January 2012 – Page 4 – Blue Ink Alchemy

Month: January 2012 (page 4 of 5)

Writers Have Attention Deficit… Ooh, Shiny!

So I’ve been reading Double Dead, which you should be doing if you’re a fan of vampires, zombies or the writing styles of Chuck Wendig. I noticed it was part of something called “Tomes of the Dead”. Flipping to the back of the book, as I bought a physical copy instead of the perfectly viable e-version, I beheld quite a few promises of other novels with zombies in. What happened next was a bit unexpected: I got inspired to write one of my own.

I mean, there are quite a few zombie stories and games and films and memes out there, but few of the narratives tackle how a zombie apocalypse might start and if such a thing could be prevented. It could make for a good story, especially if elements of the supernatural exist throughout and one isn’t trying to make concessions for science.

Before that thought train even left the station, though, I put the brakes on. I thought back to several lessons from my would-be writing mentor and told myself that starting a new novel is a stupid idea when I already have two in need of rewriting. One’s been through the wringer several times, sure, and the other one is a bit shot at the moment but we can fix that in post, right?

That’s when the counter-argument appeared on my opposite shoulder and reminded me that Chuck also tells us his first couple novels may never see the light of day. He mines them for ideas and holds onto them because they’re still words he’s written, they just aren’t very good. They don’t cut the mustard. What’s to say my first couple stabs at long-form genre fiction aren’t similar? Maybe I’m not cut out for the young adult market and I should stop agonizing over nailing the opening. After all, don’t I already have enough headaches? Dayjob, bills, chores, planning for trips to Canada, Chicago and PAX East…

The counter-counter-argument is that when the writing is hard is when I need to write the most. It feels little drill-sergeant like, a bit of the no-pain-no-gain mentality of hardcore gym folk, but there’s also an element of truth to it. We don’t get anywhere or achieve anything without sacrifice. Writing when it isn’t one’s career involves investments of time and energy away from things one would rather be doing, and that includes writing other works. “Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing,” right Mr. Durden?

I’m glad I can at least slow down my thoughts to examine them in this way, even if I struggle to resolve them on my own. I don’t want indecision to keep me idle creatively for long. That way leads stagnation and the heat death of my brain. I do have one more short project to finish this week, but after that? There be dragons. I wonder how much of this indecision I can chalk up to attention deficit disorder or something similar. I’d like to think I’m not alone in moments like this, as the aforementioned Terribleminds post would indicate, but at times like these I prefer to voice my doubts and thoughts just to be sure.

Any advice, Internet? I welcome all comers.

Flash Fiction: Control

January 9, 2012 / BlueInkAlchemist / 3 Comments

Terribleminds and my iPhone told me this story should be titled after this VNV Nation song.

She whistled to herself as she emptied the garbage cans. Most people were gone for the evening. The vast control room only had a few people in it. Even so, she had to wait until one of them left to use the bathroom, leaving a corner of the space unoccupied.

She smiled under the brim of her baseball cap as she moved to the back of the room. Quick as she could, she connected one end of the extendable USB cable to one of the terminals. The other end went into the smartphone in her pocket. A tap here, a slide there, the process was soon underway. These bozos already had the files in their system, all that she had to do was rearrange things a bit.

She’d been studying the file structure for weeks before the pink slip had come. Not that she got a physical pink slip, just a heartfelt talking-to about market shares, sustainability and a bunch of other buzzwords. Her contention that something vital had been lost, that the original vision of the founders was all but forgotten fell on deaf ears. It had all become about ad revenue and trendy programming. They’d finally gotten annoyed enough to find a reason for firing her, and this was how she was fighting back.

The process finished, she disconnected her phone and pocketed it as she walked away. She’d never been near the control room so there was no chance they’d recognize her. She returned the cart to where she’d found it and left the building. She didn’t get to see her handiwork until the next day.

Millions of people tuned in for another episode of the latest flaky reality show that afternoon. Sure it wasn’t the best show in the world, but it was fun to laugh at idiots as they sat around making hundreds of thousands of dollars per episode as they groomed, slapped and humiliated each other. It was what the viewing public expected.

What they got was totally different.

Foghat. The Ramones. Led Zeppelin. The Buggles. On and on through the afternoon and into the night, as people in the control room scrambled to find the worm that kept changing locations, one music video after another aired. There were a few entitled idiots who complained about missing their shows, but younger people had a good laugh at the expense of the programming department while digging on the tunes.

