Fear

There's something that I've been dancing around recently. It's not just my thesis (that ancient beast) or my interaction with a lovely young woman. Nor is it my writing, although it is inherent in the themes of my work, buried under the surface. I have a fear, an unusual fear, but it's one I need to confront.

I'm afraid of being happy.

I have no problem with serenity or comfort or joy. But actual happiness, it terrifies me. I'm afraid I won't be motivated any more if I'm happy. I'm afraid I'll forget all the things that are important to me if I'm happy. I'm afraid that I'll become complacent toward a beautiful woman if she ever decided to be with me.

That's nothing new. What is new is that I'm willing to fight that fear. Why should I keep myself from being happy? If I'm happy, doesn't that mean I've reached the goals that are important to me?

So no more keeping myself from what I really want. I'm going to be creative, I'm going to find a nice girl to hang out with. I'm going to have the things I want, what few of them there are.

Now, I've just got to figure out how I'm going to do all that.

The State of Science Fiction & Fantasy

Having just finshed reading a few books, I've been looking to read something new. As I looked over the books I have on standby, I noticed an interesting trend among many of them. In a great deal of them, the book is written from a limited first person viewpoint. And this isn't limited to those titles with a modernesque setting.

Imagine, if you will, if Star Wars had a first person point of view. Since it's about Luke, every scene has to include him, or be something he has direct personal knowledge about. Do we start with a space scene or droids? No, we get to hear about how Luke wants to go to the academy. Princess Leia? She's a hologram for two-thirds of the movie. Greedo shoots first or second? We never see Greedo--because Luke never sees Greedo, so there is no answer to that.

Speaking of characters we never see, let's talk about Grand Moff Tarkin. In a movie where everything has to involve Luke, there is no Tarkin. And, a much bigger storytelling sin, all we see of Darth Vader is a brief moment where he kills Obi-Wan Kenobi. That's right, a first-person version of Star Wars has no constant villain. I'll get back to that idea in just a bit.

Let's talk about the other end of the spectrum for a moment. The popular notes of science fiction are usually these fierce, well-thought processes of the nature of humanity as it progresses in a future environment or location in outer space. These explorations are usually developed deliberately, focusing on their central questions. They quantify their arguments and allow their characters to understand--

It's a bunch of stuck-up garbage. Don't misunderstand me, there's quite a bit of quality work out there, but for the most part, all the wonderful examinations of humanity in the future eventually blend together and look alike. And, just to point out something interesting--a lot of science fiction is starting to go over to first person point of view as well.

Can we stop doing everything in first person, please?

I love reading The Dresden Files, and I know they're in first person because a great deal of classic crime noir is in first person. But I'd really like to read something with that degree of excitement and energy where I can really get a feel for everything that's going on, not just one guy's reactions.

The problem, I think, is that there's no fiction left in today's science fiction; there's no fantasizing in today's fantasy.

The solution to this: Somebody's got to do something different. Yes, I understand that publishers need to find material to please existing fanbases. I also know that the fastest way to get noticed--should writing be good--is to stand out, show how something is different than what's already out there.

A World Suffused With Sound...

I've been prepping some thoughts for National Novel Writing Month, deciding to pursue My Soundscope. After some thinking, I realized I didn't have that motivation to really make that story work. I wanted so much to explore my "love letter" to anime, specifically RahXephon (this is the term I've used to describe the story for a while).

That's when the format dawned on me completely: I should write it as a love letter.

Not only would it be a love letter, it would be a letter from "Ayato," ultimately meant to be read by "Haruka." Neither of which are actually characters in My Soundscope. (OK, in all fairness, Ayato is going to end up being a character, but I'm going to do everything I can to hide that fact.) This love letter would also serve as a history for both the setting and for the events of the novel; Ayato mentions his past with Haruka while telling her what he's seeing.

So, from the world of anime, what stereotypes will I be exploiting?

Sinister all-powerful anti-hero? Yeah.
Pensive teenage hero? Yes.
Cute scientist girl? Stoic cyborg woman? Yes, they're the same character.
Villain with white hair, narrow eyes, and a sword? Of course.
Pseudo-apocalyptic plot? Yeah, it wouldn't be anime otherwise.
Whiny mech pilot? No, there aren't any mechs.
Tentacle monsters? Next question.
Nurse Snikt? AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Uber-powerful teenage schoolgirl? There just might be.
Gruff nihilistic swordsmen? No, I've got a nihilist character, but he doesn't use a sword.

Enough already. Add more questions if you like. I've got work to do.