Missing out on that Olympic spirit

I actually do like the Olympics. Or at least bits of it.

In the past, I've made it my business to watch gymnastics, archery, diving, fencing, weightlifting, and a lot of other sports. I'm not really someone that's in to sports generally. I think watching them is a lot less fun than going out and doing stuff, but I make an exception for the Olympics. It gives me a chance to watch sports that aren't normally televised or all that celebrated. It lets me cheer for underdogs that really are underdogs as opposed to one team of incredibly wealthy men versus another team of incredibly wealthy men.

And I'm actually kind of pissed off this year that I seem to be missing all of it.

Some of this is my own fault. I don't have a television, so the only way for me to watch it is on the computer. Nicely enough, I now have two computers that are fit for watching television, so I could conceivably have the games on one while still doing work on the other.

Except for the part where NBC sucks. Oh yeah, that.

I tried going to the official NBC site for the Olympics. Apparently you're not allowed to watch online unless you're already a cable or dish subscriber. Which I find kind of mind-boggling, because why the hell would you be watching the games online if you could already do so on your television? Maybe they're trying to hit the valuable people-trapped-in-the-airport demographic.

For the record, I don't have cable. I don't want cable. I don't watch enough TV to justify the expense, and I'd really rather just do my watching online via streaming service like Netflix and Hulu, which I do pay for.

I just really don't understand it. They could put all the commercials they'd like in streaming online feeds, and they'd get seen. Hell, they'd get seen by people like me who normally manage to evade television advertisements. You'd think that would be desirable.

And this isn't even touching on some of NBC's other unfathomable decisions, like the time delay on the opening ceremonies, or that they edited out chunks of it because apparently Americans are just too self-absorbed to appreciate the tragedies memorialized by other countries.

At this point, if I want to watch the Olympics, I'm going to have to pretend to be British in order to do it. Well, there are worse things. But the number of flaming hoops NBC is putting between people and the games feels like a reminder that it's not really about the spirit of sport and competition, if it ever was. It's commercialization and controlling the product now, I guess.

Damnit, I just wanted to watch women's weightlifting, not unwind my eye-rolling cynicism. Was that too much to ask?

I write a horrible story (also known as: trunk stories, what are those?)

It happens sometimes. It kind of has to, if you think about it. Not everything you write is going to be wonderful. In fact, particularly when you're starting out, more of it will suck than will not suck.

The difference for me is that normally, when I hit a story that I just start hating, I stop writing it. Then delete what little I have written, often while doing my best Bela Lugosi laugh. Unfortunately, since right now I'm the Clarion Write-a-thon's bitch and I'm on a strict timetable, that wasn't really an option. So even though I'd decided that this story and I weren't going to be friends by about word 1500, I kept plugging away at it because I was past the point of no return. I needed to finish this thing or risk missing my goals.

Writing something awful that you hate is a uniquely bad experience, I think. I discovered all new levels of procrastination, trying to avoid engaging with this story. I eventually had to unplug my router so that I'd have to focus on the task of just ripping the bandaid off and getting it done.

This all, of course, segues nicely into the question what the heck a trunk story is. Since this thing I just finished is, without a doubt, a trunk story.

I was very confused by the term when I first started submitting stories to magazines. There are quite a few that say something to the effect of, "And don't send us your trunk stories" actually in their guidelines. I figured that if I didn't know what a trunk story actually was, I probably shouldn't worry about it.

Well, yes and no.

My little writerlings, the definition isn't really a set one, so here's how I think of it. Trunk stories are stories you know aren't good. Stories that don't quite work and you can't seem to fix. Stories you no longer believe in. Stories that taught you something valuable about the writing process but have no outer redeeming value. Stories that are effectively a waste of an editor's time.

I know this is a weird place for us as writers. We are always and forever our own worst, nastiest critics. But at the same time, you still need to believe in the stories you're trying to sell. You need to believe that they are the best you have to offer, and they are worth fighting for and taking rejection after rejection over. If you find yourself thinking, "Well this story is crap but maybe publication X will still give me a penny per word for it," stop. It's a trunk story.

There's no shame in having trunk stories. I have a sub-folder in my writing file literally titled, "The Trunk of Awfulness." That's where all my bad stories go. It's also the place for stories that I think are all right, but not something I believe in enough to keep throwing them at editors.

I think part of the process of writing and writing a lot is learning to recognize earlier when one of your stories is just not going to work. It sucks a bit when you've invested a lot of time in something and then realize that it's terrible.

But also think of it this way - every story you write teaches you something. And if you're writing terrible stories, it also means that you're going to write good ones too. I suggest that, like your rejections, you consider your trunk stories a point of pride. It means you're working damn hard.

Dog vs. Man Collision

This is something that happened at the Katy Flatland Century, which is still bugging the crap out of me.

After leaving the third rest stop on the metric century route, a dog ran across the road right behind me. It startled the hell out of me, and for a minute I thought he was going for my tires. (Which is a thing that happens.) But instead the dog went barreling full-bore into the cyclist behind me and literally knocked him off his bike.

I stopped and ran back to help. I'm guessing the dog was okay - he ran into the yard of the house we were passing, and there were other dogs there so I didn't want to go check and intrude on their territory. The cyclist was mostly okay. He had his helmet on, but he tore up his knee pretty bad and was hurting. Me and another cyclist helped him get back on his feet, get his chain back on his bike, and then he headed back to the rest stop, probably to call it a day.

The other guy that stopped to help seemed pretty sure the dog hadn't been going after the cyclist either. He thought the dog might have wanted to cross the road and just timed it badly, maybe a little scared by us. Which makes sense, the way it happened. (However, dogs chasing you while you're on your bike and going after your legs or the tires is a thing that happens, and it's scary.)

What bothers me about the whole thing is that this dog was just wandering around. The front yard of that house was open, so all of the other dogs were free to wander as well with no one to watch them. I understand Katy is kind of out in the country, so to speak - it's all fields and the occasional house in that area - but there's a road right there, and it has a speed limit of 45. There were plenty of cars on it with us as well.

Just seems like a bad, bad idea to me. The poor dog probably got through colliding with a cyclist okay. That wouldn't be the case with a car.

Silent Hill: Revelation and Pyramid Head

io9 has posted the new trailer for Silent Hill: Revelation.

It looks like it's based off of the third game of the Silent Hill series, which is probably my second favorite. Honestly, it should probably my favorite, but I played Silent Hill 2 first and it's just kind of stuck with me. James is just so wonderfully ineffectual as a hero, I can't quite get over it.

Heather, the heroine of Silent Hill 3, is infinitely more badass and has a lot of snappy dialog. I'm really hoping that'll come through in the movie, since she isn't one to just stare in horror and make the 'I'm just about to vomit from an overload of fear' face that seems to be the way most women emote in horror movies. She's competent.

Though of course, who knows how close this will come to the game. I've already got a bad feeling, here, considering it sounds like Heather calls the Kit Harrington character "Vincent." He sure as hell doesn't look like a priest in the evil cult of Silent Hill. I'm getting a horror movie teen romance vibe from it, and that really misses the point of the entire story being about Heather through and through. There's no room for a love story; it would be unnecessary and distracting from how cool the character is, even if the guy gets to be the damsel in distress for once. (And if he's not, expect ranting.)

Perhaps unusually, I didn't hate the first Silent Hill movie. It didn't make an enormous impression on me - I can barely remember most of it - and it's not as if I own a copy or have gone out of my way to see it more than once. But I remember it had some style, and I appreciated that there were certain things done incredibly well, like the nurses, Pyramid Head, and the creepy air raid siren. From the brief glimpses in the trailer, the nurses still look great. I'm reserving judgment on Pyramid Head, since I'm always worried he's going to get overused or have his menace sapped by doing un-Pyramid-Head-like things. (Such as the bit where he seems to be driving some kind of machinery in the trailer.)

Because this is the thing about Pyramid Head. He's terrifying in the same way old school, shambling zombies are terrifying. He's not in a rush. He's virtually indestructible. And you know no matter how fast you run, he's going to eventually catch up and then you're going to end up cut in half by a sword longer than you are tall. He doesn't really make any sound, either. It's all just the scrape of the sword on the ground, screeee screee.

