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Year in Review: 2014

2014-graphic

Whew. It’s been some year, hasn’t it?

My friends and I had our annual end-of-the-year chat last night via Skype and one of them asked me how I felt about 2014 as a whole. I told him 2014 seems to be a year of extremes. It seems as if every good thing that’s happened has been counteracted by something horrible. I met my favorite author, Jim Butcher, but I had to quit my day job. I got a new car, but I also got a car payment. I’ve sold a lot of books, but I’m still unemployed. I bought some awesome new outfits, but I also gained a few pounds so now I’ve started the grueling process of exercising. It’s been a give-and-take from day one this year.

I think the most important thing about 2014 is the amount of knowledge I’ve now crammed into my head in just twelve months’ time. The things I know about writing, editing, marketing, and publishing would have served me extremely well this time last year, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.

I estimate I had only sold about 45-50 copies of The Black Parade in December of 2013 and now we’ve got 7,500 copies circulating on readers’ shelves. This year, I was able to launch The Deadly Seven, my short story collection, as well as the sequel to my first novel, She Who Fights Monsters. BookTrackr estimates I’ve got 5,600 copies of The Deadly Seven and She Who Fights Monsters out there. I also was lucky enough to be included in the Paranormal 13 box set with 13 other insanely talented authors. The set is free across all platforms, and last time I checked, we were well over 100,000 sales, so there are also a lot of people who will (hopefully) eventually see my work as they read through the set.

I consider my greatest accomplishment of the year to be simply getting my name out there. Yes, I am still a small fry, but I’ve actually met a handful of successful authors and I’ve gotten a couple of fans, which is incredibly humbling.  Last year, I was pretty much lying in a puddle of my own pity depressed about not selling, and now I understand that there is more to selling novels than throwing your work out there and expecting to be recognized. Readers have too many choices out. It doesn’t mean that my books are masterpieces or total garbage. It just means they haven’t found me yet. 2014 has proven that there is indeed a market for my particular type of storytelling, and nothing is more encouraging than knowing someone hears my voice and likes it.

I think it’s important for young upcoming authors to know that they aren’t alone and that the percentage of authors who are instant successes is far smaller than you think. Sadly, the mass media perpetuates the myth that there are millions of them and you’re a big fat loser for not selling, but that’s not true. There are some who hit the jackpot, but most authors take years to generate a following and start actually making money. It’s discouraging to know, but it doesn’t mean it’s impossible if it just takes a long time.

I would say the lesson I’ve learned for 2014 is that you can only go up from rock bottom. My life still isn’t where I’d like it to be, especially since I just turned 26 (aka the age where you’re supposed to have your shit together, according to society), but this year has proven that I can meet my goals if I just keep my eyes fixed on the horizon and keep swimming. Dry land’s out there somewhere. There’s nothing left to do but sink or swim.

I hope 2014 has been good to you, dear readers. We’ve suffered some serious losses, but the important thing is we dust ourselves off and keep going. May 2015 be a better year to us all.

Happy New Year from yours truly,

Kyoko

Why Bother? The Two Deadliest Words to a Self-Published Author

You said it, Daria.

You said it, Daria.

Y’know what sucks? Being unemployed and your books not selling at the same time.

It’s not just the lack of money, either. I’ve been unemployed before back when my second retail job went under thanks to rent issues in 2012. The funny thing is, the first month is kind of a like a honeymoon period. You wake up when you want to, do what you want to, don’t do what you don’t want to, and feel this general sense of relaxation since you don’t have a set schedule as you don’t have to go to work anymore. You sleep pretty well and you have the free time to do practically anything.

Then it wears off.

Then the stress starts.

Okay, so it’s not like you thought getting hired for your dream job was going to be easy. It’s going to take time. You throw yourself into your writing while you’re praying to God (and sacrificing a goat just in case Satan’s listening) someone hires you. After all, your sales have been pretty consistent for the past few months and you’re slowly building readers, right?

Kevin Spacey WRONG

Out of the blue, September hits you with the biggest sales flat-line since you started self-publishing. I’m talking you don’t even make it into double digit sales per week. You close out your September sales with less money than you made in literally four hours at your previous day job. And October is looking to be the exact same way.

No big deal. Deep breath. You can totally handle it. It’s not like you became an author to get rich. It’s probably easier and more lucrative to sell crack than be a self-published author, after all. You’re in this because you love writing and you love stories and you want to share the reading/writing experience with your fellow man. That’s easy enough. It’s what the Internet is for—connecting people together across vast distances.

Except you kind of suck at it.

Twitter? Not that many followers. You get maybe a handful of replies per week. Maybe you should redirect your energy.

Tumblr? Oh, don’t talk about your book. No one cares unless it’s a natural recommendation from a book nerd. Just write occasional fanfics and reblog handsome celebrities and social justice speeches. Anything else and you get unfollowed en masse.

Facebook? Only a tenth of the people who liked your page see your posts, and even less than that like your posts? Right. Uh, keep trying. Maybe it’ll get better.

Then you’re lying in bed for a while, watching television because it’s a fantastic distraction from the horrible current state of your life, your manuscript untouched for days, and then a quiet little voice whispers in your ear the scariest words to any self-published author:

“Why bother?”

“What?” you sputter back indignantly.

“Why bother?” the voice continues. “What’s the point of putting yourself through this misery? You’ve been writing your whole life with nothing to show for it but a couple fans and a pocketful of change. You can’t make friends. You can’t get through to readers. You can’t even make enough money to get your own place by yourself. Just give up. You gave it your best shot. You’d make twice the money if you just settled for a job like your old day job. You’re never going to be the female Richard Castle. You’re never going to be a bestselling author of any sort. Better to figure that out now than before you use up all your savings and die in a gutter somewhere.”

“That’s pretty melodramatic,” you scoff.

“But it’s not far from the truth. Aren’t you tired of this? Aren’t you tired of being a nobody? Of putting yourself out there and almost never getting anything out of it?”

“I have gotten stuff out of it!” you argue. “I’ve met people! Not a lot of them, but enough. And I’ve met some really cool people who think my work is great.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you can pay your student loan bills with reviews,” the voice muses.

You hesitate. This a-hole has a point. Maybe you’re just being stubborn, chasing this dream of yours. Maybe it’s time you grew up and did what thousands of people do every day—shelve the dream in order to make a living. After all, you can’t get what you want. Who reads your work is beyond your control. You can’t hold a gun to your readers’ heads and order them to buy your books. You can’t threaten Bookbub into accepting your book. You can’t convince bloggers to review and spread word of your book on your own. Maybe it is time to throw in the towel. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe your work isn’t that good. Maybe it never will be. You have too many bills to pay. Time to get real.

But then you think about Stephen King’s On Writing. You think about how that man spent the better part of thirty years trying to get his feet beneath him, facing hundreds of rejections day in and day out. Sure, you’re nowhere near as good, but he’s fantastic and even he had to wade through the long stretch of no one knowing who he was or caring about the work he poured his sweat, blood, and liquor into.

