Posted by APK in brainmeats, writing | 0 Comments
Character traits.
A funny thing happened to me on the way to the Plot Store. You know, the Plot Store, it’s where writers buy their ideas. Yeah, we make noise about how they just happen but really we buy them from the Plot Store. No you can’t go there and no I won’t tell you where it is (Yes you can and yes I will, it’s on the corner of Obvious Dr. and Shut Up and Write Blvd).
I was thinking about a story I’m working on, and realized I wanted to tie an idea from Over There to the one Over Here and that they just needed a hinge point. A character to be the go-between, to bridge the two ideas. Not a stretch, it’s already kinda in my idea set for that character to be the type of person who could be that bridge.
So far it was a normal trip to the Plot Store.
Until I thought about that bridge character, fleshing them out more and listening to the noise in my head about who they were. And I realized they were trans. This is, of course, not a big deal. It isn’t a plot point, even. It’s just who this char is. And I realized I hadn’t written a trans character yet. So time to do more research and talk to some people I know and really dig in. Because while it isn’t a plot point, it will in fact, come up, and at that point I need to do it right. Is this a big thing? Not in the book.
But come on. I write female leads a lot. And gay male leads. And white and non-white and … all sorts of characters, as they occur to me whatever and whoever they may be. But this is my first trans character. I wanna get it right, even if it is just something discussed once or twice in the entirety of the project.
The best part is, for me, it is in no way an attempt to put a trans character in a story. It just happened. It’s natural for the tale and feels right. Which means I’m in no way forcing it and having to sand edges to make things fit. I hate doing that, for any reason.
But when I find myself able to, and naturally moving in the direction of, having more diverse and realistic portrayals of humanity in my stuff it makes me happy. It means, for me, that my brain sees the world in so many different stripes and possibilities and uses them all to reflect the world I build from the world I see. It makes my fiction stronger, it makes the world a bit fuller and it lets me stretch as a writer and a human.
So yeah. I’m happy. It’s the little things.
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Fast loris!
We all know, of course, about the slow loris:
Yes, the Slow Loris, ticklish little creature that is the star of many a YouTube video, despite being poisonous. Whatever.
Today I am proud to introduce you to the world’s only super hero loris. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:
Look at him blur across the forest in an effort to stop crime and take a nap! Yes, folks, it’s Fast Loris!
* Faster than a slow loris!
* More Ticklish than a slow loris!
* Able to nap in more buildings than a slow loris!
Yes, it’s Fast Loris, champion of Earth and a hero to the people!
He’s a loris! And he isn’t slow! He’s:
Posted by APK in brainmeats | 1 Comment
The long run.
I am a white male. I can find representations of myself on every channel, in the majority of books, comics and you-name-it. No other group on Earth is as well represented as I am in the media.
Now. Why isn’t that widely accepted and known and understood as a problem? By, you know, other white dudes. Everyone else gets it. It’s hard not to get it when you can’t find yourself in pop culture as anything but a painful stereotype, token addition or slow underhand toss.
You can not deny the sun when you have no shade.
But when you have enough shade you can make every excuse in the world, can’t you? Because the sun isn’t cooking you alive just then, so you have time. It’s easier.
Still, add a black character to a TV show. White dudes start bitching. Since “those folk” already have other black characters why do they need this one, too? “We allowed them to have the Cosby’s and the Fucking Fresh Prince, what more do they want?” Oh, but it isn’t racist. Don’t be silly. It’s just a question of fairness, you silly white folk somehow decide.
Because when you have one million jelly beans and someone brings a bag with one hundred jelly beans and gives eighty to you, and then hands twenty to someone else, you can’t grasp how that is fair at all. You got them all last time, didn’t you? You were not consulted about this change and would like those twenty jelly beans, please! Precedent has been set, and that sort of thing isn’t supposed to be subject to change all willy-nilly just because other people might like jelly beans of their own. Let them create their own jelly beans, even though you pretty much own the factories that they’re made at and won’t give fair business to anyone else. That’s just the way it is, you insist. It isn’t unfair. It’s just happenstance.
What, there’s a woman who wants a character to be a hero, just like the males get? Also a trans person? Other races, other genders and sexes and… “What next, everyone will want equal say and fair representation in stories and to see themselves reflected back at them in media?”
Well. Yes.
And they’ll get it. Oh, you might not want that to happen in a million years, but here’s a little secret: I’m a white mostly cisgender male. And I write more leads who are not white or male (in whatever combination of that works at the time) in my stories than I do white males. I’m not alone. This isn’t just “those outsiders” trying to steal your precious stranglehold on the universe. Oh no.
