want to write well.

I want to honour God by doing the best possible job of my writing; by giving everything I’ve got to the life path He’s given me to walk. By growing in craft and execution as much as I possibly can; by creating art that’s both beautiful and joyful.

I want to have engaging and morally good characters that resonate with people. I want to write fiction with a sense of hope, no matter what the circumstances. I want to give joy and amusement and delight.

And I want most of all, as in everything else in my life, to glorify God through my writing.

I don’t necessarily start out to write a book with Christian themes in mind (this was especially true when I first began publishing), but they somehow manage to work their way in due to my outlook on life—and, as with every other author out there, my worldview bleeds into any book I write.

No matter what you do as a person, your personal outlook and view on life will affect how you act, react, and interact.

That holds especially true for writers, since our way of life necessarily leads to outward expression of the things that are inside us. We learn as we write, we write as we learn; and everything that goes into us comes back out in our books.

Even when we don’t know it, we’re putting ourselves into our work; in the way our characters think and react; in the themes that run through our books, whether known or unknown; in the very feeling and sense that our books give.

And if it comes right down to it, I’ve had complaints from both sides of the coin on my writing—while there are people who fancy my books ungodly, there are others who object to the noblebright style of writing, the lack of swearing, and the lack of any other couples than m/f ones (not to mention the lack of sex scenes).

I’ve answered those elsewhere, but that answer basically boils down to what I tell people who are sincerely convinced that my books are ungodly.

Don’t read my books. Don’t harm your conscience on my account. If you believe, for whatever reason, that my books are evil, don’t read them. It’s not worth the harm to your conscience, and I wouldn’t want you to do it.

Finally, aside from anything fancied wrong about writing fantasy (magic, lying, etc), I’ve also had people concerned that writing itself is a bad or wasteful thing.

“Why would you waste your time? How can you honour God like that? How can you be sure you’re doing God’s will? Why can’t you do a sensible job?”

Gentle reminder right here—writing is a job. This is my actual job I’m doing here. The job I do to get paid.

I love it, but it is my job.

Imagine asking someone who works on the checkouts, “Excuse me, but are you sure you’re doing God’s will? How is this going to honour God? Are you sure you’re not wasting your talents?”

Or someone who drives a bus, “Isn’t this a waste of time when you could be serving God elsewhere?”

We all have to work. We all have a job to do.

I’m singularly blessed in that I can write for a job. I love writing. In fact, there’s very little in my life I love as much as writing, and I’m grateful every day to God (and to you guys) that I can actually make something close to a full living from doing something so amazing.

But it’s also a way of earning money. In your nine to five job, there are many chances to honour God, whether or not you’re preaching or doing missionary work. Similarly, I have opportunities each day. Those opportunities don’t go away just because my job happens to be that of being a writer.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t say something if you’re concerned for someone’s soul, or if you feel God is prompting you to speak. But bear in mind that each person stands or falls before God, and that you can’t persuade someone into your way of thinking without God changing that person’s mind.

It’s not your job to make over everyone in your image. If you’re concerned, pray for us. We can always use the prayer; we’re all growing, and learning, and trying to honour God. That shows your love for us far better than ranting at us over social media or shaking your finger in our faces.

And it leaves the work of changing hearts and minds exactly where it belongs; with God.

Musings: Writing in the Negative Space

Posted under Methods of writing, Musings, Uncategorized, Writerly Things on November 8th, 2016 by

I’m baaaa-aaaaack!

G’day!

I was having a discussion with a friend of mine, recently. This friend is insanely talented (he writes and draws), and we were talking over a collaborative idea I’d had for both of us to work on (said collaborative idea involving a graphic novel/comic style book).

This led us into a discussion of the sort of illustration style I had in mind–which, to be honest, mostly served to illustrate (ha! see what I did there?) how little idea I had of the style I wanted, and how little I knew about drawing and graphics as a whole. One of the art styles I brought up as something I liked was the art of Hellboy, which led off into another discussion–this one about the use of negative space.

Negative space.