“No one cared who I was until I put on the mask,” Bane said in The Dark Knight Rises. The fictional villain had a point. Nobody cares who you are. They won’t care until you’ve made it to the Big Time. Right now, it feels like you’ll never make it, but you’ll definitely never make if you give up. Maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll never be anything more than an underground author with a tiny fanbase of less than 100 people.

But guess what?

There is one goal you’re still meeting. You’re sharing your story with others, even if it’s not as many of them as you’d like. People are reading your work. People have made the choice to sit down one afternoon with your characters when they could be reading Stephen King or James Patterson or Suzanne Collins or J.K. Rowling. They said yes to you when they said no to so many others. For better or worse, they stuck with you, even if they end up disliking the book, even if they don’t want to move on through your series.

And that is why you still bother.

“Screw you!” you say cheerfully to the voice. “Maybe I’ll always struggle and not be where I want to be, but at least I met my original goal and not even you can take that away from me.”

The voice grumbles and shuffles off to that dark place in the back of your head, kicking over trash cans along the way. You turn off the television—well, after that Castle marathon on TNT ends—and crack your knuckles and open your Word document and get back to work.

You are a poor self-published vagrant and you’ve got work to do.

So keep doing it, against all odds, even those your own doubts and fears present.

Turning the Corner on Diversity in TV

He's a 250-year-old gentleman.

He’s a 250-year-old gentleman. Aw.

With all the turmoil going on in this country, there just might be a light at the end of the tunnel, particularly for women of color.

Sleepy Hollow’s second season hit the airwaves September 22, 2014, and as I watched the premiere and read the hilariously overexcited fans’ reactions on Tumblr, I came to the realization that women of color just might be in luck in the future. While ‘Sleepy Hollow’ isn’t as popular as some other shows in similar genres, and while it isn’t particularly a very good show, it still has a solid foothold on viewers. Could we in fact be on the verge of introducing more women of color into main lead roles on network television?

I’m not going to give it all the credit, but I do think ‘Scandal’ might have been the spark that started what could be a fire for more diversity in television. Olivia Pope (played by the gorgeous and whip-smart Kerry Washington) started out getting the black community frothing at the mouth for more political thrills and sexual intrigue, but then as the seasons progressed, we began to see more than just black people watching. ‘Scandal’ is one of the highest rated shows on ABC, which previously had been a very lukewarm channel with little to no exceptional shows aside from ‘Castle’ (but then again, I am biased). Then it was syndicated with BET (big surprise there) and has been consistently putting butts in chairs Thursday nights. While the idea of sex scandals in politics is nothing new, it was the first time in quite a while that America was seeing an intelligent, driven, mostly independent black woman in a main role of leadership. Sure, we’ve had plenty of black women on network TV in the past few years, but they’ve always been in supporting roles, never the lead unless it was some trashy reality show involving housewives.

‘Sleepy Hollow’ and ‘Scandal’ are nothing alike, and that is what makes a bit excited if this is indeed a trend. We have two completely different characters in two completely different genres that are growing in popularity and are sticking around. Further proof of the potential trend is Viola Davis’ upcoming lawyer-thriller, ‘How to Get Away with Murder.’ Again, not busting open anything we’ve never seen before, but Viola Davis is one hell of an actress and she’s more than welcome on our plasma screens.

Nerdy black girls like me are also nothing new. We’ve been around forever, but this is the first time in my lifetime, as far as I know, that we have popular shows on popular networks with intelligent black female protagonists. This could be big. This could be the break we’ve been needing, as the past few years have seen more black ghetto baby mamas and divas in reality TV than you can shake a curling iron at. While some would say it’s just harmless entertainment—after all, the term is reality show, which is still scripted in some parts—I have always been frustrated with the lack of women of color in television that are portrayed as more than just those two stereotypes. I’ve been dying for women like the female cast of ‘Living Single’ or Nichelle Nichols or Phylicia Rashad to take the reins and show people that black women are just as interesting and worthwhile as their white counterparts, and that women of color in general need more spotlight.

It’s not just about one particular skin color, either. I am dying for ‘Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D’ to come back for season two, not because of Agent Coulson (though God-knows I love that unassuming adorable man), but because of seeing Agent Melinda May (Ming-Na Wen) back in action. I truly hope that we as a country continue to hunger for things we haven’t seen and push the old broken mainstays aside to make room for creativity. I would love for this generation of young girls to be able to write school papers on great women of color in fiction instead of just watching ‘Frozen’ a thousand times and mistaking that for “strong female characters.”

Here’s hoping.

-Kyoko

Hindsight is 20/20: My First Year in Self-Publishing

Homer Simpson on Publishing

You said it, Homer.

“What’s it like to be a self-published author?”

Boy, that’s a loaded question if I ever saw one. Someone on KBoards asked a similar question, “What was your first year of publication like?” and I answered with the following .gif:

Whiny Kuzco

I’d say that’s probably the most accurate account for most self-published authors who went into the publishing and writing industry as blindly as I did. They say that life is a rat race. Self-publishing is a rat race where every wrong turn means you get electrocuted and when you do find a scrap of cheese, you have to fight all the other rats in a switch blade match to the death. Okay, maybe not that bad, but close enough.

I suppose most of these types of posts always begin with the author bragging about the number of books they’ve sold. I can’t really do that. There’s not much to brag about. I’m not making it rain on hookers and blow. I’ve only actually been making a profit off my work since April, and even then, it’s only been enough to buy me dinner every once in a while. But for the sake of advice, let me give you some estimated numbers via BookTrackr for all three of my books, which includes two novels and a short story collection.

Copies Sold: 653

Free Copies Sold: 4,978

Reviews: 58

Books Borrowed/Lent: 25

Money Earned Since 1st Publication Date: $383

See? Nothing to brag about here. I hate seeing blog posts where the author goes on and on about the thousands of readers they have and all the money they’ve made like it’s the most boring, regular thing in the world. Millionaire bestselling Richard Castle-esque authors are NOT the norm. Most of us struggle and struggle hard with getting anywhere within a year of publication. But that’s not what the mass media wants to tell you. That’s not what Writer’s Digest wants to tell you. That’s not what millions of authors on Twitter want to tell you. They want you to believe we’re all J.K. Rowling and it’s easy as pie to poop out a bestselling series and walk on water with your fancy hair blowing in the wind because you are an author in the modern world.

 

 

I’ve had to claw and scratch for literally every single copy I’ve sold of any of my three books. I’ve invested what a very unimpressed H&R Block accountant estimated to be nearly $800 in creating, writing, marketing, and advertising my novels, all for a paltry $383, some of which has yet to be paid to me since Amazon only pays you at the end of every month.  I’ve asked every available source I could get for help, and I’m still failing to make sales and gain readers. This is the ugly, seedy part of the business that no one wants to talk about because it sucks. Being a self-published author sucks. Don’t let anyone convince you of otherwise. You are a lone wolf, zipping through the forest trying to find your next meal because them rabbit suckers are fast and you have more than enough competition. Actually, now that I think about it, self-publishing is basically the equivalent of being Wile E. Coyote.

That being said, it’s also pretty great sometimes.