The equality is coming from inside the house.
Oh, it’ll take a while. And those of us who are white males will never be leading this charge. That’s not our role here. But we’ll be here. Supporting it. Trying to help.
And laughing at you all really hard as you drown.
Because here’s the other secret: I want to thank you! I do. I want to thank each of you who posts on twitter, or spews your hate in public. You are making a list of yourselves for the rest of us. You’re making it easier, not harder, in the long run. You’re coming out and declaring yourselves enemies of the future, and enemies of basic human respect and rights and dignity. How has that ever worked, in history, for any group in the long run? Seriously. Check it.
Then realize we are welcoming you to the start of the long run.
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The Glory, The Glory – ep 12
HEllo from the land of The Glory, The Glory episode 12! The only weekly podcast hosted and posted by Aidan Morgan and Adam P. Knave. We had yet another interesting week, discussing M*A*S*H, Saga, The Cabin in the Woods, Hunger Games and much, much more!
You can subscribe to the podcast only RSS feed right here at this link and also click the button below to listen/subscribe to the podcast on iTunes:
As always, you can also just hit play below, as well. Thanks, and we hope you enjoy!
Posted by APK in stuff and things | 0 Comments
The sun.
I joke about the Ball of Skyfire. But then you see something like this (and by all means stop and make it full screen and watch it several times) and – well shit, you have to admit the universe is a pretty awesome place to live, isn’t it?
Look at that. That’s your sun. The thing that keeps us alive. A giant, ever-exploding ball of fire hanging in space. And thanks to living in the future I can see it in such detail and clarity that all the special effects in the world look cheap.
This is where we live. Never forget that. You live on a spinning rock that shares space with countless other spinning rocks. Many of them orbit balls of pure fire and destruction, and that’s a good thing.
So never forget: The universe is awesome.
Read MorePosted by APK in fiction snippet | 0 Comments
Jake
Started working, on the side, on a new novel. Now, it is in the early stages, first draft and all of that… but this is me and I like to share. So here’s the opening bits of it, as they stand now. And this is all you get:
Where to begin…
The gods had run out of bullets. This was, understandably, going to be a problem for everyone. The gods didn’t exactly shop at Wal*Mart or some other chain store that sold you ammo along with half a side of beef. No, the gods created ammunition. Along with sunshine, false hope, spicy salsa and tiny birds, various caliber ammo had become one of the god’s chief exports. Right from heaven, delivered to your door in thirty minutes of the next victim’s free.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the god’s messenger service stank, which accounted for the number of murder victims that go free every year. Still, we’re not here to discuss the god’s various short comings vis a vis filling out FedEx forms.
Without bullets no one could fire their guns. Just empty clikclicklickclick noises followed by frustration, checking clips and throwing guns at each other as if they would accelerate to bullet-like speeds and become, themselves, the bullets they once fired.
The gods looked down, wondered what happened and checked the warehouse. They found that someone had broken into the warehouse and set it on fire, setting off every bullet in present and future at the same time. This caused, as one might expect, a bit of a mess. So the gods thought and thought and consulted with each other and came up with a plan.
And so, with a wave of various miracle causing hands, the Gods instantly replaced every missing bullet in the world with tiny, gunpowder launchable, dinosaurs.
No, really. It worked pretty much the same as bullets. Have a gun, pull the trigger. Tiny dinosaur flies out at high speed and latches onto a target. Once latched on the dinosaur proceeds to do dinosaur things (i.e. – biting and clawing and, to be fair, pooping) on the target. Having a life span of only minutes, the dinosaurs die quick enough and rot. They also didn’t do as much property damage. Fire a dinosaur into the side of a house and it would gnaw your rosebushes for a few minutes and then help fertilize the place. They actually worked out much better than bullets. Except for reloads. You could lose a finger reloading.
But then this guy.
Jake “Ka-boing” Smith was a gunsmith and dinosaur wrangler. He was bad at one job and good at the other. He also had a mayonnaise fetish but that doesn’t much to do with the rest of this story. I mean, it makes its occasional appearance, so I thought maybe I should warn you early but I wouldn’t dwell on it. Jake can still get it up, regardless of the mayonnaise situation near-by. Mayo just makes it easier.
Jake was sitting in his office, eating lunch, one day when it happened. He sat on a stool, stuffing leaking out of old rips in the leather cushion. Dinosaur eggs sat on his desk in a little holster, waiting for them to hatch so he could load up a rifle. He ate some lunch, a simple sandwich, nothing fancy at all. And yes, damn it, it had mayo on it. Are you happy now?
