Frustration, Concluded

Now I said that I had learned something from this ultimately frustrating experience. And I suppose that nothing is a waste if something is learned of it.

What I learned is that High Fantasy is the cheapest, easiest, most unimaginative form of fiction in existence.

What brings me to this conclusion?

William Goldman says, essentially, that a writers main objective is to write himself into a corner, into a box that he can’t easily get out of. Because it is then that you become truly creative. You are forced to wade through the clichés and the contrivances in order to reach the creatively original solution to your dilemma.

High Fantasy operates outside of any such limitation. Got a problem? Just us magic. There is a spell for everything. Insurmountable odds? Don’t worry, a dragon will swoop out of the sky for no logical reason and deliver you. Fortunately there is no spell to make an author a better writer, or a dragon to bear him to the land of GloriousInspiration.

The other thing that I noticed was how much fantasy has been influenced by The Lord of the Rings. Now don’t get me wrong. I love The Lord of the Rings. And infact have been thinking on a LOTR inspired story for some time. What I am talking about are the storys that range from pure knockoffs, to what this work is. Not a pure copy, but containing enough similar points as to be obvious: like the assimilation of a company of heroes to combat a similar number of adversaries; the "dragon crown" with the power to rule over the world, much like the "one ring" in LOTR; a man who was "raised" by the elves; etc. ad infinitum.

I wonder how Tolkien feels about this. I wonder if he would be happy for inspiring people to create similar works of fancy, or if he would be appalled by the monster that has come into existence in his wake.

My final quip has to do with titles. Mainly, what Mr. Stackpole titled his books. Or perhaps, what the Publishers titled his books.

The two most important attractants, after word of mouth referral, are Title and Cover. The title and cover of a book are what draws the reader in. They are what makes you stop and look closer. And in this case, it was both that got me started. The art on the first two books was very good, the third not so much, and the titles where a complete misleading dissapointment

First, there is Fortress Draconis. Now, the name promises an adventure at a fortress called Draconis. But none really ever happened. Oh, the companions do briefly visit said fortress, and one of the secondary characters does wander around in the fortress for a little while, but it never gets enough action to truly warrant the title.

And the second, When Dragon’s Rage just seemed like an outright lie. One gets the image of dragons fighting constantly from page to page while riders on their backs hurl spears and swing swords and axes at each other. When in fact, the actual dragon fights take place over the span of probably three pages. Again, not that I was looking forward to mythical, magical creatures brawling through my imagination, I felt robbed.

And the final installment, The Grand Crusade, while filled with lots of technical stuff (to the point of boring me), when the two "new" leads weren’t pining over each other or lamenting the loss of the Norington, was, as I said earlier, anything but grand. And there was no actual crusade. There was no pressing into the enemies country to conquer and expell. In fact, it was really the Evil Chytrine who was Crusading, and the Southern countries were simply marshaling against her. Now it’s possible that The Grand Crusade was really referencing Chytrine’s endevors, but I do not believe that, nor was there anything in the work to suggest it.

Now, I’m not saying that the title of books should be lifted dirrectly from the pages of the work; but it can’t be so abstract that you can’t tie the two together.

The title of these books where the exact oposite of the title of the second most boring mystery that I have ever read: A Safe Place for Dying. Catchy isn’t it? Intriguing, right? That’s why I picked it up. And, in keeping with it’s title, it is about a series of explosions that take place in a very exclusive, very secure, gated community. Unfortunately, I solved the mystery half way through and made myself finish it. But it’s a great title.

At the start of this monster I said that I was interested in finding out what made the current top listed authors great, and I am beginnning to wonder if it is just depravity calling to depravity. Birds of a feather, that sort of thing.

Now you might be wondering: why don’t you just read the other works by authors that you have tried and know are true?

If you are an avid reader you already know the answer: there is only just so much of the same author that you can take before you need a break. And I KNOW that tallent isn’t dead. I know that there are more writers out there writing in the classic, logical, precise, elloquent styles of the 19th/early 20th century masters.

I’m just trying to find them.

As always: Let ‘em rip!

Frustration, Part 8

Now I said that Stackpole’s story was intriguing. And it was. At it’s core, its skeleton, it was a great idea. But the flesh was flabby and the clothing was horrendous.