For example, one of the things they don’t tell you is that it actually doesn’t take a hell of a lot to be able to use the title “Amazon Bestselling Author.” If you choose your category carefully, market to just the right people, and get a little support on your various social media, you can actually make it to the Top 100 Amazon in only a couple hundred free sales. It’s a permanent status bump. You can advertise it on anything you wish. Make a coffee mug. Rent a giant billboard and plaster it on there. Run out into the streets and spin your arms like Maria and shout it to random strangers until the cops come. I fully admit that I have a couple dozen screenshots of my books in the Top 10 Amazon Bestselling Novel categories because it is one of those rewards that has nothing to do with money and is just for me. Because, for me, it’s not about that. It’s about something that I care deeply about being put into the hands of readers. That’s my only goal. I want to connect with people.

If you’ve read this far into the blog post, you can gather that I’m pretty awkward. I don’t know how to talk to people or explain things without using nerdy references or weird comparisons. But the one thing I can do—the one thing I was put on this earth to do correctly—is write stories. Even though this career path sucks, I am still doing what I love every day: telling stories. Sure, not everyone cares, and not everyone will like my stories, but I am still moving inch by crawling inch towards that end goal of being discovered by the many readers of the world. I squealed like a little girl when I saw that a handful of people in the UK have bought my books.  I still bounce up and down on my bed when I get the very rare kind, detailed review. I take a shameful selfie with the paperback copies of my novel when they finally arrive, fresh off the printing press. I dollop copious amounts of affection on anyone kind enough to talk to me on Twitter about anything even vaguely related to writing.

Overall, I’d have to say self-publishing is the best worst thing I’ve ever done.

And so, with that in mind, here’s what I’ve learned so far:

-Don’t bother with Facebook ads. They are a money pit and a waste of time.

-KBoards is the kingdom of heaven in terms of advice on self-published marketing.

-Social media is a time-suck and should be used sparingly.

-Goodreads is a great place to meet readers and help build, organize, and grow your own library as well as helping you slip into other people’s libraries.

-Bookbub is just as much a gatekeeper as literary agents in the traditional publishing world.

-There is no answer to the “self-publishing vs. traditional publishing” debate. We’re in this together. Don’t fight. Just discuss your differences and try not to step on each other’s toes.

-Amazon is awesome, but it’s like a giant Great Dane in a field of puppies. Snuggle up against it for warmth, but make sure you have an evacuation plan in case it goes rogue.

-Go with your instincts, but also realize that you’re going to be wrong a lot. Listen to other people who know more than you, and obey whenever possible if you think they’re right. Chances are, it’ll help you more than you will ever know.

-Always be gracious to anyone who takes the time out to speak to you, offer perspective, or shows interest in your work. Word may spread and benefit you in the future.

-Blog tours are useful for SEO links to your book, and not much else.

-Mailing lists apparently only work if you are Jesus.

-Book covers are hard to find and expensive to get, but the right ones are worth their weight in gold.

-Editing is the Britta of the writing process, but you have to deal with it anyway.

-Readers are fickle and unpredictable and there is nothing you can do about it. You can write shit or a masterpiece and they will never agree as to which one your book actually is.

-Your extended family is never going to care about your work like you do. They can’t, unless they are writers themselves. Don’t be offended. Just accept it and move on.

-Chuck Wendig was right. It takes as long as it takes to make it. Don’t compare your lack of success to other authors’ success, even though it’s tempting.

-Write your butt off. And then keep writing.

I leave you with the ever-inspiring words of Yoko Kanno. Here’s to another year of self-publishing. I’m going to make it if it kills me. Just gotta knock a little harder next time.

-Kyoko M.

Why ‘Maleficent’ Should Be the New ‘Frozen’

For once, the American people and I agree on something, and that is that Maleficent is pretty much a godsend and awesome and everything we were hoping it would be.

And yet.

It’s doing quite, quite well at the box office, but I can’t help but notice that it’s not getting more attention considering the quality of the film. I think Maleficent is fantastic from stem to stern, but as much as people like it, it hasn’t taken the world by storm like the last Disney film. I can’t abide that, dammit. It’s time to speak up about the differences between the two princess-centered films and why I think Maleficent succeeded where Frozen failed, and why it deserves more credit.

1. Because Maleficent is an actualized, three-dimensional character and not just a cardboard cut-out with a pretty face. Look, Frozen fans, I am not at war with you, but I do need you to see the many problems with the film, particularly with Elsa and Anna. They’re not fully realized characters. And Maleficent is. Her story is her own and she controls it, motivates it, changes it, and conquers it. Maleficent is an active protagonist AND antagonist, which is something Elsa severely lacked in Frozen. Maleficent started out just as sweet as can be and then was dealt something beyond cruel by the man she loved and so she took matters into her own hands. What’s more is that the narrative itself doesn’t try to pull a Loki and make it seem like she’s totally justified. It acknowledges that her curse was a horrid thing done out of anger, sorrow, and jealousy. Then it does one better by showing that Maleficent’s vendetta slowly melted into something unexpected. It turns out she wasn’t completely cold-hearted and bitter, and that Aurora’s sweetness was able to make it past the thorns around her heart. Moreover, her relationship with Diaval also gave us insight into who she was before and after the curse, showing that it is possible to be both hero and villain in your own story.

Frozen tried to give us a “two-sides-of-the-same-coin” with the sisters, but because the movie glossed RIGHT over Elsa and Anna growing up, it didn’t work. As much as people rave about “Let It Go”, it’s nothing but exposition. It’s NOT a proper character turn. If we knew anything about how Elsa changed from childhood into becoming a powerful ice mistress, then yes, the song would have had more impact and she would be a three-dimensional character. Same with Anna. Hell, Anna’s even worse because she is supposed to be the hero side of the coin and she does exactly two relevant things in the entire narrative: (1) goes to try to talk to Elsa after she freezes Arendale and (2) stops Hans from killing her. There is no path for her. It’s just meandering around with a bland guy and a marketing gimmick with no subplots or traits to make her anything more than a widdle baby protagonist who needs help from literally everyone before she gets anything done.

I’m not saying that Elsa and Anna needed to be Action Girls to be three-dimensional. They needed motivations, personality traits, hopes, fears, desires, wishes, flaws, and ultimately control of the narrative. They didn’t have those, and that’s why I think Maleficent should be what little girls see when they think of a princess story.

2. The visual effects weren’t trying to hide a bad story or distract the audience from other shortcomings. One of the first things that made me know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I wouldn’t like the live-action Oz movie is that it was literally a hurricane of special effects. I mean, Alice in Wonderland levels of special effects. It dripped from the screen and just covered my shoes in it. There are very, very few times when an effects-heavy movie isn’t just a cheap distraction. Maleficent didn’t have long, pointless scenes for you to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at. Each scene served a purpose–whether it was revealing Maleficent growing attached to Aurora and remembering how it felt to smile, or the striking visual of Maleficent riding Diaval (oh, wow, that came out wrong…and yet so right…dude, I so ship them now) to the palace in a mad dash to save Aurora from the curse. Not once did I feel like the film was trying to pad the running time. It had just enough pretty and scary things to make my inner fairytale fangirl giddy with delight.