True story: I'm too much of a weenie to play horror games. So when I say that I played one, what I actually mean is that my best friend Kat actually played it, while I sat behind her and offered frantic, helpful advice like, "Run! Run! Why aren't you running? Shoot it! Shoot!" etc.

The first time we played Silent Hill 2, we were stuck on the roof of the hospital. I went and looked at a gamefaq to figure out what we were missing. Well, we were just supposed to go to one part of the roof, look at the diary pages there, and then we'd get a cut scene with Pyramid Head but it was okay because he wouldn't actually hurt us.

Okay, there were the diary pages. Cut scene any moment now. Any moment... now. Any moment... now?

screeeeeee screeeeeee

At which point I screamed, perhaps louder than I had screamed in my entire life as the game camera whipped around to face Pyramid Head. Loud enough that I scared Kat into throwing the controller and jumping over the back of the couch.

I don't know what it is about that monster. He still scares the hell out of me even when I know he's coming. He's a force of nature. Evil, horrifying nature that involves wearing a leather apron that is, for all I know, made out of human skin. And has a giant metal pyramid obscuring his entire head, which you'd think would be hilarious only it not.

So we'll see. I imagine that I'll end up seeing this movie, hopefully with Kat. But not in 3D.

Because of course, like all things today, the movie is going to be in 3D. Though apparently it was actually filmed in 3D rather than given a computer shop job. Fascinating, but not enough to make me want to endure having glasses perched over my glasses, or spending an hour and a half feeling like I'm going to vomit into my hat.

Though for the life of me, every time I see Silent Hill: Revelation IN 3D all I can think is this:

(Weird Al Yankovic: Nature Trail to Hell in 3D)

Threat level: Pyramidalicious (pessimistic but willing to be surprised)

Related: I've been to Centralia, the town that inspired Silent Hill.

Soldier in #LokisArmy? Cyclist?

I want YOU to join Team Loki.

I've been thinking of this since I rode the metric century at Katy Flatlands, where just for fun I signed on as Team Loki. Loki's Army is big, strong, and infinitely badass. I can't be the only one that likes pounding out the miles. (In fact, I know I'm not, since we're already a three person, international team.)

Together we can:

• Encourage and help each other get fit and train.
• Ride formal and informal events.
• Spread the love of our sport.
• Raise money for charity.
• Dominate.

None of these things require that we live in the same place. That's what the internet is for. I want cyclists at every level, road and racing and mountain. There's a place for you on the team whether you do races or just like riding your bike to the grocery store. Newbie? That's fine, I've only been riding since March.

All you need is a bicycle and glorious purpose.

If you're interested, let's talk. You can tweet at me (@katsudonburi) or e-mail me at katsuhiro at gmail dot com.

The Dark Knight Rises

Tragedy or no, of course I had to see this movie. I love Christopher Nolan. I loved the other two movies in the trilogy.I'm a nerd. Duh.

(Oh, and in case you missed the news? Christian Bale is a fucking superhero. For reals.)

I liked The Dark Knight Rises, quite a bit. Though I didn't like it as much as The Dark Knight. I think it felt like it was just a bit too long, and a few of the expository points were a bit too heavy-handed. Which is to say it was still an excellent movie and you should definitely go see it. It was dark and moody and a fitting end to the trilogy, action and suspense and more bat toys than you can shake a stick at. All of the actors did great work. Anne Hathaway has now fully erased the horrors of Halle Berry and her CGI butt from my mind. Tom Hardy deserves a medal for managing to convey so much emotion with most of his face obscured by a ridiculous mask.

Really, Michael Caine stole the show as Alfred, though. That man made me cry. Twice. Best Alfred ever. He puts so much depth into everything, and just the weight of the relationship between Alfred and Bruce is crushing.

Of course, I never get tired of Christian Bale doing the Batman voice. I admit it.

And then there will be some spoilers.

SPOILERS BELOW

Honestly, there were a couple of things that did kind of bug me about the movie. First and foremost was Bruce Wayne sleeping with Miranda. It just seemed very out of the blue, particularly considering all the real chemistry there was in that movie was between him and Selina. Pretty much at the time that happened, I remember thinking, "...what?" Then by the end it just feels like a cheap trick to squeeze a little more impact from Miranda's betrayal, when she really wasn't enough of a character to even begin with. I didn't feel all that shocked at the big reveal, because there just hadn't been quite enough time setting her up.

I think the problem really was the movie wanted to have only one interest.Catwoman really crowded whatever development there might have been to build up Miranda. Or at least to get me to care about Miranda at all.

The other thing that bothers me a little is the setup for the "rabble" taking over Gotham. Now, on one hand I really don't get all the bitching that I've seen on Twitter about this movie being quasi-fascist, or about fearing the mob, or anti-99% or whatever. I don't think that was the point at all. The way the upper classes of Gotham were presented there was nothing to sympathize with, and the plight of the poor was made pretty damn clear. Rather, I easily saw the parallels to A Tale of Two Cities as soon as that plot line ramped up. My god, the first time you ever see the court room, it should smack you in the face.

But then the problem becomes that it's not a real revolution or a good parallel to the Reign of Terror, because it's something that was imposed top down by Bane. It wasn't the underclass rising up against the worthless rich; it was Bane telling everyone he was going to turn the city into a sea of glass if people didn't play by his rules.

So that setup didn't quite work for me. I'm not sure I buy Gotham falling apart quite like it did. Though I can buy that once things have gone totally to shit, people who have nothing to lose probably wouldn't feel too bad about seeing the decadent get their comeuppance.

I will tell you this. The Dark Knight Rises managed to do the impossible. I'm actually thinking of reading A Tale of Two Cities again. That's even more amazing than the level of emoting Tom Hardy managed with just his eyebrows.

Leviathan Wakes

This was the last of the Hugo-nominated novels I needed to read. Good thing too, since I have to do my votes in the next week. I'm hoping to at least run through the short stories, though I'm afraid I won't have time for anything else before the deadline, which makes me sad. 

My feelings about this book are... complicated.

There's a lot to like about it. When I first picked the book up, I'll admit the fact that it was over 500 pages long filled me with a certain amount of trepidation, mostly because I don't have a lot of time to read these days. But it was a fast read, it kept me interested, and I can't say I felt like it was too long. The characters were likable, it was definitely wonderfully epic like only space opera can be, and I liked all the space battles and politics. The writing was good. It deserves its Hugo nomination, I think.

So why do I feel unsettled about it? There's a sort of vague, lasting sense of discomfort that has just stuck with me since I finished the book.

It could be that recently I've been talking with a lot of friends about how we wish there were more awesome female characters out there. It's a constant source of frustration. Literature doesn't have quite the same problems as, say, television and movies with women being window dressing even when they're shooting things, but it's still annoying. 

SPOILERS BELOW

Now, the two main characters of Leviathan Wakes are guys. Whatever, I don't mind that so much. There are only a few female characters that really have any impact on the story: Captain Shaddid, Julie Mao, and Naomi. Shaddid is mostly there to be stone-cold and fire Detective Miller, and other than that she's not all that major as a character. 

Naomi, I really liked. She's feisty, she's smart, she's a survivor, she doesn't take crap off of anyone. She tells off Holden and tells him she doesn't want to hear 'I love you' to get her in bed. The way Holden is as a character, this kind of smackdown was entirely appropriate, and I loved it. Then a couple of chapters later, she sleeps with him anyway. They're also about to head off on a potential suicide mission, so that's a very human thing to do, even if I found it a bit disappointing. I still liked Naomi. 

It's with Julie Mao where the discomfort comes. She's also presented as being very self-reliant, a survivor, a rich girl who abandoned her family and fought off the emotional blackmail. But she's mostly not actually present in the story. She's there to be the motivation for Detective Miller, who becomes creepily obsessed with her, to the point that he's hallucinating her and decides he's in love with her. Then we find out at the very end that she's being used by the "protomolecule" to pilot Eros-turned ship to Earth. What stops this is Detective Miller, working on that one-sided connection he has with her. He basically commits suicide to be with her. 

It just... bugs me. Julie Mao ends up being used by one side or another throughout the entire book and is then talked down by a guy she's never met who thinks he loves her. Naomi ends up feeling like a prize that gets won by Holden, despite her initial resistance to it. Both women are like goals for the two main male characters.

I'm probably being unfair here, but it just bothers me. I think if it had just been one or the other, I would have  been fine. 