Mike Mignola's Hellboy

Mike Mignola’s Hellboy

It’s a concept that I’d heard of before, but not in a while. The concept, like the style, is deceptively simple: negative space is the space that surrounds an object (the positive space) in an image. In the concept of negative space, this space is just as important–and in some cases, more important–than the positive space. It defines the positive space. It gives the positive space its meaning and boundaries. As a method of illustration, it brings a certain starkness and boldness of style that I love.

After discussing this with my friend, it occurred to me that I’m fond of negative space in more than just illustrations. I’m also a huge fan of negative space when it comes to reading–and writing.

On the face of it, you’d say that it’s not possible to used negative space for anything that isn’t visual. I would then say that you’re dead wrong. (If, on the other hand, you’d say that you agree completely, I’d stutter around a bit because the conversation was not going the way it went in my head and I was now flailing while my brain re-routed it.)

Because of course it’s possible. The execution may be slightly different, but the idea of presenting a concept, world, or character by using factors and indicators outside of the actual concept, world, or character, is a totally legitimate form of writing. It’s also a very effective one.

So there you have it, guys.

Basically, if you ever read one of my books that doesn’t make sense to you, or where the world-building, characters, or concept is never fully explained, it’s just me writing in the negative space and you obviously haven’t been clever enough to understand my genius *snark, snark* (IT’S ALL THERE IN THE SUBTEXT, GUYS.)

Seriously, though.

Negative space is one of my favourite styles of writing–was even before I thought of it as an actual style–and I typically try to explain as little as possible, leaving the reader to figure things out on their own by the way the book is written and the way the characters act and react. (“Never apologise, never explain”, as Antonia Forest says through her Navy-trained characters).

Because I trust you guys to be clever enough to get it. Sometimes, of course, that backfires on me, because sometimes I forget how much I know about the story as a whole, and don’t give my readers enough to work with.

In other words, negative space can be a double-edged sword, which means it needs to be handled very carefully (especially if you’re inclined to clumsiness, like me). But when done well, it’s delightful to read.

My favourite users of negative space: Antonia Forest, Ronald Kidd, Diana Wynne Jones, and Nicholas Fisk.

Antonia Forest uses her negative space in the form of conversation: aka, what is often not written in the form of narrative is given to the reader just as clearly by effective dialogue. It shapes the narrative rather than the narrative shaping it.

In a similar fashion, Ronald Kidd (especially in the fabulous Sizzle and Splat) writes whole passages of dialogue only, and it is amazingly effective. Seriously, go and read Sizzle and Splat right now.

Diana Wynne Jones uses her negative space more in the way of spare, no-nonsense narrative that in its simplicity says a lot more than another writer would say in twice as many words. She uses simple words and easy sentences, and they’re superbly  effective.

Nicholas Fisk, now: he’s the the really interesting one. His negative space is more of an idea than an actual thing. It’s the adult perspective. See, he writes children’s books. I could read them easily as a child and understood and loved them. Now that I read them as an adult, its as though there’s a second layer there: a layer just for me as an adult, that shapes the story into different–and yet they’re just the same–lines than it had when I was a child.

I don’t always do it well, and I don’t always do it effectively, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop using negative space.

10 Worst Book to Screen Adaptations

Posted under Fun Stuff, Movies, Musings on March 27th, 2016 by

The movie is never as good as the book. Never. Sometimes it comes awfully close, but it’s never quite there. (Except for AUSTENLAND. Book and movie are even stevens.)

And then there are those really, REALLY bad adaptations.

In no particular order, here are 10 of the worst book to movie adaptations.

1. Eragon

Or, yanno, good acting? Or good dialogue, for that matter...

Or, yanno, good acting? Or good dialogue, for that matter…

I’ll be honest here. I didn’t actually like the book/s. I thought they were poorly written and exceedingly boring.

But the movie. Oh my.

The movie was its own level of awful. From dreadful acting to abysmal script, this movie just couldn’t do anything right. Even the CGI looked embarrassed to be part of it.

No matter what I thought of the book (and I’m fully aware how many of my friends loved it), it certainly didn’t deserve the laughably dreadful movie that happened to it.

This one should die a quick, painless death.

