Vanished off the face of the planet...

Wow, it's been a while. Mood? Stressed. Not too bad, but I'm on the run. (and hungry like a wolf....)

I'm working as a programmer now, on a mainframe database that was first built when I was less than two years old. Even for a baby like me (only a quarter of a century!), that's kind of dating the system. I'm working like a dog on this, trying to catch up with the other programmers.

Also, did I mention I wrote a play, I'm going to be acting a minor part in it, and trying to work out my creative differences with the director? Yeah, she and I end up clashing a lot, and I'm kind of a jerk on my good days. Worse, she's a good friend, and I really don't want to start trouble--we have trouble-makers in the cast who jump on any friction as a good time to drag the play down. By drag down I mean goof off during rehearsals, skip rehearsals, etc. So I'm trying to present a united front while also giving voice to my ideas. It means being a balanced, mature individual and keeping the dialog civil. I hate doing that. It makes me feel old.

Also, buying the house is proceeding on schedule.

Also, the director of my play is tapping me to write, film and edit a documentary in my spare time. (ha ha ha!)

And, in case that's not enough, there's my writing. (oh, woe!)

All this personal update is just to let you know why I'm feeling a little rushed for breath. So, for writing, let's talk about the Fantastic Four movie, what was wrong, what was right, why fans are unsatisfied, and why they shouldn't be.

First of all; what was wrong? Well, bad writing. I'm analyzing this movie as a writer, for writers, so let's all be honest. If you find yourself in a position where you need a plot twist to make the movie go better, and that convenient plot twist involves a battle in the air, that's nice. If it's so convenient it'll make people's teeth hurt, it's too much. If it involves science and the best you can do is some technobabble that's so unconvincing nobody buys it, you've wasted your time. Also, if you have a villain everybody loves, somebody seminally evil, don't you think you owe it to yourself to give them enough screen time to really, really shine?

What was right? Well, the writers did a couple of things I approve of. First of all, they ignored the Thing. The first movie was his; he didn't need further development. They focused on developing the character who needed the most growth, the hot-headed Johnny Storm. We need to remember that it's our most flawed characters who are the most interesting, who have the most potential for change, for reflection. The ones that are written in stone (ha! pun!) don't need it. Secondly, the writers focused on the sad tragedy of the Silver Surfer in exactly the right ways. Thirdly, they did develop Dr Doom in such a way that you got to know just a little more about him--just a little. A castle in Latveria? A quest for power? A hankering for revenge? Tastes, nothing more. If they come back for a third movie, they better pay that off with some big Doom.

Why are fans unsatisfied? Because they want more Superman, more Batman, more X-Men, and FF has never been about those. This is a story about a family. A family under siege in every way. A family that needs to figure out what being celebrities means for their lives, and needs to save the world. This is more sit-com than superhero. This is more about Sue's relationship with Reed than the end of the world. The Fantastic Four comic books have always known this.

By the by; my favorite Fantastic Four comic book? The one-shot about a PR man brought in to 'reboot' their image. All throughout the guy is confused as to why he's there, and Sue accuses Johnny of bringing him on board because he's a showboater. Johnny is, of course, offended, as he didn't bring him on. The dude is expecting super heroes, and finds a family. He's surprised. Most of them don't want the public eye, but here they are, center stage.

Cut to the end of the comic book. Reed is all along with his child, making faces. Ever the absent-minded jokester. (I think it's Franklin, as a baby, but I might be wrong) He says, "let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a very smart man..." His story stops, and for a second we see torment on his face. He starts over. "Once upon a time there was a very stupid man, and he turned his friends and family into monsters, into freaks. And he knew that if they tried to hide from the world like mutants that his friends would be hated and feared, that they could never live normal lives. He knew that the only way they could ever have anything close to normal lives ever again was to push them into the public eye, to make people love them. It might be hard, but love is better than hate; so he bought a very big building, and put them in silly costumes, and did everything he could to make sure that the world knew that these were heroes, not villains, and that they were good people. And he hopes that maybe someday he'll be able to make up for what he's done to them." He stops there and stares into the distance. "Maybe."

To me, that was the best comic ever. It cuts right to the root of it. Are these people to be feared? No. They want everybody to know they're just a family trying to save the world.

That's why this movie works, in my humble opinion. A smaller, more personal scope; a fun, family-oriented super-hero movie; and, of course, a more personal movie.