In Which Loki Rides a Metric Century on the Back of a Foolish Human

Before the break of dawn, Loki sees to the readying of his trusty steed. He also make certain his minion eats some yogurt or something since she'd better pedal like the wind.

What? NOT NUMBER ONE? This insult shall not soon be forgotten, foolish mortals!

I bet Thor got a lower number. :`-(

Fly my pretties! Fly!

The mortals gather around their feeding station.

Who controls the ice, controls the universe! Or something like that. 

The mortals of rest stop two are spared Loki's wrath, as they have prepared him a throne. 

 After 26 miles, he is read for a banana break. (He may also have asked the Chiquita lady for her phone number, but I have been sworn to secrecy.)

Drinking the juice of pickles? What vile sorcery is this?

[Editor's note: Believe it or not, the Pickle Juice tastes WAY better than Gatorade in my opinion.]

More peanut butter and jelly! Do not delay, for my hunger grows!

The laziness of these mortals... let them have their rest, for he shall reach the finish line all the faster.

...after crowning himself king of Fig Newton Mountain.

To Space and Back

When I was ten, this was one of my favorite books. To be honest, at that point it was a little below my reading level. But I didn't care. It was about Sally Ride. I'd just recently seen The Right Stuff and I remember being so disappointed that there were no girls among the astronauts in that movie. But what could you do, it was history. And as far as I could tell, where history was concerned women only rarely got to do cool things. 

Well, Sally Ride was also part of history. Much more recent history, but she was in there nonetheless. She'd been to space on the shuttle. She'd proven for America what Valentina Tershkova had shown in the USSR twenty years before. Women could go into space.

I didn't have any designs on being an astronaut. My big brother was the astronomy enthusiast of the family. He had a telescope and built models of the space shuttle and space station. For me, the importance of Sally Ride wasn't that I thought I could follow directly in her footsteps.

It was that she proved that not even the sky was the limit. Girls could do anything. We just had to keep fighting against anyone that tried to hold us back. 

I also really loved her hair. 

It was the 80s, okay?

Her obituary told the world something else new: she was a lesbian. I wish I had known that. I wish a lot of kids had known that. Not because we have some kind of puerile right to delve into her private life. But rather  because it would have been one more thing for younger me to hold close. Girls can go to space. Girls who like girls can go to space, and write books, and have amazing lives and love. And screw the haters, because Sally Ride got to look down on the Earth from orbit and see something so beautiful that some call it God. 

My heart goes out to her partner, and it makes me so angry to think that she'll be denied the benefits that should be hers. Maybe that will change, soon. Women went to space. In time, we can do anything.

Thank you, Sally Ride. Ten-year-old me thanks you, and says she loves you. We all come from the ashes of stars. Some just get closer to returning than the rest of us. 

Fitness for Fat Nerds: Group Fun

Generally, I'm all in favor of fitness activities that you can do solo. This is largely personal preference, but I've also seen serious motivation problems come out of being too dependent upon other people. It normally goes like this: you and a buddy get a gym membership/make a fitness pact and motivate each other. Eventually one of you loses motivation, which means then it's on the other person to constantly provide the get up and go. Which burns them out. And then you're just sitting on the couch, sharing a tub of hummus and saying man, you should really get back to working out.

Be your own motivation. Don't let friends drag you out of the habit.

That said, exercising with other people is normally way more fun than doing it alone. I did (and will hopefully do again in a few months) kung fu for eight years, and talk about group energy. Being around other people who are enthusiastic about whatever you're doing helps make you more enthusiastic, and makes it easier to push through when you're tired.

I'm an incredibly competitive person by nature. Having other people around makes me push myself in ways I never thought possible, because I don't want to get left behind. I want to be in the front of the pack, damnit! (When you're not the lead dog, after all, the view never changes.)

Which brings us to group rides for cycling. This is a thing I've gotten in to since coming to Houston for the summer. It's got the same energy and enthusiasm bonus as being in a big class for kung fu or something else like step. I love it and can't recommend it enough.

The bonus, of course, for group cycling rides is they're also much safer than riding solo if you're on the roads. Once you get a critical mass of cyclists (6-10, I'd say) you can easily take over an entire lane on the road and cars are no longer brave enough to fuck with you because you have the numbers.

So how do you find group rides? Start with your local bicycle shop. A lot of group rides use those as gathering points, and are even sponsored by them or run by the team that calls that shop its home. In Houston, I regularly participate in the Bikesport and Planetary Cycles rides, and have done the Bike Barn ride.Houston also has a cycling group on meetup.com, and I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of other big cities do as well.

Joining a group ride:
You'll notice the ones I linked to are free (as far as I know, most for fun group rides should be!) and run basically as a show up on time and ride affairs. It's all fairly simple. There are a couple of things you should know about, though.


1) Drop versus no drop. Unless a ride specifically states that it is "no drop" assume that it's a drop ride. On a no drop ride, it's the group policy to not leave people behind. This can happen by accident on occasion, but normally the people in charge of the ride will keep at least one person at the back of the group to make sure stragglers don't get left alone or lost. No drop rides will also pull over and wait to let people catch up if the group gets cut in half by a giant hill or a stop light. There is nothing wrong with drop rides, per se, but if you're just starting out (and don't know the area you're riding in well) than a no drop ride is much friendlier and less intimidating. 

2) How fast do you go? You'll notice most rides have a minimum speed requirement. This can seem kind of tough, but it's really to help keep the group together and minimize frustration. (You get frustrated if you're left behind a lot, they get frustrated if someone is really slowing the group down.) This is one of the places where having a computer for your bike is useful, since that will give you a good feel for your speed. However, you can also just do a route of known length and estimate your speed off of that. 

What does the speed number actually mean? It tends to vary, from what I've seen. One of the rides I do asks for an average speed of 15 mph at minimum. Keep in mind that your average speed includes all the less than stellar times you're accelerating or decelerating for stop lights, for example. So an average of 15mph means that you're actually spending most of your time going significantly faster (probably around 18-20 mph) and will be comfortable sustaining that pace.

Another of the rides I go on is big enough that it's divided into four groups: A, B+, B, and C. Each of those groups has a speed associated with it, and that speed is whatever you can comfortably maintain. So the C group is 15-18 mph sustained speed, which means a much lower (probably 13-ish mph) average. I learned this by starting off with the C group the first time I did the ride because I thought they wanted 15mph average, and I ended the ride bouncing up to the B+ group because I wasn't having to work hard enough. (The B+ was just a little too fast for me, though!)

So how do you know? The best thing you can do in a situation like that is ask other people in the ride and find out what the speed requirement means. If in doubt, start with the slowest group, hang with them, and bump up to a faster group if you're not working up enough of a sweat. 

3) Ride safe. Check what the ride requirements say to start with. Some evening rides will be out when it's dark, so you must have a flashing tail light and a headlamp. Honestly, those things are a good idea to have anyway, even if you only ride during the day. Always wear your helmet. Bring a spare tube and some CO2 canisters in case you get a flat.

Most big rides will have a quick safety talk for new riders before they get going, so make sure you get there a little early for that the first few times you go. Here are a few things I've learned, however: 

Communicate with other riders so they know if you're passing them. If the group is coming to a light or a stop, people will often yell "stopping" or "slowing" to warn the back of the group. Pass that back. Signal turns so everyone knows where they're going. You'll also see other hand signals get used, to warn people about potholes and the like. These things, you eventually learn by observation, but you have to start by paying attention. Listen. If you're like me and can't live without musical accompaniment, only wear one earbud, and keep it in your right ear so you can hear the other riders and the street noise. (If you're in a left drive company, keep your right ear free instead.)

4) The after party. Sometimes after a ride, everyone goes out for beer and pizza. This is the best part.

The Hollow Crown 4: Henry V

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start.

This. The Saturday I've been waiting for! Favorite play ever, favorite actor ever, go!

Rather than start this review with seven pages of frantic keysmashing, allow me to just say: Fuck yeah. With bells on.

There was everything to love about the performances turned in for this version of Henry V. Tom Hiddleston was superb. I've already gushed and gushed about him as Hal in Henry IV part 1 and part 2. At this point all I can really add is chocolate sprinkles delivered by a magical sparkling unicorn of pure badassery. Which is to say I thought he made a darn good Henry V.

