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~ A random repository of how-to-write and geekery, with an occasional snippet of accidental wisdom.

The Upstairs Archives

Monthly Archives: November 2014

Insubstantial

28 Friday Nov 2014

Posted by erinkenobi2893 in Tales of a Wandering Bard

≈ 54 Comments

For all you Loki fans out there…
FYI, I still can’t think Loki would ever be “nice.” I don’t know if he totally lacks empathy, but I can’t imagine him being a total good guy. An antihero, maybe. But not a good guy.
Insubstantial
Not knowing who or what you are, or what you are meant to do or become, is a nightmare with no backdoor and no awakening.
Loki knows that far better than anyone. He has never had a purpose, unlike Thor, and even when he believed that he was indeed Odin’s son he still didn’t know what he was meant to do.
If he was to say that it was Odin, or Thor, or Laufey that made him like this, it would be a lie. Because there is only one person who made him this way. And that person was Loki, no one’s son, no one’s brother, the one with no real substance of his own. Everything that Loki appeared to be was masks.
He wears and sheds those masks, those names, like snakeskin, as it pleases him, and his pleasure is aimless. He is mischievous and deceptive, but not evil. Or at least, he doesn’t mean to be. How can one be evil without a purpose?
And how could one be truly good without direction?
He hates himself, sometimes. All the time, really. It’s not exactly something that he can escape. It’s not something he can turn off. He can’t lose himself in anything. He envies his brother… anyone, really. Anyone who is oblivious to their own heroism, or to the harm they’ve done.
Ignorance may destroy them all in the end, but ignorance truly is bliss.
Every time Loki clashes with his brother or his brother’s human friends, he truly envies them. So innocent. Naïve maybe, but knowledge and power equal torment.
He envies them their ability to connect with people. Yet another thing he has never been able to do. Even the self-proclaimed narcissist still has people he lets in close, who he actually cares about.
In another life, he might have been one of them. Rather than being the enemy, he might have worn the colors of an Avenger.
As it is, he is doomed to self-loathing.
He is as cold as ice.
He doesn’t like the feeling.

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To Those Who Stay Behind

25 Tuesday Nov 2014

Posted by erinkenobi2893 in Living Life with Passion, Tales of a Wandering Bard

≈ 86 Comments

Sorry about the mess, my editor hates me now, apparently…
Anyway, I’ll also have to apologize for the absence. It’s been ridiculous lately. Hopefully I will be around more often now. With that in mind, this one of my awkward attempts at free verse… hopefully it works out well. Tell me who you think the characters in the poem are. 😉 Enjoy!
To Those Who Stay Behind
You, the rootless wanderer,
With no place truly that is home,
You stand beside your guardian’s last command,
Breathless, on the edge of the abyss.
Take courage.
All this shall pass you by. You shall learn peace of heart.
Wisdom will be your guide always.
Though you feel helpless now, there are millions you have aided.
Millions more wait in the future.
The last wishes of your father will give you direction.
You will find your feet again, though you can not see it now.
You stand out of ashes, the weight of the worlds on your shoulders.
Take it now.
Guide the child from the dark.
What you have always held, raise it now.
Do not fear the flame.
A fire to heal, a warmth to protect,
A light to all the nations.
Do not hide it under a bushel. Let it shine.
The child beside you; guard him well,
The wide-eyed wonderer, gathering all the worlds in his palm,
Fireflies for your delight.
You, with the weight of the worlds on your shoulders
Now hold the fate of those worlds between your hands,
And do not look back, though you still feel lost,
Look to the child beside you,
The curious, wide-eyed wind-carried dandelion wool
With all the worlds cupped in his hand,
Who once was you.

Hollow Homecoming

15 Saturday Nov 2014

Posted by erinkenobi2893 in Living Life with Passion, Tales of a Wandering Bard

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

completed stories, dreamworks, fanfiction, how to train your dragon, short stories

Six words:

How To Train Your Dragon 2. *cries* How could they? *sniffs* That was beautiful and it hurt so much…

No spoilers.

