Sooo... apparently this is a thing.
I'm really unsure as to what the purpose of this was... but it looks kinda awesome. A total experiment in terms of film making; scope of story, effects, execution; it's like someone watched Team America and said to themselves, "You know, that's not a bad idea. Let's do that, only not as a joke."
This is really a film that you have to just say "...okay" to in order to get through, because the whole "strings to heaven" thing is just kinda odd when you get down to it. I'm curious as to how exactly they function with ceilings or, as the trailer shows, tangling, but it's an added something that makes you want to see it.
If you have the time, it's broken up on Youtube.
At some point, when I post, it's going to be more than just me saying that "I'm back." Because really, the stutter steps between these things are just embarrassing.
So I come bearing gifts this time.
Have you heard the word? The word is actually, the bird.
Baring said bird, the big thing to talk about, praising, poorly or otherwise, in the lit world is the BDSM erotica-fanfiction-cum-bestseller thing called 50 Shades of Grey
From all that I've gathered, it gets prodominately the stay-at-home momthers hot under the apron, who seem to be the only ones anyone will say this book is for, while being essentially a Twilight
knockoff (and a slightly proud one, at that) only with less sparkle and more spanking. Woo.
What everyone (everyone
) agrees with, however, is the book, as written is utter bile. Not the subject matter isn't poorly researched or well introduced - rest assured, as little research went into this as possible - but while most racey subject matter is bound to be banned from some library somewhere, it says a lot when they say their reasons rest less with the bondage and sex than it does with how utterly horrible the writer is at what they should be good at.
None of this is aimed at fanfiction. Fanfiction is what it is; a testing ground, a place where writers of large and small go to play with wordage and see what skill they possess. Some are good, numerous are bad, most are just an outlet of wishful thinking fingers. Too often the ones that make it big, such as this, should never have been given trees to kill, but again, not what this is aimed at.
My issue? My procrastination issues.
Because (at least I believe) I wrote, or at least had the idea for, something that while close in basic idea, was a lot fucking better written
right here! This would have been so much better than the putrid whatever it was that came out!
Okay, got that out. I'm well aware that many ideas germinate at the same time, and often it's coincidence that they come out the same time or close to the same manner. It's not the first time it's happened to me. But still, it's a kick in the ass to get going on things, because while I may not get as far on shock and spanking as 50 Shades
, I can at least know I did the concept better.
Wow, girls kinda got shafted didn't they?
...that sounded less dirty in my head, right before I actually said it.
( Read more...Collapse )
Something I never thought about, at least when I first started watching, was that they do their jobs... pretty badly. Number one of which is, somebody turn on a freaking light
. How these people do any work at all, or aren't all wearing glasses is beyond me, because I swear these people are vampires. Okay, granted, they're the night shift, but when you're sweeping a scene for evidence, what protocol is there to not turn on a freaking lamp or ceiling light? Especially in the lab, where you're supposed to be doing important work; you need more than just a single light source focused on just the evidence in question. I shudder to think of how much they miss, or misfocus on, because their attention is attracted to the bright light. CSI Las Vegas are a lab of moths.
WHY DO YOU NEED A FLASHLIGHT INDOORS YOU FUCKS?!( Read more...Collapse )
I don't- What did I just- Who- WHY?!
Watch this. Ignore that stupid screen grab that does nothing to ease you into a total- just- Look just watch it. It's not bad (horribly... for the most part), it only alludes to it... still a tad NSFW though.
And then takes a left turn.
Off a cliff.
In mid air.
After what seems like some time, I've finally bought some new books. My last buying spree, that what it was, was last year when Border's was hemraging books for sale, and while I haven't made it through all those yet, I figured it was time for some new blood, er, ink
I got: ~The Serpent Sea~
by Martha Wells~Ganymede~
by Cherie Priest
and gave into mass media hype and bought ~The Hunger Games Trilogy~
as to be ready for the new movie (should I go see it).
The first two I've wanted to get, have read the previous entries in both series (The Cloud Roads
respectively) and was excited to see both on the shelves when I was in a purchasing mood. The Hunger Games... I'll be honest, I'm not sure how I feel. The movie looks to be interesting, one of the good things about massively popular books-turned-movie is that good attention is given to what is produced (which is why Eragon
's movie sucked so much HEY-OO). But is it just me or does the world seem too... I dunno clean
? I get dystopia's aren't wandering mobs and such, but, I guess I expected more, sorta, less shiny? Did that make sense?
And I don't care how much I may turn out to like the books and such, I still think Mockingjay
sounds stupid said out loud.
However, one of the big motivators for new books was the current one I'm
trying to read. The Horns of Ruin
by Tim Akers. It's...
I had hoped to save this for an actual book review later (of which I plan on doing for the aforementioned already read series mentioned above), but I'm seven days gone and only one chapter
in, and I'm just about giving up. Trying to press though this thing gives me a logic headache, and I just can't give enough a crap to try to make it make sense.