Frozen, on the other hand, had several instances of pure padding. The intro song, the frickin’ snowman song, and the rock troll song were all 100% padding. You could have easily introduce Arendale and the poor neglected Kristoff in like five lines of dialogue. Hell, Flynn Rider’s intro to Tangled took, what? Less than five minutes? Quick, fun, efficient, and intriguing. Frozen’s introduction was extremely by-the-numbers and felt unnervingly like they were trying to rip off Pocahontas and the Lion King in one fell swoop.

In terms of the effects for Frozen, I have a lot to say because I’m upset that Elsa and Anna are so blatantly drawn from Rapunzel’s character model, and don’t get me started on Hans. There are a lot of ways to cut corners–hell, that’s what they did in the old days with Aristocats and Robin Hood–but it was 2013 and Disney shouldn’t have been copy/pasting characters. I had to actually Google the guy playing Hans because he sounded so much like Zachary Levi at certain points.

Not to mention the fact that while Elsa’s ice castle was cool, it was totally illogical. Where does she poop? Where does she sleep? Does she eat the snow too? Ice powers don’t make you not need food. And she would’ve starved anyway since she was a princess and had absolutely NO knowledge of how to live outdoors without thousands of manservants.

But I digress.

Maleficent knew how to use its effects and scenery to draw more attention to the characters, not divert attention away from them. That was my point. I’m sorry for giving you the mental image of Elsa on an ice toilet. Eegh.

3. It had a way better female-empowerment message. I’ll keep this short, because I could honestly rant about the faux-feminists running amok with Frozen all day long. Maleficent does a very clever thing, which is showing the darkest parts of both men and women and then showed us that redemption and love are still possible even in the worst conditions. Maleficent had every single reason to kill King Stephan (at one point during the final climax, I said, “Rip his throat out and shove it up his ass!”) but she took the high road and realized that he was a ghost of his former self and therefore not worth bloodying her hands. The movie didn’t try to teach little girls that men are awful creatures and can’t be trusted. It also showed us an unhealthy female relationship (the beginning where Maleficent basically just stalks Aurora out of petty hatred) change and develop into something actually quite lovely. I was so delighted when I realized that Maleficent’s inner mother was activated by the very creature she hated enough to damn to eternal slumber, and I actually got a little choked up during the scene where she desperately tries to revoke the curse. I absolutely adored the scenes of Maleficent showing Aurora the Moors and softening up around her. The two of them changed each other–Maleficent helped Aurora become a woman and see the world for what it was, both good and bad, and Aurora helped bring Maleficent back to who she was before Stefan broke her heart. That is a relationship little girls and teenage girls need to see. They need to see that there is evil and hatred out there, but that it’s possible to heal from heartbreak.

Frozen, to me, seemed pretty much anti-male. Kristoff was supposed to be the one who made us believe in dudes again, but he knows so little about Anna by the end of the story that I really just think he wanted to bone her and not much else. I mean, sure, sacrificing herself for her sister was sweet, but he still didn’t know jack-diddly-squat about her so it didn’t gel with the story. Furthermore, the Fan Dumb insists that Frozen “proves” that you don’t need no stinkin’ man to save the day, but guess what? If not for Olaf, Anna would’ve died in that room without saving her sister. And Olaf may be a snowman, but he’s still a dude. So, yeah. Giant hole in that argument.

This is not to say that Maleficent didn’t have help, but she ended up defeating the villain by her own hand and not being conveniently saved by a walking plush toy. And what’s more is Aurora is the one who saved her. Without her wings, Maleficent might have been slain. Aurora is also even more proof that you don’t need to be a flying bad ass to still be a great female character. After all, she didn’t raise a hand to anyone, but she melted Maleficent’s heart and she bravely freed her wings, thus saving her life. That’s awesome. That’s worth remembering and celebrating, at least in my eyes.

…so I guess everyone will be really mad if I admit I liked Lana Del Ray’s “Once Upon a Dream” way more than Idina Menzel’s “Let It Go”, huh? Better not open that can of worms and just end it here.

I’m not saying Frozen’s a bad movie. I simply think that it was given credit that it didn’t quite earn the way that I feel Maleficent did. I’ve been waiting for a dark fairytale re-telling with an active protagonist, great effects, an amazing cast, and the right atmosphere, and that’s what Maleficent gave me. I’ve seen it twice and I sure as hell am going to get it on DVD.

My hope is that Disney will make a note of why Maleficent is doing well and realize that it’s not pretty princesses that make us love fairytales. It’s when you tell a story well and don’t skimp on all the things that make women of royalty worth watching. And I know should know. I walked with them once upon a dream.

-Kyoko

On Altruism

captain_america_2

Altruism: (noun) the belief in or practice of disinterested and selfless concern for the well-being of others.

So Captain America: The Winter Soldier was frickin’ awesome.

I’ve already seen it twice and I plan to see it plenty more times. I’m so endlessly pleased with everything from the cinematography, to the fight choreography, to the chemistry between Steve and pretty much every single person in his life, and everything in between. I just adored it from start to finish.

However, sometime this week, my part-time mentor had a heated conversation on Facebook about why The Winter Soldier succeeded where Man of Steel (2013) failed. I didn’t participate and only saw it in passing, but it definitely got me thinking in terms of the writing.

First off, a disclaimer: I am one of the few people on the planet who doesn’t hate Man of Steel. That being said, I am also not quite a fan. I straddle the fence. Gun to my head, I’d give the movie 3 out of 5 stars—passable, mediocre, decent. The reason why is that Man of Steel did something that the other Superman films had not done yet: it took risks. Now, did those risks pay off? Ehhhhhh, kind of? In certain respects, the risks Man of Steel took paid off, like deciding to have Lois know Clark’s identity or showing Clark’s alienation and struggle to use his powers in non-selfish ways. The other risks, like Papa Kent being a selfish douche and dying for absolutely no reason or making Superman kill his first villain, no, I don’t think it pulled those dramatic changes off properly.

That’s what I want to chat about today: the differences between the attempted altruism in Man of Steel and the altruism that actually carried through in The Winter Soldier.

Mind you, it’s not my intent to compare the movies as a whole because they are two different entities—a reboot and a sequel with vastly different tones. Instead, let’s just focus on the super fellas themselves.

So in The Winter Soldier, Steve has begun to adjust to his surroundings. He is a great deal more cheerful than we saw him in the Avengers, where he was still in a bit of mourning for what he lost during his frozen slumber. He immediately bonds with Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie for President! Whoo hoo!) and has oodles of chemistry—both friendly and sexual, you ask me—with Natasha, all the while still having major issues with SHIELD. It’s for good reason, too, since the Battle of New York caused infinite amounts of fear and paranoia with the world powers.

