Blatantly stolen from a much cleverer writer than me (Jason Hornsby, author of Eleven Twenty-Three), here are a dozen cool facts you should know about The Eerie Adventures of the Lycanthrope Robinson Crusoe that will make you want to run out and read it.

Or run out and buy it, then run home and read it.

 I suppose you could just order it from home and not run anywhere.

 You get the idea…

1)  The ongoing rivalry between Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift described in the Foreword is completely true.  Defoe and Swift had a relationship that swung back and forth between bitter rivalry and open hatred.  Swift’s book Gulliver’s Travels was specifically written to be a one-up on Defoe’s The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe Of York, Mariner.
2) According to the dates given in Defoe’s original novel, the title character was born the day after a full moon.
3)  Defoe names almost no characters in his original novel, so most of the names in this version were created or came from Lovecraft works.  The shipmaster from Crusoe’s first sea voyage is named Martense.  H.P. Lovecraft’s story “The Lurking Fear,” centers around a mansion built by a wealthy merchant named Gerrit Martense.
4)  The words “werewolf” and “lycanthrope” are never used in the book.  When Crusoe is studied by Moorish wise men, he is told the Arabic name for the beast is almustazeb.  After escaping the island, Crusoe himself references the loup garou of France.
5)  The wise men tell Crusoe many conflicting stories about their reference book, including one which claims it was written by a sorcerer who was driven mad by writing it.  Lovecraft claimed the Necronomiconwas written by the “Mad Arab” Abdul Alhazred.
6) According to the dates given in Defoe’s original novel, the title character was shipwrecked on the night of a full moon.
7) The nightmare of a vengeful god, the mist-shrouded valley, the cannibal savages, and Friday’s wooden sword are all elements of the original Robinson Crusoe and were not created for this book.
8) Friday’s father is named Walla-Kay, which Crusoe is told is both a name and a title.  In H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Shadow over Innsmouth,” the narrator is told the story of Obed Marsh who discovered an island of halfbreeds ruled by a priest-chief named Walakea.
9)  When mutineers land on the island and abandon the captain and his loyalist crew, there is one passenger among them, a young man named Wade Jermyn.  In H.P. Lovecraft’s “Arthur Jermyn” the main character references a great-great-great-grandfather, old Sir Wade Jermyn, who was an explorer.
10) The leader of the mutiny is the ship’s boatswain, a Moorish pirate by the name of Slaader.  In H.P. Lovecraft’s “Beyond the Wall of Sleep,” the subject of the story is a Joe Slater, a “strange, repellent scion of primitive Colonial peasant stock” who alternately spells his last name as Slaader.
11) After Crusoe’s party is attacked in the mountains between Spain and France, he spends time recovering in Gevaudan, France.  Gevaudan is the home of the legendary “Beast of Gevaudan,” a monstrous wolf that roamed the countryside.
12) Crusoe’s children are named after famous werewolves from film and television–   Lawrence Talbot (The Wolf Man), David Kessler (An American Werewolf in London), and actress Kate Hodge (who played Randi in The She-Wolf of London).  Crusoe’s wife, Guinevere, is named after a college friend of mine who wanted a character named after her (Guinevere is an early spelling of Jennifer).
November 10, 2011 / 3 Comments

Tone Deaf

           So, I wanted to talk to you a bit about G.I. Joe.