What I noticed most about this Henry V was a pronounced somberness. Hiddleston shows clearly that Henry feels the weight of all his decisions. At the same time, there were lovely moments of supreme temper (such as in Act I scene 2 when he receives the Dauphin's mocking present) and at the end of the battle of Agincourt with the enraged delivery of:

I was not angry since I came to France
Until this instant.

And then there was the end of the siege of Harfleur:

What is't to me, when you yourselves are the cause,
If your pure maidens fall into the hand
Of hot and forcing violation?

That is one scary as hell speech, and Hiddleston delivers it with terrifying implacability. (And achieves a wonderfully disbelieving look from Anton Lesser's Exeter, but more on that later.) I also was pleased that he still preserved the hints of playfulness that live on in the more responsible Henry. When he confronts the soldier who picked a fight with him when he was in disguise, and later tries to woo Katharine, we're reminded that there's much more to Henry than a stern and bloody soldier.

There's just so much complexity to the character, so many tones and notes, and it was all there. Of course, I can't go on without mentioning the two greatest speeches. I actually watched the "Once more unto the breach" speech three times, since the first time the delivery was so different from what I'd been expecting that   I needed another view. The tone was much less bombastic than what I'm used to seeing, which I think is ultimately for the good. It suited Hiddleston's take on Henry well.

And the Saint Crispin's day speech. My god. Tears. Perfect.

What really sold Henry's more scary moments was actually the presence of Anton Lesser as the Duke of Exeter. His reaction to Henry at Harfleur, his confidence in his king, his shock when Henry orders the prisoners to be killed at Agincourt all add up to show even the court didn't quite understand what they'd get by awakening Henry's "sleeping sword of war."

I honestly didn't feel all that enthused about Lesser as Exeter in Act I scene 2, but by the time we get to Act II scene 4, I was sold:

Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king
Come here himself to question our delay...

At which point I realized that Exeter is a soft-spoken, fearless badass. I was rather amused in Agincourt as well, when he's speaking with Henry on the battlefield. Everyone is just coated in blood and mud, and Exeter is clean except for some splashes around his hem. Because he is just too much of a badass for dirt.

Paterson Joesph did very well as the Duke of York, and I was extremely charmed by Melanie Thierry as Katharine. Really, I liked the whole cast, but those are the ones that really stood out to me.

Also, while there was a bit of shaky cam in the battle, I have no objections to it this time. It didn't make me feel motion sick, and I could actually tell what was going on. I was surprised that there were bits of the battle in slow-motion as well. Overall, I thought it was all right, particularly for a BBC production. Tom Hiddleston, Paterson Joseph, and Owen Teale (hope I'm spelling that right, the credits were kind of blurry) as Captain Fluellen were the ones that really did the heavy lifting on the battle. They all had some serious crazy eyes going.

The acting was good. That's going to guarantee I'll be regularly re-watching this when I need a Henry V fix. Some things, I didn't like so much. The score, for one. I found it intrusive in Henry IV part 2 and even moreso here.

I'm also fairly stunned by just how much they cut from the play. Obviously, this was for time constraints, but it was jarring nonetheless. I actually watched the movie with my pocket Henry V in hand so I could follow along, because I'm just that kind of nerd. It meant that I felt like I was tripping over a rock when something was missing.

Several characters didn't even make it in, notably Gower and Henry's two brothers, Gloucester and Bedford. Which seemed particularly strange to me, since they were present in the two parts of Henry IV. I guess this time around they had something better to do than go murder the shit out of the French with their big brother. Or maybe they just got stuck in the pre-Olympic traffic in London. We'll never know.

With the loss of Gower as a character, that meant we lost most of the character development scenes with Fluellen, which I think are a shame since Fluellen's quite fun, and he has an excellent enmity with Pistol that doesn't get nearly as much play because of the deleted scenes. Act II scene 2, where the traitors are revealed and taken away was eliminated.

Now, I can understand doing away with it for time constraints, but it's a really good scene for Henry:

The mercy that was quick in us but late,
By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd:
You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy...

If nothing else, it's another big point in his development as being so merciless as we see him later.

Also missing is Act V scene 1, where we find out the sad fate of Pistol (his friends are dead, his wife is dead, he's going back to England to be a thief). While again this isn't important to Henry, sine we've had Pistol throughout the play it does bother me that he's just left without any kind of conclusion.

Act III scene 7 is also mostly absent, which I was disappointed by. It's the French camp scene, which always seemed to me to be important setup for the battle at Agincourt - it shows how overconfident the French were, how outgunned the underdog English seemed. That also takes a lot of development away from the French characters, since they really only have a couple of scenes, so seeing them die in the battle later has a lot less impact I think.

I'm also puzzled about the choice to leave out the bit where the French kill all the boys at the English camp and set fire to the baggage. While Henry does order the English to kill their prisoners before that, it's actually the catalyst for him screaming about how utterly enraged he is. ("I was not angry since I came to France...") This has the effect of making what was previously Henry's reiteration to kill the prisoners seem much less justified. So I suppose if the point was to remind us that the man is absolutely brutal when he feels he needs to be, it does do that.

Anyway. I wonder if those scenes are gone entirely, or if maybe some might have been filmed and we'll get to see them when there's not the time constraints of television. I guess we'll find out.

And of course, the inevitable comparison to Kenneth Branagh's 1989 Henry V. That movie was my first love, so to speak, so it's not really fair to compare the two. I'll be watching both movies when I want a Henry fix. I hope they can manage to take turns and not fight, because I do love them both and they have very different qualities.

But I will tell you this. Man, I miss Patrick Doyle's score for the movie. (And sorry, John Hurt. Derek Jacobi wins. He will always be Chorus in my heart.)

If you want to watch this wonderful Henry V, here's a recorded livestream, which has something like 10 minutes of sports in front of it. Also a direct download. And you can still watch it on the BBC iPlayer if you get Expat Shield, which is how I did it. (I actually started watching an hour late - shame on me! - because I was out carb loading for tomorrow at a Chinese Buffet.)

As of this writing, by the way, Branagh's Henry V is available on instant play for Netflix. If you haven't gotten to watch it, you should. It's 23 years old but still fantastic.

Henry V is probably the most straightforward of the history plays (less politics, really, more Henry being a shiny badass on a horse) but if you had trouble following it here's a quick synopsis.

The Hollow Crown 3: Henry IV Part 2

Finally got to watch this, and not a moment to soon! Darn field work for standing between me and Shakespeare anyway. It's okay, baby, I'm here for you now. I'll never let them tear us apart again.

Henry IV Part 2 starts off with scene 1 and 2 being intercut again, as it was in Part 1. This, I like less than I did. It made more sense in Part 1 so we could understand a bit better why Henry IV is having such problems with his son. In this, it's making Falstaff being, well, Falstaff with what is the setup for the political conflict for this play, and it seems really unnecessary. They also trimmed a bit off the start of scene 1, including the opening monologue of Rumor. Which is a nice speech that's fun to read aloud, but its loss doesn't bother me so much, particularly since we only see Rumor once. (It did give me a moment of concern about Chorus in Henry V, but considering John Hurt is on the cast list in that role, I think we're safe.)

Anyway, little tweaks (and they did exist here and there, probably many more than I realized since I don't know this play nearly as well as Henry V) like this are normally necessary. I just mentioned the first one because it struck me rather wrongly.

And while I sound like I'm complaining, the only other potential complaint I've got is that for some reason the score felt very intrusive in this one, far more than in the previous two plays. I already felt incredibly moved by  Hal's final scene with his father; I didn't need all the strings to tell me I ought to be. The music for the coronation scene also made me cringe slightly; I half expected the classic record scratch news when Falstaff breaks through the crowd and stops Hal. Oof.

But other than those minor quibbles? Perfect, perfect, perfect.

While I already gushed about Jeremy Irons and Tom Hiddleston in Part 1, this performance requires even more glee and sparkles. Jeremy Irons was incredible. There is so much pain and marrow in that performance: all the guilt that Henry feels about his acquisition of the crown, all his conflicts with his son, the weight of the crown bearing down on him, his palpable worries that his death might hand the throne to someone who will never be ready for it. The last moment when he reconciles with his son was beyond beautiful.

And of course, his entire monologue:

...Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,
And in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

The delivery was wonderful. Though there was part of me that found it disturbingly cute to see Henry wandering around in his pajamas.