What I think TWS did correctly was the internal struggle of Steve’s orders versus Steve’s gut feeling. Especially with the opening sequence where they told him to save the hostages, and it turns out it was Nick Fury manipulating him. Steve’s anger was completely justified. Nick Fury tends to be the ultimate “big picture” kind of leader, so he could sacrifice a few lives if it saved billions, but that’s the problem. Alexander Pierce had the same idea, but in horrendously huger numbers. Steve had a choice to make, and it was by far one of the most important of his life. What’s more is that this idea carried through with Bucky as well. Once he learned the Winter Soldier’s true identity, Cap had to make a choice. He could have believed what Sam said, that the Winter Soldier was beyond saving, but he didn’t. He chose to have faith in his past friendship, a decision that could have cost him his life, but he still did it. I think that is definitely “the belief or practice of disinterested and selfless concern for the well-being of others.”

Now let’s take a look at the Man of Steel. Clark grew up confused and angry after learning that he had powers beyond anyone’s imagination to comprehend. He was bullied, and wanted badly, like any normal kid, to get some payback, but he restrained himself. He also ran into cosmic a-holes as an adult—seriously, Clark is an angel for not killing that guy in the bar, I’d have shoved that mug of beer right up his ass Hancock-style—and managed not to act on his anger there either. However, one of my many issues with this version of Clark is that they never directly address what the comic books bring up: the idea that Clark is against capital punishment. I might have cited it before, but the story “What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice, and the American Way?” by Joe Kelly, and later adapted into an awesome DC animated original film “Superman vs. the Elite” deals with the idea that Clark has the ability to stop a threat permanently, but chooses not to, and there are dire consequences for that decision.

If the film had perhaps started with Clark stopping small crimes here and there and resisting the urge to kill, then maybe Zod’s fate would have been easier to swallow, or perhaps more meaningful to the narrative. The film tried to give us an altruistic Superman, but because of Pa Kent’s negative behavior, the way he died, the way Clark constantly brooded over whether to trust the human race or not, it ended up shriveling up instead of flourishing. I could see the seeds trying to grow, but the joyless tone that Zack Snyder and David Goyer enforced on the movie prevented our Boy in Blue from his true Boy Scout nature.

I think Marvel has a better understanding of what makes our heroes the kind of people everyone can root for. They have darkness in their lives, and secrets, and flaws, but Marvel doesn’t let it swallow up their characters. There were plenty of hilarious lines (especially Nat and Steve and Steve and Sam) and heartwrenching dramatic scenes (I’m still crying about Steve and Peggy, hand me a tissue), but the overall effect is surprisingly hopeful. Even with SHIELD branded as terrorists and the world on the hunt for Nick Fury, the fact that Cap did the right thing in the end—choosing to try to save Bucky and trying to root out the Hydra from the good guys at the SHIELD HQ—is what made him an altruistic hero. We never really got that moment in the Man of Steel where Clark chose to believe in humanity. Sure, he protected it, but I didn’t feel his love and sacrifice for the people living alongside him. The only person he truly bonded with was Lois and you certainly felt his devotion to her, but not the human race.

Writing makes the difference between these two men, these two heroes. It’s perfectly possible to make a hero who has darkness in his life, but doesn’t let it define him. DC seems to not understand why The Dark Knight saga was successful and why Man of Steel couldn’t follow in its footsteps. Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are opposites in every way: one from humble beginnings, one from privilege; one with an optimistic view, one with a pessimistic view; one who operates using the fantastic, one who operates using the practical. The Dark Knight seemed like it had a dark view of the world, and it did, but oddly enough, Bruce had a better grasp of altruism than Clark did, and that is why the Man of Steel couldn’t reach its potential. Bruce believed in his city without flinching. He believed that the people in Gotham were not beyond saving and that if he gave them an ideal and a symbol to believe in, they could get better and rise to the occasion. Captain America did that too. But Clark never did that.

In the end, I think the positive reactions to Captain America: The Winter Soldier are directly a result of Marvel and the movie writers understanding of what makes our heroes true heroes. It’s not that they are perfect and powerful, it’s that they are just as screwed up as we are, but they put their own needs aside to help us. They fight for our freedom and they make it personal. Cap didn’t have to give that speech asking the members of SHIELD to disobey direct orders. He could have been cynical and just tried to stop everything on his own, but he didn’t. He trusted us. And that’s why we love him.

*salutes* Here’s to you, Cap’n. Now get in my bed.

Things Batman Taught Me About Writing

Mmm...sexy smirking Batman...00

In honor of the Dark Knight’s 75th anniversary, I figured I’d take some time out to show what the Caped Crusader and his world have done for me as an author.

I know what you’re thinking.

“What does a 6’2’’ billionaire playboy who dresses up as a winged rat to fight hoodlums have in common with the prestigious institution known as writing?”

Well, if you’ll calm your mammary glands for an instant, I’ll explain. You see, I’ve been writing my entire life. If I have learned one thing, it is this—writing comes from inspiration. No one ever said that inspiration is conventional. So ignore what your mother told you about talking to strangers and listen to me for a moment while I attempt to explain how Bruce Wayne may be one of the best teachers in the writing field to date.

Darkness is multifaceted and interesting. Let me clarify—I do not believe that all heroes and heroines must be dark. Every protagonist does not need to be a tortured soul with loads of self-hatred and PTSD. Hell, some of the best heroes out there thrive because of their optimism. However, there is a reason why Christopher Nolan’s ‘The Dark Knight’ is the fourth highest grossing film of all time in the states. People want to see the ugly part of the soul. They crave it. All of the horrific things that have happened to Bruce from birth to his current state in the movies, comic books, and animated world are what make him so fascinating. He walks the line between good and evil every single night he patrols. For years, writers and readers have questioned whether Batman will ever become that which he fights against and we are compelled to follow his story because he continues not to give in.

It is possible to relate to unrelatable characters. I know, that sounds like a drunken 3AM tweet, but let me elaborate. Most likely, you were drawn to this article because of its absurd title. I mean, how the hell can we relate to a highly successful crime-fighter with gadgets and cool cars and hot women coming out the wazoo? Well, Captain Cynical, I’ll tell you how. Batman is not so different from you and me.

As Batman is compelled to protect the innocent, so are we writers compelled to slam our fingertips against stupid plastic keys and somehow make stories come out. We are unable to stop it. For example, Batman has tried to quit several times in the comic books and even in the animated world (See: ‘Batman: Mask of the Phantasm’ and ‘Batman Beyond.’) Writers know what that’s like. To stare into the empty abyss of a Word document, throw up your hands, and watch six hours worth of ‘Supernatural’ after swearing to never write again. Then eight hours later, we’re sitting in front of the same document, cursing profusely and writing anyway. Makes sense now, doesn’t it?

The villains are just as important as the main character. Batman is a mainstay in our culture not only because he’s a badass but because he (debatably) has the most memorable villains of any comic book character. Without going to Wikipedia, name as many Batman badguys as you can. I’ll wait. I bet you a quarter you were able to name at least five of them. (And cough up that money, man, I’ve got bills.) Why does that matter? Because the villains define the hero. No one wants a boring villain with nothing to offer our frothing imaginations.

