In a modern day world teeming with marauding dragons, there is only one solution: The Wild Hunt.
Dr. Rhett “Jack” Jackson and Dr. Kamala Anjali have worked for the Knight Division capturing wild dragons for years, but now the government has decided to hold a tournament called The Wild Hunt. Jack, Kamala, and their teammates Calloway, Libby, Agent Shannon, and Yousef, must capture five of the deadliest dragons alive before the opposing team or they lose their jobs at the Knight Division. Jack and Kamala are also chasing after Kazuma Okegawa, the yakuza lieutenant who has been trying to kill them. Okegawa is planning a hostile takeover of the worldwide illegal dragon trade and if he succeeds, everyone will be in grave danger. Between the Wild Hunt and Okegawa’s plot to destroy everything in his path, Jack and Kamala have to rely on each other to stay alive in the middle of an inferno.
Of Claws and Inferno is the fifth book in the Of Cinder and Bone science fiction/contemporary fantasy series. It follows Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, Of Dawn and Embers, and Of Fury and Fangs.
Time to head back to Atlanta for more science fiction/fantasy shenanigans! It’s Terminus II: an anthology written by all black and African American authors. It features short stories from the following authors:
It’s been a long, grueling year, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still safely have fun. This October 15th & 16th, yours truly will be appearing at Multiverse Con in Atlanta, GA. Check out my panel schedule below.
Please join us if you’re in the Atlanta area! We’d love to have you!
Haven’t jumped on the bandwagon for the adventures of Seer Jordan Amador and her archangel companions? Have no fear! The Black Parade novel boxed set is here! That’s right–all three of my urban fantasy/paranormal romance novels in one place for one great price. Scurry on over and pick up a copy today!
Well, it’s happened again. A work of fiction had a strong start and then devolved into lousy material.
First off, obviously, spoilers for the Loki 2021 series as well as the general MCU films and shows up to now. You’ve been warned.
To give you some background, I actually wasn’t a Loki fan until far later in the game. I paid him no mind in the first Thor, enjoyed him in Avengers, and then slowly over the time between Thor: The Dark World and Ragnarok, Loki slithered his way into my heart. It’s not as if I think he’s the best character in the MCU or anything, but I adore him. He’s a shitlord. He’s so extra. He’s the embodiment of chaos. He managed to charm me and make me care about him, even becoming a sort of anchor character for me in my fanfiction writing sessions. Naturally, I was quite excited when they announced he’d been given a spinoff series after the events of Avengers: Endgame. I wanted to see Tom Hiddleston continue to shine in the role, even if it was just going to be for a brief extra story for us to enjoy.
And that’s how it started off.
Episodes 1 & 2 of Loki (2021) contain the content that I’d hoped for. We got to see Loki at the end of his rope, but in a different sense than his fate in Infinity War. He was thrown into an organization he knew nothing about and without his powers. He had to figure out how to survive without any hope of outside help, which we know he’s done before. It gave us some nice introspective moments, showed us he was human, showed us vulnerable bits to his character. We also got to see plenty of his faults and shortcomings, all of which was fun and interesting.
And then Sylvie showed up.
And as soon as she did, my enjoyment of the show pretty much evaporated.
ICYMI, Sylvie is a Loki variant who was caught by the Time Variance Authority at a young age, but she managed to (easily, so easily it was insulting) escape and hide in apocalypses her entire life plotting how to destroy the TVA for kidnapping her and removing her from her own timeline. Now, granted, on paper, that backstory is okay-ish, but Sylvie is my newest entry on the exhaustingly long list of fictional characters who suffer from what I call White Bitch Syndrome.
Now, I still plan to write a full essay on White Bitch Syndrome, but let me do a short definition here. White Bitch Syndrome is when a female character—and most of the time, she is white and blonde—in a work of fiction is given undeserved credit and disrupts the dynamic of whatever work of fiction she is in, causing negative consequences for those around her but never having to suffer those same consequences herself. To me, she is almost a subversion of a Mary Sue. She takes valuable screentime away from other far more interesting and well-written characters and does all of it with a sense of entitlement that makes me want to pull my hair out.
And that’s exactly what Sylvie is.
I cannot fathom what made the writing team for Loki decide that they should give 60% of Loki’s screentime to this snotty, entitled, obnoxious Loki variant. As soon as episode three hits, she completely co-ops Loki’s show to make it all about her.
And here’s the kicker: she’s not even interesting.
It’s a bait-and-switch. I came here for Loki (or Tom Hiddleston, depends on who you ask) and what did you do? You found the world’s most irritating white woman and gave her his show. This isn’t why I came here. At all. So not only did you give me something I don’t want, you didn’t bother to make her likable or even just interesting in general. The rules of writing, at least in my mind, are to make main protagonists in a work either likable or interesting. Sylvie is neither. She is such a borderline Mary Sue. She’s stronger, smarter, more powerful than everyone around her, she constantly shoots her mouth off to disparage Loki and the other characters, she thinks she’s better than everyone and the writing of the show seems to agree, and she makes EVERYTHING about her every second she’s on screen. It’s insufferable.
But that’s not the worst part.
What truly broke me was episode 4. I had to put up with this snotty character, fine, okay, as long as maybe I get some good Loki content with what little screentime he has left after she’s sucked it all up. No. It had to get worse. The show then states—after only one and a half episodes of interactions—that Loki has a crush on Sylvie/is attached to her.
Seriously?
He’s known her for like five minutes.
What the hell do you mean he likes her?
This element of Loki (2021) is what switched me from disliking it to outright hating it. Anyone who knows me knows that I hate it when fiction generates attachment between two characters without doing the leg work first. There are few things I hate as much as when characters barely interact and then the fiction states that now they’re in love or best friends or care about each other when there is little evidence in the work itself. Loki and Sylvie spent the entire third episode hating one another. The dynamic comes across like a brother and sister who can’t stand each other being stuck in the same place, having to make nice. Then the show just decides Loki is into her, despite no evidence, despite limited screen time, despite Sylvie showing no regard or concern for him at all. It comes across as the show telling us “this is a thing because I said so.”
And that’s not good enough.