And as he sat there, shifting on his torn seat, trying to focus past the rich, creamy smell from his lunch and keep an eye on work, the clock ticked away. Tick tock tick tock tick tock. He didn’t notice, but Jake blinked on every other tock.
Tick tock tick tockblink tick tock tick tockblink.
The door to his shop opened.
Tick tock tick tockblink tick tock tick tockblink.
A man walked through.
Tick tock tick tockblink tick tock tick tockblink.
He raised a gun and leveled it at Jake who felt time slow down around him.
Tick tock.
Tick tockblink.
Tick tock.
Tick tockblink.
Tiny dinosaurs flew through the air, right at Jake’s face and chest. He screamed and tried to dive for cover. The dinosaurs flew closer still, creating tiny vortices in the air like a bad movie special effect circa the year 2000.
Tick tock.
Tick tockblink.
Tick tock.
Tick tockblink.
And then the dinosaurs exploded into butterflies.
Time sped back up. Jake looked down at his chest. A rare, beautiful and precious Monarch butterfly flapped as it clutched Jake’s shirt.
“Well fuck me,” Jake said, dropping his sandwich and looking at the man with the gun, “not this again.”
Read MorePosted by APK in podcast, the glory the glory | 0 Comments
The Glory, The Glory – ep 11
Welcome back, and say hello to Episode 11 of The Glory, The Glory! The only weekly podcast hosted and posted by Aidan Morgan and Adam P. Knave. This week we covered such grand topics as a new First/Last project, Endgame, The Canadian Encyclopedia, Community, Magic City, the place of technology in future-based TV, and then even more, as we go a bit mad.
You can subscribe to the podcast only RSS feed right here at this link and also click the button below to listen/subscribe to the podcast on iTunes:
As always, you can also just hit play below, as well. Thanks, and we hope you enjoy!
Posted by APK in comics | 0 Comments
Easter!
It’s that time, once again, as it has been every year since 2004, to post the annual Easter comic! And here you go!
Posted by APK in stuff and things | 4 Comments
Own Your Uggly Shoes
What is it with people who wear Uggs. They don’t own the fact these are ugly, Thundarr the Barbarian styled hot messes of bootdom. It isn’t like they didn’t mean to buy the boots. They aren’t vampires.
“N-no, I was home, and in bed and I heard this rustling noise by the window. Some… there were some boots, they were floating, you know, in the air, and I thought, well, I thought that was strange. But I didn’t want to know, I was asleep, maybe it was a dream. But they kicked the window gently, just a soft tapping. Tap tap tap tap. And so I opened the window. The boots, they… they asked to be let in. I wanted to say no but I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t! Well the boots got in and they… I’m not sure. My feet hurt but then I fell asleep. When I woke up I assumed it’d been a dream but now… look! Look at my feet! I didn’t buy these boots and I can’t take them off!”
That shit right there does not happen. Uggs are not Vampire Footwear. They do not foist themselves on unsuspecting feet. People go out. They see these things. They pay money for them. They put them on. Then they go outside.
And yet to talk to them they don’t see the problem. I’m not saying people shouldn’t wear Uggs. I’m saying they should admit they’re wearing some ugly-ass footwear. That’s all. It’s fine! Own that crap and enjoy it! See also: Crocs. Just, come on. Admit it, move on, and enjoy.
Read MorePosted by APK in brainmeats, comics | 0 Comments
Social Justice
You know what DC doesn’t really have? The Defenders. They don’t have a team of, as Graeme McMillan put it: “Some friends and the random folk who get sucked into their adventures.” I love the Defenders concept. I always have. But I also love the DCU, and with the whole New 52 thing going on I wondered what would be the right kick-off for a DC-Defenders team. And then it hit me. The Justice League Detroit.
For those that don’t know the old JL:Detriot, they were this odd Justice League team made up of Aquaman, Martian Manhunter and all new characters. It didn’t go over well with a lot of readers. Eventually they were pretty much all killed. The problem was – I totally dug the JL:Detriot concept (even if the book itself didn’t seem to always live up to it).
And I think we could redesign the four new heroes, and make the JL:Detriot into the DCU’s Defenders. To assist me in this grand undertaking I have recruited the always effervescent Robert Wilson IV. A great artist, he will bring life to my crazy ramblings here and be designing the new versions of the characters. Please note the character names (code names and real names) are not ours. We didn’t invent Paco Ramone. I swear.
So who are they? Well…
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