Anyway, having seen Dragons: Riders/Defenders of Berk, I couldn’t help it. I had to write this. Enjoy, if you can…

The rest of this post contains SPOILERS. Read on at your own peril.

Hollow Homecomings

                It started out as a normal day.

By now, Hiccup had fallen into a rhythm, a routine. It was predictable enough to give him just a hint of a sense that he knew what he was doing. Repair the homes broken in Draco Bludvist’s attack. Patrol the coasts and farther afield with the dragon riders. Make sure you stay in touch with the people of your tribe (Valka had advised him on that account; apparently early in his life Stoick had alienated and distanced some people, and that had made a stink.)

But now, any pretense of normalcy he could claim had just… stuttered to a halt.

A dragon (a seadragon, his mind mechanically simplifies) is flapping down towards Berk. This shouldn’t have alarmed him, would not alarm him on any other day. Dragons just didn’t randomly destroy everything here any more. But now, he’s just… standing. Staring at the sky. Frozen in place.

The dragon flaps down to land by his feet. He blinks at it. “Thornado?” he croaks. “Is that you?” The thunderdrum is gazing about, as frantic as a dragon can look. And suddenly, all the frantic pain Hiccup had felt when he realized that his father wasn’t breathing came rushing back. The dragon rumbles something at him, a question, and by now Hiccup understands the creatures well enough to know what Thornado is asking, though he wishes he didn’t.

He falls to his knees under the weight of his shattered world. “He’s… gone.” And suddenly, he is crying, with the dragon curled partway around him, sobbing his heart out into the rough scales, grateful for the warmth underneath them but hating himself for being so weak, for not being the son his father wanted. Tears stream down his cheeks and Thornado licks at them, seemingly puzzled by the phenomenon of human tears. “I’m sorry,” Hiccup sobs, “I am so, so sorry. This is all my fault…”

Somehow, Valka, Cloudjumper, and Toothless find them like this, it seems like eons later. Hiccup is still crying, unable to stop. Toothless nudges up against Hiccup, trying to make him feel better; Valka wraps an arm around his shoulders; Cloudjumper wraps all his four wings around them. “Why?” Hiccup whispers. “Why?”

“We don’t always know the reasons, son,” Valka whispers, clutching him like she’ll never let go again.

“This is my fault. I never know when to get out of the way.” Hiccup replies. His ribs and head ache, but he still can’t stop crying.

“That’s not true. It’s not your fault and it’s not Toothless’ fault, either. It’s not your father’s fault. He died to save you, son. It was his last statement of how much he loved you. If you must blame someone, blame Bludvist.”

“I hate him!” Hiccup hisses fiercely. “I hate him!” He doesn’t specify who. It’s so muddled, he could hardly say.

“For how he makes you feel? For making you feel weak?” Valka presses, softly. “You have a big heart, love. To feel this less would make you a lesser man. You’re strong, but you feel deeply in a way your father never did. You’re everything that was good in him. You will get past this. The grief will never truly go, believe me, but the rage will die down and you’ll be able to bear it better.”

“I miss him,” Hiccup confessed. “I always used to be so angry, to feel like… I was continuously disagreeing, butting heads with Dad. But now he’s gone…” He sniffed, swiping at his eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You have us,” Astrid said, pushing under Cloudjumper’s wing. Stormfly snipped her protests from outside the huddle, mostly ignored. “And you’ve always been great at improvising. You’ll figure it out. You may be the chief, Hiccup, but don’t forget, that also means that your tribe has your back.”

“Even if it doesn’t feel like it,” Valka added. “You’re not weaker for crying, Hiccup. You’re just compassionate.”

“You’re right,” Hiccup said, quietly. “All of you. I suppose I can do this. For Dad.”