Look, I know I’m biased. I’m attached to Loki and I don’t like blonde white women in fiction because of repeated instances of White Bitch Syndrome. But this isn’t jealousy. This is lousy writing. It is lousy of them to stuff this character into the narrative to take the focus away from Loki and it’s lousy of them to have Loki inexplicably have some sort of attachment to her when the evidence points to the opposite. He should simply be using her to get what he wants, but instead they have him following after her like a helpless puppy because her Super Special Awesome Powers are so much better than his and he can’t do anything on his own. They took a show with a unique premise and made a hard left, instead making it a platform for “ooh, look at this cool white girl” instead of keeping the focus on Loki trying to survive the TVA and destroy it. Loki honestly had more chemistry and attachment to Valkyrie–who soundly beat his ass and later begrudgingly tolerated him because they needed to stop Hela–than with Sylvie. I would believe he was into Valkyrie before I’d ever believe he was into Sylvie.
For me in particular, this is unacceptable because it just feels like Sylvie is nothing more than a vehicle for the white fangirls to imagine themselves into Loki’s story. It’s no secret that Loki’s fandom is majority female and I imagine it’s largely white women. Sylvie is a transparent Audience Surrogate Mary Sue-adjacent character designed to make said fangirls feel like they have a personal connection to Loki. They can easily see themselves as Sylvie and it seems to be the only real reason she was written into the story. If she had been properly written, she would have just remained a tangential antagonist either getting in Loki’s way or preventing him from reaching whatever goal he has for himself. There was no reason to write a forced wannabe romance into the story. It’s so unearned and unnecessary.
Alright, so I’ve made my case for why Sylvie sucks. Let’s pretend for a moment that I didn’t hate her with the fire of a thousand suns. That’s not the show’s only problem. Another reason why Loki (2021) began to tank for me is that Loki has almost no agency after the end of the second episode. The second he starts following Sylvie around, the show seems to forget this is a thousand-year-old demigod with magical powers and a wealth of schemes and plans. Everything from episode 3 onward has Loki little more than a doofus who likes to run his mouth. We don’t get to see any of that calculating intelligence that made us love Loki in his previous films and appearances. He’s not doing anything. He’s just stumbling from one place to the next utterly failing and not affecting change nor the plot itself. I fear part of the problem is that the writing staff took too much from Thor: Ragnarok without understanding that the film, while a comedy, also knew how to write a balanced Loki. We know Loki is capable of making mistakes, but the ones he commits in this show are egregious. It’s not organic to the character. It feels as if they are trying to emulate Ragnarok without allowing Loki the same agency and behaviors that made him so lovable in the first place. Think about it. Loki tricked Thor into thinking he was dead and impersonated Odin convincingly (or so we’re assuming, since we don’t catch up to him until 2017, which is 4 years after Thor: The Dark World) for entire years without anyone catching him. He then lands on Sakaar after Hela attacks and manages to worm his way into the Grandmaster’s good graces in only a matter of weeks. Loki has been an effective antagonist and part time protagonist for several films, which is why he’s been so popular. I don’t understand why they have written him completely bumbling and ineffective in this series after the halfway point in the story. In Fish Out of Water stories, you still need to have the protagonist affecting change and making important decisions that affect the plot and develop them as characters. He’s not learning anything, he’s not changing, he’s not growing. He’s stuck in the passenger’s seat while Sylvie drives the car off the cliff.
Speaking of unearned nonsense, this whole “friendship” between Mobius and Loki also annoys me. It’s like I’m not watching the same show. When did they become “friends”? Do they not know what that means? Presumably, Mobius and Loki spent several hours together investigating the Loki variant and while I actually quite like their banter, they too were not with each other long enough to consider each other friends. I don’t like it when fiction drops the F-word (friend, of course) unwarranted and this is another example. Mobius and Loki were at most colleagues. They were only together for two and a half episodes and then for a short bit in episode 4. The show yet again did not do the leg work but then handed us this forced claim of friendship when they’ve really just been enemies temporarily on the same side. I do think aspects of the relationship work, just not enough for the show to claim that now they are magically friends. It’s less of an eyesore than the claim that Loki likes Sylvie, but it’s still poorly written and has little evidence to back it up.
Another aspect of the show that bothers the hell out of me is they introduce Hunter B-15 and Judge Renslayer as powerful, competent women…and then sideline them. Hunter B-15 becomes Sylvie’s lackey after Sylvie’s enchantment caused her to remember her life before the TVA erased her memory. Hunter B-15 was introduced to us in a spectacular fashion, bitchslapping Loki and being an incredible force to be reckoned with. I remember being so excited to see a dark-skinned black woman on the Loki posters, hoping for more representation, and yet they’ve done what too many shows and movies have done with black women—forced them to be in the shadow of their white counterparts. Judge Renslayer is even more of a letdown that B-15. She is introduced as smart and coldly calculating, but then Mary Sue Sylvie EASILY beats her in combat and she’s turned into a mugging, desperate mess instead of someone who was ruling an entire organization with an iron fist for God-knows how long. It was fine for Renslayer to be off-balance finding out the Timekeepers weren’t real. What wasn’t fine was a white blonde woman domineering over a black woman who previously held authority. Renslayer presided over the TVA…and that’s the best she can do? Stall, lie, and babble in front of Sylvie? It’s so painfully obvious that the show wants to keep kissing Sylvie’s ass and insisting she’s the most powerful Loki of all and they sacrificed any potential greatness for Renslayer as a result. I don’t mind Renslayer turning out to be bad; she wasn’t giving off any other impression in the first place. What I do mind is having this white woman just sling her around like it’s nothing when Renslayer should be far more effective than that considering she’s been the boss for presumably years and years. Why the hell was she leading the TVA if she can’t even handle this one variant?
This issue in particular burns me up because while Marvel has been doing a really good job introducing people of color into the lineup and giving them agency, there has also been this trend of what I like to call checkmark diversity. This is when shows or movies include POC in a work as supporting characters in order to check off the diversity box, but they’re not actually giving these POC much to do. They are constantly overshadowed by the white characters instead. The show gets to claim they’re progressive and diverse, but when you look at the POC’s storylines and interactions, you actually don’t end up with anything other than window dressing. I can tell you several different ideas I had for what would become of Hunter B-15 and Renslayer, but none of those came to fruition. The focus remained on the three central white characters: Loki, Sylvie, and Mobius. We know for a fact that the MCU can write excellent black characters like Sam Wilson, Monica Rambeau, and Luke Cage. It’s a damn shame to have two enjoyable black women on this show and they’re just there to fill in a checkbox. It’s especially sad since I’ve seen some behind the scenes bits with the actresses and Tom Hiddleston and they get along wonderfully. It’s truly adorable seeing some of their interactions, so for the show to have them both end up doormats to the white leads is an utter disappointment for me personally as a black fangirl.