2. Howl’s Moving Castle (Studio Ghibli)

I can’t accurately convey my sense of absolute betrayal when I saw this dreadful excuse for a Diana Wynne-Jones story. For a start, it was animation. Okay, I could deal with that. I prefer live action, but hey! some stories are worth watching no matter what medium they’re made in. And HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE is one of my all-time favourite books.

This movie, tho. This movie. It stomped on HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE. It took names and vague ideas and then made a horrible, pastel anime chuck-up all over my tv screen. It had the worst tropes you find in anime, the worst of the stupid gasps, shrieks, and little girl noises that anime is capable of. And it totally messed up one of the coolest storylines I’ve ever read to turn it into a caricature of itself.

I’m going to go all stern Mr. Knightly and say: “Badly done, Studio Ghibli. Badly done!”

3. HitchHiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

I actually feel kinda bad about putting this one here. I mean, the movie was actually kinda fun. I mean, c’mmon–

Sorry, Movie HGTG, you're just not as good as Book HGTG!

Sorry, Movie HGTG, you’re just not as good as Book HGTG!

Martin Freeman, Zooey Deschenel, and Alan Rickman’s voice. You can’t ask for much more than that. And it was so ridiculously enjoyable!

Then I read the book.

Oh my. The book was fabulous. It made me determined to go out and buy all of the books.

It did not do the movie any favours. So, as book to movie goes, not a good job.

4. Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland

I waited for this one with barely contained excitement. The trailers, the tag-lines–everything about it was so beautiful. And with Tim Burton directing it, I figured there was absolutely no way it could be anything other than flamin’ fantastic.

I was wrong.

Well, I was right, too.

It’s seriously one of the most beautiful films you can watch. Gorgeous colours, fantastic outfits, kooky characters, and delightfully dark scenes.

Unfortunately, the movie had no plot. Unless that plot was to show how special and quirky Mia Wasikowska is, of course. She was a dreadful, smug, utterly boring Alice. Even Johnny Depp as the Hatter couldn’t save this movie from being a beautifully presented piece of depthless fluff.

If you love Alice, try the 2009 miniseries ALICE (my favourite. Oh! I could rave about this miniseries for hours!) If you’re more inclined to a traditional Alice, probably go for the 1999 ALICE IN WONDERLAND. It’s a little younger, but it’s quite lovely and mad.

5. Twilight

Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re saying. It’s TWILIGHT. Of course it’s rubbish.

Godfrey is not impressed by your scriptwriting...

Godfrey is underwhelmed by your scriptwriting…

I should say here that I actually enjoyed the book. (Actually, I enjoyed the first and the last. I’m not a great lover of love triangles, so I didn’t particularly enjoy books #2 & #3.) It wasn’t perfect, but it was enjoyable. And it was reasonably new in its time–something I think people forget now that we’re used to it and all its ripoffs.

The movie/s managed to take all the worst of the books without any of the good: we ended up with a sickly saccharine, badly acted, badly directed, dreadfully scripted mess. I won’t bash Kristen Stewart for that–I’ve seen her act amazingly in too many movies to think that she was the problem. In the behind-the-scenes features that I watched (what? I love behind-the-scenes stuff! I’m a writer, for pete’s sake!) all I could see was the director squashing any spark of life from the actors who were doing the best they could do with an abysmal script.

If you simply must watch any of the movies, do yourself a favour and stick to the first movie only.

6. Pride and Prejudice (2005 version)

I feel bad about this one, too. Much like HITCH HIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY, it was actually a good movie. Great, even. Enjoyable, definitely. And the sisters were just so silly and young and beautifully done. I could even put up with Lizzy pinching some of Mr. Bennett’s lines. It was a good, albeit vinegary, version of Lizzy. This movie is well worth watching.

What it wasn’t, was PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. I’m sorry, but I say no to the dawn strolls in nightclothes where the H & H meet and aren’t discomposed to find that neither of them are fully dressed while wandering.

No.

And down with the spaghetti straps of Caro’s dress. For pity’s sake, KNOW YOUR APPROPRIATE FASHIONS AND RULES OF SOCIETY, DIRECTORS.

