Allow Me To Sharpen My Quill

Ramblings Post #421
With age comes wisdom. Or regret. If given the option, I suggest you chose wisdom, as regret is messy and can't easily be fixed. It leaves you pondering What ifs and Could Have Beens. Whereas wisdom could involve a number of things including riches, adventures, great memories, hospital bills, weird scars, limps and the ability to confidently snort when somebody says something you've seen from the wrong end of an extended conversation in a language you don't understand. Don't ask, just accept this wisdom.   

Imagination should feel real. 

So, my brother ran some of my writing through AI and apparently I'm pretty good. I think. Well, maybe. Okay, I'm not completely sure. 

Let me explain. 

I've been writing, mostly for myself, since I was young. I started on the back of old unused ticket books in the back of my father's business and have since graduated to word-processor, although I still for some reason keep my copious notes and ideas on the backs of envelopes and post it notes. It's weird, I am well aware, because I have purchased notebooks to keep my notes in. But there is something about a scribbled note on the back of something. I'll even fold a blank sheet of paper in half to simulate an envelope. I really need to stop that. 

In any case, my brother was evaluating his own writing and constructed a rather elaborate prompt to give himself some feedback. Then I guess as a control, he ran something I sent him - I sent it to see if it held up as a story - and out popped a "review." It was only the first half I think, so it's kinda truncated in its evaluation, but I'm curious.  First, reading through that evaluation did get me to start my next draft, so if that was his plan -- it worked. Second, the output gives me a bit a pause, because reading it and then going back to the actual text I see a few "questionable items" in the critique. Which is odd, because it's the much vaunted AI, and I didn't think it was supposed to make the "errors" that it made. 

The story in question is alternate history fiction set in the 60s. And since our hero is black there should be some tension felt. One of the scenes involves my main character and a new friend bonding over rebuffing a character making racist statements. The AI saw this as giving my character encountering a chance properly address racism, which is true in part. But the scene was mostly to show how this world in which the story differs from our own, referencing several historical changes while avoiding an exposition dump. So, some of what it missed is that nuance, which I would expect it to miss. My issue is that AI confused the location with another setting, as the exposition/confrontation took place chapters before where the AI thought it did. 

Later, one of the supporting cast is encouraged to broaden how they view events by someone who has been in a similar situation. Up until that point, the supporting character had been narrowly focused as a contrast to the main, and I needed something to get there viewpoint to take on the broader scale of the story. The AI read it as a scene where a strong character got unneeded encouragement, undercutting them, not as a headstrong character being enlightened as why her focus was misdirected. It's not as egregious as the first critique, as again it's a nuance that I wouldn't have expected the Machine Learning to catch. And the suggestion I re-write or excise the entire character was troubling. So the AI wasn't quite the reviewer it originally looked to be. 

It also missed what I thought were pretty obvious early red flags for how my villain was shaped. It called them too "likeable" which was the whole point - the character was supposed to be a certain type of charming before the rug pull. So I'm not sure how to take that at all - properly disguised? Hidden so well the Machine couldn't see it? Poorly written? Ugh. 

But..., it did say I had a deft touch for story telling and comedy, as well as some promising talent that needed a good editor. Which I did like (insert schoolgirl giggle here). I appear to be a sucker for flattery. Appearances are not deceiving. In any case, I need my text in hand and printing out the bones of my current draft cost way more than I expected at FedEx this morning, so I need to get my printer fixed or get a new one. And after my morning duties - exercise, breakfast, search, clean - I will shortly be back at authoring. Attempting to author. Writing. 

Barkeep. Ice water. I need to keep my head clear. And three shots of whiskey. I need my imagination hot. 

I'm just talking about Westworld

Ramblings Post #348
Good TV makes you sit down and watch. You might have scheduled it, or however we do it nowadays, but you pay attention. You look at it take the familiar tropes and shine them up all new. No, it's not new TV, but damn if it don't look it. It makes you think about things that most TV doesn't, about things in the bigger picture, even when it's focused on something that on it's face looks stupid. That's good TV. Or least, that's what it's supposed to be.