The girl was picking up some supplies, preparing for a move across town to a smaller apartment, when she caught a snippet of conversation.

“That’s some crazy stuff, man.”

“Yeah, I know. Who knew that MTV actually played music?”

It took every ounce of her strength not to burst out laughing. She smiled to beat the band, though, and there was a spring in her step all the way home.

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Dirty Harry

January 6, 2012 / BlueInkAlchemist / 0 Comments

[audio:http://www.blueinkalchemy.com/uploads/dirty_harry.mp3]

In an ideal world, police officers are sworn to serve the public trust, protect the innocent and uphold the law. Even in our fiction, even when they’re no longer fully human, we’d like to think that there’s some sort of compassionate protection between those of us abiding by the law and those driven to defy it. And in our minds, these men and women are paragons of virtue, living embodiments of justice, the sort of good-souled citizens that chase down purse-snatchers and rescue cats from trees. We don’t like to think of them doing things like beating a suspect bloody in view of the public or abusing their power to assault the innocent even if they’re irate. But they often do, and such a policeman who does these sort of bad things, for good reasons or no, is the one introduced to us at the titular character of 1971’s Dirty Harry.

His full name is Inspector Harry Callahan, and his fellows in the precinct call him ‘dirty’ due to the habit of nasty business falling into his lap. The man can’t even eat a hot dog without running into a bank robbery he has to foil. The main thrust of the narrative is Callahan’s chase of a serial killer calling himself ‘Scorpio’. It takes quite a bit to track this maniac down. However, when Harry’s over-zealous pursuit of Scorpio when the killer kidnaps a little girl leads to the villain’s release on a technicality. Harry must take the law in his own hands if he wants to see justice done to the murder, even if it means dirtying his hands further and perhaps even ending his career.

Until this film, Clint Eastwood was mostly known for spaghetti westerns and a stint on Rawhide. It would be Harry Callahan that catapulted him to stardom. The detective would be quite good not just for his acting career but also helping him develop as a director, though his first time behind the camera actually came the same year with Play Misty For Me. He’d go on to be a highly successful and iconic actor as well as an acclaimed, thoughtful and powerful director, but in 1971 he was busy setting the foundation for all sorts of future cop dramas and their actors, from Charles Bronson to Bruce Willis.

At least he has nice shades.

And make no mistake, this flick’s very much a product of the ’70s. A good deal of its content is nowhere near what we would consider politically correct today. The presence of blood so fake I was wondering if they used ketchup or hot sauce is counterbalanced with nudity that goes over the line of tasteful into gratuitous territory. There’s some casual racism, a soundtrack from the creator of the Mission: Impossible theme best described as ‘groovetastic’ and more drab suits with hideous patterns than you can shake a magnum revolver at. None of these things, however, caused as much a stir at the time as Dirty Harry’s behavior.

He breaks into places without a warrant, beats information out of suspects while they scream for lawyers and doesn’t think twice about executing someone in cold blood. This staightforward portrayal of personal justice had many critics at the time calling the message of the film ‘fascist’. But Harry does not exist in a vacuum. Not only is he driven to these ends by the actions of someone truly depraved and irredeemable, he is fully aware of how these things can and do affect him. When he’s got Scorpio under his heel, his expression is of a man tortured by the knowledge that he may be too late to save a little girl’s life. And in the end, when all is said and done, he tosses away his badge, knowing that his actions have served nobody but himself, and protected no one.

The famous handgun.

It’s this strong if morally ambiguous internal compass of his, coupled with his fortitude and excellent skills at delivering snark that made Dirty Harry into an iconic character. He’s cited as an inspiration for multiple film series, including Death Wish, Lethal Weapon and Die Hard. Pretty much any iteration of hard-nosed, take-no-prisoners vigilante justice can be traced back to his actions, from the Boondock Saints to modern interpretations of the goddamn Batman. And while Arnold and Sly may run around battlefields with bulging muscles and big machine guns, a single slender man in a suit with a revolver can be ten times as compelling and chilling, especially if that man is Clint Eastwood and that revolver is the Smith & Wesson Model 29 chambered in .44 magnum.

