Burning Anticipation

When I was a kid, I read Dragon Magazine.

I read it a lot.

One of my favorite parts of Dragon Magazine was the fiction. For years - and possibly up until the magazine finally bit the bucket, and was resurrected, and bit the bucket again (I think?) - Dragon featured Dungeons & Dragons-esque short stories. Some of them were explicitly set in D&D universes, others were set in universes that could be D&D, but weren't. Some of them were stand-alones, some of them were parts of serialized epics.

My favorites were a series by Greg Keyes. Fool Wolf was a thief, a liar, and a ne'er-do-well saddled with a dangerous spirit bound into his ribcage by is irresponsible, drunken father. Cast out from his people for crimes committed by the spirit, Fool Wolf wanders a Sword & Sorcery world, looking for adventure, women, money, and the opportunity to rid himself of his unwelcome guest.

For a long time, the tales of Fool Wolf lived in the basement of my brain, occasionally twitching, winking, and throwing iterations up into my higher brain. Certain phrases - "tattoos of singular blackness," "mansion of bone" - stuck in my head.

Then I discovered the collection: Hounds of Ash and Other Tales of Fool Wolf. Time passed, and eventually I made it mine.

I can't wait to read this book. I'll definitely post a review when I have.

Burning Myths, Flying Knives

Check it out: Escape Pod's blog has just published a post exploding the myth of the deadly flying knife.

I'll admit it - I don't know enough about physics to judge this particular post on the merits of its accuracy. However, I do know enough about the modern fantastic cannon to recall Vlad Taltos's entertaining description of thrown knives as a diversionary tactic; they flinch at the flying bit of pointy steel and miss the larger and more dangerous piece of not-so-flying steel headed for their guts. Or, more frequently, the fact that Vlad is headed for the hills.

Now, I'm much more of a creator of fantasies than speculation, even when I write in a science fictional mode, so I'm quite likely to give my heroes an explicitly magical "get out of physics free" card (I'm looking at you Exalted). I'm about as likely to set up my setting with an alternate physics - Heroic Physics, let's call it - in which throwing knives, swinging off chandeliers, or, say, running on the tops of trees are all possible for anyone.

That said, I like to be specific about where and when I depart from reality. I'd rather sit down to write a story thinking "this story will be set in a setting with general background of Heroic Physics, in which this, that, and the other thing are possible, and characters possessed of certain abilities will depart further in these specific ways" than just make mistakes. In that way, articles like this one are very useful.

However, I also have no problems with departing from reality in this way, when it's done clearly, consistently, and carefully. This is a sentiment it doesn't seem like the author of this article shares with me - she calls throwing knives in general "silly" and "cliched." Different strokes and all that. I can bring my throwing knives along when we visit a world that features Heroic Physics and leave them at home when we visit a world with Conventional Physics. It's all good.

NoNoWriMo

I don't really want to dwell on it, but I didn't win NaNo this year. Rat and Starling made it to about 36k, and that's where I died.

Did I say died? I meant came down with the first (and therefore, by definition, worst) sinus infection of my entire pitiful life. I'm still blowing horrifying crap out of my nose once in a while. But I certainly wished I was dead, for a while there.

In the end, despite being very nearly out of commission for a week, I might have been able to finish NaNo. Unfortunately, for the last three days, there has been time to do any three of the following things: go to work, finish my grading - which I didn't get to while I was dying of General NIoD (Nose Infection of Doom) - sleep, and NaNo. Sleep has to happen - whenever I don't sleep the Abigail gets really weird and for some reason and we fight all the time - as does going to work and finishing my grading if I want to stay employed. Something had to give, and what gave was NaNo.

I still didn't get more than three hours of sleep last night. Fucking grading.

Anyway, as I wrote above, I don't want to dwell on the negatives. There's always next year, after all. For now, I will content myself with another year of effort and the fact that there are now thirty-six thousand more words in the world, written by me, that I may someday come back to and make less sucky.

And that, 50k or no 50k, is still an achievement.

Broken Robots, Burning Zeppelins

A... year ago, was it? A year agoish, I played a silly free flash game online. K.O.L.M. Recently, I played the sequel, K.O.L.M. 2. Both games are short, powerful, and incredibly atmospheric, and I recommend them to anyone and everyone, even people who don't normally go in for silly free flash games online.