My main complaint is the treatment of his initial main protagonist. Here is this fifteen year old boy living in the slums, aspiring to be the greatest thief ever, but not likely to reach sixteen. Who gets plucked out of this environment and given a crash course in life, that some would pay for, by two vaunted and fearsome warriors. The truly dynamic character of Will starts out as this callous child who cares for no one, and slowly turns into a young man, beginning to understand that there are bigger things at stake in life than the next heist. He begins to live adventures that he could never have dreamed about in his wildest imagination. He goes from being nothing, to being responsible for the well being of many men who have pledged their live to his service. But in the middle of his development he gets cut off. And instead of metamorphosing into a rounded, new man, he is turned into a lump of animated stone. Literally. I never got to see the fulfillment of Will’s character development

Now, I understand that Stackpole didn’t write his books specifically for me. I also understand that there are a great many things in this world that I will not agree with and that will disappoint me. So don’t worry, I’m not Pollyanna

But THERE ARE some basic fundamentals to story writing.

All storytelling is Conflict and Resolution. A story without conflict is boring.

The Resolution of the Conflict must be proportionate to, if not greater than the Conflict.

In order to be engaging, a story must contain Dynamic characters.

Heroic characters in a story MUST be dynamic.

Dynamic, at its simplest means "change." And the vehicle of change is Conflict. It is in Conflict that the nature of the character is revealed.

And the character of Will was being exposed, scrubbed, and recreated. And after nine hundred pages, I was left with two supporting characters that could only ever be described as static. And they became Stackpole’s new focus.

I am left to surmise that the then late forty, almost fifty year old author became bored with the fifteen year old main character; the strongest character of the entire bunch, and instead preferred to focus on the forty year old Crow and his twenty-five year old contrived wife.

Hmmmmm..

For my part, I wasn’t interested in the moral perturbations and subsequent meandering of two flat, static characters.

" ‘But I’m old enough to be your father . . .’

‘Yes, but love knows no age . . .’

‘Oh, you are so right, my love’ he admitted passionately, as tears welled up in his eyes and flowed down his cheeks into his white beard."

Think I’m exaggerating? Feel free to find out for yourself.

To be continued . . .

Frustration, Part 7

So now you know the general points. Let’s now discuss the important points.

Now, as I read the first book, there was a storm developing in the back of my mind. Something was bothering me and it took probably two thirds of the first book before I realized what the problems were.

While the kernel of his story was intriguing, and some what original, Stackpole didn't give enough detail where it counted. While he would spend sentence after sentence on the description of a characters clothing, it took me seven hundred pages to fully realize that Resolute, the elf that kidnapped Will way back in the beginning, wore his hair in a tall, spiked mohawk. The bad guys, in my imagination, where a kinda colored blur. The grunt soldiers were this kinda black dog/monkey/cat shape and the evil "lieutenants" where a kinda bird like white shape. And it was like that with many things.

The other problem was his voice. How he wrote, was convoluted. It was like being told to go stand on the X and being shown into a room where there was a giant path painted in white on the floor, ever spiraling towards the X at the center and the only thing that prevented me from crossing all the white lines and gaining the X in three simple strides where the instructions: please stay on the path.

Pointless.

Frustrating.

Another problem was his relentless repetition. It drives me to distraction when an author repeats himself, repeatedly (ha!) And I don’t mean the sharing of information between characters within the dialogue. Understandably, if Joe didn’t see what Frank saw, then Joe has to learn of it somehow. I am referencing when the author repeats himself in the narrative, with stenographic detail, time after time after time. I don’t need to be told five times that Slim is six feet four inches tall, and covered in three hundred pounds of finely chiseled muscles (by way of example). I’m smarter than that. And if I’m not, I CAN always look back.

And the third thing that bothered me, was that the series was portrayed as medieval. But no one behaved midieval-esque. Now, I know what you’re asking: How do YOU know what medieval behavior is like? Where you alive back then? Do you have a time machine Mr. No-Published Critic? Do you go back and perform clandestine StarTrekian studies of primitive cultures?