I feel as if Tom Hiddleston's performance in Part 1 was really just the teaser for this. Hal lets go of his wild days and finally grows up, when it's almost too late. It comes back to act iv scene 4, when Henry IV is on his death bed. Hiddleston does an amazing job of taking us through Hal's grief. It's that realization that's unfortunately common to so many of us, that we spurned and insufficiently loved those closest and dearest to us because we thought they would always be there tomorrow.

...And dead almost, my liege, to think you were,
I spake unto this crown as having sense,
And thus upbraided it: 'The care on thee depending
Hath fed upon the body of my father;
Therefore, thou best of gold art worst of gold:
Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
Preserving life in medicine potable;
But thou, most fine, most honour'd: most renown'd,
Hast eat thy bearer up.' 

The words are powerful enough on their own. The delivery killed. I cried. Not ashamed to admit it in the slightest.

Though if I thought that was the best, then there was the final scene, where the newly crowned King Henry V officially turns his back on Falstaff and the life he once knew. I always thought, "I know thee not, old man," would be the most powerful line. But in this rendition, I found:

I have long dream'd of such a kind of man,
So surfeit-swell'd, so old and so profane;
But, being awaked, I do despise my dream.

Ouch, ouch, ouch. The more subtle expressions from Hiddleston (showing this isn't all that easy for Henry) and the stunned disbelief from Simon Russell Beale as Falstaff just sells this. Of course, a lot of the play focuses on Falstaff being old and his impending death - paralleling the mortality of Henry IV, the father that Hal ultimately chooses. Falstaff and Hal are only in two scenes together; I think even in the first one, there's a sense of Hal already distancing himself from Falstaff, continuing the process that started in the previous play.

Beale makes Falstaff complex through the end. I was never quite certain if the majority of Falstaff's upset at the end was because he lost someone he actually cared about, or if he saw his long-cultivated meal ticket walk away without so much as a backward glance. That I'm still not sure reflects incredibly well on the performance, I think.

Also, a shout-out to Alun Armstrong as Northumberland. While the political setting of the play is very much overshadowed by the family drama aspect of it, he turned in a good performance at the grieving father of Henry Percy.

This was excellent, and I recommend it heartily, though you should watch Part 1 of the play first so you can get the full arc of Hal's character development. It's definitely worth the time investment.

I watched this and Part 1 on the BBC2 iPlayer with the use of a little program called Expat Shield. If you don't want to go that route, there's the whole episode on youtube as of this writing. There's also an upload of Part 1 on  youtube, but it's cut into 15 minute sections. You can watch it via playlist here.

Henry V tomorrow. My favorite Shakespeare play ever. I can't even. I can't begin to say how excited I am.

...yeah, something like that.

Senseless

I got hit with the news about the shooting in Colorado about five minutes after I woke up this morning.

This has hit a lot of people hard, as it should. And a lot of nerds, because it was at the premiere for The Dark Knight Rises. If you're at the midnight showing for a movie like that, you're part of the nerd legion.

But I think it's different even when it's something that happens in your home. I've been to that theater before. Not often, because it's pretty far from my house, but I've seen a movie there, meeting up with friends. I know people that live near that part of Denver. It's my backyard.

A little over thirteen years ago, I sat in my best friend's living room and we held on to each other like we were going to drown as the news from the Columbine massacre came rolling in. We'd both graduated from high school a little less than a year before it. I'd been to Columbine before for school stuff. I'd casually met some of the students at marching band events.

This feels the same. You feel helpless, because people are hurting and there is absolutely nothing you can do. You wonder how anyone could have so much hatred and despair in their heart that they could even conceive of doing something like this, let alone actually set out to make it happen.

It's senseless. It's a thing that literally makes no sense, a thing you can't understand because you aren't someone who could ever descend to that level. You watch a screen and cry for strangers and feel relieved and just a little guilty that it was no one you personally know and like. Because you also know of course that everyone there was someone to a lot of people, and they are crying for real instead of in the throes of empathetic pain.

And you're reminded that this could have been you, or your friends, or your parents. It still could be, at any time, because these things happen and far more often than they ever should. There is a sickness that crops up with terrifying and depressing regularity, bursting out and claiming a group of victims in an instant and then disappearing while it incubates again. This needs to stop, be cured, but the how is a question that never seems to get answered, lost in a tide of political posturing.

I hope the injured recover. I hope the families who lost people today will find solace for their pain. And I hope that this won't act as some sort of sick signal for others to go out and try to hurt and kill people, as happens sometimes. There's already too much of this in the world, every day.

Stay safe, everyone. All my love to you.

Submitting short stories (part 2/2)

Continuing on from yesterday, let's talk more on with the nuts and bolts of submitting short stories to magazines/anthologies.

The Cover Letter
I feel like that heading should come with a dramatic flash of lightning and a crack of thunder. This is the number one thing that scared the hell out of me when I was starting out. It's the first thing people see before they ever get to your story.

Trust me, it's not worth the angst. This is a cover letter. It's not a query letter, like you'd use to try to convince an agent that your novel is amazing and they should totally invest the time reading it. With cover letters, you want it simple, short, and to the point.

First, remember how yesterday I told you to read the submission guidelines? Start there. If there's something in particular the editors want in the cover letter they will tell you. (eg: a short biography, etc.) Otherwise, this is all you need: the title of your story, its length, your relevant publication credits, and courtesy. I'm not going to claim I'm an expert at cover letters, but I'm guessing I've managed to do something right since I've sold some stories. Here's an example of a cover letter from me:

Thank you for considering my story, "Most awesomely Mind-Blowing Story Ever." It's about XXXX words long. I'm an associate member of the SFWA and part of the Northern Colorado Writers Workshop. I've published:

"Entangled" in Specutopia issue #1 (July 2012)
"Comes the Huntsman" in Strange Horizons (July 2, 2012)
"The Jade Tiger" in Penumbra (March 2012)
"Transportation" in Anotherealm (September 2011)
"The Falling Star" in Aurora Wolf's New Fairy Tales Anthology
"The Book of Autumn" in Beneath Ceaseless Skies #49

Thank you and I hope that you enjoy reading my story! 

Exciting, I know. But the point is, your story is supposed to be exciting and interesting. Your cover letter is supposed to convey the absolute minimum of necessary information so that you're not wasting the time of someone who you'd much rather have reading your story.

Don't tell the editor at length that you're a new writer and have no publishing credits. If you don't have any listed, it's obvious enough and you shouldn't belabor the point. It's okay to be new, everyone was at one point. Don't describe your story or even highlight the genre of it in the cover letter unless the submission guidelines tell you otherwise. Most editors/slushpile readers like to go in to a story without preconceptions. Help them out with that. Don't apologize to the editor about the quality of the story, point out that you have no self-confidence, or defensively state that your friends totally liked the story.

I mention all of the above sins, mind you, because at some point I've committed them myself and had some kind editor (BLESS THEM) ask very sweetly if I would please knock it the heck off. I made the mistakes so you don't have to!

Wait.
After the angst of the cover letter and the terrifying, stomach-churning moment where you send the e-mail or click the submit button, this is the worst part. You have to wait for what is often a long (3-6 months or more!) time and can really just look forward to a rejection e-mail, likely a form letter, at the end of it. It sucks.

Don't query about your story unless you've waited long enough. Period. The submission guidelines (remember those?) will normally tell you at what point you ought to query to make sure your submission didn't get lost. If not stated, you should wait at least 90 days.

So you know what you do, while you're waiting? Write more stories. Edit them. Submit them.

I describe it as playing story ping-pong, where every time one is rejected I bounce it back out to another potential market. (Sometimes with a little additional polishing if someone has been kind enough to send a note along with the rejections.) Right now, I have thirteen stories out and waiting for rejection or the much, much more rare acceptance. And I'm writing more.

Because we're writers. It's what we do, right?

Upon rejection:
I have a lot more to say about getting rejected, stuff that deserves its own blog post, but really quick: DO NOT ARGUE WITH AN EDITOR. EVER. EVER. EVEREVEREVER. 

You might think your art is the best thing ever. No one is required to agree. And the last thing you want is to gain a reputation as someone who is combative, nasty, or just plain crazy. You want more chances to catch the attention of these editors, since maybe they'll like another story of yours. You don't want a permanent place on someone's spam filter.