When I say "it wants" what I mean is it "wants you to take it super-serious". It "wants you to be sucked in". It "wants you to be impressed by how super-noir it wants to seem instead of WRITING SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME DOUBLE BACK TO REREAD THE SAME GODDAMN SENTENCE TO MAKE SENSE OF THE LAST FIVE".*takes a breath*
Sorry, it's just... within the first paragraph, you get how uber-into the noir-speech Akers is; or at least is trying to convey. Short clipped sentences. Darkly described imagery. Fucktons of Proper Nouns of Specialness.
This book does what I consider a literary crime, which is it doesn't make me ask anything important like "what happens next" or "why does that happen". Instead, it makes me put the book down and concentrate on toilet time. Toilet time is the most sacred of uninterrupted reading places, and I'd rather think about that
rather than actually read.
First, it's asking a lot to of the reader to give a crap (sorry, no pun intended) to care about the Scion of Morgon. We have no history with this concept, or whoever Morgon is/was, so it's like asking African natives to give two tugs about Christ; there's no concept of who this person telling you about this other person is, so why should there be any caring? (The Jesus reference isn't far off, Morgon is some sort of dead-god thing that's talked about constantly but given little to grasp on to).
Second, it's really
trying to give you it's all in regards to the steampunk genre. Really, really trying. There are descriptions of things that, while "totally cool", are just, when you think it though, are just kinda stupid. Like the sword sheath idea; it's not just a leather or metal sheath to house a sword (the sword itself, if anything like the cover, is off itself), it instead imagines a weired spider, claw, grasping-idea that, again, sounds cool but when you actually imagine it, comes across as too much Rule of Cool and not enough, "but why?" Remember the scene in Spider-Man 2 when Doc Ock's spinal arms attach to his spine? How the indiviual segments closed around or along the spinal column? It's that, to a sword, and every time you remove or resheath it. Seems a little overdone, don't it?
Like a lot of such books, it tries to claim the ever-ellusive, if even existing, title of "quentessential steampunk title". Which turns out to be exactly what people who don't like steampunk describe it as; all glit and form and little actual function. Aesthetic over purpose. And that in turn leads us into-
Third, and most major, it's narrative voice is way
overdone. Think of the most stereotypical hardboiled detective narrator you can being even more stereotypical, and you got the voice Ruin
. Short sentences. Aggitated voice, like the book is annoyed at having to tell you anything. This overimpending sense of darkness, where there really shouldn't be one yet.
And finally, bad editoral sense. A page or two after getting two characters walking and talking, suddenly there's a scene break and four thick paragraphs describing the city and a bit of the history. Just, the fuck outta nowhere, dropped on your head. And it has no, NO bearing on anything it follows or preceeds. That's what really got me, that single section right there. It breaks narrative flow for information that does us no good.
Worse, it contradicts itself, in the same chunk-blown paragraph
. I had to reread the same part five
times before I just tossed my hands up and moved on; it's all I could do, otherwise I'd still be there trying to figure it out. It was someone asking me to find the beginning of a Mobius strip made of frying bacon still in the pan behind my back. I can only take so much.
Add on some weird uses of the same word ("I do not think it means what you think it means), even more Proper Goddamn Nouns, and I swear a character with sentence-by-sentence mood whiplash, I just can't continue with this right now. I have The Serpent Sea
, which is the sequel to a well imagined fantasical world (I can't really call it a "fantasy" world, it's too beastial for that) and the ever-talked about Hunger Games (weird how it doesn't feel wrong to not italize that, isn't it?) so I'm not lacking of words.
And I'm finally getting a writing flow back again, so let's see where this ship sails.
OH MY GOD I SAW THE NEW LEGEND OF KORRA EPISODE
I WANT THE NEW SERIES SO BAD YOU HAVE NO IDEA LIKE SERIOUSLY NOW NOW NOW!
Anyone remember that YA thing I was working on, Butterfly Massacre? Anyone? No? Really?
Well, can't blame you, as I've been pretty mum about... well, most everything lately.
But as I think I've finally gotten most of my computer issues worked out - finally - I've been able to get back to poking at like one pokes a dead body with a stick. Namely, from a distance, ready to hightail it the moment it becomes the zombie you know its going to once it feels the prod of woodenness.
Angela, my fairly anti-Twilight anti-heroine, I've discovered, is very angry. As in, she doesn't just not suffer fools gladly, she'll go for the throat at the first acceptable instance - which, if she had her way, would normally involve a preemtive strike.
*total side note: Only Love on the Bombay Dreams musical is pretty haunting. Thank you, Pandora*
Okay, enough of that tangent. Angela; always ready to defenestrate someone. And you wouldn't want anything to happen to your fenestrates, would you? (bonus points to anyone who gets that reference).
Part of getting steady internet back is getting a mass of different blogs back, and small part of those were YA situated. The YA-female, like almost always, is constantly *ooooh, Van Canto's Pathfinder... sorry* being accused - usually with merit - of being weak willed, jelly-spined, and more than willing to move aside so the male-love interest can handle everything off screen during that important chapter where the female passes out somehow.