NO TO THE SPAGHETTI STRAPS IN REGENCY PERIOD PIECES.

And make sure you watch the very excellent 1995 Colin Firth/Jennifer Ehle version (then the Grea Garson/Laurence Olivier version just for fun and kicks).

7. ShadowHunters: The Mortal Instruments (TV Series)

Oh. Wow.

Just wow.

I stopped reading the books because of this (apologies if there are any swear words in there, it’s been a while since I read these), and because some of the things in the books made me uncomfortable from a moral standpoint. I’d like to stress that I didn’t find the books badly written. They certainly didn’t deserve what has been done to them in this series.

tumblr_lm3dntYa7L1qbz270o1_500

Oh! The drama!

What has been done to them is much the same as what was done to TWILIGHT. Truly cringe-worthy script. Acting of the worst, overly-dramatic kind. REALLY bad wigs. The fact that Clary (a size 0 at biggest) fits the clothes of Isabella (a tall, curvy, busty brunette), just so that we can see her in ‘hot’ clothes that natch she wouldn’t *gasp* normally wear.

And then there is the hugely sexualised way in which every single teenaged character is portrayed and/or behaves.

Mostly, though, it’s just really bad tv.

8. Persuasion (2007 version)

I was so sad about this one. And really, it’s not a bad movie. It’s just that there is zero chemistry between the H & H. I also don’t think they could have made the pleasant-faced Sally Hawkins look any uglier if they’d tried. Seriously, her hair is pulled back so tightly that it looks painted on. As far as consistency goes, it’s very close to the book, and it’s beautifully set. It just…leaves me empty and unmoved.

This version of PERSUASION (the book of which is a huge favourite of mine) doesn’t have a patch on the warm, soft, loveable 1995 version with Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds. That’s the version to watch.

9. The Hobbit

I should preface this by saying that I really enjoyed the first two HOBBIT movies: they were too long, but they were fun and I absolutely love snarky Bilbo/Martin Freeman. I didn’t even mind the changes (aka Tauriel and Kili), since I thought they added a nice element to the story. 

sorry some dayThen the last movie came out.

For starters, with the lack of remaining material, it should have been about half an hour long. Then we have to consider the atmosphere of it all. In book HOBBIT, the atmosphere, although chancy, adventurous, and exciting, was always light-hearted and never heavy. When there was sadness it was dignified and valorous. The first two HOBBIT movies managed that quite admirably with just touches of darkness as appropriate. The last HOBBIT movie changed all that.

I liked you, Peter Jackson. Why did you have to ruin THE HOBBIT?

10. The Count of Monte Cristo

Which one?

All of them. ALL. OF. THEM.

Look, the whole idea of Edmund Dantes was that he was out for revenge on everyone in his old life who had done him wrong. And the whole idea of the book, as we follow him through his meticulous and terrifyingly clever machinations, is his redemption and eventual learning to forgive. To leave the things and people that hurt him behind, and to grasp those things which are ahead. A new start. A new life. A new love.

A giving up of hate and the old ways. A taking on of forgiveness and life.

Why, then, in every single movie version of MONTE CRISTO, do the directors/writers insist upon having Dantes get together with his old love, Mercedes? WHY?!? Why do they ruin the book?!?

Dantes gives up his last chance for revenge because he has been taught to love again. He falls in love with *spoilers* Haydee, the princess he rescued *end spoilers* Mercedes doesn’t even enter his mind. Why? Because she’s a part of his old life and one of the ones who (indirectly but certainly) did Dantes wrong. She was faithless and useless.

It doesn’t help that there’s such a depth and richness in the book that you simply can’t do justice to in a movie–or even a short tv series. 

I love you, Gerard Depardieu. But your version of MONTE CRISTO was just as bad as Jim Caviezel’s. 

Okay. End rant. what do you consider to be the 10 worst book to screen adaptations?

(And yes, in case you’re wondering: I did gif this entire post with MY MAN GODFREY. Why? Because MY MAN GODFREY is amazing, and they were just so appropriate…)

When in doubt, be Frank

When in doubt, be Frank

Musings: Why Won’t This Thing Die??