Also, if someone sends you a nice note along with a rejection - and it does happen! - take it as the enormous complement it is. Most editors are incredibly busy, and even a sentence or two, particularly if it's advice about your story, is a real gift. That said? Don't send them a note back. They're busy. Their inboxes are full. Don't clutter them up.

Finally, unless the submission guidelines (those things again!) say re-submissions are okay, they're not. It doesn't matter how much you've edited and re-grooved a story, you get one chance per market and you're done. The only exception to this rule (other than the submission guidelines) is if the editor e-mails you specifically to ask you to re-sub the story once you've done some editing.

Writers of the Future
If you're a new writer in scifi/fantasy, always have a story entered in the current quarter of WotF. There are four quarters a year so four stories you can enter to a massive contest with a huge potential prize and no entry fee. I don't enter other contests on principle because I'm not willing to put out the entry fee; it's a good way to lose money. But WotF is a zero-risk game; you have nothing to lose (except 3-6 months of your story waiting for judging, which is really no worse than submitting to, say, Intergalactic Medicine Show) and potentially a lot to gain in terms of monetary prize and fame.

Winning WotF is a major feather for the cap of any non-professional or semi-professional writer. The contest is also limited to non-pro and semi-pro writers, which means you are competing with people like yourself. You don't have to worry about 900 pound gorillas of writerly prowess like Neil Gaiman accidentally stepping on you. (Or tiny mice like me, for that matter.)

So do it. Do it every quarter until you've sold three stories at pro-rate and can no longer enter.

Questions? This obviously doesn't cover everything.

Submitting short stories (part 1/2)

A friend of mine asked me for advice when it comes to submitting short stories for publication. Which actually surprised me a little at first, but hey. I've finally gotten to the point where I'm dropping things off my cover letter publication list to keep it down to six items, so I guess I must be doing something right on occasion.

This is not meant to be exhaustive (please ask questions if there's something I haven't covered) and neither is this meant to be a guide about writing. Here, we're starting with the assumption that you have a short story that you've polished to a golden shine, which you believe in enough to fight for it and put up with rejections.

Nuts and bolts all the way, baby.

So let's imagine: you have your golden, shiny story. You want to knock the socks off of an editor with the emotional power of your art, and as a result be showered with dirty handfuls (hah!) of cash. Where do you start?

Pick a market.
I use Ralan.com and Duotrope for the most part to locate markets, though I have other ways now. These sites are good places to start, however. Duotrope is lovely because it's searchable, and has parameters like payscale, genre, sub-genre (though this is of limited use at times), and story length. Ralan is for scifi/fantasy/horror in particular. I like it for its list of open anthologies.

So what is your story? Scifi? Fantasy? Horror? Dark fantasy? You need to have this figured out before you can even really start picking and choosing; sending a magazine a story in a genre they aren't interested in will get you a guaranteed rejection. Once you've decided that you're, say, scifi, you can do a search in Duotrope for markets that publish that genre, and additionally tell it what length and payscale you're looking for. (I don't normally bother with subgenre, myself.) Hopefully you already read some of the publications on the list that comes up, so you have an idea of what kind of stories they publish. Otherwise, when you think you might want to try a market, read at least a few of their stories first. This helps you get an idea of the general type of stories the editor likes, though that certainly doesn't mean they want carbon copies of their current offerings.

The other thing you should think about is payscale. I advocate the principle of go big or go home. Start with the pro-paying markets and then work your way down to semi-pro, token, and free. If you aren't confident that your story is worth $.05 per word, you'd better keep working on it until it is. It's hard to get into even free markets. You need to have your best work, work you are willing to set in front of any editor without shame.

Read the submission guidelines.
Read the submission guidelines.

The submission guidelines? Read them.

No, really. Read the submission guidelines.

The guidelines will tell you everything you need to know about submitting to the market. If they want your manuscript formatted a particular way, do it. No matter how magically delicious your story is, if you don't bother to format it properly, it'll get tossed because you couldn't be bothered to read the guidelines. (Hint: most places use a variation of William Shunn's excellent format, so I recommend starting out having your manuscript formatted like this. The only major difference I've seen is that italics are normally okay to be left as italics instead of underlined.)

The guidelines also tell you what the editors want, story wise. They tell you what the word count limits are. They tell you how to send the MS (file attachment? plaint text in email? electronic submission form?).  The guidelines are the source of all manner of useful information. Read them. Love them. Read them again. Live by them.

Do not submit your story to more than one place at a time.
This technically fits under "read the submission guidelines" but I feel it's important enough to need its own section. Unless a market specifically says "simultaneous submissions okay," do not do it. Period. And if one market is okay with simultaneous submissions, the other markets you send your story to had better be as well.

I know it's frustrating. A lot of markets can take 3-6 months to get back to you, or more. The waiting sucks. But too bad. You have to wait for one market to pass one your story before you send it to another. It's the height of rudeness to withdraw stories once submitted because you've gotten them picked up elsewhere, and don't think editors don't talk to each other, or don't have memories when someone annoys them. I'm not guaranteeing this would be a permanent black mark in your record, so to speak, but it's just really not worth risking it. Be polite.

Okay, this is running kind of long, so I will continue on tomorrow.

United would like to know how I enjoyed my flights to State College

Well, United, let me tell you.

My amazing, superfun and exciting travel experience started out with a most enjoyable wait in IAH at the gate where our party plane was supposed to meet my group. Only there was no plane! It was off playing hide and seek with the other airplanes. Those scamps! While the airplanes finished their hijinks and goings-on (I hear the control tower might have gotten TPed by some naughty 737) we sat in the overcrowded space awash in the BO of our fellow travelers, and wondered how in the living hell we were going to make our connection to State College.

Here, let me save you the suspense because someone reading this might have a heart condition: we didn't. In fact, our airplane to State College took off in almost the same exact moment that our flight from IAH was landing. What a coincidence!

But come on, frowny-facers, what could be more fun than a night of bouncing around in scenic, beautiful Dulles Airport? Nothing, I'm sure! And United so kindly gave us vouchers to the cheapest available hotel, as well as enough meal vouchers for like four whole extra value meals from McDonald's. Apiece!

Even better, the nice man at the gate volunteered to help us get our luggage back from the bowels of Dulles, so we could have toothbrushes and deodorant and therefore our stink hopefully would not fill the airplane we were being put on the next day with toxic gases. We could pick up our bags in a couple of hours and then there would be clean underwear for everyone!

Just kidding!

Our clean underwear got to take a magical evening journey to State College on the next flight without us, even though there was no room on the plane for us. Maybe we should have just pretended to be luggage, right? Silly us.

Then the next morning, we got up bright and early and scrubbed the yuck off our tongues with toothbrushes thoughtfully provided by the hotel. (I guess the hotel didn't want to get their clerk's face melted off with morning breath.) We fought a gladitorial battle with super slo-mo explosions to get through security and then were at the gate in time to have airport breakfast! What could be better?

A flight that left on time, right?

No, so sad. Our flight was delayed by an hour. Then another hour. And another. (In fact, every time my coworker Joe got up and checked the monitor, the flight got delayed by another hour - you playful people at the gate, we're on to you! - so Joe got stapled to his chair soon after we noticed that pattern.)

A cheerful man in a safety vest entertained us by standing outside the gate window and pulling the cover off the engine to our plane, then banged on the mechanical guts within using a dizzying array of tools. Thankfully, we were informed during hour three of the delay that United had found another plane for us, and we could all finally go to State College! Yay!

By found, I'm assuming that they meant literally found by the curb, as if it was an abandoned couch. You know, that perfectly good couch why is someone throwing it away get the pickup couch. In fact, just like that couch, it had broken seats (where people still had tickets that stated they had to sit there) and smelled a little weird. It felt like being an undergrad again! Such a invigorating experience.

Oh, and I could tell you such fun stories about the scavenger hunt for our luggage in the tiny airport at State College. Gosh, it was just the perfect way to end eighteen hours of travel hell.

In closing, I would like to meet your CEO in person so I can tell him what a superfun and exciting experience this was. By which I mean I'd love to meet Jeff Smisek and give him such a firm handshake that he won't be able to escape when I proceed to knee him right in the sack. Twice. That merger with Continental sure has upped the company's game, I can tell.

