By ‘good’ I don’t just mean extravagant malevolence. Ming the Merciless is a fun character, but he doesn’t have a lot of depth to him. Remember, villains are people too. They have backgrounds, motivations, allegiances, and secrets just like anybody else does. Leave that out of your story and you risk losing audience members to disbelief.
It’s one of the things I didn’t get quite right in Cold Iron. The ultimate villain did not get a great deal of time. His motivations are somewhat shallow and his villainy is, for the most part, superficial. Being a mystery on one level, I did try to keep the identity of the villain somewhat ambiguous, but the trade-off meant I couldn’t spend too much time expanding upon him. I don’t think the story necessarily suffers because of this, but it is a criticism I agree with.
Approaching Cold Streets, I knew a new villain would be appearing, and I am taking the time to draw him out as a character before he engages in truly villainous behavior. I think people need to understand his mindset and motivation in order for me to illustrate why he, and others like him, are dangerous. But I also want to ensure he’s fleshed out as a person. He has specific reasons for doing what he does, and his own way of approaching his challenges, things he will and will not do to get what he wants, and so on. He’s not solely motivated “for the evulz”… he’s a person, and I need to convey that.
I hope to get a bit further with the draft over the weekend, but I will have dayjob work to do so we’ll have to see how things shake out.
Breaking into any extant field can be a daunting prospect. The argument that there’s nothing new under the sun can be made when discussing fiction, film, commentary, web series, criticism, journalism, comic books, you name it. You might look at the shelves at a bookstore, the offerings on Steam, the content on YouTube, or the blog of an eminent Internet personality, and believe there’s no reason to follow through on your creative idea.
The problem with this belief is that it is provably false. Tolkien and Lewis have already written about fantastical worlds, but that has not stopped Martin, Jordan, or Hickman & Weis from doing the same. Asimov, Dick, and Heinlein were pretty much pioneers of long-form science fiction, but if you look on those same bookstore shelves, you’ll see names like Abnett, Stephenson, and Zahn. And as one of my favorite cybernetic characters once said, “The Net is vast and infinite.” There’s plenty of room to start up a new web show if you want to.
The way to be successful with it, in my humble opinion, is to do it differently than others do.
I don’t mean completely change the format or your approach to the subject matter strictly to be different from what’s already being done. That can quickly become gimmicky or trite, and you’ll lose more audience than you’ll gain. What I mean is, instead of copying a methodology or setting or theme wholesale, use it as a starting point and let your own idea grow out of it. The idea should continue to grow, as well, and become its own entity, rather than remaining completely tied to the original inspiration.
I think that was part of the problem with IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! – I wasn’t doing anything to grow or change the idea. I was, for the most part, going through the motions of trying to gain traction and an audience for a medium that, if I’m honest, I’m not sure I’m cut out for. I may be passionate about things like gaming and politics, but a lot of people are, and a lot of people are also not qualified to talk about them from the objective viewpoint of a professional journalist or critic. I think most people would agree that most if not all of my attempts at criticisms are amateur at best.
Does this make them invalid? No. Does this mean I’ll never criticize something again? Of course not.
What I’m getting at is this: I don’t do enough differently as a critic or journalist to justify asking people to pay me for it. From where I stand, my voice is not unique enough to stand out in the ever-growing universe of online critics, and while I could possibly cultivate it to make it stand out more, it would take away from my calling to write fiction, an area in which I do have unique ideas that are working and will get me paid.
I simply need to focus on what I’m good at. I’m better at telling stories than I am writing objective journalistic breakdowns of what’s wrong with this movie or that game or this aspect of our culture. I can do all of those things, sure, but it’s never going to be more than amateur dabbling and a little running off at the mouth from within my little isolated bubble in an obscure blog perched on a corner of the Internet. And I think I’m okay with that.
I do not want to prevent anyone else from going that route, though. So, if you do, if you really want to set up a platform and podium from which to get the word out on something you think is really wrong out there, by all means, have at it. Just find a way to do it different, do it better, do it right. Don’t just imitate, innovate. And don’t be afraid to pimp yourself. Remember, if you don’t work, you don’t eat.