Posted under Bad Writing, Musings on October 19th, 2015 by

There’s this thing I see a lot in fiction. It happens in movie/tv series as much as in books, and it’s even more annoying there (for my long-suffering hubby as well, because then I remonstrate with the tv. At the top of my lungs.).

It’s the thing where the detective/cop/insurance investigator is too close to the investigation due to a personal connection (ie, investigating the death of his/her own wife/husband/brother/whatever), and throws convention and the orders of their superior officers to the wind to investigate and generally make a nuisance of themselves. The plucky detective then goes on to prove that he/she can handle the pressure and bring the murderer to justice.

It’s a reasonably irritating trope, but I can live with it cos I can sympathise with the desire to make sure justice is done by doing it oneself.

The thing I want to die? The episode further down the road where an officer from another precinct or a grieving father of a murdered/missing girl is determined to push themselves into an investigation. Same setup, same idea. But this time, the officer or father is painted at best as an interfering annoyance and at worst as a trouble-stirring ambulance chaser.

No. Just no. If something is laudable because your MC does it, it can’t become dreggy and wrong because a side-character does it. That’s flamin’ bad writing and needs to be fixed. Give your side-characters and walk-on characters a better form of conflict. Flip your point of view. Just because your MCs are bothered, it doesn’t mean the thing that bothers them has to be a bad thing. Maybe they need to learn a lesson. There’s nothing more annoying than a set of characters who encourage you to see only from one point of view, and automatically assign opposing ones the status of being wrong by virtue of disagreeing with them.

Repeat it with me: “It’s flamin’ BAD WRITING”.

Musings: Praying For World Peace

Posted under Easter, Musings, Theology on April 5th, 2015 by

It’s Easter, and a lot of my Catholic and Episcopalian friends are in church for the week, praying for world peace (along with other things, one presumes).

So I’m going to talk about peace today. Only since I’m Protestant, I’m going to talk about it slightly differently.

Essentially, Christmas (my favourite holiday) and Easter (2nd favourite- yup, I’m that predictable) are all about peace. It’s not, however, the sort of peace that you may be thinking about. Christmas and Easter are inextricably linked together: the one celebrating the birth of God in the form of a man, the other commemorating the death of Christ on the cross. The main link between the two is Christ. Well- obviously, I suppose. Christ is born (Christmas) and Christ is killed and rises again (Easter).

The other link between the two is the idea of peace.

When Adam sinned, both as a single man and as the head of the entire human race, we all fell with him- following our representative head. Thus, from then forward, every human born was born in sin, and at enmity with God: because how can a truly just and righteous God permit sin? If He did, He wouldn’t be righteous or just, nor would He be God. “For the wages of sin is death”¹ and somebody has to pay that price.

But because He is a God of mercy also, He made a way for  His justice to be satisfied; and in so doing, His mercy was shown as the great godlike quality that it is. Thus, when Christ is born, the angels sing: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men!”²

The angels aren’t talking about men loving their fellow men, here. That’s a good thing, but it’s not what they’re talking about. The angels are rejoicing that at last, on earth, there is “God in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself”.³ God becomes man, being born as a human; and as a human (and mankind’s other representative head), dies to pay the wages of sin. God’s justice is meted out on God himself, so that God can extend peace and forgiveness to sinners like me.

Since this is Resurrection Sunday, no Easter blog post would be complete without mentioning the resurrection. Christ rose again from the dead, alive and changed, because His sacrifice had proved acceptable and fully covered all of those for whom He died.

There’s peace to be had from Easter and Christmas, but it’s not the sort of peace that’s usually peddled this time of year. It’s a better peace. It’s “God in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself”. It’s the peace of knowing that the divine justice of an angry God has been appeased by that God Himself, and that if we accept “the gift of God, in Jesus Christ our Lord,”¹ we can be reconciled to God. His peace has been extended to us.

So, this Easter, I’ll be praying for peace on earth, goodwill toward men.