This is, by the way, why I'd rather jam finishing nails into my sinuses and then snort powdered lemons than fly United when I'm allowed to buy my own tickets.

Transformers: Dark of the Moon

I've owned the soundtrack for this movie since it came out, actually, and I never bothered to watch the movie itself. I actually liked the first Transformers movie all right, in that sort of well it's got explosions and giant robots and it makes okay background noise kind of way. Revenge of the Fallen left me in an underwhelmed place of slow-motion explosions that I didn't manage to return to again until I had the misfortune of watching Ghost Rider 2.

Though as an aside, I'd still rather watch Nic Cage chew the scenery any day than Shia LeBouf whine.

The thing is, I actually really like the soundtracks for these movies. They make excellent writing music even if the movies themselves make me hope for a nuclear winter. What I'd like to know is how did movies this incoherent manage to have such nice music?

It's a zen riddle.

I decided to watch Dark of the Moon tonight, just because why not, I had some braincells to kill.

Well. It sure was a thing.

I wish I could write a mocking examination of the reality-bending badness of this movie, the way io9 did back when it came out. But I've been working 10+ hour days all week and spending most of my time having my neurons slowly drilled into submission by Microsoft Powerpoint. I just don't have it in me.

I am as incoherent as Dark of the Moon.

The movie can't decide if it's a romantic comedy, a stupid buddy comedy, an action movie, or something else entirely and I don't even care. I don't know who Leonard Nimoy owed money to, but I can't fathom why he got within a thousand miles of this pulsating mass of disagreeing plotlines. Shia LeBouf seems to be a three-year old trapped in a man's body, vacillating between soulful eyes and quivering lower lip and incoherent tantrums of petulant rage. And how the hell could something make me miss Megan Fox? How is such a thing possible unless we truly do exist in a godless universe of pain?

I never thought a movie could make me long for the smooth and logical plotline of Ghost Rider 2, but Dark of the Moon managed it. It would be a better movie, and more coherent, if you just cut together all the scenes of the Transformers fighting and just enjoyed the pure, explosion-laden eye candy. It would also be shorter, which I consider a good thing, considering every scene involving the human characters is approximately seventeen years long.

The good news is, I will still be able to listen to the glorious soundtrack without having it ruined for me, because nothing in this movie made any kind of impact beyond a vague existential discomfort caused every time Shia LeBouf screamed like an eight-year-old girl.

Next time, self, remember that curiosity caused the cat to watch really terrible movies.

Fitness for Fat Nerds: To Clip or Not to Clip?

One of the first things you'll discover about bicycles is that apparently the vocabulary was designed by someone with a sadistic sense of humor who was convinced that life would be better if newbs had no idea what anyone was talking about. Take the saddle bag, for example. I bet you immediately envision those bags you sometimes see hanging off the sides of bikes, over the rear wheel. You know, like saddlebags on a horse.

Wrong. Those are panniers. The saddlebag is the little teeny bag that hangs under the bike seat. Which is called the saddle, incidentally.

The whole clips issue is the same kind of thing. You've probably seen those cute little shoes cyclists wear? You know, the ones that clip onto the pedals?

Not clips. Nope. Those are actually the shoes for clipless pedals (and the shoes are cleats.)

That's because these are clips:

And then the third type of pedal you're normally going to see are flat or platform pedals. Those are the kind you grew up with on your bike, just a flat thing for you to put your foot on and push. 

So, why do you care about clips and clipless pedals?

If you're just riding bikes casually, you probably don't. Flat pedals will get you from point A to B just fine if you're not trying to go a significant distance. Most road bikes will come with clips already on them. If you tighten them up appropriately, they'll keep your feet properly positioned on the pedals and let you get a little more push on them. 

Clips aren't the easiest things to extract your feet from, to be honest, not if you have them tightened down pretty well. (Particularly depending on the type of shoes you're wearing. Shoes with smooth uppers are much easier to pull out of clips.) They can also be kind of a pain in the butt to get your feet in to. The added oomph to your pedaling is definitely a benefit, though.

Clipless pedals have the same advantages as clips, but more so. You can really pull up as well as push down, which gives you a big jump in efficiency and helps you get up to speed faster. Of course, your feet are then attached to the pedals - but in all honest, I've found it easier to get my cleats out of the clipless pedals than extract my shoes from clips at times. 

If you're going to switch, do it all the way. There are pedals you can get that have a platform on one side. The problem with those is when you're first starting out, getting the cleats to clip in can be rough, and it's even harder if you've only got the clip-in on one side of the pedal. Just do it. All the way, and don't go back.

The downside to clipless pedals (and clips) is that your feet are effectively glued to the pedals. Probably at least once, you're not going to get one of your feet pulled out in time and you'll fall over. The most dangerous time for these kind of pedals is actually when you're stopped, and it does happen if you're not paying good enough attention.

I've fallen over twice, both times in a parking lot. I've seen it happen to other people on group rides. It's not a big deal, and the thing that gets hurt the worst is your pride. You've just got to learn to get a foot free before you stop. Preferably, just free one foot; keep your other in so you can start pedaling without having to get clipped back in. As with all things, practice makes perfect.

Is it worth switching? If you're going to be riding your bike a lot, and you're doing it specifically for distance and speed, yes. A thousand times yes. Clipless pedals will change your life. 

Read me in Specutopia issue one!

The first ever issue of Specutopia is now online! Please go check it out and pick up a copy. I've got a story in there of course - Entangled. Unfortunately, it's not one of the stories that will be available as a free read online, but I assure you the magazine is well worth the cost. And not just because I'm in it! I got a copy as part of my author payment and I really enjoyed reading the other stories.

I wrote Entangled about two years ago for the short story competition for Aussiecon. The story was much shorter and less complete then, but still made it to semifinals, of which I'm very proud. It also got an honorable mention for 2011 Quarter 2 of Writers of the Future.

It's taken a bit of traveling, but I'm really glad this story finally has a home, and a good (shiny and new!) one at that.

Also in writing news, I just finished the rough draft of my third short story for the Clarion Write-a-thon.   This one is a hot mess of a story right now since I didn't have a clear plan starting out, but I think I'll be able to edit it into something I can be proud of once the write-a-thon is over.  If you want a peek at the excerpt (and the awful title) you can see it at the blog for my team.

This puts me at halfway to my writing goal, and right on time, too! I'm also just two sponsors short of my ten sponsor goal, so please consider throwing a little bit of money in the ring! Remember, you have the chance of winning naming rights to a character in one of my awesome steam punk short stories that will later be published by Musa.

Of Monsters and Men

Amazon had a sale a few days ago where a bunch of popular albums were on sale for $0.99. The main reason I went was to get a backup copy of Ceremonials by Florence+The Machine, because that's an album well worth owning two copies of. But I think I ended up buying half of what was on offer, because who can say no to new music for a buck?

The two best new things I picked up were The Lumineers by the Lumineers, which tickles the same part of my brain that likes Mumford & Sons. (Who I am hopefully going to see at the end of August squee!)

But even better was Of Monsters and Men, a band from Iceland. Their first album is called My Head Is An Animal, which is the second line from the first song, Dirty Paws.

I love this song in ways I can't even begin to describe.

It's a strange little song if you really listen to the lyrics, but the first few times I just let it wash through my head and ran along with the guitar like I really was in the words. In the comments of the youtube video I posted, someone states that the band members said in an interview the lyrics originated in a game where they went around the circle and made up the song one line at a time. I don't know if that's true, but I can believe it, the way the song is constructed.

Either way, I love Dirty Paws because it feels like a dream, or a fairy tale. And:
The forest that once was green
Was colored black by those killing machines


Beautiful.

I like every song on the album, but my other favorite is Little Talks, which also has one of the trippiest music videos I've seen in a while. But it adds that sort of fairy tale feel to the song that I love so:


And the lyrics are absolutely beautiful, a conversation between the living and the dead.

Lakehouse and Mountain Sound are also excellent. Well, the entire album is excellent, I think, but I generally tend to like songs with a more driven beat to begin with. I really hope I get a chance to see these guys in concert at some point.

Not So Amazing

To reward myself for surviving the never-ending defensive driving course from somewhere not nearly cool enough to be hell, I went to a movie. The only thing I felt motivated to see was The Amazing Spiderman.

My reaction was: ...meh.