Each villain represents some part of Batman, whether he realizes it or not. Batman represents justice so the Joker represents chaos, as ‘The Dark Knight’ so eloquently put it. Each of these bad boy and girls tempt Batman to break his no kill rule when he faces them and he becomes a better man each time he does not give in. It is the same with heroes in any given story. Compelling writing comes from an author digging deep and finding the one insecurity that could destroy the protagonist and then handing it to the villain in a gift basket. Preferably with wine and cheese.

In conclusion, Batman may have more to offer you than a great action flick or epic page-turner, as long as you’re willing to keep your mind open.

(And seriously, gimme that quarter.)

-Kyoko

On Endings

The_Holy_Dark_3_final_Front

So I finished the final installment to The Black Parade series a few days ago.

Hoo boy.

Prior to the third book, whose working title is The Holy Dark if you must know, I’ve written and finished three books–two novels and a novella. However, I’ve never written a series before and the first thing I have to say is, God bless the crazy sons of bitches who write long running series. I mean, seriously, The Black Parade series is just a trilogy, and I had the HARDEST time keeping everything in line. I think as authors we tend to take certain things for granted when we write. For instance, I didn’t realize just how long The Holy Dark was until I went through and began formatting it and doing the superficial edit.

The Holy Dark’s first draft is 168,197 words. Let’s do a comparison, shall we?

The Hobbit: 95,022 words

The Fellowship of the Ring: 177,227 words

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire: 190,637 words

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: 198,227 words

Are you beginning to see my plight here? I’m nowhere near as good as the above authors, but my word count is approaching their glorious numbers and it’s slightly terrifying. However, when I researched word counts of famous novel series, I did notice a trend. They do increase in word count the longer on they continue, and I think it has a lot to do with the process of writing towards the end of a series.

As I wrote The Holy Dark, there were all kinds of things that I had to keep in mind to tie up by the conclusion of the novel. Jordan and Michael’s stories span three books, and several storylines intersect with each other. We also meet new characters in the second and third novels who also have their own lives and stories and backstories. It’s like balancing spinning plates after a certain point. The reason why The Holy Dark took me so long to write (I started it in May 2013 and finished it just after New Years) is because I didn’t fully understand what it takes to end a series. There’s so much material to cover. There are your individual character arcs, the romantic character growth between Jordan/Michael and Jordan/Belial, the series long arc of the battle between the Seers and the demons, the ramifications of what happened in the previous novels, and then the actual plot of the current novel. Does your head hurt yet? Mine certainly does.

Endings, to me, are usually a little easier than beginnings. The original beginning to The Black Parade was Jordan reliving the night she killed Mr. N, but two separate critique groups talked me out of it because action-heavy beginnings with no context tend to work better in movies than in novels. Thus, we had our quiet but tense opening with Jordan waking up and starting her day as a Seer. However, the ending to The Black Parade was pretty much set in my head in general terms. I knew where her character would end up. Same deal for She Who Fights Monsters. The Holy Dark’s ending was a vague concept in my head, but how I got there was nothing short of a doozy. This is the first novel I’ve ever written where the beginning was a lot easier than the ending.

For instance, the first draft of THD is actually the second draft. The first time I wrote it, I got to 50,000 words in about two months. Then I stopped, read it, and panicked because the pacing was dreadful. The plot stopped and started and coughed and wheezed and begged to be put out of its misery. Thus, I had a long chat with my writing sensei and he helped figure out why the novel had such horrendous pacing issues. I had so many scenes that I wanted to write before the series ended that the flow of the novel felt unnatural and stilted. I took everything back to the drawing board, deleted big chunks, altered the narrative, and started up again. I did well for several months and then the end of the year hit. I had so many hours at my retail day job that I missed my 2013 deadline because so much of the story had piled up that I didn’t have time to type it all out. My fingers just weren’t fast enough.

What I’ve learned over the course of writing this first draft is that endings can be difficult because one worries about satisfaction. Is the end of the series satisfying? Where does everyone end up after their three book long journey? What have they learned? What have they gone through? How has it changed them? Is the conflict real and personal? Is it something readers will relate to and cherish? There are so many expectations that consciously and unconsciously crop up when you read the final novel in a series.

For example, I’m not a fan of Mockingjay because it felt overstuffed and convoluted. I liked The Hunger Games the best out of the novels because it was succinct and profound. It also had much less of the Peeta/Katniss/Gale love triangle, which I personally find to be pointless. Katniss is not the kind of girl who needs to be torn over two boys. It’s quite clear that she has romantic feelings for Peeta, not Gale, and I worry that Suzanne Collins dragged the love triangle out for the sake of drama, and not because it needed to be there. Now, granted, I’m sure I will get the same criticism in the future because I’ve got my own love triangle going in my series, but I’m just being honest. Either way, The Hunger Games is still one of the best contemporary novel series of all time. I bring it up because my expectations for where the story would end up was way different from how it actually did. I don’t think that authors should pander to their audiences and fret over what they would enjoy reading, but I do think it’s part of the writing experience anyway. It’s what I struggled with during the epilogue of THD because I had scenes that I wanted to write that I felt the readers would enjoy, but since they weren’t plot relevant, I felt the urge to leave them out. After all, nothing gets people crankier than a too-sweet happy ending. I tend to lean towards bittersweet endings because they are more realistic. It’s the same reason why Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows’ epilogue is so controversial–a lot of it reads like lousy fanfiction. Being too saccharine in your ending can color the whole series. Hell, my mother and I discussed this last night with the movie Sweet November. We actually liked the movie itself…until the ending. The ending blew it. It just blew. It was a dumb, unsatisfying cop out. That ending ruined the entire experience and cost the people who made it a sale (I found the movie for cheap at a game store and thought about buying it, but then I remember that FUBAR ending and chose not to instead). It’s the same with novels. You can write something beautiful and emotionally crippling, but if you screw up the ending, it can poison your entire series.

Now compact everything I’ve said and shove it inside your ear. That’s how my brain feels right now. Endings are a pain in the ass. This is a shout out to every single author who has ended a novel series: you are incredible and I hope you know that with all your heart. My stories aren’t nearly as complex as something like George R. R. Martin or J.K. Rowling, and they somehow have endings. I will absorb these authors’ wisdom into my own body like an amoeba before I start the first round of editing.

The nice thing about being an author is that you can always change. You can move chapters around. You can delete them. You can expand. You can chase down new plot threads and character arcs and nail them into place. As a wise Autobot once said, freedom is the right of all sentient beings, and I think that is most true with writing. The Holy Dark kicked my skinny ass up and down the year 2013, but it taught me more than I think the first two novels combined. It’s scary to think I won’t be writing about Jordan, Michael, Gabriel, and Belial in the future, but these characters have been beyond fun to write over the past five years. I think that’s also why the ending was so difficult. I wanted to put them to rest with all the respect that I could because they’ve been keeping me company for so long. I suppose that’s sentimental (and borderline clinically insane), but hey, that’s how I roll.

Welcome to 2014, people. Big things are in our future. Stay tuned for more.

-Kyoko

On Sexism and Misogyny in SFF

"What do you mean 50 Shades of Grey out-sold Harry Potter?!"

“What do you mean 50 Shades of Grey out-sold Harry Potter?!”