Ad Post Hoc

09 Sunday Nov 2014

Posted by erinkenobi2893 in Tales of a Wandering Bard

≈ 28 Comments

Tags

completed stories, fanfiction, marvel, short stories, the avengers

Okay, this is an official (my first official!) Avengers fanfic. Because I saw the Avengers over Friday and Saturday and YES I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT IT WAS SO AWESOME!!!! And I just had to write this because I love Cap and I think Tony Stark is pretty cool when he’s not being, y’know, obnoxious. 😛 Also, I cried over Dr. Erskine so he HAS to get a mention!!!

Enjoy! 😀

Ad Post Hoc

                After a battle, there’s generally a mess.

No one knew this better than Captain Steven Rogers, the World War II veteran. He hadn’t often had to clean up the physical messes, though—more often, he dealt with the psychological fallout, both in himself, and in his men.

After Manhattan, they couldn’t go back to their lives as they had been before—well, not that he had a normal life in the first place, at all, and probably did neither of the others—but when you’ve come together against the odds and fought as a team, you will always be that team.

Fury had them go their separate ways—setting them loose on the defenseless, unsuspecting world, Stark had called it (Steve had almost laughed, it sounded that much like Howard)—but Steve wasn’t going to leave on his road trip just yet. He wasn’t ready.

Unfinished business, they had called it in his day. (Now, that seemed to have a slightly different connotation—Barton?) Lack of closure, they called it now.

Both terms were accurate, but in different senses. Different senses for different ways of thinking that had been in vogue, traded out with time.

Steve found Stark on one of the floors of the Stark Tower that was not entirely destroyed. (Sorry about that, Mr. Stark. It really wasn’t our fault, though.) Stark turned to face him, side by side with a tall strawberry blonde woman in “comfortable” ripped jeans. Stark made a face at him, rather childishly, but Steve still caught the tiny smile that flickered across his face, mostly hidden by the neat trimmed goatee.

“Captain Rogers,” Stark acknowledged him.

“Mr. Stark.” Just like before.

“May I introduce the incomparable Pepper Potts.” Steve smiled, genuinely.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.”

“I can see you’re eager for your boy talk, so I’ll just slip out.” Steve watched her, surprised. She was startlingly discreet, and perfectly poised as well. He had been introduced to her mere seconds ago, but he already respected her. Stark cleared his throat.

“Mr.—” Steve’s voice caught in his throat. He coughed. “Anthony.”

“Call me Tony. Anthony is the name I get called whenever someone wants to find something.” Steve blinked at the near-sacrilegious joke, but let it slide.

“Tony…” he tested it out. Stark—Tony—raised an eyebrow at him. “I have something I want to say. I owe you an apology.” Tony flapped a hand at him indifferently.

“Don’t get all gushy on me. I’m allergic to mush, fuzzy-warm, whatever.” Steve barked out a short laugh.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said to you about sacrifice. I was wrong. I misjudged you. Now I know—you may be a lot of things—reckless, for one, and probably crazy—but you are willing to give up your life for others. And that’s something I can respect.” Steve smiled, self-consciously. “Howard Stark was kinder to me than he should have been, by the laws of the jungle, but it’s not for me to judge him, in either direction. I considered him a friend. I hope to consider you a friend, as well. It has been an honor to fight beside you, soldier.” Out of habit, he gave Tony a salute, slightly more relaxed than he would have back in the war. Tony half-smiled, half-grimaced.

“There you go again with the touchy-feely stuff.” He wrinkled his nose. Steve suppressed a grin. Tony moved over to the couch and sat down. “I wasn’t very close to my father. He was always absent… founding SHIELD… looking for you. I don’t know why we’re having this heart to heart, but for a while, I really hated you. But I’m starting not to. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“That’s all I can ask.” Steve replied. He paused. “My mentor, Dr. Erskine, told me once that it’s really the man that matters. It’s the man that makes the hero. And you are a good man, no matter what anyone says. You just pretend not to be.” He smiled. “I’m glad to finally meet you, Tony Stark.”