“Arnold and I designed every part of this place. It was our dream. Did you really think I would let you take it from me?”
~ Robert Ford

Shogun World. Doesn't really roll off the tongue like West World, but I see what you did there. Interesting. We've been waiting this. And just like the questions started in my head: Was this also controlled at the "mesa" or was that just a showroom we saw earlier? If not, would the "mesa" for this area be a sacred mountain? Lee worked for Ford but he says also wrote the stories for Shogun World, so did Ford have dominion over this world (as well as all the other worlds), or did he focus solely on his version of the old West? Just how big is this damned island, I mean, that's an honest-to-god mountain in the distance. Is that this park's 'mesa'?

West world just keeps sprawling and sprawling, both with story and scenery and I wonder if they're really going for the whole Game of Thrones for real or if I was just playing. After all, there are still three parks to go and you can't even see one from the other. And story-wise, while the Delos immortality program fleshed out the why, some of these new characters *cough* William's daughter, are just being on boarded for when the older principals decide to move on. And by the way, I'm over the whole story switching back and forth in time thing. Like totally over it. The first episode was cool set up but just tell me the story already. Okay, the Delos interlude was needed, but I don't need to see William's daughter as a teen in the park at some point. If the story is worth telling then teasing the ending doesn't make it more worth telling.

But enough griping, this is some good ass TV. A little intrigue, a call back to something you halfway overlooked in the first season, a story nudge, some character building. And ninja! Okay, the ninja was a little over the top, but who doesn't love ninja? The more I watched them in a stylized feudal Japan more I had to ask myself what audience was this all was targeting and just how far off track was this ride? 

Unlike Sweetwater, which was littered with bodies when Delores and Teddy rode back into to town, the Japanese "home village" had clean streets. What happened here? Or rather, what might not have happened here? Lee's explanation that Shogun World is for people who found West World too tame sounds weak. The culture this simulation seeks to re-create was fairly formal, rigid and precise as shown in the Akane's civilized conversation rituals. It almost seems like this would the more sedate alternative to the buck wild wild west game just on the other side of the forest. But it stands to reason that the game with difficulty supposedly set on Death-March would cost more, so there would be less guests overall in this part of the park. Still the serenity was just weird. And as a game player I have to ask how can you re-write the same story for the higher difficulty level when it plays exactly the same? 

Um, that piece at the beginning, in the now, I'm starting to think Bernard is still broken or that Elise sabotaged him? That was just the old throw five more mysteries on the pile to keep them prestige writing embers smoking. The hosts were wiped like new? Factory reset as it were? As though the identities have been destroyed or - maybe, possibly stored somewhere for later? Right, whatever. Tell the damn story already! 

Now, the part where my thinking gets funny, or I've been reading to many reddit threads in the Westworld sub. I don't think Delores is completely awake. In my opinion, Delores is where Mauve was at the end of the first season - running a program that makes her think she's there, but she isn't. This may be Ford's last push before letting her loose. This gets tricky, so stay with me. Mauve is the most awake, as evidenced by her deviation from her 'infiltrate the mainland' instruction when she got off the train station. Further, being able to see herself from the outside in Shogun World has her 'thinking' about who she was and her 'story.' Now she's about to expand and re-purpose abilities that her creator imbued into her. It's kind of a glorious arc, one of growth and self discovery.

By contrast, Delores seems locked in on vengeance for her 'suffering.' There is a group following her in her Wyatt persona because that's how they're programmed, but she hasn't earned their loyalty. Her plan is all destruction with some magical exit strategy. She's focused on a particular destination that's supposed to fix everything, which where the story starts to sound familiar. And while there are moments of lucidity, like her examining her feelings for Teddy, this feels more like a path she's set to follow where she gets to stretch, but isn't fully her own. She's treating the other hosts much like she was treated as a host, using them for her own ends which is depressing for someone supposed to be 'awake.' The characters in West World are only really free when they exceed their instructions or they run out. The question is: when Ford turned on her Wyatt persona, what were the plans and exactly how far out did they go?

We're halfway there, kids. Barkeep, I say we next see Mauve as the shogun - and you know her daughter doesn't remember her. Who wants to put $5 on it?     