Return to Ravnica is right around the corner. And when it comes, I will be wearing the blue and red of Izzet with pride. I have at least one Standard deck planned, and the guild is looking strong in Limited formats as well. On top of that, I’m planning on dipping my toe into Legacy soon, and the deck I’m considering is entirely red. But that’s a post for another time. Today we’re talking about Friday Night Magic.
I love FNM as a concept. Having a steady night for competition at a low cost provided you can assemble a deck is very appealing. And the Internet has made deck assembly even easier. Any deck being played by the pros can be found with a quick Google search or two, and if you have the disposable income, even the rarest of cards can be found for sale somewhere.
Now, I will admit to a bit of emotional and cultural bias when it comes to this. It’s one of those moments where I shake my walking stick at the young whipper-snappers taking up table space in my hobby. You see, I first played Magic back before there was an Internet, and all you really had to go on was sheer deckbuilding instinct, hard-won experience, and the occasional article in Scrye magazine. Does anybody else remember Scrye? Anyway, there really isn’t anything wrong with copying a deck from an online pro-winning deck list, I just get a little peeved when I keep losing to the same online pro-winning deck list because everybody and their kid seems to be playing it.
Like I said, nothing wrong with this. Play what works for you. I just prefer building my own decks.
Of course, there’s no way to test my deck ideas other than playing them. While I recently got back into Magic Online for the first time since some point during the Renaissance, I don’t have anywhere near enough cards from the Innistrad block to replicate my deck. Speaking of which…
It will still be a couple weeks before my full Izzet plan comes to fruition. I do have a somewhat viable deck I’ve been monkeying around with, and I think I need to revisit its most successful iteration. At the same time, there are some concepts from the latest version of it that I really like, but the way it was set up was simply too reactionary. Still, having responses planned is good, and going fully aggro didn’t really work for me, either. The result is what the pros like to call “midrange.”
[mtg_deck title=”WB Token Midrange”]
// Creatures
4 Doomed Traveler
3 Hero of Bladehold
3 Stonehorn Dignitary
3 Blade Splicer
2 Bloodline Keeper
2 Captain of the Watch
// Spells
4 Lingering Souls
3 Honor of the Pure
3 Go for the Throat
3 Oblivion Ring
1 Intangible Virtue
// Planeswalkers
2 Sorin, Lord of Innistrad
2 Elspeth Tirel
// Lands
11 Plains
7 Swamp
4 Isolated Chapel
2 Vault of the Archangel
// Sideboard
3 Revoke Existence
3 Celestial Purge
3 War Priest of Thune
2 Day of Judgment
2 Grafdigger’s Cage
2 Doom Blade
[/mtg_deck]
Cutting [mtg_card]Venser, the Sojourner[/mtg_card] hurts, but vigilant soldiers that slow down aggressive enemies while quick token generation holds off opposing creatures and makes it difficult for control decks to keep up may be a more viable path to victory.
I really can’t wait for Return to Ravnica. This deck need some time off, probably until Gatecrash shows up. Or I pull enough good cards to make a Junk Tokens deck…
One hundred and fifty years of spaceflight innovation, and it’s still a pain in the ass to get a decent meal.
Commander Ellington grumbled softly as he pulled himself towards the galley. He remembered times back home when just a whiff of his mother’s home cooking would make his stomach growl like a hungry lion.
“What’s on the menu today, Slim?”
The technical expert of the construction crew was actually named Vladimir Moroshkin, but being skinny as a beanpole, Ellington had taken to calling him ‘Slim’. The physicist didn’t seem to mind.
“The same as before, Commander. Pre-cooked meats of a dubious nature and recycled water it’s best not to contemplate too long.”
“What I wouldn’t give for some decent chili.” He sighed, popping a meal in the microheater. “How’re things out there?”
Slim looked out the porthole at the in-construction Pluto gate. “Main structure is 90% complete, components are in place, and capacitors are holding charges. Crews probably need another few days to get the toll systems and registration servers talking to the relays.”