{1} Romans 6:23

{2} Luke 2:14

{3} 2 Corinthians 5:19

Musings: On Hannibal The Cannibal

Posted under Distractions, Favourite Movies, Growing as a writer, Movies, Musings, predators, Stuff you learn on February 22nd, 2015 by

Okay, so first things first. When I talk about Hannibal I mean the TV and Movie Hannibal. I haven’t read the books. That said, proceed!

hannibal lecter

I’ve watched a few of the Hannibal movies (Silence of the Lambs, Red Dragon, and Hannibal) and I’m now in the process of watching the second season of TV Hannibal, which is slightly different again but just as compelling. (Also it’s fun to listen to hubby retching when he comes in sight of the tv screen for a particularly gruesome murder.)

The murders are one and all excessively gruesome and sometimes beautiful in that gruesomeness (for example, the guy with a tree wrapped around his legs, his arms in its cherry-blossom’d branches and glorious flowers blossoming from his split torso). They’re also almost completely unbelievable. I mean, seriously, what murderer has the uninterrupted time to set up a guy in a tree in a parking lot without being noticed? Or slice a girl into slides and arrange the slides so beautifully that it’s like looking at one of those books with the plastic slides of musculature? Not to mention the cops should have a field day with stuff as easy to find out as who purchased eight-odd MASSIVE FREAKING SLIDES OF GLASS.

That’s another story, though, and for the most part I suspend disbelief and just go along with it. The question that occurred to me the other night is, why do I go along with it? Why am I watching this show? Why am I even half cheering for this guy?

To recap:

  1. The bloke eats people. Yanno? He actually slices pieces of flesh and bone (though mostly, it seems, the soft organs like kidneys and brains and tongues) and cooks and eats them. That’s not okay. That’s gross and disturbing and completely alien to any right-thinking person.

  2. He murders on a whim. If he thinks someone is being rude, whether to himself or some other societal more he considers important, wham! That person is liable to end up dead, with missing body parts. That goes for any musician unlucky enough to disturb Hannibal’s enjoyment of a concert by playing a wrong note. I can only imagine what he’d do to someone whose mobile phone went off in the middle of said concert.

  3. He’s been known to wear people’s faces. Seriously. Like, tearing off a dude’s face and wearing it to escape (if you want to know how that happens, watch the movie yourself). And he tends to disemboweling and other gross stuff like that. He seems to prefer his victims alive, too. That is also not okay.

There’s more, but those are the main things. This guy is a predator; a terrifying, alien, other predator with no normal human morals or perceivable conscience.

So, the question remains: Why is he so compelling?

And I can’t deny that he is compelling, because despite the extreme violence in the movies/tv show, and the (for me) more than usually allowable bad language, I found it hard to stop watching. Why is that? Since the moment I watched The Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal (my favourite of the movies, if ‘favourite’ is quite the word to use) I’ve puzzled to myself about why I find Hannibal so compelling. Watching the second season of the TV show Hannibal got me wondering again.

This morning, in the middle of my devotions, cuddling my cup of tea, I got it.

There’s a catechism/truth/principal that is used in the Presbyterian church I go to, and in some of the older protestant books that I read. It goes something like: ‘The value of a soul depends upon the object of its affections’. It’s used in relation to God and His loving of His own Self: ie, that His soul/person is of infinite value and worth because the object of His affections (Himself) is utterly beautiful, perfect, right, just, and unchanging. His affections are set on what is most right and beautiful. In that sense, God defines Himself. It’s also used with regards to Christians. We’re ultimately beautiful when we love that which is beautiful- in this case, God. Our worth is dependent upon appreciating and finding beautiful the things that are beautiful and ought to be appreciated. If we love wrong things and see them as beautiful instead, our soul is corrupted.

To tie this in, consider Hannibal’s main relationships. In the movies, it’s mainly Clarice Starling: an upright, righteous, and morally straight FBI Agent. There’s the sense that she’s a good copper, but the main idea that I personally got from their interactions on screen was her unwavering sense of right. She was morally upright.

In the TV series there is Will Graham. Now, as the series proceeds, he gets darker. But the thing about Will that I most appreciate is that he sees the darkness in the world and potentially in himself, and he hates it. Even the wrong things he does are motivated by a sense of right. He is terrified of the darkness, and yet he keeps fighting it in the world and in himself.