At the time of this post, there is still the Loki finale to be watched. Honestly, though, I have no hopes for it any longer. I had hoped that with the plot of episode 5 being Loki in what is basically Purgatory with other versions of himself that we’d get the focus back on him and his desires, but no. Sylvie finds him in like 10 minutes of screentime and goes right to making everything about her, fulfilling her White Bitch Syndrome duties and securing herself as a Mary Sue-adjacent character. I’m tired. I will watch the finale, but I’m expecting it to be just as disappointing as it’s been since the halfway point in the series.
It hurts me to say these things. I’ve written a metric ton of Loki/MCU fanfiction. I truly enjoy his character. I cried like a baby when he died in Infinity War. I really like him, but this show stupidly managed to take from him rather than give him more things, ironically enough. It’s not yet to a point where I declare it Discontinuity, but I am unfortunately not going to be really be taking anything away from this series. I’m probably going to ignore it and go back to my Denial Land of fanfiction instead.
My final point is that Loki (2021) is a cautionary tale because of its utterly squandered potential. The show’s trailers promised lots of things that looked amazing, but then once you pull off the cloak, all you get is a snotty OC and a very diminished, borderline derivative version of Loki. I am far more satisfied with the canon timeline Loki than with this Loki variant, which is a shame. I’m not to a point that I wouldn’t recommend the show, but of the MCU shows, Loki is certainly the weakest. It doesn’t live up to what it promised because of the writers’ inexplicable decision to give away his screentime to an entitled bratty character with, and this is just personal taste, a substandard actress with a grating performance. The lesson to be learned from this is that you have to know what you’re going after when you set off on a side story. The overall consequences of Loki have yet to be seen, but the implication is that the timeline is going to be destabilized and will then set off the Multiverse of Madness that will be addressed in Spider-Man 3: No Way Home and in Doctor Strange: Multiverse of Madness. That being said, I don’t think this show is strong enough to warrant anyone other than die-hard Loki fans a watch. I am open to the thought that maybe the finale will redeem the show, but it’s doubtful based on the evidence I currently have. More than likely, it’s going to go out on a whimper and not a bang and the romantic red string the writers forced around Loki’s neck is going to strangle him same as Thanos did.
I hope I’m wrong.
But I’m probably not.
Here’s to the multiverse. At least it has a version of Loki that’s not a disappointment.
Yes, you’re reading this right. I wrote a short story for Marvel Comics.
And you should totally buy it. Release date is March 9th, 2021. Purchase here. I can’t wait for you guys to check it out, but in the meantime, please spread the word!
Disclaimer: Do not go any further if you have not read The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher, but especially not if you have not read Book 17, Battle Ground. I mean it. You’ve been warned.
So. Y’all know I adore Karrin Murphy, right? So much so that if you literally Google the character (at the time of this post, anyway), my website shows up on the first f@#king page of results for the character. That’s how much I fervently love this character and what she’s meant to the Dresden Files and to Harry Dresden himself. It’s for that reason that in light of her untimely, stupid, unsatisfying fate in Battle Ground that I am going to take time out of putting a curse on Jim Butcher and his entire line to talk about her in depth. Because she deserves to be honored before I put this series to bed for good.
And yes, I mean that. I quit The Dresden Files thanks to Butcher’s bullshit move to unceremoniously force this incredible character out of the narrative in the most disrespectful manner possible. If you need reasons, find them here and here. Warnings for foul language. (Note: it’s also worth it to read the comment threads for the latter post. There’s a whole lot to unpack about just what in God’s name Butcher was thinking and how utterly betrayed he’s made so many of his fans feel. But I digress.)
How do I love thee, Karrin Murphy? Let me count the ways.
Back in 2014, I attended a Dragon*con panel for Jim Butcher and worked up the courage to approach the mic with a question. I asked him if he had always planned for Harry and Murphy to get together or was it something he noticed as he continued writing the series. He answered that while it’s true he never truly planned out Harry Dresden’s love life to the letter, he felt it was probably always inevitable given that even their first interaction in the first book is playground teasing. You see, Harry (at least back then) had this thing about being chivalrous and Detective Karrin Murphy was a modern feminist, so she hated it if he tried to hold the door for her. The first scene with them together is of these two full grown adults racing for the door to the crime scene and Harry getting there first to open it for her, wearing the most shit-eating grin, as this is a frequent competition between the two of them. He does it just to annoy her and that was probably the first indication that I was going to love both him and her.
It’s difficult to know where to start with why I adore Karrin Murphy. I guess in the simplest terms, Murphy is exactly the woman that I wish I could be. I honestly probably idolize her as much as Harry Dresden does. If I didn’t have a mental illness and self-confidence issues, Murphy is the kind of woman that I would aspire to be. When I think of powerful, worthwhile, well-rounded female characters, she’s always been the frontrunner. It’s not about the fact that she’s a sharpshooter and an aikido champion and a badass wielder of a holy sword—it’s that she’s all of those things, but she’s also her own person in a real sense. She knows herself. She knows Harry. She knows that he is worth protecting, so she protects him. She knows that he does so much good solving cases and preventing murders in Chicago that it’s worth it to make sacrifices for him, because he would do—and has done–the same for her in a heartbeat.
Murphy is courageous, but realistic. She’s ruthless in her pursuit of justice for her city and for the victims whose murders she has to solve, but yet she is capable of being vulnerable. She is fearless, but flawed. She is so many complicated things, but all of those things add up to an exceptionally written person. She is arguably as well written as Harry Dresden is, and that’s saying something considering how he too is a layered character with so much to offer.
I think I also love Murphy because she’s also very much like the best women in my life, like my mother, my sister-in-law, or my cousin. These are dynamic, intelligent, inspiring women who have always been those same great things that Murphy is. I’ve been lucky enough to be surrounded by positive female role models since I was a kid, so Murphy is also a comfort to me because she is so much like the family members I’ve known my whole life. One of the reasons the Harry/Murphy fans are theorizing that maybe Jim Butcher based Murphy on his first wife and the divorce made him turn on her character is because it’s shocking that a white straight male author was even capable of writing a woman this nuanced and this close to what real great women are like. It may be why she felt so real to us—maybe he was drawing directly from aspects of his own marriage and that’s why Harry and Murphy’s relationship and love felt so powerful and genuine. Maybe that’s why she was so inspiring to read, is that he really did have that influence in his life.