Naysayers may say what they like. I know this is no Spiderman, no Batman, but it's not supposed to be. This is something all its own, something true to the original.

That's what writers need to do. You don't need to copy the successful formula. You need to find the core, the message that is all your own, the sensibility that's all your own. You need to let it loose, fling it out there. You need to be true to that core message. You need to be... dare I say it? You need to be fantastic.

Heros and villains

A villain is often different from a hero only in that they have a fallacious world view.

I turn now to the great movie Serenity...

When Book urges Mal to 'believe in something... I don't care what, just believe!', it feels like the rallying cry of the movie. You can do great things if you believe! If you believe in people, in God, you can get through, you can get it done!

Problem: the Operative is the True Believer here, not Mal or Book. He believes in the justice and rightness of his cause, and it enables him to do great things. Awesome things. He can pull together a fleet, he can track down threats to this world, he can force Mal's hand. He can do almost anything. He can slaughter people.

He has awesome power.

But... (big word, eh?) his belief is in something fallacious. His belief undermines itself. His belief is almost completely wrong. His belief is in something that we know is in fact monstrous. The Alliance, although it is great in the sense that it does BIG things, is terrible. It does great ill. His ideas are flawed.

Belief enables us, but a belief in something wrong puts us in a position to do terrible things.

The Operative is the worst kind of bad guy. A man who has thought, a man who is reasoned. A complete character capable of the worst brutality because he knows it's for a greater good. He is Mal, if Mal believed in the Alliance. He is Book. He is the greatest character, with a flaw in his reasoning making him more monster than man.

All villains should be like him. Full of powerful emotions. Full of power and ability. With one little flaw in their reasoning, a poison pill that destroys them.

So, therefore...

If every character thinks they're the main character then they will have motivations. Possibly heroic ones turned sour, or revenge, or whatever. But you need each character to come together as a fully formed character by giving them a complete story.

However, this puts you in a quandary. What do you do when you realize that your villain really does have a better reason than the hero, and was the good guy all along? After all, your hero did kill his father, even if accidentally.

Well, maybe you just wrote a book that blurs the lines and shows some reality about revenge. A book that has a greater moral point than just a shoot 'em up.

Once you start giving each character their own life a complexity arises that you may not be ready to handle. A wonderful complexity that is vibrant and joyful.

Seriously.

Every character is their own hero.

This is a blatant ripoff of another person's blog post, but it was so true I had to share it.

Every character in your novel thinks the story is about them.

Think about this, Star Wars style.

Han knows he's the hero. The macho man who charges in, gun in hand, to save the day and the girl? Even if he's only in it for the paycheck, he's the hero.

Chewie knows he's the hero. The soft-spoken powerhouse who is a great, supportive friend? Oh, yeah.

Leia knows she's the hero. The plucky gal leading a rebellion, with no time for friends or love because she's so driven?

Darth Vader thinks he's the hero. The tragic figure who loses his wife in his fight to restore order to the galaxy.

Palpatine thinks he's the hero. A thinking/philosopher who has put away an outdated form of government to put in a new one that is more powerful and more unified, with no senseless debate.

Jabba knows he's the hero. He knows it. He's just trying to survive in this world, and have some fun along the way.

Reader expectations

Imagine for a minute that you've written a book with an incredibly complicated character. Now imagine you're writing a sequel, and the only thing that makes sense to you is to have them be featured much less in the sequel, despite the eventual furor the fans will make.

At some point the commercial concerns of selling the book and satisfying the readers takes precendence over artistic vision. If you believe otherwise, you're going to starve. Plain and simple.

How far do you go? Do you toss away your entire vision of the book to make it fit into other people's dreams? Do you obey every whim of the shippers, and match up the characters, no matter how out of character it is for them?

My favorite examples are, of course, the responsive television shows. Shows where a bad guy of the week can show up, captivate audiences, and win themselves a continuing starring role. Shows where a bad guy can be so compelling the audience demands they continue to be the bad guy... and they do.

Conversely, what about too responsive shows? Shows that drop characters fans hate. Shows that change mid-step to keep up with fan opinion. Shows that are so responsive the fans might as well be writing them. Call it fanservice, or call it spinelessness; your artistic vision is ruined. Is what you create then better or worse than your original vision? It could go either way, but it's no longer truly yours, and that's what we're really looking for, isn't it? Something to call ours. Something nobody else can claim.