When you publish your own work, you have a lot of balls to keep in the air. You have to keep writing, first and foremost, but you also have to keep up the sales work, illicit opinions and reviews, get a feel for how the work is being received, so on and so forth. As much as I like to travel, seeing new places and reconnecting with acquaintances, this can eat in to those other tasks.
I’ve made some progress on Cold Streets, and I have a fairly good notion on when I’m going to wrap the first draft. It’s important to set deadlines: you always want to have a goal to shoot for, and in my case, it provides a timeline to which I feel I must adhere. It can be difficult for me to manage my time properly, and establishing deadlines helps with that. I’m at the stage where I’m picturing certain key scenes in my head, and just need to fill in the blanks between them on paper.
Having made Cold Streets my primary writerly focus for the time being, other projects have been put aside but are still fairly important to me. I’ve been thinking about the serial nature of old-school pulp sci-fi, and since my idea for that genre hews closely to those sensibilities, I’m toying with the idea of posting the project serially here, or perhaps in a separate webspace, in lieu of these writer reports.
Leave a comment to tell me what you think of this idea. Would you be interested to read some slightly old-school pulp science fiction instead of this somewhat dry blow-by-blow of my writing progress every week? Or is it a bad idea to split my focus? I need your thoughts, Internet.
Some of our stories are hundreds or even thousands of years old. Every once in a while, a book or TV series will claim it has an ‘all-new’ story, but in reality most of the plot points and character turns have probably been told before. This is likely not a conscious decision of the writer, and it in no way dilutes the deeper truth the story strives towards, but it cannot be denied that the roots of most stories run very deep into our past.
Mankind has been telling stories since before language was something you wrote. Around fires and in caves, they relayed tales of great hunts, related how rivals were overthrown, and wondered about dreams and the world beyond what they knew. People wanted to learn about the triumphs and tragedies of others, and sharing these experiences enhanced them, gave them weight, and made them timeless. While more than a few of these simple, primal stories may have had some details forgotten, threads of them can be seen here and now, in the 21st century.
Themes and patterns such as the hero’s journey and good men struggling against their own natures as much as they do a rival or the elements persist because they still have something to teach us. Just as the ancient civilizations of the world found inspiration in their gods and champions, so too do we find it in big screen heroes and, occasionally, the actors who portray them. Myths have always been stories larger than life, speaking in broad terms to draw in as many minds as possible, and at the core of many you will find one of those timeless threads. The hero may be looking for his own identity in the face of a world that wants to redefine or obscure it. A good man is betrayed by a friend because of jealousy or greed. Tragedy causes someone to dedicate themselves to the pursuit of justice. None of these ideas are new, but the fact that they continue to captivate us means they are not without merit.
Our new myths connects us to the old, entertaining and educating and provoking us to think just as they have for thousands of years. Your message is still important, even if someone else has conveyed it before. What’s new about that message is how you convey it. Stories may share common elements but your voice is unique. Let it be heard. The new mythology needs new myth-makers, new storytellers to keep our stories going further into the future. Are you going to be one of them?
Has it really been almost a year since I last discussed Guild Wars 2? Sheesh, it’s like I’ve been busy or something. But the release of the game is now a mere 20 days away, and I am finding myself a little flummoxed with indecision. Normally, with games such as this, I will have a main character with whom I’ll do the bulk of my adventuring and role-playing, and several alts with which I’ll dabble. But with the game eschewing traditional ideas of class roles and boasting a diverse stable, I’m not sure where I’ll begin. I’ve discussed the races previously, and now it’s time to tackle the professions.
The Warrior, Ranger, and Thief professions are, perhaps, the most traditional ones that will be available. Like all professions in Guild Wars 2, however, each has access to a variety of weapons, and the equipment you carry determines the skills you have available. Warriors are almost always in-your-face damage dealers, but it’s also possible to carry a shield for some damage mitigation or switch to a rifle when you want to deal damage at range. Similarly, while Rangers are traditionally striking from afar, they can also use dual axes or a sword and dagger combination to get up close and personal. While a Thief can go the traditional daggers route or keep their distance with a brace of pistols, they also can actively steal from an opponent, gaining a situational weapon and skills to change up their role on the fly.
A few of the professions are concerned with controlling the battlefield. Engineers use turrets, mines, grenades, and elixirs tossed from their tool belts to either help their allies or hinder their foes. The tools available change based on the loadout the Engineer has chosen. Guardians, as well, have abilities that can assist those around them or wreck havoc on the enemy. The Guardian combines their variety of weapons with the drawing out of one of three virtues – Courage, Justice, or Resolve – to produce effects that hinder enemy movement, protects allies, or turns the very ground beneath their feet into the best place to be for carrying on the fight.
The aforementioned professions fall into the categories of ‘Soldier’ or ‘Adventurer’. ‘Scholars’ are what we would traditionally consider “magic-users” but even among these professions, there is diversity and depth. Elementalists focus on attacks that utilize one of the four elements – Earth, Air, Water, or Fire – and the character can switch between them at will just as they can their equipment. Necromancers steal the life force of their foes, using it to fuel their dark magic and weaken the enemy while summoning minions to do their bidding. Last but never least, the Mesmer is a master of illusion and misdirection, distracting the enemy with clones and phantasms that can shatter and cause all sorts of mayhem for anybody unfortunate enough to be standing nearby.