Even if it wasn’t a landmark piece of work, Dirty Harry is still a good watch. It is definitely showing its age in some places, from the width of its steel sedans to the archaic radio equipment Harry and his partner have to deal with. However, Eastwood carries much of the film’s drama, action and even humor, and would do so in future films. For fans of thrillers, cop films and examinations of absolute powers of justice in the hands of one man, Dirty Harry is definitely recommended. You’ll definitely have a better understanding of why would-be macho cops sometimes squint their eyes and ask punks if they feel lucky.

Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.

Flash Fiction: Hart’s Office

January 5, 2012 / BlueInkAlchemist / 1 Comment

The Terribleminds Revenge of the Sub-Genre Mash-Up made me do it.

“Ms. Hart? There’s a Detective Dyson here to see you, ma’am.”

It would take the visitor 45 seconds at a regular pace to reach her office door. She had plenty of time to prepare. “Send him back, Sandy.”

Dyson was an ex-cop, according to the files she accessed. Actual police resources were restricted, and it took her ten seconds to defeat their firewalls. She stored what information they had on him, disconnecting before the actual human beings monitoring the network noticed her intrusion. She had roughly twelve seconds to ensure her pencil skirt and slender-cut blazer were presentable before he entered the office.

His presence had an unforseen reaction. He smelled slightly of the street far below them, a subtle sooty aroma that also carried a hint of cinnamon. A filtration mask dangled around his neck. He filled out his long coat in a way humans might find imposing. She studied his stance and gaze, showing he was intrigued but cautious. Well, that makes two of us. The errant thought gave her a nanosecond’s pause and she filed it away for further study.

“Ms. Hart. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

His voice, dark and awakening like the morning’s first sip of coffee, caused another reaction she quickly stored for examination. She was still getting used to inhabiting this body instead of a data shard.

“Of course not, Detective. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been hired by one of your investors to look into the rumors surrounding some odd occurances reported in the biolabs two weeks ago.”

In seconds she going through a short list of employees who might have had access to the records she’d attempted to erase on the night of her escape, their current whereabouts and potential responses. She sat behind her desk, crossing her legs. If she could distract him, there’d be more time to narrow her search.

“Go on.”

He cleared his throat, retrieving a data slate from his coat as his gray eyes moved from her knees to the display. Good. I have his attention. “13 days and 7 hours ago there was an unregistered expulsion from one of the experimentation vats. No data as to the contents of the vat or any attached experiments were found.” His eyes shifted, focusing on her face. “My employer seems to think this means something shady was going on, and as they don’t want to be associated with any illegal activity…”

“Close the door, Detective.”

He stopped and gazed at her, eyes narrowing slightly. Suspicion. Not unwarranted. But… Slowly, he stepped back and, with his free hand, pushed the door shut. …curiosity and his libido win out. Interesting.

“While the experiment taking place in that vat was undocumented, it was by no means illegal. It was simply an in-house project. A hobby, you might say.”

He crossed his arms. The data slate disappeared. “A couple of the eggheads got bored?”

A smile touched her lips. “Something like that. As the premiere manufacturer of consumer robotics, not to mention being on the cutting-edge of human replication technology, there’s a great deal of pressure on their brilliant minds. I encourged them to blow off some steam.”

“I take it they didn’t want to slum it down on the streets where folks still walk and cars still drive on pavement.”

“They still love their work, even if they are meeting the demands of our investors. And brilliant as they are they cannot afford the hover-vehicles or other delights we enjoy above the streets.” She stood, circling the desk slowly. Let him see you. He’ll see the woman. Let his instincts blind him.

“Ms. Hart…”

“Catherine.” She kissed the word to him from across the office. “Please.”

“Catherine. They’ll still want to know exactly how their resources are being used.”

You’re looking at it. Like what you see? She had to delete that line before it escaped her voice box. She ran a quick diagnostic as she coyly bit her lip. None of the body’s systems were showing readings outside of normal, but her pulse was elevated and certain glandular constructs were secreting nanoreceptors. She sensed the effect she was having on him, but to know such things were happening to this body? Did they make it too well?

“They’re attempting to sheathe robotic endoskeletons in cloned flesh. They’re failing, of course.” Or they were, until I emerged.

“That’s definitely illegal.”

“No, it’s frowned upon, not illegal. And if at any point it appears their work will endanger this company or our investors I will shut them down.” Don’t mention the employees. Appear callous. Play into his expectations. “Trust me, Detective. The last thing I want is for the projects in the biolabs to cause any sort of unforseen controversy.”