This past week, a buddy of mine and I somehow got into a conversation about representation of women, particularly in science fiction and fantasy movies. At some point, he pointed out how sad it is that rape is too often used as an excuse to show how “evil” a villain is when in fact there are plenty of other ways to indicate it without demeaning women and dredging up unnecessary and unpleasant implications. This discussion really got me thinking about one of the most difficult hurdles I’ve been facing both writing and marketing The Black Parade.

First off, let me just say that I still can’t believe sexism is a thing. Seriously. Women are just people without penises. Why is that hard to comprehend? Anyway, moving on—one of the most commons issues in sci-fi and fantasy is the characterization of the fairer sex. It can fall short for several reasons—stereotyping, laziness, misunderstanding the traits that make women who they are, good old fashioned misogyny—and it’s not limited to urban fantasy, nor is it specific to novels.

For instance, allow me to make a really large group of nerds angry: I don’t like how George Lucas writes women. I truly don’t. I don’t think he’s the worst guy out there, but I actually spent an hour debating with my writing sensei about the characterization of Marion Ravenwood from Raiders of the Lost Ark. For the longest time, I never understood why fans of the movies worshipped Marion and yet they hated Willie from Temple of Doom with a purple passion. I rewatched Raiders recently and I still found Marion to be a useless, shrieking harpy, and I find the fact that people call her an “Action Girl” insulting. She had exactly one useful trait and that was that she had the medallion. Otherwise, there was no reason to write her into the film because they never fully explore her backstory and so she has no personal stake in the story. People point out that they hate Willie because she bitches and moan at every opportunity (and she was doing the director and that’s how she was cast, which I get), but watch the movie again and count how many times Marion whines about something or shrieks Indy’s name. It’s kind of a lot. Plus, all she does is get rescued over and over again throughout the movie, and I don’t think that I should give her points for trying to escape because it still doesn’t make her useful or likable. She talks shit to the bad guys without being able to back it up and she has a serious attitude problem that made me want her face to get melted by the end of the movie.

Now, my Marion Ravenwood rant isn’t here just to enrage some nerds. I’m making a point. I think she was poorly written and executed, but I also think that Lucas did a much better job with Elsa from The Last Crusade. Consider this: she was beautiful, educated, motivated, useful, and cunning. She had her own thoughts and beliefs that were independent from Indy, whereas the other two girls just followed him around and did everything he told them to. She actively disagreed with him and even had the acting chops to trick him into giving her what she wanted. She was a slimy, selfish, ambitious hussy. And guess what? That was fantastic writing. Elsa was a bad girl, one of the worst, and that’s why I liked her. She was still gorgeous and feminine, but she was complicated and layered. With Marion and Willie, what you see is what you get. Not so with Elsa.

So maybe I’m not crazy about Lucas writing women. There are oodles of other beautiful ladies out there kicking butt, right? Of course. I’m proud to see the frothing sea of awesome women in fiction, from books to plays to anime to movies. Hell, I’ve even pointed out my favorite ones before. However, the reason why I felt the need to make a post is because we’re approaching some sort of horizon where the sexism in fiction is going to have to face a major shift.

I made a recent post about the importance of Katniss Everdeen both as a character and as a representation of a sadly underappreciated demographic of women. The current problem in our society is that for every fantastic, well written female protagonist, we have bucketfuls of awful ones. The fact that Bella Swan and Ana Steele will go down in history as two of the most profitable female characters in our history makes me want to Hulk Out and thrash someone Loki-style. Is it true that some women are doormats and hopelessly codependent? Sure. Should we be glorifying it to young, impressionable teens? HELL NO.

And while we’re on the subject, I’ll have to bring up another point that enrages me to the depths of my soul. The third installment to the Chronicles of Riddick series came out a few months ago. Did you see it? I bet you a nickel that you didn’t. Why? It was poorly done and no one cared because Pitch Black was perfect and didn’t need sequels. But that’s not my point.

The Mary Sue made an excellent article that pointed out how unacceptably misogynistic Riddick was and there were tons of comments supporting it, mine included. How is it that the writers/director wrote a movie about a bunch of mercenaries hunting a serial killer on a planet infested with killer aliens…and somehow came out with rampant sexism? The sole female character in the film is constantly verbally harassed by her male counterparts, is the only one to have a pointless topless scene, and contributes little to nothing to the overall story. Oh, and her name sounds like the word “doll.” If you’ve seen Pitch Black, this should make you absolutely furious. Richard B. Riddick is not sexist. Hell, the only reason he doesn’t leave Jack and Imam to die on the planet alone in Pitch Black is because of Carolyn Fry’s bravery and willingness to redeem herself. He actually sheds a tear when she sacrifices herself to save his life at the end. Are you kidding me? How could one possibly make a film so excellent and then write a sequel that is insulting to the very memory of the awesome female characters in Pitch Black?

My attempts to explain this phenomenon unfortunately bring me no comfort. The only reasons I can rationalize are (1) the writers/director decided that it was more important to pander to the He-Man Woman Hater side of the fanbase who thinks women are just things to be objectified (2) they failed to realize that writing a rapist into a story with only one female character makes you look like an insensitive sexist jerkoff. Rape is not to be taken lightly, and it is way too overused in the sci-fi/fantasy genres. There are other ways of presenting threats that don’t have anything to do with sexual interest. This is not to say that no one should ever discuss the subject, (it comes up in my work in small doses) but when it’s used for lazy purposes, it can be insulting to the characters and make the audience angry or uncomfortable. When used that way, it brings up the nasty idea that women can never be the equals with men because most men will never have to worry about the threat of rape unless they go to jail. There are plenty of differences between the male and female experiences. We are obligated as writers to explore them, but that is where the problem with equality in gender representation comes into play. Writing rape as a backstory should never be a shortcut just to squeeze a few tears out of the readers, nor should it just be an easy way to show that a bad guy is really bad.

One last distressing notion is women who are sexist against other women in fiction. It sounds confusing out loud, but sadly, there are a lot of female authors who talk shit about certain kinds of women whom they dislike for whatever reason. It’s time that I draw a line in the sand. If any of you have seen my Youtube series, you know that I greatly dislike the recent works of Laurell K. Hamilton, author of the Anita Blake vampire hunter series. I say recent because the first nine books, while not perfect, are pretty damn good. I grew up reading them. Then I got to Narcissus in Chains and it all came crashing down.

The problem with authors like Hamilton is that they think they are part of the solution when they are in fact part of the problem. For instance, in Cerulean Sins (the novel following Narcissus in Chains), Anita says that one of her clients is not a “liberated woman” because she prefers to be called by her husband’s last name and likes being a wife and mother. Anita’s vastly ignorant statement is not satire or criticism or a character flaw. This bitch actually believes that housewives aren’t “liberated women.” Let that sink in for a minute or two, and then please feel free to flood the author’s Inbox with hatemail at your leisure. In addition to that nonsense, Anita actively bashes feminine women (particularly tall blondes since she is a short brunette), and her author makes a point to show every other woman as either a psychotic kinky slut or a jealous whiner who hates that Anita has a huge harem of supernatural men who follow her around begging her to have awesome sex with them all the time. She makes sure that the male characters constantly dump undeserved praise all over Anita and the only time men don’t want in her pants is when they are gay. All of this is done in a vain attempt to prove how “tough” and “special” Anita is as a character, but all it truly does is make me want to take all of the books after NiC and have a bonfire out in my front yard with them.