Not Feeling the Zombie Apocalypse

Ramblings Post #217
Chase your dreams. Or at least try to look at them from time to time. Dreams are your brain running checks in the system, exposing you to things you were even afraid to think while awake. But don't over do it, sometimes you brain just spits out stuff. Let it go.

Walking Dead Shot - So wrong. The highway on the left leads to Freedom Park, the bridge in the distance is 85/75 and leads out of town. The traffic should be on other side of the road trying to get out, not heading to brunch.

Last night I had dreams about zombies. Not once, but three or four times. It was like a triple feature where I went from scenario to scenario, at one point hiding out in a tower - with trash bags in the corridor and brewing beer in hanging bottles(?) - to being back at my parents house praising the loss of power because it meant we could spend more time doing things that were actually important. Oddly, I saw no zombies, but the people in my dreams talked about them a lot. It was one of those things you want to try to interpret, but don't know where to start. Or just not.

I don't particularly like zombies. First, I'm not a big fan of horror. When I was younger I found horror films funny (I cheered for the monster) but the latest breed of horror creations I find too gory. It's how creative can I get without any heart. Sporty and I used to go see them, but only because she wanted to. Watching movies waiting to be scared isn't something I enjoy.

The other reason I don't like zombies is that I think that it's intellectually lazy to use them. As a writer, I think one of the keys of good storytelling is that both the protagonist and the antagonist have viable and believable stories. The villain has to want something - revenge, money, power, etc. to give the hero something to do. And the hero has to have a reason to stop them. Bad villain? Lackluster motivation? Hero involved for no reason? The whole story suffers. The use of zombies sadly eliminates the need for that whole construct. Zombies just want to feed. No ego, no motivation, no plan that has to be worked out or scenario to create to make them believable. Just say they exist and boom, you're done. Even better, all the hero needs to do is kill them, with no real other plan. Sometimes the author gives the hero destination to reach "safety" but the use of zombies is as lazy as sticking vampires into the tale. 

So I don't watch the Walking Dead, nor am I particularly excited about the upcoming movie World War Z and I look past the cover of video games that offer hordes of zombies to blow away. Lazy. The last zombies I liked were on South Park, where it turned out you weren't supposed to kill them! Oops.

Barkeep. Do you have anything with universal themes, strong characters, inventive writing? Oh, you serve drinks, not books? Oh, well pity me then, and not a lot of ice.

A Short...short...story.

Ramblings Post #183
Suddenly it bursts forth. Little bits of inspiration. Bits of mental images to fill in the blank spots that are the stories in progress in my mind, those stories half written, outlined or started and never finished. Little shorts. Little scenes that encapsulate the moment. Poetry, from an age long ago when everything was pure and hope stared me back in the eye every morning instead of leaving a note promising his return.


A Great Evening.

A noisy restaurant, but all the sound has faded away.
An empty wine glass.
A dark whiskey.
Napkins covering plates.
Deep, easy, conversation.
Her smile.

Ahhh...

Sure is crowded in here

Ramblings Post #126
Got a lot to do, and I'm wasting every second I can. I am horrible at time management, a procrastinator extraordinaire. And I could be so much better. I have been so much better, so why couldn't I again? But then, if we got everything done, what would be left to do. What happens when we run out things to do, places to go, people to see? I don't think I'll run out, but I'm not too eager to find out what happens whey you do.

When the idea comes...it comes.

I write too much.

Or rather I have too much going on in my head, and I'm not writing enough.

I just realized I have too many writing projects going at once. Other than this blog, I have five novels I'm slowly working through, including one sci-fi trilogy (counts as one really long story), two semi political works of general fiction, a semi mystery story and one plain screwball comedic romp. Okay, I've been working on all of them for quite some time, I might finish one before I'm ninety.

Then there are the short stories which pop in my head at the odd time which just keep hammering at my thoughts until I take the time to put them to paper. Currently there are about a half dozen or so. Then add in re-writes. And when I take the time to put one in print, then another crops up like a weed, doing the same thing. Tapping on my brain.

The poetry just comes when it comes. And when it comes I just write it. The stories about Sporty and I, they're really just extremely creative letters that are some of my fantasies put to paper. And every time I think about them there are more.