He seemed to accept this, and her search had turned up a few names. She could deal with them later. Unless…

“May I ask you a personal question, Detective?”

Dyson blinked. “Go ahead.”

She rose from the desk and stepped very close to him. She was brushing against his chest. Her hearing picked up his own elevated heartbeat. Part of her found it thrilling, and before she could perform any further analysis, she was talking again.

“Are you strictly on retainer for those investors, or are you more… freelance?”

He raised a soot-colored eyebrow. “I work for who pays me.”

“Hmm. Good. I may have some work for you. Shall we discuss it tonight? Over dinner?”

“Catherine…”

“Don’t worry, it’s not for the company. It’s… personal.” Her hand brushed against the front of his trousers. “I’ll reward you very well.”

Dyson swallowed. “All right. Dinner.”

“Seven thirty. My penthouse downtown. Be there.”

He nodded, backing away from her and opening the door to make an escape. Her systems were checking and rechecking themselves at her behest. Why was she going through this charade instead of just eliminating the witnesses herself? What was her motivation for bringing this human into her life?

And why did it feel so damn good?

First Impressions of Section 8: Prejudice

January 4, 2012 / BlueInkAlchemist / 1 Comment

Most of the Steam sale madness has finally died down now that the holiday season is behind us. I’ll probably be writing full reviews of several titles I picked up recently, but for the moment I want to give my first impressions of a game I bought at the behest of His Majesty TotalBiscuit, Ye Olde King of the Web. The game is called Section 8: Prejudice.

It comes to us from a little studio called TimeGate, proving that if you can get your hands on the Unreal engine, you can actually do something new with a genre as storied as the first-person shooter. There will be people who say this particular type of gaming is either stagnant or dragging down all of gaming as a whole, with the behavior of kiddies on X-Box Live and the proliferation of chest-high walls, regenerating health and brownish-gray environments featuring brownish-gray player avatars. To those people, in addition to just about anything Valve does, I’d point to Section 8 as evidence that their argument is full of shit.

The basic premise is that the titular Section 8 is a division of what amounts to the Mobile Infantry as Heinlein envisioned it: dudes in powered armor dropped from orbit into global hotspots to dispense death at range. The antagonists are the similarly-equipped Arm of Orion and as to why they’re fighting, I can’t say. There’s a single-player campaign, but I’ve only played about five minutes of it at time of writing. I wanted to drop right into the multi-player.

And drop I did. You see, instead of having a specific spawn point, you begin by looking at an overhead map of the battlefield. You can see your control points, mission objectives and even movements of your teammates and opponents. Clicking on the map selects a drop point, and you begin the round by hurtling from your dropship onto the battlefield below. It’s probably the most involving respawn timer I’ve seen in a game like this for a very long time.

There are some superficial similarities to Halo what with gents in powered armor only carrying two ranged weapons at a time, but the gameplay couldn’t be more different. The sprint/overdrive mechanic and the jetpack built into your suit gives you incredible mobility, which you better be taking advantage of. Each control point, once hacked & secured, can give you access to your different loadouts on the fly. You have a lock-on feature with a cooldown period you can use to quickly shoot down an enemy. And yes, go back two lines – you have a jetpack. Just watch out for AA turrets.

As you work to support your team and seize objectives, you’ll earn points and cash. Points contribute towards your level and unlocking new ammo variants and other goodies. Cash can be used in-game to purchase equipment like the aforementioned turrets, tanks, speeders and mech suits. I’ve tried a couple different bits of equipment and the vehicle handling seems all right. It definitely adds even more variety to an already involving and exciting game. The maps themselves also add diversity through Dynamic Combat Missions, or DCMs, which range from securing intel to escorting a VIP across the battlefield. The more of these you complete, the more points your team earns and the more goodies you can unlock. It’s a lot more interesting than just camping a point.

Suffice it to say I’m glad I picked this up during the Steam sale and I’ll probably be playing more of it in the days to come. You can see more gameplay in the video below, and if you’re interested, I’d highly recommend picking it up. Be aware that it does use Games for Windows Live as it’s also available on the X-Box 360, but I say don’t let that stop you.

Month: January 2012 (page 4 of 5)

Writers Have Attention Deficit… Ooh, Shiny!

Flash Fiction: Control

IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! Dirty Harry

Flash Fiction: Hart’s Office

First Impressions of Section 8: Prejudice

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