The premise of K.O.L.M. is that you are a broken robot in a system of underground caves. After an unknown period of time, the voice of your mother prods you into action. You begin by crawling across the floor, the screen a blurry mess, until you find a pair of replacement eyes. Soon you also acquire replacement legs, a gun, the ability to jump, a more powerful gun, the ability to jump even higher, the ability to swim in water, and then in acid, and so on. K.O.L.M. 2 builds on its predecessor with sad little robot's quest to reunite with his father and his sister.

Gameplay focuses on the acquisition of new bits for the little robot. Often you are presented with a puzzle that you just can't solve until you find something that adds some new functionality to the robot. The overall effect is very satisfying - there's nothing quite like watching a puzzle that previously stumped you fall before the awesome might of your new laser or swimming capability - though there are a few moments of frustration.

The game very quickly establishes that something is a bit... off-kilter. I know from passive-agressive mothers, and this mother definitely fits the bill. Definitely much more GLaDOS than Ma Ingalls. The format of the game is classic side-scroller, but instead of the usual smooth transition from frame to frame, each "zone" is a view from a security camera. In addition to being, frankly, just a bit weird, it allows the game to zoom unexpectedly in and out. Trust me - it's hard to explain, but the effect is extremely creepy. Between the mother's creepy dialogue and the weird atmosphere, the game sucks you in very effectively. For best results, play at night. Alone.

I will concede that K.O.L.M. 2 is somewhat weaker than its predecessor. The gameplay introduces two new wrinkles: sunlight pouring in from holes in the ceiling which can harm or even destroy the little robot and, later, the robot and his human sister (now now, that would be telling) cooperating to solve puzzles that the robot couldn't solve on his own. However, the game is much shorter and much more... is linear the right word? Both games are linear, but the first game seemed to have a lot more problem solving and atmospheric wandering, while the second game seemed much more straightforward. Both games - and the third game that I fervently hope for - are certainly worth playing.

I believe that video games are fiction, but I don't normally talk about them because I don't normally play them. The K.O.L.M.s would make a great introduction for someone who doesn't believe. Both games tell a beautiful, sad, and creepy tale that I was very pleased to be a part of.

The Myth They Tell in Vandakar

This is the myth they tell in Vandakar – called the Godless City – that ancient and mist-shrouded place where the streets turn in upon themselves and spiral down into the earth, where wicked secrets can be bought and sold for coin and deed:

Five gods stood together at the dawn of time. Four of them were content to divide the world between them, but one stood apart. He declared himself the king of all the gods, and his name was MAN.

The gods strove against each other, and though MAN was stronger than the others, they combined their might against him and defeated him. They decided to sunder MAN into many parts and scatter him across the face of the earth so that could never again seek to set himself above his siblings. Thus were the races of men born.

Each of the gods cursed the new race in turn.

SHA, who is worshipped in the East as Miryama of the Dawn and the Lady of Spring, cursed mankind with Lust. She divided us into male and female and set out hearts and loins to long for each other. She clouded our thoughts with desire and gave us Jealousy, Gluttony, and Greed

ZAR, who is worshipped in the North as the Summerlord and the Burning Eye of Heaven, cursed mankind with rage. He set our hearts against each other, fanning the flames of Ambition and Revenge.

NOR, who is worshipped in the West as Unuyanu and the Shining One, cursed mankind with Pride. He whispers to us of what we were, and what we might one day be, and so we rise above ourselves so that our hopes are always dashed, and we destroy what we love most.

Last, and most terrible, was KAI, who is worshipped in the South as the Pale Lady, the Queen of Ravens, and the Nameless One. She cursed mankind with death, striking us down before we could come into the fullness of our power and challenge the dominion of the gods.

The discerning know that the gods hate mankind for the arrogance of MAN. They hate us, and so they have crafted the world to destroy us. They fear us, for each of us could one day rise to the power that was once MAN's.

Some chose to worship the gods, hoping that by prayer and sacrifice they can prove their submission. They want to convince the gods that we have learned our lesson, and thus earn MAN’s restoration. Others dedicate themselves to one god, hoping to cast off their birthright as part of MAN and pass totally into that god’s power, becoming a part of that god after death.

Others chose to defy the gods.