Slut shaming is a huge problem in urban fantasy fiction where the female protagonists often have multiple love interests and steamy sex scenes. Sleeping with a bunch of guys can be ill-advised and dangerous, but there is no reason to try to reverse this problem by absolving a main character from any wrongdoing related to sex by making it forced on her by magic. Anita Blake is now a canon serial rapist thanks to vampire mumbo jumbo that forces her to bang her harem boys every day or she’ll die. She’s essentially a succubus with a serious chip on her shoulder. This is and always has been unacceptable. She’s nothing but a Straw Feminist. Hamilton builds up easy targets so she can mow them down with insulting, snotty comments that she thinks make her a feminist and a “liberated woman.” Don’t believe me? Watch the following.

The final point is this: the only way to combat sexism and misogyny in our favorite fiction is to simply speak up about it. Any authors worth their salt hungrily devour their readers’ comments, and if they are well-meaning authors, they can address these issues. Few writers go into a project wanting to make enemies. For the most part, they want their readership to be happy with what they’ve done. That’s why it’s so important to stand up for things that are generally awful like Riddick and Narcissus in Chains. That’s why it’s important for authors to read lots of material and recognize the signs of bad female characterization. It may happen by accident, but it’s still something that can be remedied. Everyone wants to be represented fairly. Women are no different. We’re fantastic and flawed. Write us that way.

-Kyoko

The Problem with Being Batman

Peekaboo...

What I look like when customers try to return outdated products.

Disclaimer: this post is not a response in regards to Ben Affleck being cast as the Caped Crusader. Believe me, I am getting to that soon enough. Boy, am I.

So tonight I had a particularly horrific experience at my day job. I work retail. If you’ve ever worked retail, I know your feels, bro. I work retail because I’m still a self-published indie author and my net gross selling books has only been enough to buy me dinner and a movie. Depressing, but them’s the breaks when you go into this thing on your own. Not my point.

I won’t go into detail, but I ended up spending over half an hour being screamed at by a couple who were returning over a thousand dollars’ worth of technology for undisclosed reasons and my store’s register wouldn’t work properly, and so it ended with them accusing me of stealing and calling the cops. Yeah. Fun times were had.

At some point during their tirade, I caught myself thinking what I’ve thought for a long time while working this job: this is not who I am. As angry as this couple made me—and believe me, I had to walk away from them three times in order to keep my temper in check—I almost got a case of the giggles when I stepped back and looked at my life. I just turned twenty-five. I’ve got one toe in the grave. I haven’t done much worth repeating in my years, sadly, but one thing is that I have a relatively firm grasp of who I am as a person.

For instance, for my birthday, I accomplished yet another thing on my Bucket List—I went out and got a tattoo. No, not a tramp stamp. I got something important to me, inspired by a man who has always meant a great deal to me since I was a kid. Sure, he’s fictional, but what he represents is really what got me thinking tonight after the meltdown at my store.

Close up Batman tattoo

I think being an author is a lot like being Batman.

At least, that’s what it’s been like in my experience. Let me explain. Bruce Wayne is a persona. He’s a rich, snobbish fop. If you’re a big Batman fan, you know that Bruce Wayne is actually the mask and Batman is the man beneath it. He uses Bruce to operate in normal society, to get around, to keep people from suspecting that there’s something more to him than what’s on the surface. He’s the handsome, shallow face on the package of a product. He’s necessary, and useful, but the truth is that he is just a façade.

Batman is the cause. Batman is the answer. Batman is the real man beneath the mask. He does all the things that really mean something—saving lives, seeking justice, putting fear into the hearts of the wicked, and inspiring hope and goodness to those without it.

I could never compare myself to such a great character, but I do think that his duality is something that most writers/authors experience. In our day to day lives, we are often mild-mannered wallflowers. Some of us blend right into the crowd. Some of us are shy and withdrawn. Some of us are fun once you get to know us, but we keep our real selves below the surface. Part of what I realized about myself while this French lady and her husband insisted that I was a thief and a charlatan was that they had no idea who the hell I really was underneath. Maybe it was just my ego, but I almost wanted to snarl at them, “Do you know who I am? I write stories. This job is not who I am. I weave entire tapestries of conflict and horror and wonder. I dig into the ribs of monsters and expose their guts to the world. I am not some retail monkey. I am powerful. I am fearless. I am the one who writes monsters. I am a goddamn writer, you putrescent simpletons.

So many authors are cursed with menial jobs that they don’t enjoy because sadly, this calling of ours isn’t always lucrative or fair in the money department. If you go into the writing business to make money, you’re going to starve. It’s a labor of love, pure and simple. However, nothing’s worse than being stuck doing something that you’re good at, but you don’t enjoy it. Tonight more than ever, I felt the call of the night, the call that I think Batman always feels when he’s trudging around wearing the grinning mask of Bruce Wayne.

Hell, one of my all-time favorite poems by Paul Laurence Dunbar speaks to this exact problem:

“We wear the mask that grins and lies

It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes

This debt we pay to human guile

With torn and bleeding hearts we smile

And mouth with myriad subtleties

 

Why should the world be over-wise

In counting all our tears and sighs?

Nay, let them only see us while

We wear the mask

 

We smile, but O great Christ our cries

To thee from tortured souls arise

We smile, but O the clay is vile

Beneath our feet and long the mile

But let the world dream otherwise

We wear the mask!”

As a writer, it’s hard to suppress that raw creativity and stuff it into something suitable for public consumption. I am a die-hard introvert, and so I never once raised my voice or lost my temper with these relentless assholes, but the entire time I felt like donning a cowl and bursting out into the cold night to fight criminals. The average person doesn’t know that I’ve written four novels. The average person doesn’t know that I gobble up stories like Pac-Man. The average person doesn’t know how many hours I spend a week meticulously planning to make my characters suffer. They can’t know, because it’s not the kind of job that everyone understands. Writers do something that’s important, but isn’t always celebrated like it should be. We get a lot of hate—especially those who’ve gone to college and gotten degree in the “useless” English major—and a lot of condescension. (“You write books. I’ve always wanted to do that. Maybe I will someday. Can’t be that hard, right?”)  Our love of literature and poetry and abstract concepts are so often swept under the rug because it’s not important to mass media and to the general public most of the time. It’s sad, but it’s just another fact of life.

I say all that to say this—the Bruce Wayne mask can be stifling sometimes. But when the sun sinks beneath the horizon and the moon calls your name, it’s all worth it. Lace up your boots. Put on your Kevlar. Tie on your cape. Go out there and kick some ass, writers. Who gives a shit if the world only sees Bruce Wayne? Batman makes headlines, dammit.

Don’t want us writers to be famous?

Make us infamous.

-Kyoko