After the captain left, Pepper came back in, half-smiling. “What was that all about?” she asked, softly, as Tony wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“You know, I’m starting to understand why my father never stopped looking.” he said, softly. Pepper smiled. It seemed that Tony had finally found some sort of peace, as far as his conflicted feelings about his past were concerned.

Despite being patently not a team player, Tony had finally found his team.

 

Thoughts? Questions? Please comment! Tell me how I did and is Tony in character (I’m not absolutely sure since… well, Tony!)? Thanks for reading, and God Bless! 🙂

Why We Bash: A Defence of the Practice of “Bashing”

06 Thursday Nov 2014

Posted by erinkenobi2893 in Living Life with Passion, Uncategorized

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

bashing, editing, internet, marvel, reviews, spiderman, writing

You know, the number of drafts in my pool is supposed to get lower as time goes on, but my numbers keep going up and up… what’s with that?

Recently, I’ve seen comments around the web by people who criticize criticism. They say things like “remember your decorum!” “cut them some slack!” “whatever happened to charity here?”

While I especially agree with the last one, this only goes out to a point. While I’m all for cutting slack for people (again with the love the sinner, hate the sin theme), there is a point when I have to say, “No. The hero has turned into the villain here. This is too far. Disowned!”

After all, these people and companies are in the public eye. They have a higher responsibility than the rest of us for giving scandal; if they give scandal, they tend to give it to millions more people than private persons give it to; even if you have a thousand friends on Facebook. And here, I’m also going to make a call to arms.

It is our responsibility to bash bad literature and poor movies. If we want a high standard in entertainment, we must let the entertainers know that, and an important way of doing that is partially through bashing.

However, it is equally important that we are even-handed and fair in our bashings. We have to keep it all in perspective, or we’ll end up with an enormous mess on our hands. Citizen journalism is a big thing. Thanks to new (and older) technologies, everyone is a critic. Everyone has someone’s ear; if not the “big people”‘s ears, then the ear of someone who has.

As Uncle Ben says, with great power comes great responsibility. (And fyi, Uncle Ben wasn’t actually referring to the fact that his nephew is Spiderman. Was that a spoiler? Whoops… *grins unrepentantly*) With the ability to access the Internet comes the ability (and perhaps the responsibility) to bash. And with this ability to bash comes the responsibility to be honest and fair. Because, if a bad review turns up on some website, it could ruin the writer/creator/filmmaker/owner, and if they don’t really deserve it, they’re hardworking people and nobody–I repeat, nobody–has time for that sort of nonsense.

So bash away, when the book is repulsive! Just be careful of what you bash, and why. 😉

Making Humor Work

05 Wednesday Nov 2014

Posted by erinkenobi2893 in Living Life with Passion, Story Dynamics, Uncategorized

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

brian jacques, c.s. lewis, captain america: the first avenger, creative writing, cressida cowell, editing, harping on an eyesore syndrome, how to train your dragon, humor, john flanagan, kung fu panda, looney tunes: back in action, marvel, marvel superheroes, nanowrimo, nanowrimo 2014, national novel writing month, oocs, out of character syndrome, perelandra, ranger's apprentice, redwall, spontaneous expedient character defamation syndrome, star wars, story dynamics, the avengers, the chronicles of narnia, the lego movie, the space trilogy, who framed roger rabbit, writing

I know, I know, it’s been forever. :-S Sorry about the long hiatus. I really have no excuse.

On to the post…


I don’t like some animated movies.

Yeah, I know. BIG surprise. But seriously, I don’t. Why?

Because the humor doesn’t work. Well, at least not for me. (My dad tends to laugh in these movies, so maybe it’s really a subjective thing…? Anyway, I don’t find them awfully funny.) Who Framed Roger Rabbit is probably the best example of this. The humor doesn’t work. (And who among us wasn’t completely mentally scarred by that stupid movie in early childhood, anyway?!) It’s a mixture of slapstick, poking fun at the characters, and innuendo. Even without the innuendo, to me it would be offensive. I much prefer the wry humor Halt uses in the Ranger’s Apprentice books. And the fun word-play and occasional mild slapstick that appears in the Redwall books.