I love this character because she embodies all the best parts of what women have to offer. She made Harry a better man and yet that wasn’t her only role in the story; she had her own path she walked as well, but it simply ran parallel to his and it never felt like she was just a tool for him to use to accomplish a goal. Harry’s inner monologue has so many instances where he’s just in total awe of her, not in a pedestal sort of way, but in a respectful, appreciative sort of way. He can’t believe he’s lucky enough to bask in her sunlight, and he made us feel the same way about her through his narration and through their adventures together. She is such a worthwhile character that it’s why I can’t fathom why Jim Butcher would coldly and callously toss her aside in the manner that he did. I’ve read and watched enough fiction to know the difference between hitting us where it hurts for the good of the narrative and a man who has turned bitter against his own creation and decided to systematically destroy it.
For now, I guess I can just take comfort in the fact that if Murphy were real, she’d break Butcher’s arm in three places so he couldn’t write anymore f**king tripe.
I’m still hurting. Quite a bit. That’s why it took me so long to sit down and write this out. That being said, I think I owe it to Murphy in her original form to get past this and forget Jim Butcher. There’s a line in the movie Kiss Kiss Bang Bang where the narration—coincidentally, the main lead’s name in that movie is also Harry—is talking about Harmony Lane’s favorite set of detective novels that inspired her to become an actress but also escape her abusive father, and the author of those books later came out and said they were bullshit and he hated them and just wrote them for the money, and the line goes, “He was just the writer.” It is possible to separate the art from the artist. I think I owe it to Murphy as this phenomenal character to not let Butcher’s bullshit choices ruin her legacy and cause me to feel this way about who she has been to me and what her love story with Harry has meant to me.
Hell, it’s what Murphy would want for me, I think.
And that damn sure is more important than one sorry ass writer.
We have just one month to go before the fourth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs, hits bookshelves! Here’s the final excerpt. As always, spoilers ahead.
–
Several pounding knocks on the door to her suite awoke Dr. Kamala Anjali from slumber.
The 5’4” scientist groaned into her pillow, but lurched from her bed and shuffled across the carpet to open the door. When she did, she was met with an attractive black man in his thirties. He had a goatee and wore a gun-metal grey Kevlar suit with a helmet tucked under one arm, and he was beaming down at her with excitement.
“We’ve got a live one, doc,” Bruce Calloway told her. “Get dressed.”
Kamala sighed. “Now? I only finished my last analysis four hours ago, Calloway. I’ve just barely gotten any sleep.”
“Oh, I know how to put the pep back in your step.” He leaned in slightly. “It’s a mimic dragon.”
Kamala’s honey-brown eyes widened. “What?”
“Yep. Someone called it in about fifteen minutes ago and dispatch sent word just now.”
“Have any of the hunters caught word of it yet?”
“No. We’re first on the case.”
“I’ll be ready in five,” she promised, and then shut the door. She scurried over to her closet and ripped off her boyfriend’s oversized MIT t-shirt and shimmied out of her shorts in favor of grabbing an armored suit nearly identical to the one Calloway wore. However, hers was much smaller and tailored to fit her curvy frame. She zipped it up and checked that the pouches on her utility belt were all snapped shut before slipping her phone into one, snatching up her helmet, and rushing out the door.
“Where?” she asked Calloway as they hurried down the hallway of the barracks towards the hangar.
“Farm on the city outskirts,” he said, punching in some coordinates in the digital interface built into the forearm of his suit. Kamala’s suit beeped and then she brought up the information he’d transmitted. “Guy went to go check on his herd when he heard an uproar and found the mimic dragon inside munching on a calf. Scared him half to death, so he called it in and holed himself up in the house with a shotgun just in case.”
“Good man,” she said. “I’m glad some of the civilians aren’t trying to go after them on their own. I can’t believe it’s a mimic dragon. They’ve never been seen in North America before.”
“Exactly,” Calloway said as he hit the button for the elevator. “Civvie said that he didn’t want to open fire and cause a stampede, and that after he calmed the cattle, he couldn’t find it again.”
“Incredible,” Kamala said. “Aren’t they the size of a large dog?”
“Or bigger, from what the history books say,” he agreed. “So the chameleon thing must be real. But it begs the question where those clowns even found the DNA to replicate it. Like the arctic dragons, mimics are incredibly rare with less than a hundred ever sighted in the wild before the worldwide extinction.”
“If we get one thing right in this endless mission, I hope we find out just how the Apophis Society is gaining access to those DNA samples,” Kamala growled, watching the numbers on the elevator click up to the launch pad level. “They are insanely well connected. We’ve been keeping tabs on nearly every source of dragon DNA on the planet and yet we’re always one step behind. Did you hear the rumor that some remains of an intact diablo dragon went mysteriously missing?”
“Yeah,” Calloway sighed. “Them’s the breaks. Especially when your evil global organization has access to pretty much all the money you’d ever need to fund your illegal cloning operation. I just pray they haven’t had a successful trial. The diablo dragon’s the second deadliest species on Earth and we’ve already got out work cut out for us.”
The elevators opened onto the roof of an enormous hangar. It was the wee hours, so there was only one helicopter on a designated pad with its console lit up. Spotlights bounced off its polished steel and illuminated the white emblem on the side that depicted a heater shield with the initials K.D. upon it.
Calloway and Kamala climbed inside to find the pilot waiting. He was tall, olive-skinned, and mid-thirties with a thick beard and a winsome smile he aimed at his teammates as they boarded.
Calloway gave him a grin and a fist-bump. “Yousef, my man. Who did they drag you out from under to come fly us out?”
The pilot laughed. “Shit, they offered me time-and-a-half so I told her I’d buy her breakfast when I got back.”
Calloway shook his head. “Incorrigible. Got your coordinates already?”
“Hell yeah. Let’s kick the tires and light the fires, kiddies.”
Calloway and Kamala strapped in while Yousef did the pre-flight check and made sure their gear had already been loaded as well, and then the helicopter took off into the night sky.
“When’s the last time you checked the feed for any hunters in the area?” Kamala asked over the roar of the helicopter rotors.
“About fifteen minutes ago,” Calloway said. “It’s quiet so far, but we both know that doesn’t mean shit since any pissant can give it a go these days.”
“Tell me about it. I will never understand why they endanger themselves for money and the pretense of fame.”
“That’s because you’re a grownup, doc,” Calloway snorted. “Most of these ‘hunters’ are kids. Either adrenaline junkies or rich little Youtubers trying to increase their follower count. Until we get the legislation in place, it’s a damned free-for-all.”
“As if our job isn’t hard enough. You’d think the death toll would dissuade them by now.”
Calloway shrugged a shoulder. “Get rich or die trying. Emphasis on the die part.”
Kamala shook her head. “Every morning, I pray that this world returns to some form of sanity before my daughter is old enough to have to participate in society.”
Calloway gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Who are you kidding, doc? The world was never sane to begin with.”