The professions that hold the most interest for me are Engineer, Guardian, and Mesmer. Engineer should come as no surprise since I played ranged classes in previous MMOs almost exclusively. However, the Guardian’s various Virtues and variety of ways to support the party while controlling opponents is very appealing, as is the Mesmer’s plethora of illusionary abilities. I also have character write-ups for each of these classes. I will simply have to pick one when Guild Wars 2 releases in just a few short weeks…
Bait Dog is one of the hardest reads I’ve ever experienced. Not because any of the language was obtuse, mind you: Chuck Wendig, as always, writes smoothly and conversationally. It also wasn’t because there are any plot problems or discordant character moments. It was hard to read because it deals with the ugly and absolutely repulsive world of dog fighting.
Atlanta Burns is a girl who gets shit done. We established this in Shotgun Gravy. Word has gotten around, and now other people want her to get shit done for them. A rich girl hires her to find out why her dog crawled home missing her claws and teeth. Atlanta isn’t much of a dog person, but she needs the money so she takes the case. Her friend Shane seems to think this means she’s given up on finding who killed their gay friend Chris, while evidence suggests the young man committed suicide. The more Atlanta kicks over the rocks hiding this depraved world of dogs teaching other dogs to kill, the more she finds animals far worse behind them, the sort of animals who would stage a suicide just to murder a boy who likes other boys.
Gritty tales such as this are necessary in worlds where people would much rather invest in canned sequels and safe but mediocre remakes. People may think that sordid affairs and underhanded people of this nature only exist in certain places far from their homes. Stories like Bait Dog remind you that nothing could be further from the truth. Having lived near and moved through the areas of Pennsylvania described in the world of Atlanta Burns, the idea of dogs being tortured and murdered for profit so close to my home is absolutely chilling. And that’s only part of the story.
So many people say “it gets better” when it comes to bullying, to hatred, to racism and homophobia and every other type of evil, ignorant behavior that seethes in the hearts of human beings. But when you see a friend with an eye swollen shut because of bullies, or crying because of narrow-minded hate, or hanging from the end of a rope, it’s hard to believe that it will ever get better. Atlanta has her own way of making things better. It usually involves a squirrel gun, a collapsible baton, or a big can of bear mace.
It can be hard to remember that Atlanta’s a teenager. She goes about her business with what seems like certainty to the outside observer. But from inside our head, we see how much she flies by the seat of her pants. We keenly feel her lack of confidence in herself, her concerns for her mother and her friends, and her absolute intolerance for the intolerant. In a world where polite society would have her working out a compromise, learning to forgive and forget, where compassion is expected to be levied against hatred, Atlanta answers hatred with hatred, blood for blood. So all-consuming is her thirst for basic, natural justice that she will risk everything, anything, to see it done. She’s a pint-sized pubescent Punisher.
Atlanta’s stories, so far, work on very basic levels and play on raw nerves. This both makes it hard, at times, to read, but also worth the time and effort to read it all the way to the end. The story builds in a very organic and visceral way, pulling off plot twists and character revelations in a fantastic way. As difficult as some of the mental imagery can be to process, by the time you’re in a hard-to-read section the tale’s already got you by the balls, and you can’t not finish reading it.
If you like very human protagonists who kick ass, if you want to see true evil punished, if you love your pets, Bait Dog is for you. Know going in that it’s going to hurt. Remember that the hurt will be worth it. Take a deep breath, and dive in.
In lieu of the usual flash fiction challenge, as Chuck is setting up a rather interesting one for next week, here’s a sneak preview at the opening to Cold Streets, sequel to the novella Cold Iron which is available now on Amazon and Barnes & Noble for the e-reader of your preference. Enjoy.
He probably thought he was going to get lucky. What he got was bitten.
Bethany savored the taste of him as she sat beside him in the back of her limo, her hands on his shoulders and her fangs in his neck. He offered no resistance, made no discernible noise. As much as Bethany enjoyed the occasional meal being fully conscious of the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain provided by her bite, she didn’t have the time to make this hapless businessman acquainted with the benefits of her friendship. A little special secretion dulled his senses better than a whole bottle of the cheap whiskey he’d been pounding at the bar. She could taste it in his blood, and as much as she detested bottom shelf swill, there was something deliciously decadent about a bit of sleaze like this.
She didn’t want to kill him. Not that she had any sort of sympathy for this type of corporate human, it would simply be too much of a mess. She slowly drew her fangs out of his skin, flexed her tongue to coax a little more of the sour-tasting saliva into her mouth, and licked his wounds. They closed slowly, leaving him disheveled and disoriented, but physically unharmed. His dizziness and hard-on would fade, but he’d have no specific memory of what she did to him.
She kicked open the slightly ajar door of the limo and pushed him onto the sidewalk. His unfocused eyes tried to fix on her. She blew him a kiss and slammed the door.
“Drive.”
The limo took off into the street. Bethany leaned back and sighed. The feeling of warm, live blood moving through her veins never got old. Humans had a saying about sex being like pizza, in that it was very rare for it to be truly bad, and in her mind, Bethany equated feeding to both things. She could eat pizza, even if she got nothing from it, and sex still had some benefits, but neither of them did what fresh blood could for her. Her eyes closed and she languished in the feeling, the vitality, letting it electrify her limbs and invigorate her senses. She loved how the blood made her feel, how it compelled her to fight and fuck and feed even more, how even a sleazy lowlife like that one could make her come alive.
“You have a little on you.”
Her eyes opened and she looked towards the front of the limo. The divider was down between her and the driver, and he’d adjusted the rear view mirror to look at her. She saw his hazel eyes gazing at her, and caught a glimpse of herself. The businessman meal had clumsily unbuttoned most of her blouse, her long red hair was a little disheveled, and splotches of red were showing on her chin and collarbone. She reached for a towel near the miniature bar on one side of the limo, dabbing at the blood until it was gone. She sat back and fixed up her blouse and hair.