And in my head, amongst all the other voices, I see/hear Angela in similar situations; at school, one-on-one, whatever, and she is... wow, the girl has some *cough*hell*cough*fire in her.
Also something that's been a topic that I missed (or at least it seemed to be brought up a lot during the time I was going through stuff) was that of the Broken Bird. Trope it, I already lost a weekend to it and was not made better for it. Essentially, the BB is, nomially, a female who puts on the shade of a badass, but who trully is yearning for boy-parts to make her whole; be those parts simply his heart or more south is deteriminable by how quote-unquote shocking said work is trying to be.
But the main part is that BBs have a troubled past; something that, apropo, "broke" them. The thing they hide so later they can reveal it in a dramatic and soul-healing way to the love-interest to show how much they've bonded/trust him/how damaged she is so the dude can kiss it all better.
And this is important to me, because, if you tag-search past BM posts, Angela has a... *ahem* past. But what I want for her is to not have it define her; well, to the point that it already does. She doesn't share the story, but really, why should she? It's hers, and it's a hell of a story. Not only is it personal, it actually is the purpose to her hunt. And what I want to get across is that, this broke her long ago - but, she's already accepted and gotten over it.
She's been on Earth as a demon for, I gather, about 70-odd years. That's not counting the centuries spent in Hell, where she first got her bad news (no, going to Hell was not the bad part (you know, mostly)). So she's had, you might say, a bit of time to ponder and navel-gaze about her situation. So by the time my story commenses, she is well aware of the ramifications. She know's exactly why it happened. And she accepted it.
What she doesn't want, or even need, is someone to think that her anger, pride, and forthright want to knee people in the sack when they annoy her is that it's a show, a mask to hide insecurity or hurt. That simply by exposing herself, either literally or figuritively, in a moment of tension or weakness it can all be made better. It's simple; people annoy her. She's been alive - or at least, existed - long enough to just be exhausted with the multitude of stupid shit people do in the name of... whatever. And while she doesn't hate everyone or everything, she's bored with the act of not saying or acting upon how she feels.
Which is what drives the (BIG quotes here) "relationship" between her and Victor; she'd rather she be able to just kill him, take the penalty, and keep moving rather than deal with his douche-y act and presence. He brings nothing to her table than someone to protect, because he cannot handle what her world is about. And that pisses her off just a mite.
Which'll be good drama (I should be writing this downoh wait-) for them. But my writer voice, the one that only I hear, keeps whispering "broken bird syndrome" and I get the brain-hives thinking I'm following the trope by trying to not follow it.
But then I just tell myself, "Don't fucking write her stupid then". Also, "Get a Chipolte burrito", both being sound advice. And that's what it'll come down to; writing the story, and character, in a way that you can see why she's annoyed by most things around her, and having a full, steak-burrito filled stomach.
My fears for the character are only my own, and I have the ability to make sure she doesn't come off like so many others. To let her enjoy and relish her anger, her cynical bite, her wan-ton go-to impulse of "punch it first, ask it questions if it survives/finishes crying". And not make her unlikable. Because I'd hate to go so far to the other side of anti-Bella that I circle back on the problem.
4) Prompt: a hostage situation
"I think negotiations have broken down,” I said, holding my forehead in my hands. Dealing with this woman was giving me a headache.
"The hell they have, I'm still willing to deal."
I glared at her, trying to not let her see my fists being balled under the table. "Your 'deal' is the same thing it's been since we started; you haven't budged at all!"
She shrugged, smiling condescendingly . "I said I'm willing to deal, not to change my demands. It's you who won't just give in."
“What you’re asking for is way beyond what I want! It’s too much!” I growled at her. Time was running out; checking the clock, there was only five minutes until it would be too late.
“Nothing’s too much to the person who wants what I have,” she said, her Cheshire grin getting bigger.
I considered my options; give in to what she wanted, be a damned fool, and at the same time be a hero. Refuse; walk into a living room of friends and family, tell them I failed, and have the parlor of death hang over our heads. Joy
She sat up straighter, apparently not thinking I’d give in. “You sure? No going back on this?”
“Yes, yes, just give it to me.”
“Two weeks washing dishes, no using the machine? Foot rubs anytime I want for a month? Date night at a place that doesn’t include the words ‘steak’, ‘bar’, or ‘grill’? Those cute shoes I saw yesterday?”
“Yes, damn you, yes, I said yes, will you give me the damn remote already?!”
She sighed, a little disappointed her fun was over, and slid the TV remote across the table. God, she was cutting it close, kickoff was in two minutes. She got up and went to the fridge. “Remember, you spill it, you clean it, and tell John to keep his boots off the coffee table this time.”
“I hate you.”
She smiled sweetly and kissed my cheek. “I love you too honey.”
I grabbed the remote and stood up, mumbling something under my breath and walked into the living room. Fifteen pairs of eyes of looked at me expectedly. I held the remote up, triumphantly.
“Ladies and gentlemen;
we have football.”( The listCollapse )