She gave him a regretful smile in return. “Touché.”
The ride wasn’t terribly long–just under fifteen minutes, and mid-April meant a cool night in the Midwest. They came up on a mid-sized farm with plenty of open acres, its grass and forests already green from the beginning of spring. Yousef found a flat stretch in the field to touch down and they climbed out. Calloway strapped a net launcher across his back and Kamala activated her dragon tracker as they approached the barn.
“Shit,” she muttered as she examined the interface. “The interference with the cattle is pretty bad. It’s throwing off the readings. Plus, they’re almost in a frenzy. We’ve got to get it out of there before they all go berserk.”
“Roger that,” Calloway said as he tugged his helmet on and slid the launcher around to his hands. “What are you thinking?”
“Strobe lights,” she said. “The noise of the cattle is too loud to try an audible distraction, but it’s probably dark in there and it’ll be attracted to light. I’ll be the bait. Just be ready.”
“Yes ma’am.” He offered his fist. She bumped it and then took a deep breath before continuing forward on her own.
The farmer had left the barn’s side door unlocked for them, so Kamala carefully pushed it open to reveal the large space with its dirt floors and iron bars where the cows were corralled daily to be kept at night. By now, she’d gotten used to the stench of the livestock; after all, the smell pervaded the air for miles and she’d gotten a whiff as soon as they left the helicopter.
The cows shifted and mooed in protest with nervous energy, their eyes glowing from the few spotlights in the ceiling. It was almost completely dark inside and the constant shifting of the frightened cattle made it difficult to concentrate, but she managed as she shut the door behind her.
The iron bars that held the animals were securely posted in the ground, but she knew if all the animals panicked at once, they could trample them or bend them out of shape. She walked forward slowly with a small, military-grade flashlight in one hand and her tranquilizer gun in the other. She had hoped the cattle had grouped together in one spot to avoid the predator, but they were scattered throughout the enclosure and seemed just as confused as she was of its whereabouts. The stench of gore and spilled guts reached her and she glanced to her right to see the corpse of the calf the dragon had already devoured. Most of its internal organs were gone, leaving a pool of blood and torn fur behind. She suppressed a shudder and slid into the pen to examine the area.
She checked the claw marks in the dirt and glanced up to see that one of the skylights had been shattered. The dragon had dropped down from above much like an eagle scooping up prey and had killed the calf on the spot. The cattle had run to the other side of the pen to avoid being mauled as well, and currently were bumping into each other to stay away from the fresh kill. She spotted a trail of blood leading away from the corpse and squinted at the cattle. A few of them had scratch marks on their pelts. The dragon had likely gotten spooked by them, or by the farmer when he entered the barn to check on the noise, and would have attacked in self-defense.
Kamala lifted her flashlight to the walls of the barn, going slowly, and checking it against the dragon tracker built into her suit. She didn’t see anything on the ceiling or on the walls. There was a chance it had left the barn again, but her gut told her otherwise. She continued towards the cattle and checked among them for anything unusual, but she didn’t spot the dragon trying to hide among their ranks. With a frustrated sigh, she turned to head back to the door.
Then, her tracker beeped.
There, not three feet from the shredded calf, lay what she had thought was a pile of hay and dirt. The heads-up display in her helmet switched to a different field of vision to reveal that it had been the mimic dragon in camouflage the entire time.
Kamala froze and swallowed hard. “Maa ki aankh.”
And just as she recognized it, the dragon opened one grey eye and stared directly at her.
“Calloway,” she whispered. “I’ve spotted it.”
“Atta girl,” he said over the comm-link. “Are you coming out of the side door or do you think it’s going to make a break for it out of the skylight?”
“Not sure,” she replied. “No scarring. Based on its lack of aggression, it may never have interacted with anyone since it was cloned. We know there are different sites out there, not just the ones planted by the yakuza and the Apophis Society. Did the farmer say it tried to attack him?”
“No. It gave him a warning, but he’s not hurt at all.”
“Then there is a good chance that it will simply be attracted to the light instead of attacking. I’ll try and get it to come out of the side door.”
“Ten-four, doc.”
Kamala muttered a quick protection prayer before she switched the flashlight from a constant beam to a strobe setting.
The mimic dragon opened both eyes, and its scales changed from the dark brown and light-yellow imitating the dirt and hay to a light green with mottled dark green patterns along its back and down its tail. It was roughly the size of a North American wolf, just as she’d suspected; big enough to be dangerous, but not impossible to catch if one had the know-how. The dragon unfurled from a ball and shook out its wings, staring intently at the flashing light. Calf blood dripped from its fangs and dribbled down its mandible as it walked towards Kamala, its nostrils flaring as it took in her scent.
Behind them, the cattle mooed loudly in fright, and the walls of the barn shook as they tried to pack themselves against the far side. Kamala eased out of the pen and took slow steps backwards. The dragon followed her as if hypnotized. “We’re coming out now, Calloway.”
She pushed the door open with her heel and walked through it backwards, her gaze never leaving the creature as it trailed after her. She needed just a few more feet to give Calloway a clear shot and then they’d be home-free.
Just then, a strange buzzing noise sounded overhead.
Frowning, Kamala glanced up to see a drone appear from over top of the barn. “What the hell?”
Before she could move an inch, the drone shot a blast of glow-in-the-dark ink at the mimic dragon. The reptile snarled and shook out its wings, then leapt into the air after it. The drone flitted away into the night sky like a bat out of hell.
“Shit!” Kamala snarled. “Someone else is out here.”
Calloway swore. “It’s probably leading the dragon to whoever owns that damn droid. Come on!”
They booked it through the field after the fleeing drone and the angry dragon, heading towards a line of trees near the border of the property. Kamala pulled a silver whistle from her utility belt and slid up the visor of her helmet, bringing it to her lips. She blew hard.
The mimic dragon swerved mid-flight and circled around, flying towards them instead with a roar of annoyance.
Calloway skidded to a halt and planted his feet, aiming.
“Down in three…two…one!”
He shot the net launcher. The diamond-wire net deployed, but the dragon spun nimbly out of its path and ploughed right into him at top speed. Calloway and the dragon tumbled backwards in the tall weeds in a heap. The dragon dragged the launcher from his grip and slung it several feet away from him. It turned to one side as Calloway sprang to his feet and cracked its tail at his midsection. Calloway brought up a forearm and blocked the blow before grabbing the dragon’s appendage and latching on. The creature wriggled and snapped its head around towards him, much like a captured gator, but he turned counterclockwise out of the path of its jaws.