Ellington nodded. “Once it’s done we’ll have gates in orbit around Earth, Mars, Venus, Europa, Titan… am I missing any?”
“They just finished the Triton gate, sir.”
“That’s gonna make booking flights confusing. Anyway, where do we go from here, d’you think?”
“We’ll probably have to break the light barrier properly to go further. Properly, I mean. Not with artificial wormholes.”
“Does it ever bother you, ripping holes in space the way we do, just to travel more quickly from one place to another?”
“No, sir. The technology that powers the gates is completely-”
Before Slim could finish his sentence, the station shook. Supplies went flying from the galley shelves. As warning klaxons started going off, Ellington propelled himself to the main console of the small station. Slim was right behind him.
“Did something hit us?” Ellington asked as he scanned the instruments for hull breaches and other damage.
“Nothing solid. Looks like it was a shock wave. Suit comms are down.”
“A shock wave from what, Slim?”
Ellington looked up and got his answer.
In the silent, dark tapestry outside, a violet fissure had appeared. It glowed, blotting out the stars behind it. As Ellington watched, tentacles colored a green so deep it was nearly black wormed out of the fissure and began to push it wide. He glanced at the gate, seeing the men scatter. Looking back, more tentacles appeared, and within the void past the tear in space, Ellington saw piss-colored eyes. Ancient eyes. Eyes full of hunger and hate.
“Slim… tell me what I’m seeing.”
“The instruments are going haywire, sir. I need a moment.”
“Not sure you’ve got one.” As Slim watched, the thing in the fissure lashed out at the gate, swatting men and women in space suits aside as they tried to return to the station. They were unarmed, and their only means of escape was the ion-powered rocket that could get them to Triton and the gate there could get them home. The journey would be short, as Pluto’s orbit this year was closer to Neptune than it had been in decades, which was why the eggheads back home decided to move forward with building the gate.
Not that it would matter if the horror pulling itself into reality could also travel through the gates.
“Can you tell me anything about the fissure?”
“Near as I can tell, it’s putting off a frequency of radiation I’ve never seen before. Radio telescope was the first instrument to zero in on it.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Reluctantly, Slim flipped the external speaker switch. The control cabin was immediately filled with screaming. If it had been one voice screaming, it would have just been disconcerting. Instead, Slim and Ellington heard a thousand voices, all crying out at once without words, deeply in pain and endlessly, endlessly angry.
“Right. Time to get the hell out of here.”
Ellington turned and went down the central shaft of the station to where the shuttle was docked. He slid inside and did a quick check of its systems, making sure it hadn’t been damaged. He caught glimpses of the creature out the windows, but tried to ignore it. He stopped, however, when he saw the gate’s capacitors lighting up. He moved back to the shaft and kicked off of the deck, propelling himself back to the control cabin where he seized a handhold.
“What the hell are you doing, Slim?”
“If I can get the gate to generate a sympathetic counterpoint vibratory radiation pattern…”
“English, Slim.”
“I think I can use the gate to close the fissure, sir.”
Ellington stared, then looked outside. The thing was even more massive than he’d thought, and it looked like it was still emerging from the fissure. It could easily reach the station with its tentacles, and Ellington feared one would collide with them any moment. He heard people in the upper reaches of the station, clamoring about, probably eager to leave. He didn’t blame them.
Slim twisted knobs, tapped in commands via keyboard, and finally pulled a lever. The gate sprang to life. Instead of the usual blue color, the capacitors glowed an angry red. Soon the entire gate was alive with that shade, and the radio telescope conveyed a sound that drowned out the screaming.
It was a single, reptilian, very pissed-off roar.
“Slim? What did you do?”
“Exactly what I said! I don’t…”
From the gate emerged a head that could have belonged to some sort of dinosaur. It was topped with ridges of horns, its scales were the color of blood, and when it exhaled (wait, exhalation in space?) plumes of fire shot from its nostrils. Seeing the abomination in the fissure, it shot out of the gate, spreading leathery wings and reaching out with talons easily as long as Slim was tall. It grappled with the tentacled monstrosity and opened its mouth. Flames washed over the fissure.