And these two people, in one way or another, Hannibal loves. He loves them fiercely, terrifyingly, and in some cases, almost entirely selflessly. It’s an alien and unfathomable emotion in him. He sees the uprightness in them and he loves them for it. He knows that if he gets too close he’ll be burned, but he can’t seem to help himself. He’s drawn to them.

And that, right there, is what makes Hannibal such a compelling character. In his otherness and alienness, he is terrifying. But in his love of these two people (and seemingly only these two people) with their uprightness and unwavering determination to do what is right at all times, there is something oddly good and worthwhile.

So while the violence turns my stomach at times, and I fully recognise that Hannibal needs to be shot quickly and efficiently, I can’t help but find him compelling still.

Mads Mikkelson as Hannibal Lecter

Mads Mikkelson as Hannibal Lecter

Strong Female Leads

Posted under Distractions, Favourite Movies, Hassles, Musings, stuff that annoys me, Stuff you learn, Uncategorized on February 18th, 2015 by

I’m very definite about what I like in characters. I will very often put down a book without reading all the way through if I don’t like the main character/s, and I’ve been known to verbally remonstrate with TV characters who are doing stupid things. This holds true for all characters, but is more stringently applied to female lead characters I read/watch (mostly because I’m female and dislike seeing females made ridiculous without good reason. Men can mostly be as ridiculous as they like without upsetting me unduly).

If the female lead is, for example: a) Always relying upon the hero to save her, b) Always belittling/snarking at the hero, c) Making stupid decisions because the book/movie needs it for angst/danger, d) Always having sex because she’s a strong female lead who don’t need no man/rules/standards ETC, ETC, ETC-

I WILL BURN THAT BOOK/MOVIE.

(Actually, I won’t: I’ll probably just make a face and donate it to the op-shop/bin/a friend. But still. Ya get me. If I get really hot under the collar, I’ll compose snarky reviews in my head that will never see the light of a computer.)

There’s a lot of angst about Strong Female Leads. Someone is always trying to make sure that movies have enough Strong Female Leads, or that a book has a Strong Female Lead. It’s one of those things that you’re forever hearing about on the ‘net. I mean forever. There are tantrums and jumpings up and down, and accusations of misogyny etc, clouding the air and making things generally difficult to see.

I’ll admit, I used to roll my eyes about it a lot. (Actually, I still do at some of the more tantrum-like outbursts.) And then, the matter having been brought to my attention, I started noticing stuff.

It was most often in movies. (Books have weak, annoying, and/or stereotypical female leads, but they have an equal amount of weak, annoying and/or stereotypical male leads.) I’d be watching a movie, enjoying it more or less depending upon which one it was, and then BAM- there was a female lead wearing next to nothing. FOR NO REASON. Cos, trust me, if you’re a ninja/knight/samurai/whatever, you’re gonna want as much body surface covered. The male counterpart would be fully clothed. And then the female lead would fall/trip/get bashed and have to be rescued by one of the blokes for the seemingly sole purpose of being clutched to the well muscled chest of whichever one happened to save her.

So basically, the female lead was there for looks, and for the rush that the male ego gets for having saved a damsel in distress. Now, don’t get me wrong, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with a female in a movie/book having to be rescued. But when it’s already established that she’s apparently the best/strongest/fastest, it’s really annoying to find that she has to be saved by the male of the piece simply because she’s female.

That’s not cool. It’s not cool to see female characters used in tv shows/movies simply for the purpose of eye candy. It’s not cool to see them always berating and/or sleeping with the male counterpart simply to prove that they’re a strong female lead who don’t need no man. C’mmon dudes, there has to be some middle ground here. And it’d be kinda nice to see female action figures, too (I’m looking at you Avengers. Yanno, while I’m on the subject).

It’d just be nice to see more interesting, reasonable females (action movies, I’m looking at you) who have their own stories and react to events/people/etc on their own terms and not merely with relation to the storyline of the main male character. I love action movies, but they’re the ones most guilty of female stereotyping (yeah, Taken.  I love you, but Liam Neeson’s wife needed to be murdered a lot sooner).

That’s all. That’s all I’m asking.

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