Snarling, the reptile’s throat bulged and then it spat a fat glob of venom at his head.
“Shit!” Calloway ducked just in time and heard the weeds behind him sizzling as the acidic substance ate straight through them. “Aren’t you just a charmer?”
“Hang on!” Kamala called as she hurried over, but as she did, the drone zipped past her, missing her by mere inches. Bright flashes lit up the clearing as the drone’s camera snapped photos of the beast. The dragon thrashed angrily and lobbed a mouthful of venom at the drone instead, but it veered to one side and kept taking pictures.
The dragon snapped at Kamala’s heels as she scampered past it and dive-rolled in the tall grass. She snatched up the net launcher when she came up on one knee and shouted, “Calloway, down!”
The other dragon hunter released the dragon’s tail and jumped back just in time. A second net shot out and engulfed the dragon. It yelped and fell in a tangled bundle to the grass.
“It’s alright,” Kamala said soothingly, rolling it onto its belly. “Easy, easy, now.”
She retrieved her tranquilizer gun and measured the dosage carefully before injecting the dragon in a soft spot beneath its jaw. The creature’s wriggling slowed, and then stopped altogether. She checked its pulse and sighed in relief that it was stable.
Then she stood, reached for her flare gun, and shot the hovering drone right out of the sky.
It exploded in a shower of sparks and fell to the ground in a mass of broken metal and glass. She stalked over to it and dug out the camera attached, which still had a little red light indicating that it was recording.
“Whoever this is,” Kamala said, seething. “Do not ever try this again. You are not a dragon hunter. You are a reckless, ridiculous child seeking attention and you nearly endangered my life, my colleague’s life, and the life of this dragon. Cease this madness immediately or we will come after you with the full force of the Knight Division and the U.S. government.”
With that, she threw the camera to the ground and stomped it to cut the feed.
“Well,” Calloway said mildly. “That’s one way to make an impression.”
“I tire of these fools,” Kamala growled as she swept off her helmet and dusted the dirt away. “How many more innocents will die while they play these games?”
“I’m sure a few centuries ago, some folks just like us were asking the same questions,” he said solemnly as he signaled Yousef to fly over to them. “Ain’t nothin’ new under the sun, Kam.”
He nudged her shoulder with his own as he removed his helmet and gave her a reassuring smile. “But we’re still making a difference one dragon at a time.”
“We are, but will it ever be enough to change the tide?”
“Guess we’ll find out together. Good work, doc.”
She smiled back at him. “Good work, Calloway.”
Just then, her cell phone buzzed from inside one of the belt’s pouches. Confused, she withdrew it to find her boyfriend calling. Strange, she thought. It was nearly two a.m. in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
“Jack? Honey, what are you doing up so late?”
She heard him exhale shakily into the phone. “I know, baby. There’s…there’s been an accident at the house.”
Kamala’s blood turned to ice in her veins. “Oh God, Jack, are you okay? Is it Naila?”
“She’s fine. We’re both fine, but…I need you to come home. It’s a mess. Everything’s a fucking mess and I need you here.”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can. I swear it.”
“Thanks, angel,” he sighed. “Call me when you land.”
The most that I can say is at least we’re still here. I know that these annual posts recap 2019 through the current date, but woof. It’s hard to for me not to talk about the first half of 2020 while discussing the time between now and my sixth year post. And hell, we thought 2019 sucked. We had no idea, did we?
Sadly, thanks to the pandemic, I don’t have a cute pic of me hugging any celebrities. 2019, as mentioned above, was an unkind year to me, same as most people. I did manage to catch up with Charlie Cox and get my Playbill to Harold Pinter’s Betrayal on Broadway signed, but Mr. Hiddleston stood me up this time around and that is a summary of 2019 and 2020 in a nutshell: me, standing outside in the freezing cold, staring at a door that won’t open, my dreams held within it. Melodramatic, but true.
Well, you’re not here for my open wounds, you’re here for what semblance of advice that I can give you, so let’s get to it, shall we? Here’s what I’ve learned in my seventh year of being published.
Expect the unexpected. I know it’s impossible, but there is a lesson to be learned here for 2020 throwing everything at us but the kitchen sink. You can’t prepare for everything, but you can learn how to adapt to an unprecedented situation. No one thought we’d end up where we are now, but in spite of that, those of us who have survived are still here and doing our best to stay afloat. No one ever wants to find out what they’re made of in a worldwide plague scenario, but it’s here and so we’ve all had to tighten our belts, toughen up, and support each other as best as we can.
This sentiment is to remind yourself to appreciate what’s in front of you, for you have no idea what’s coming. All you can do is try to build a foundation that will remain standing when the world winds up a brick and hurls it at you. You have to keep an open mind and be ready for change. Sometimes it’s voluntary change and other times it isn’t. Identify the best way to proceed and set a new course. It’s alright to mourn the things you lost along the way, but nothing kills you faster than refusing to let go. Trust me, I know that from personal experience.
Try to work by your own standards. This past year, someone started a hashtag on Twitter that was about how much published authors make and it was extremely eye-opening for many people, both those in the industry and those outside of it. Truth be told, the publishing world does not like to accurately portray itself to the rest of the world. That hashtag revealed that a lot of us are just tiny fish in the pond, desperately searching for breadcrumbs. There are far more of us who grind out books and cannot support ourselves on writing full time than the reverse, but that’s not what the publishing world wants you to think. They want the world to see us as Stephen King’s, thinking we make money hand over fist.
It’s tough to find the motivation to spend hours writing if your sales suck. That’s the hard truth of the matter. Many of us are busting our asses to make good fiction and still see little to no results. The other truth of the matter is that we’re holding ourselves to an unfair standard. We see these big names raking in the dough and try to match their sales when it’s not realistic. Sure, it would be wonderful if everyone sold millions of copies and secured movie deals with creative control, but it’s not going to happen for a majority of the writing world, both traditional and independent/self-published. That’s the cold, hard facts.
So now what do we do?
Find your spot and plant your feet.
It’s okay if you’re not making thousands of dollars a month off of your fiction. It’s wonderful if you are, but the numbers say that most of us aren’t that fortunate. Instead, focus on what you ARE able to accomplish instead. Break your goals down into something more achievable and take it a day at a time. Often what prevents us from writing or being productive is that impossible standard hovering over our heads and you have to kick it to the curb. Find goals that satisfy you and do your best to meet them as often as possible. At the end of the day, your opinion of yourself and your work is the most important, not that of everyone else’s. They aren’t in your situation, so it’s fruitless to wring your hands trying to emulate them.