Those who defy SHA are the Ascetics. They deny the desires of the flesh, and so achieve mastery of it. They are powerful warriors, striding across the field of battle with skin like plates of iron and muscles like the roots of trees. They are mighty, but they are not the most mighty.

Those who defy ZAR are the Menders. They cast out rage and fill their hearts with peace, learning to accept the world they see. In the power of their peace, they can still violence in the hearts of others and unmake the consequences of violence. They can heal even the most grievous wounds with a touch. Many dismiss them, for peace does not lend itself to rash and overt action, but the Menders are mighty. And yet, they are not the most mighty. 

Those who defy NOR are the Adepts. They break their own minds with humiliation and service and until they cast out the poison of pride within themselves, and thus they achieve mastery of the mind. They can pick secrets from the minds of their enemies and plant false thoughts. They can walk unseen among crowds, hiding themselves from the pride-addled minds of the masses. Though they are mighty, they are not the most mighty.

Those who defy KAI are those who defy death. They are the Necromancers, practitioners of the Dark Art. The dead rise to serve them and the living flee before them. They craft eternal bodies to house their spirits and persist forever, growing more powerful with every passing century. They are the Necromancers and they are the most mighty of those who defy the gods.

That is the myth they tell in Vandakar, the City of the Dead.

• • •

And now, back to NaNo.

Now THAT Was a NaNo Post

Sweet mother of lizards, that was a NaNo post. Was that even mildly coherent? Does it actually mean anything?

I'm tempted to take it down, but... nah. Let's just leave it there. It will stand as a testament of what NaNo does to a body.

For those of you who read it - and maybe even gleaned some meaning out of it? Maybe? - I offer sincere apologies. Hopefully you at least had a laugh.

Watch this space for a review of my latest literary conquest, The Curse of Chalion.

Happy Accidents

I am happy to report that at the end of yesterday (Day 14) of National Novel Writing Month I had 23,945 words - a little more than six hundred words ahead of schedule. Over the course of Day 14, I came up from a significant deficit, writing a little more than four thousand words in a single day. As a result, the last thing I want to do is write - which is why I'm blogging - and the last thing I want to blog about is writing.

So, instead, I'll blog about minis.

But when I blog about minis, I'm really blogging about writing.

When I first got into wargames, I was disappointed to discover that most games use plastic minis instead of metal. There is something deeply satisfying about metal minis. They have a powerful 'clunk' when they hit the table. It's kind of like Go - in ancient Japan, Go boards were designed to produce a satisfying sound when pieces were placed, making the game a full audiovisual experience - but with more death.

Later, after I started playing Warmachine and Hordes and actually had a chance to work with metal, I was happy to discover that most games use plastic minis. Metal is a pain in the ass to work with. It's heavy, so glue isn't enough and you have to pin stuff in place. Pinning stuff in place means drilling holes, in metal, which is also, unfortunately, hard to drill in.

Because, you know, it's metal.

As a result, if you're inexperienced - like I am - the result is often a little hit-or-miss. You aren't quite sure what a model is going to look like until you're done. If a pin settles in oddly, or a piece doesn't quite fit right, you could end up with nearly any kind of pose, from the totally awesome to the... kind of strange. Sometimes you need to work with what you've got, adapting a weirdly assembled model so it will turn out as well as possible.

Plastic, by the way, is much easier to work with. Glue usually does the trick. On the rare occasion that you have to pin it or adjust the shape of a piece, plastic cuts and drills like a dream.

The trick is to be open to happy accidents. A happy accident, as my 6th grade teacher taught me, is when something in art turns out differently than you expected, but in a way you can still work with. You don't see a lot of happy accidents in writing, but in visual art - including, yes, making minis - you see them a lot more often. I've got a metal Ravagore (horrible flame-spitting monster) that will end up in a really awesome pose, all because I was willing to change my plans after a series of drastic failures.


Anyway, it seems to me that NaNo is a lot like a metal model - oddly shaped chunks of narrative falling out of your brain as fast as you can squeeze them out of your fingers (wow, I'm sorry for that metaphor already). Later, when you have time, you can go back over your creation with a more critical, discerning eye, fitting the pieces together into something beautiful.

So be open to happy accidents. Look out for the weird bits of beauty your brain spits out when you aren't looking.

Speaking of which, I'd probably better get back to writing. Tell then...