When a movie does that, I like to call it Harping On An Eyesore Syndrome.

Some movies are, to me, a mix of playful and painful. Normally the ones that are the least painful also have the most heart, probably because they’re the ones that the filmmakers either 1) actually love or 2) know what they’re doing with.

In Kung Fu Panda, I found myself actually laughing at some of the gags, though some of them still got a blank stare from me. Brave and Tangled, the same, though I think Tangled really takes itself a bit too seriously. (Come on, Disney! You can’t have it both ways. Either keep your trademark irreverent humor, or make a “serious movie”.) Cars… do not even get me started on this movie.

The Lego Movie? I thought it would be totally stupid, but win.

How To Train Your Dragon? Absolute win.

Loony Tunes: Back in Action? Okay movie. Not my favorite. It was a blatant rip-off of spy movies and Indiana Jones, but unlike The Lego Movie, it didn’t click. I think it was trying to do too much.

Prince of Egypt? Okay, some of the humor slipped up, but mostly it was good.

So, why does some humor work but other humor doesn’t?

I think that there are a number of factors.

First of all, does the movie have “heart”? What do I mean by this? Well, in my opinion, I think this means are the characters really relatable? They can’t be just punching bags (unlike Jar Jar Binks… seriously, guys, the reason you and/or other people hate on him? It’s because he has no character development. He’s a talking, walking cardboard-or-rubber-or-both stand-up. And yes, that was pun intended.)

This leads well into my first point. The humor must be acknowledged by the characters. They must reply realistically to it, whether it’s in hurt, gamely taking the hit, or pretending not to respond while inwardly being cut deeply by the jab, even if it wasn’t intended to be insulting.

Secondly, if the humor helps to acknowledge a point of the plot, so much the better. It helps it mesh better with the rest of the story, and doesn’t poke out like an eyesore.

Some of the humor in movies like Kung Fu Panda and Captain America: The First Avenger is like this. It acknowledges the pure sucking-ness of the main character before they become awesome. However, it should never be overdone, because then instead of being humorous, the result is laughable. They make too light of a matter that’s all too serious for the main character and lose the audience while they’re at it. (The First Avenger did a marvelous job using this type of humor; it made us want to both laugh and cry at the same time. Perfection.)

Thirdly, humor can be a character’s lifeline. Rather than going stark raving insane… um, was that an unintentional Avengers pun? Never mind. Anyway. Rather than losing it, entirely and permanently, they can deal with it by making a joke. Some of these jokes are sad, but some can be pretty darn witty. (The First Avenger again. Also How To Train Your Dragon–though that’s more sarcasm than actual humor–and Kung Fu Panda, which also made me want to cry in parts.)

Finally, sometimes the characters will just make a joke unintentionally, or crack one on the aside, to keep a plot moving, so the audience doesn’t get bored. (The First Avenger. Par excellence.) My absolute favorite line in Perelandra is when Dr. Ransom slips up:

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, here goes–I mean, Amen!

So, bottom line?


1. Humor can help keep characters sane.

2. Humor meshes well if it’s used to acknowledge something (as in lampshading a plot oversight and making it into a joke) in most cases, but don’t overdo it. (Cars. ‘Nough said.)

3. Do not poke fun at your main characters for no reason, or you may end up sacrificing character development and making your entire book into a bad joke.

4. Absolutely no spontaneous expedient character defamation or out of character syndrome. Because that is not funny. Most of the time, not even in what is referred to as “crackfic.”

5. Some characters are just pretty darn funny (like Halt, Major Montgomery, Bucky, Cap, Arven, Gobber, Gonff, Edmund Pevensie, Dr. Elwin Ransom, and Sir Percy Blakeney) without even trying.

So, that’s my post on humor and how to and how not to use it. Good luck, Nanoers. 😉

Thanks for reading, God bless, and have a great day. 😀

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