There is the video game I want to design, Nights in Sri Carpia, a hybrid of the GTA sandbox style and Far Cry with a running time-line outside of player actions. Ask a gamer, its too difficult to explain here.

The movie - Breakroom - of which the script is 80% done, the TV mini-series - The Evolution of a Dog (HBO or Showtime) outlined. The other movies - Gamer, Return of the Iguana and Lottery Luck (aka Loser) are framed all the way through, I just need to fill in the dialogue. There are at least three to five other projects I haven't worked on for a few years that pop out from time to time. For some of these I just need a meeting with somebody with cash to gamble on a idea man with no actual film making experience. Hey they made 2012, don't laugh.

I should include the semi autobiographical story Atlanta by Martini in the list of novels, but I'm not sure how I want to take the story and make it work. It could either be a novel or black male version of Sex in the City with even more drama and more sex. As if that were possible. Now that I think about it, I might make that a fictionalized blog with story updates. Oh the possibilities.

Then include the rewrites of stuff I've seen that I have the audacity to believe I could do better. This includes music videos, movie scenes and TV shows.

Now, this is all going on at once. In my head. Everyday.

And at the end of all that, or rather on top of all that...I also got law school looming. Which is all reading and brief writing, as well as a specific style of writing I'm going to need to practice. My legal writing is weak at best.

Now with all this happening, you might have guessed, nothing ever gets finished. Well, the little stories to Sporty get finished, but little else. I'll get into one and every time something else will crop up in mind, a new wrinkle I want to expand or an idea for a new story, or an angle. I once got an idea for a story watching a woman walk out of a store. It's not what you think. From watching her hips I imagined an overweight waitress, which grew into a story of a cafe of lunchtime, where three groups end up at lunch - one a couple trying to save a relationship, another a trio of woman where one gets a promotion and drama ensues, and two comedians for comedy relief. Add in the staff stories and the odd visitor... it seems I forgot one. This is Lunchtime, a film I wanted to make like 10 years ago. So add another film. It was reworking this one, which still exists as a separate property, that I jump started the idea for Breakroom.

I'm almost scared to look at old notes for fear another story or idea or movie concept I've forgotten will pop out and suddenly I'll want to re-write and update, and be lost on yet another tangent. Just thinking of all of them has me vaguely remembering two or three more of whom the details are a little fuzzy. Which is bad.

Think about this. As much as used to hang out. And as much time as I waste on the internet and watching TV...I should be done with these. Several times over.

Not gonna dwell. Just gonna keep writing.

Barkeep, something to lubricate the imagination.

A proper hello

Her breath shuddered, from anticipation or excitement she wasn't sure.

His palm on her thigh made it's way up to cup her chin slowly, the pressure of his palm and fingertips thrilling her. His hand never left her body as it made the trip, the heat of hand left her thigh and moved up to her hip, pausing for a moment on her the full ripe apple of cheek. It circled her waist in a detour, the small of her back, then slid glacially up her side, touching the spots most other men would pass over, fingertips dancing.

At her bra strap he paused for a moment, and for a instant she wondered why she'd even wore one. That roving hand traced the line around to her breast, the flat of his palm against the fabric causing a deep gasp. It lingered only for a second, just long enough for her to imagine his hand there without the fabric, just long enough to kick up the heat just another tick. Fingers now guiding, his reach fanned out across her upper chest, and taking care not get lost in her collar, reached her neck.

From the front, his hand slid along the nape, just above her shoulder, that lone hand circling her to the back, the moist heat of it now clearly felt where before the clothes had denied her that last sensation. A finger touched her spine, then even more slowly the hand started forward again, the fingernail of the thumb on her lobe sliding, the light touch of just the tips on the supple flesh of her neck. His finger kept forward until with just the curl of his finger held her chin.

His eyes had never broken contact with hers, his hand hand traveled into view almost on instinct, the pathway of desire on her body clearly marked.

"Hey you" he breathed. His breath was minty mixed with touch of lemon.

"Hey you," she smiled back, trying to gather herself after his nearly intimate hello.