Seems that with the sinking economy, the rats are abandoning ship. This guy is particularly inventive.
From the article:
A pilot wanted on financial fraud charges parachuted out of his plane over Alabama and allowed the aircraft to crash in neighboring Florida in an apparent attempt to fake his death, sheriff’s investigators said on Monday.
Recently, I got a crit on a story that I wrote about Spanish conquistadors. The reader said that my villain was a stereotype, a fact I naturally disagreed with, but then he went on to say that my characterisation wasn’t believable because Spanish conquistadors were all decended from nobility and they all had a moral code, …etc.
In effect, he was using a steretype to prove that my stereotype wasn’t believable.
Somewhere, Lady Irony snorted coffee through her nose.
I have a nervous tic that compels me to point out hypocrisy wherever I see it. I enjoy it. I’m damn good at it. Logic is my kung-fu. However, when you do this in response to a criticism, it looks like you’re getting defensive. This is the part of the story where the protagonist experiences character growth. You see, the comment was made in a pretty public forum attended by people I respect. Therefore, in order to not accidentally come across as defensive, I kept my mouth shut. I thanked him for him comments, and moved on.
Sure, I could have gotten some kind of cerebral thrill from being what David Pitchford once called an “intellectual bully”. But instead, I behaved like a professional. And you know what? It felt pretty good. Who knows? Maybe I might make a career of this thing.
So, I’m writing this article so that later, I’ll have proof that I coined this term.
The Red Baron is something that is better explained through example.
Say you are writing a WWI story. Your protagonist is fighting the Germans, but the Germans are a faceless bunch and therefore not particularly exciting. To add tension, you invent a Red Baron-type character. You take ONE German, humanize him, give him a history, give him panache… and then make him really skilled and awful (no idea if the original Red Baron was evil, this is just an example). To your readers, the Red Baron becomes a stand-in for “the Germans”, and if the Red Baron is evil, all Germans become evil. By contrast, your protagonist becomes “good”, which helps to generate sympathy.
The Red Baron makes your story go from a hero fighting a nameless, faceless enemy, to a pitched battle between well-developed, gripping characters.
Now, there’s probably a literary term for what I’m describing. If there is, please leave the name in the comments. Otherwise, it shall be forever known as “The Red Baron”!
EDIT: Okay, forever is pretty damn short. Andrew LeBlanc shortened it to A Red Baron in this article, which is well worth reading. Now what are the rest of you waiting for? Let’s popularize this thing!
If you only saw the Butterfly Effect in the theaters, it’s time to gave it another look.
First time I saw this movie was on DVD, and I thought it was amazing. It was almost perfectly constructed, with only one notable plot hole (where Ashton’s character stabs himself in the hands). I wondered at the time why it wasn’t a bigger hit.
Then I watched the Theatrical version on DVD. Wow. The ending was terrible. And I mean terrible. It’s tough not to discuss this without giving away what happens, but let’s just say that the Director’s Cut, while extremely awesome, might have been a little too challenging for the American Public, whereas the Theatrical Version was probably Watered-Down But Acceptable.
I noticed that it was the writers themselves who directed this movie, so that neatly explains its dual nature. They shot the movie they wrote, showed it to a producer who was all like, “you can’t show that to the American Public”, and were forced to re-shoot with the horrible compromise.
The message here is that if writers direct a movie, you should listen to them. Produces gave the Wachowski Brothers a lot of leeway and we got the Matrix. Matt Damon and Ben Affleck gave us Good Will Hunting. I feel certain the Butterfly Effect would have enjoyed the same success if Eric Bress and J. Mackye Gruber had been able to make the movie they wanted to make.
I found this editorial over at Baen’s Universe. Mike Resnick talks about Slush. It’s a fun article, but also pretty intimidating. In one section, Resnick talks about asking Dozois, who was the managing editor of Asimov’s at the time, how many stories he’d accepted from the slush pile, and his response was three. Congrats if you’d been published out of the slush at Asimov’s. You’ve won the lottery. The number at F&SF was slightly better–7. Notice I said slightly. Of course that doesn’t dissuade the manaical masochists like yours truly.
The whole article is illuminating, funny, and depressing. A weird combination, but it’s worth the read.
As long as I’m talking about Baen’s Universe, I have to mention my experience in their “slush pile”.
They have two slush piles. They accept stories that are submitted to them like many other magazines–through a web form. This is method number 1. Method number 2 consists of a private forum where you post your work and ask for comments. Great stories get comments, and may draw the attention of Gary Cuba, Edith Maor, or Sam Hidaka, who are the assistant editors. One of the best things about the bar is that if a story doesn’t cut the mustard, you can rewrite and resubmit it. My current submission is in its fourth (and hopefully final) revision. The fact is that it simply wasn’t ready for primetime when I first submitted it, and now it’s much, much better. Who knows? It might even make it into the magazine. A man can dream, can’t he?
Baen’s reserves two to four “Introducing” slots an issue to beginning authors. This means you can actually get into the magazine through the slush since you aren’t competing with big names for these spots. The requirements are the same for WotF, and since that publication is my only major credit (Sails & Sorcery paid pro-rates, but I doubt the print run was 5K), I’m good.
My experience at the bar has been extremely positive. I feel like I’ve really learned some lessons about craft from the guys (and gals) there. I’d recommend the experience to anyone.