Change is scary, but sometimes unavoidable. Some of you may already know, but I originally finished the first draft of my upcoming fourth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs, in early 2020.
And I hated it.
Really. I’ve never hated anything I’ve written before. It was a strange feeling for me to pick it up and slam it back down, sure that it was the worst trash to disgrace the face of the Earth.
I took some time off. I worked on my mental health and managed to get a handle on the fear and anxiety, and then consulted my writing sensei with my problem. He was thankfully able to help me reaffirm what was wrong with the book and helped me develop a strategy to fix it.
And again, that had never happened to me before.
Sure, I’ve hit walls. I’ve had long periods of not writing. But I’ve never written what I felt was a bad story, or rather, written a good story incorrectly. This time, oh yeah, I totally did. I think that the stress of the 2019 to 2020 period had gotten to me and so I was pushing myself to write when I didn’t quite have everything together. I was pushing the wrong angle, so I had to regroup and understand what was needed to fix it. At the time of this post, the revisions for the second draft are roughly half done and the book’s pre-order is live, so I’ll have everything ready by the release date.
Still, this was one of the first times I had to admit my own failure and take things back to the drawing board. It’s also a byproduct of this series being so different from The Black Parade series, which for the most part was planned from A to Z. I knew the plots, but all the things in between were genuine surprises. Of Cinder and Bone was much more off the cuff for me. The stories generate themselves out of thin air rather than being so carefully planned. It may be why I was off the mark in the original draft, but thankfully, I wasn’t so off that I had to destroy most of the book; just retool it and save some of the content for later.
What did end up taking me so long was my own stubborn refusal to admit the first draft sucked. Or, rather, to be brave enough to find a way to fix it. I definitely wanted to give up on the book at a few points, but slowly, I regained my confidence and went after it.
Naturally, most experienced writers know this is totally possible and prepare for it, but to any newbies out there, this is a terrifying feeling. It’s okay. Sometimes you just have to get it on the damn pages and then worry about fixing it later, when you have at least a teaspoon of your sanity back.
Reflect carefully and as often as possible. It’s no surprise that with the pandemic, unemployment is as high as it was during the Great Depression and everyone’s miserable, scared, and broke for the most part. As a result, pretty much across the board, everyone’s struggling to make money. My June sales were sadder than Requiem for a Dream. Well, unfortunately, writing is the same as most businesses: you have to spend money to make money. I’ve had to get awful creative in my attempts to promote Of Fury and Fangs without breaking the bank. Keep in mind, just blitzing social media with links and photos doesn’t work. Don’t believe anyone who says it does. You have to do better than that, as the average person’s ability to simply filter out advertisements on the Internet is very developed by now.
While doing so, I happened past some of my older methods of marketing and promoting, using free or low cost options like digging to find sites that let you post for free or writing guest blog posts. While time consuming, it is helpful for the overall SEO for the book in its early stages to spread the word. It’s not all about mailing lists and expensive site postings. There is value in doing the small stuff that can add up over time to get your work out there to people.
Is it a pain in the ass to produce more content like author interviews or guest blog posts? Totally. But it’s just as valid as the other methods as long as it’s allowing your further saturation. It doesn’t matter how you get yourself into a reader’s vision, just that you get there and reach them in a meaningful way.
Be good to yourself and to others as much as you can. This should be a no-brainer, but it ain’t. Especially not for me. I am my own worst enemy. Always have been, always will be. However, therapy has helped me recognize the impulses that I have to treat myself poorly and while I’m still doing it, the awareness means that I have a chance to do better.
The pandemic has made a lot of us realize that many of the things we used to do to decompress or find happiness are no longer possible. That means doing a bit of soul-searching and finding alternative ways to be at peace, or if you’re lucky, happy. It’s unfair and extremely difficult, but it’s worth doing for overall mental health. To that end, many authors have been stressed out thinking that they should be writing some magnum opus during quarantine. That’s simply not true. It’s okay to just get by. You don’t have to become some award winning author and write the next great novel. The most important thing is to keep your head above water, which does not happen if you’re constantly yelling at yourself for not writing. 2020 is ungodly stressful. If you find a way to weather the storm, go with that. It’s great if you can also help others. Give yourself a break.
After all, 2020 sure ain’t gonna do it for you.
Well, that’s all the time I have this time around. Sisyphus has got to get back to pushing her boulder up the mountain. I hope I’ll see you guys back this time next year. For God’s sake, be smart, be careful, and be diligent. Here’s to seven years.
“Feuds are never about hate. Feuds are about pain.”
Who would’ve thought a mini-series about two aging Hollywood actresses feuding would have turned out so damned good, if you ask me.
Honestly, if I just say it out loud, FX’s 2017 mini-series Feud sounds like a boring melodrama. It’s not. Somehow, it’s not! It’s a tightly written, brilliantly acted, compelling character study of two women I’d literally never heard of before the series and now that I’ve watched and rewatched it, I have to say that it’s probably one of my favorite things I’ve seen in the last several years of frankly disappointing TV. I’d like to take a moment to shine the spotlight on why I found this mini-series so compelling and decided to pick back up on the topic of writing as well.
Spoilers for FX’s Feud, naturally.
However, unlike my other Things X Taught Me About Writing, because Feud is somewhat obscure and today’s 2020 world probably like me wasn’t really in the know about the divas of days past, I’ll give you a bite-sized recap. Feud is about the famous feud between actresses Joan Crawford and Bette Davis. The two starred in the Oscar-nominated 1962 film Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? Decades of resentment, problems on set, and meddling third parties all contributed to the feud and the series takes real life events and firsthand accounts from their feud and builds a story from it. What’s neat is that the series really does try its best at recapping the events of bygone decades. If you look up the events of Bette and Joan’s lives, they do in fact line up with what is portrayed in the series. Keep in mind that this is going to focus on the series itself and we’re not assuming that everything that happens is an accurate representation of their lives. Instead, we’re analyzing how the show decided to depict them, so remember, I am not dishonoring the memory of either actress. We’re treating this as fiction, same as anything else. Let’s dive in and see what worked as well as what it has to teach us about writing.
Character matters. The focus of the series is on the many intricate, complicated motivations and lives of Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. What fascinates me about the series is that it manages to frame both women as completely human. They are both clearly talented women, but their faults are so enormous that it causes them to butt heads even though they certainly share similarities. At the same time, the show never loses focus on what is most important. Each actress is given more than enough time to show us who she is.