No. But I do know this: they didn’t behave like people do now. A fifteen year old in, say, 1200 was half way to the grave. If it was a girl, she was probably married off. If it was a boy, he was probably looking pretty seriously at getting married and in either case they not only had the ability to function as adults, but many times where expected to. Not so in Stackpole's universe. Teenagers acted like modern spoiled rich kids. Even the characters that were supposed to be hundreds of years old, didn’t behave like it.

To be continued . . .

Frustration, Part 6

Yes, that’s right. Will Norrington, the Scourge of Evil, the Bane of Wickedness Incarnate dies after nine hundred pages of adventuring.

And that is the end of book two. Will dies, leaving his companions dumb struck.

The End.

Or rather "Next book coming soon; I know, I know, Write faster"

So, I didn’t panic. I knew it was going to be a trilogy before I started the second book. I even read the back of the third book to see if it actually belonged to the trilogy, so I knew Will was going to die from page one of book two. I just didn’t know anything about the scenery on the drive there.
But I did know this: I was reading a fantasy.

I finished Book Two thinking, "Okay. They killed him. I knew that was coming. But he has dragon blood in him. He’ll come back some how. Stacky will bring him back some how. Lets find out how."

So, I went to the library and procured The Grand Crusade. And discovered it to be anything but.

The focus of the story was told mainly from that Princess that you’ll remember I could have taken or left, the Golden Wolf (I now remember that her name is Alyx, but I won’t call her that) and Crow.

For half the book they are lamenting the loss of Will the Norrington. Wondering what they are going to do, and doing what ever they have to.

For half the book I am waiting for the return of Will, the one that got me hooked some one thousand pages earlier. For half the book I am waiting for him return and say, "Here I am! Lets go kill the NorWitch!"

And finally, after dragging through two hundred, three hundred pages of Stackpole’s increasingly grating voice (more on that to come) I am finally told that Will’s not dead, he’s just waiting for some of his companions to find him.

Finally. At last.

So some set off to do just that, while others go off to fight in high combat.

Of course I am interested only in the rediscovery of my hero, Will the Nimble, King of the Dims, the Norrington.

And what do I discover? Stackpole has turned him into an enraged golem. At first I think that it really is a golem, in the pure Jewish sense of it being a cocoon, and that Will is incubating within the fire eyed stone monster. Or some such other High Fantasy nonsense. After all, he has dragon blood in him, and, and . . .

Wrong.

Will never does return. He never gets paired with the beautiful Lady Snowflake Isaura, who, though Evil Chytrine’s heir, helps to overthrow her.

Chytrine is killed and the various companions go on to be big muckity-mucks throughout the varied kingdoms. And what is left of Will, or rather what I am supposed to believe is left of Will, goes off into the Far North to relentlessly eradicate the remains of Chytrine’s army.

The End.

I felt so cheated. Robbed. Hood winked. For nine hundred pages I had been following the truly dynamic character that I first discovered hanging from a rope in a rainstorm, waiting to break into the room of the badest dude in the Dims.

And what do I get instead? Some forty-something, scar covered, white haired man named Crow crying like a little girl with a Princess that I found as intriguing a package of steel wool.

I want my money back! Oh, wait . . .

Thank goodness for libraries.

I want my time back! I want my emotional investment back! Oh, well, I didn’t really get in to it that much. In fact, I pretty much had to force myself to finish the last book.

So now you know the general points. Let’s now discuss the important points.

To be continued . . .

The Key to Understanding the Opposition

"While in the short run the once-victimized may need to be deterred in their anger from harming the United States or themselves, in the long run their legitimate grievances must be addressed through a variety of concessions, apologies, or dialogues in order to promote the general peace. That a Hugo Chávez calls Americans "gringos," or Brazil's President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva blames "white, blue-eyed" bankers for the financial mess, or that state-run Palestinian papers refer to Jews as "pigs and apes," or that the Iranian president serially claims the Holocaust is a concoction of Zionists, is all an unfortunate rhetoric of the oppressed (in the same way Reverend Wright once referred to Italians as "garlic noses"), brought on by colonization and exploitation, rather than proof that a large portion of the world beyond our shores is run by racist -and rather loony- people." - Victor David Hanson

This article, President Obama’s First 70 Days is a MUST read.