Yes, I know my nerd card deserves to be taken away. Try it, buddy. I know kung fu.

Part of the problem here is that I just wasn't all that excited about it to begin with. Not because I have a problem with Spiderman as a character, but let's be honest. The last of the Tobey Maguire Spider man movies was only five years ago. And maybe you've managed to forget the horror that was emo Peter Parker and the inexplicable dance scene, but it's still pretty well seared into my brain. While I can normally get my juices going for a reboot (Batman Begins anyone?) I need a little more than five years.

Spiderman, how can we miss you if you never go away?

Honestly, I'm concerned that the cycle is ever-shortening between movie release and the following remake of the movie. We may be approaching some sort of remake critical gravitational collapse point, where the remake and movie it's remaking are released simultaneously, signalling we've crossed a ghastly event horizon where Hollywood has just shrunk into a singularity clothed in nothing but special effects. Spaghettification and increasing popcorn prices will inevitably follow.

My enthusiasm level was admittedly pretty low going in. But I was prepared to be entertained, and I certainly was. Don't get me wrong; I didn't emerge from this movie bearing Prometheus-levels of steaming nerdrage. Rather, I left the theater with the only thought on my mind as, "Man, I could murder the shit out of a taco salad right about now."

So that's really to say, the movie didn't make much of an impact on me.

It's got good things going for it. Andrew Garfield is definitely a superior Spiderman compared to Tobey Maguire. The dialog for Spiderman was generally superior as well - finally, all the snark and sarcasm that the comics promised us for years! (Plus, the stunts were definitely better, and hey - electronic web shooters!)

I can't say I'm impressed with Gwen Stacy as a character over Mary Jane Watson, not that this is necessarily Emma Stone's fault. (And she had some good on-screen chemistry with Andrew Garfield so I bought their relationship no problem.) There are other problems I have with Gwen Stacy, but it's all said much better here than I could, other to note that yeah, she did seem a little too perfect. Mary Jane definitely has a much richer internal life going in the first movie than poor Gwen Stacy did in this one.

I think part of the "meh" problem was have the Lizard as the villain. He wasn't all that exciting, and Rhys Ifans tried his darndest, but he's no Willem Dafoe. With an unexciting villain, the plot of the week "oh no the city is doomed" wasn't anything to really write home about.

So it was a fun way to spend an evening, and I don't regret what I paid for the ticket. But I'm not excited for a sequel the way I was with the original Spiderman, even if Tobey Maguire wasn't really the ideal Peter Parker.

It's not you, Amazing Spiderman, it's me. You should have given me more time to get over the other guy first so I could have come at you with fresh eyes and renewed enthusiasm. Too late.

Among Others

I don't think I would have read Among Others (Jo Walton) if it weren't for its Hugo nomination. That would have been a serious shame, since it's a beautiful and interesting book. I definitely think that it deserves the nomination.

SPOILERS FOLLOW


Sort of like Brave, I think Among Others isn't really best served by the way it's advertised on the back blurb. The back is all about the conflict between Mori and her mother, and makes it sound as if there's going to be some sort of epic battle that we're building toward. Which I guess could be interesting and all, but is really not as beautiful as what the book actually does.

Yes, there is a final confrontation with Mori's mom at the end. It takes up less than a page. I felt it was almost anticlimactic, after what the back cover implies.

No, rather it's a book about grief, and loss, and moving on, and growing up, and being your own person in the face of a culture that doesn't understand you. It's about finding people who like you for yourself instead of trying to force yourself to be another person for the sake of others. It's about knowing when to say no to what others want and do the brave, scary thing of deciding that it's your life and you have to live it. It's about so many big, fantastic things. I suppose it would have been hard to cram that on the back cover, but still.

The main character, Mori, is vivid and interesting. The book is written to be her diary, so it's very conversational and frank. Not only that, but frank about things that normal fifteen-year-olds things about (like sex) without apology or obfuscation. I found that very refreshing. Fifteen wasn't that long ago for me, and a lot of what she says still speaks to awkward, teenaged me that hides in the back of my head.

Most charming was that Mori is, herself, an enormous scifi and fantasy literature geek. She talks a lot about what is now considered somewhat classic scifi/fantasy, since the book is set in 1979 and 1980. I found it fun to read someone's delight as the books were coming out. Since I wasn't even born until 1980, I can't say if it's 100% accurate on what was out and when, but I'm going to assume it's pretty accurate. I strangely enjoyed Mori talking about Dragonflight and Dragonquest and eagerly awaiting The White Dragon. By the time I got to those books, they were all out and I could consume them in one long stretch. (Other than All the Weyrs of Pern, which is one I eagerly awaited myself.)

So there's a lot of scifi/fantasy bringing Mori closer to others when she finds people with similar interests. It's something I identified with a lot, and also not something that often gets touched on.

It's a quick, easy, and companionable read. So far, I think I'll have a hard time choosing between it and Deadline, though I still need to read Leviathan Wakes.

Donation made!

As I said before, I wrote Comes the Huntsman as a gift, and as such didn't feel quite comfortable keeping the payment for it. I e-mailed Mr. Hiddleston's publicist and asked if there was a charity I ought to send it to. He told me that Mr. Hiddleston supports UNICEF, which helps children all across the world.

So:

=

I had a horrible day today. This makes it just a bit better.

A Bad Part of Town

As usual, I went for a bike ride after work, since it finally stopped raining. 13 miles out - the farthest I go before turning around - the front tire of my bike went flat. I walked over to the nearest gas station and proceeded to have an adventure.

I've fixed a flat tire precisely once, and that was with my Dad's help. He made it look easy. I got two dollars worth of quarters from the guy behind the counter in the gas station (for the air pump, since my hand pump had fallen off my bike a couple days before and I couldn't go back and get it) and then sat out front to try to get the tire apart.

It wasn't as easy as Dad made it look. I struggled with the thing. A young guy walked up a few minutes in to this epic battle. He asked me what was up (flat tire) and said I picked a bad part of town to get a flat in. Then he took the tire away from me and said he could do it. I'd already skinned one of my knuckles pretty bad, and he seemed to find that pretty upsetting. (Way more upsetting than I did for sure.)

He managed to get the tire bead out of the track, and we got the innertube out. But then the next problem - the air pump didn't work. That was the point where the nice young man started getting nervous. He asked if I had any friends that could come and get me, and made me hide my camelbak behind my bike.

He was also much more nervous than I was. I guess this makes me foolish. He was from around there, and he told me, this is the bad part of town. This is dangerous. You need to go home.

I called my coworker while he watched nervously and she said she'd come pick me up. I let him know, but he just stayed there, talking, looking more nervous. I could tell he wanted to get out of there; I told him it was okay, Ashley would be by soon, he didn't have to worry.

Then he told me he was homeless and asked if I had a buck to spare, so he could get something to eat. I gave him $5 (the biggest thing I had on me) because he'd been really sweet. He seemed surprised that I gave him anything at all, and I told him to take care, and not to worry.

It took Ashley a long time to get there.

I stood around in front of the gas station, right by the door. As gas stations went, it was admittedly a bit to the scruffy side; everything was dirty, the nice guy behind the counter was basically in a plexiglass aquarium. It's likely my own stupidity, but I didn't feel scared. I spent a lot of time in Commerce City when I was an EMT, and there were some places there that scared the shit out of me. This didn't even register, for all the nice homeless guy had seemed so nervous.

What did happen:
Four different people asked me if I needed a ride, if I needed to borrow a phone, if I was okay.
A lady with a shopping cart from the Fiesta came by and I offered to watch her cart while she bought cigarettes. She gave me a really pretty smile.
I watched a group of young men (one with a blue plastic comb sticking out of his hair) hug each other and joke.
I traded the guy in the fishbowl his quarters back, which he appreciated since he was almost out.
People said hi, and smiled when I said hi back.
A mosquito bit me on the knee.

Then Ashley and her boyfriend showed up and gave me a lift back to my apartment. I managed to get my innertube patched and put a tire liner in since I figured I might as well, since the tire was out. I had some ravioli with pesto and a beer.

I'd like to think wherever I end up, there'll be a nice guy (or gal) who'll see how I'm screwing up my repair job and give me a hand. I'd like to think that when you smile at people and say hi, they smile back. I don't like the notion that I should be scared of other people as a default position.

So far I've been lucky enough to hold on to that.