Joan Crawford is larger than life. She wears furs and diamonds and needs to be seen at all times no matter where she is. However, that larger than life persona is hiding a vain and insecure woman who has never felt respected and never felt like she was taken seriously despite her hard work at her craft. By contrast, Bette Davis is a hard-nosed roughneck who cares about one thing and one thing only: her work. She is brutally honest to the point of being insulting and would happily dismiss anyone who dares to cross her path, which makes her very lonely. She is also plagued by not being conventionally attractive by Hollywood’s standards, so she had to fight twice as hard to become an actress since we all know Hollywood is a thousand times harder on women’s appearances than men.
What works so well in this series is how it dives deep into the problems in their personal lives and then compares it to what made them clash on set and even in private. Neither women is seen as better than the other. Neither woman is seen as worse than the other. The series helps us understand the best and worst parts of Bette and Joan. It does it so well that you’re captivated with every new development of conflict, whether internal or external. It’s a reminder that it doesn’t matter what the hell the story and plot is about: if you write compelling characters, your audience is going to stick with them through thick and thin. And Bette and Joan’s lives are nothing short of a rollercoaster. You see their highest highs and their lowest lows. You see every facet of their personalities and their performances. The two are just as much alike as they are different and it all adds up to a phenomenal story.
Hubris is a bitch. As mentioned above, the show is excellent at portraying hubris. Joan’s biggest flaw is a mixture of her insecurity and her arrogance, which is a lethal combination. It causes her to act out and lose her temper many times, often resulting in self-sabotage. She destroys several opportunities for herself because she is so unwilling to let go of her vanity and her ego because she needs to feel appreciated and loved. Bette’s biggest flaw is that she is uncompromising in any area and unwilling to forgive or admit fault due to being so prideful. She bulldozes right through anyone at the slightest provocation, thereby escalating her problem of being isolated and lonely. The two of them are already powder kegs and working on the same film together just lights the match and lets you watch that wick burn down until it’s time for the grand explosion. The two gleefully take shot after shot at each other, building and fueling their resentment for one another as they continue to associate with each other over the course of filming the movie, and then again when they try to team up for Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte.
Character flaws are vital to any good character. No one is perfect, and if they are, hell, even that can be considered a flaw, for it means no one can understand them. Bette and Joan’s flaws pull you into the story more and more as you see them start to unravel as they’re at each other’s throats. You can understand why some of the people in their lives might have thought they should have been friends, for the struggles that they come up against are real and scary and often sympathetic. Even though they are both famous Hollywood starlets, it gives them an angle for you as the viewer to understand them.
Female-led stories have a different focus than male-led stories for a reason. One thing I truly applaud this mini-series for is that it very much feels like it’s written by women for women. It’s in everything. It’s the performances, the backstories, the dialogue, the settings, the clothing, the supporting characters. There is a distinct way that it feels when a female-led story has a good writer who truly understands the way a woman experiences the world, but especially Hollywood during this decade. The series takes place during the 1960’s. It’s not a politically correct world in the slightest. Women were still expected to be homemakers or subservient to their husbands. Actresses were—and certainly still are—supposed to be beauty queens who gracefully bow out once they stop being “attractive” and they’re also put through hell by the sexist powers that be in Hollywood.
The series shows some of the ugliest sides of the moviemaking business, from directors cheating on their wives to snotty actors refusing to cooperate with production. What’s more is that the lens is still clearly focused on what is important to Bette and Joan, and it’s very reflective of the things that women have to put up with in our daily lives. It sounds crazy that the average woman would at all relate to two Hollywood starlets in their later years in the 1960’s, but it’s honestly quite easy.
Joan was a beautiful woman in her youth and therefore is unable to adjust to being in her sunset years. She became so accustomed to getting what she wanted out of men that once that power was gone, she couldn’t cope. She had to provide for her children as well during a time when she was struggling to get any roles, and those roles were dissatisfying to her as well. Seeing how Hollywood turned its back on her is very harsh, as fame is truly a cruel and fickle mistress. We all have seen stars who were household names one day and then vanished in the blink of an eye and then forgotten. Joan had to fight and claw her way to become a star and yet it’s taken away from her by what usually defeats us all: time.
Bette is a hardworking actress who had to hone her craft due to not being conventionally pretty, so she has an outer shell that is as thick as concrete. She never wants to let anyone get close to her because her work comes first. It always comes first. Even at the cost of her personal and professional relationships. She’d quickly toss someone aside for the chance at a role that could be worth it in the end because she needs to feel appreciated for her work more than she needs to feel loved by others. Any working woman can sympathize with that, but especially creatives. So many of us have sacrificed things in order to make our art as great as it can possibly be.
What hits hardest is seeing Bette and Joan struggle against so many things being women of that era, where men do not want to give them power but instead want to manipulate them. Jack Warner of the Warner Bros Studio in particular is a good example of what actresses of the era had to come up against. All he cares about is money and appearances. Nothing else matters. Having to answer to someone like that must have been hell and we see the effect it has on the two of them. It’s a sign that the writing is focused on the right areas. Often, women are unable to advance their own careers or even their own lives because of men of power, and sometimes, men who should in no way be in that position of power. It’s a dark reminder that while things have certainly gotten better, it’s still tough in general working while female, as the #MeToo movement has revealed. I have to say Feud is one of my favorite feminist portrayals of women to date, and feminist in its true definition, not the warped one that some of the fakers use to justify their hatred of men. Bette and Joan advocate for themselves and each other, wanting to be held in equal regard with male actors in Hollywood. I think it resonates with many women facing the same double standards and unfair rules in place to stop them from achieving their goals. It’s damn good writing, if you ask me.
I also wanted to give a quick shout out for the supporting characters of Hedda Hopper and Mamacita, who both manage to have their own miniature arcs and are important for carrying along the story and conflict in unexpected ways. Hedda Hopper is a viper and you’re not meant to like her one bit, but you have to admire how vicious she is in going after what she wants no matter what. Mamacita’s no-nonsense attitude and strict demeanor manages to come across as charming and subtle at the same time, as you see how deeply she cares for Joan, but she shows it in a rather particular way. Both women have motivations and ambitions that women share and understand as well, and it’s a nice contrast to Bette and Joan’s as well.
I know Feud certainly isn’t for mass consumption and won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. I give it credit where credit is due. I’d say if you’re a fan of character introspection and stories heavily based on personal conflict, give it a whirl. It did manage to win two Primetime Emmy awards and was nominated for a bucketload of other things (some of which I definitely think they should have won, but I digress.) If any of the writing lessons above sound good to you, I encourage you to check it out, and maybe even give the life stories of the real Bette Davis and Joan Crawford a look-see as well, for there is much more to them than meets the eye.