           Not the cool cartoon, mind you.  Or the toy line.  No, I’m talking about the completely God-awful, live-action movie.  It had problems.  Lots of problems.  Not the least of which was a  complete failure to remember sixth-grade science class.
            The big issue I’d like to address, though, is the weight.
            Doc Brown and his assistant Marty taught us that some things are heavy.  They have weight.  They have, if I may use a literary term (sorry), gravitas—a certain dignity and importance and bearing.
            Stephen King, on the other hand, taught us that some things are soft and squishy and bleed a lot when you shove knives or claws or fangs into them.
            And let’s not forget the Wachowski Brothers, who taught us that some things get shot.  A lot.  In slow motion.  While doing kung-fu.
            What do all these things have in common?  And what do they have to do with weight?
            Well, let’s think about it.  Doc Brown and Marty didn’t think everything was heavy, just a few key revelations that came to them across three movies.  Stephen King doesn’t kill everyone in his stories—all in all characters in his books have a pretty decent survival rate (The Stand notwithstanding).  The Wachowski Brothers might have pioneered “bullet time” and virtual camera array shots in film, but there’s also a lot of stuff in The Matrix that follows basic camera set-ups—master, overs, coverage, done.
            And then there’s the G.I. Joe movie.  Which was cool.  Super cool.  Cool action, cool characters, cool lines of cool dialogue uttered coolly in cool situations.
            Saying cool that many times is kind of lame, isn’t it…?
            Anyway, keeping that in mind, I’d like to perform a simple experiment.  Please pay attention to the next paragraph.  Take notes if you feel it might help you recall things.
            LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!!!!
            So… what parts of that stood out to you?
            Odds are none of it did.  Well, maybe the fact that it ended.  In fact, you probably skimmed it, didn’t you?  Any sane person would’ve.  It was a bunch of LAs, that’s all.
            Here’s another example, one which will probably drive my point home.  Have you ever heard a tuning fork?  Have you ever felt compelled to listen to one for hours?  Tuning forks are perfect, y’know.  If you have a middle-C tuning fork, it will hit that note and hold it for ages.  Why wouldn’t you want to listen to constant perfection?
            Because it’s boring!
            A tuning fork plays one note.  That’s it.  It’s the musical equivalent of LA LA LA LA LA LA.  Middle C is great, and any musician will tell you it’s invaluable to performing almost any composition, from Ludwig Beethoven to Lady Gaga.  But it isn’t the only note.  It’s important because it’s part of a system of highs and lows that we call music.
            Stories work the same way.  A story that’s just all the same thing is the literary equivalent of a tuning fork.  It’s neat for about a minute and then it starts to wear on your nerves.
            Comical and serious.  Loud and quiet.  Horrific and reassuring.  Thrilling and mundane.  Failure and success.  If you look at any good story, you’ll see that it swings back and forth between extremes in a series of low troughs and high peaks.   
            Yeah, The Matrix had tons of kick-ass visuals and amazing action sequences.  It also had a scene of Neo getting berated by his boss, mocked by an old woman in a kitchen, and a lengthy discussion about the true nature of “Tasty Wheat.”  Some of these scenes were vitally important to the plot.  Others were just interesting character moments.  They all had different weight.
            This is what the creative folks behind G.I. Joe didn’t get.  You can’t have all cool lines and allcool action all the time in a story.  If everything is set to ten, it all has the same weight.  Another way of saying “all the same” is that it’s monotone.  And monotone is boring.  It’s boring whether it’s all set to three or five or ten or eleven.
            Y’see, Timmy, it’s the back-and-forth, up-and-down nature that makes for interesting stories.  A good story has a baseline that the reader can relate to.  It’s going to have pitfalls that sink below that baseline, and maybe some really tragic potential consequences.  And it’s going to have some parts that grab the reader’s attention, shoot high above the line, and make the heart start pumping.
            Because if it doesn’t have these back-and-forth elements, if it’s all the same, then it’s just a line.  It doesn’t matter how high the line is.  It’s just a flat line.
            And I’m sure most of you know what “flat line” is another term for…?
            Next time, I have three things I’d like to talk about.
            Until then, go write.
November 4, 2011 / 1 Comment

Changing It Up

            So, the back and forth thing really hasn’t gelled in my mind, so I’m taking the easy way out and just tossing up a quick tip.  A day late.

            Man, I’ve got to be honest.  The new Blogger is not working for me at all.  It’s such a radical change behind the scenes here.  It takes twice as long to do anything because they’ve needlessly spread everything out, and it’s just hard on the eyes.  Who thought orange on white was a good color scheme?
            Anyway…
            I don’t know about you, but I tend to write in Times Roman, single-spaced.  It flows a little easier on my eyes.  It also lets me have more of the story there on the page in front of me.  It’s just my thing.
            Now, speaking of change (as we were), there comes a time when it has to go into the correct format for submissions—Courier 12, double-spaced.  And I don’t do this at the very end.  I do it at the start of my last or second to last draft.
            Changing it like this forces my eyes to look at it differently now. Unlike Times Roman, Courier is a proportional font—it uses the same amount of space for every letter, so an I on the page uses the same area as an M or a W.  You could actually lay out a Courier page on a grid and it would all line up.
             When I reformat my manuscript, all the words sit differently on the page now.  Their spatial relationships shift.  Lines don’t end in the same place.  Because of the spacing, the words themselves look different.  Check it out.
See how different these two lines look?
See how different these two lines look?
            What this means for me is that I’ve got a chance to look at my writing fresh.  Which means another chance to look at it with a critical eye.  Since I’m not being distracted (so to speak) by the familiarity of words and sentences that I’ve seen a dozen times, it lets me catch things that could be tightened up or are a bit repetitive.
            Even after a ton of slashing, I cut another two thousand words out of -14-after I switched formats.  So many things stood out now as excessive verbiage or unnecessary descriptors.  I’d made a good five passes at the manuscript at that point, but none of them really popped until I looked at it like this.
            So try changing things up and see if it helps your next round of editing.
            Next time, I should have this other post figured out.
            Until then, go write.

October 28, 2011 / 4 Comments

Blaming the Victim

            I’ve finally switched over to the new Blogger format.  A bit torn on it, myself.  Please let me know if you like it or not, because I can duplicate the old style, it just takes a bit of work. 
            Halloween is upon us, which means it’s time for me to do something horror-related here on the ranty blog.  It’s a topic I’ve touched on once or thrice before.  This time I thought I’d put a slightly different spin on it.
            As some of you know, I spent last weekend up at ZomBCon in Seattle.  It was eye-opening in several ways, and one of those ways (like any decent convention) was the people in costume.  There were a lot of fantastic zombies and related beasties, but there were also a lot of zombie fighters—people with miniguns and machetes and body armor.  Heck, one of my fellow Permuted Press authors, Eloise J. Knapp, showed up dressed to kill.  Not in the fun way.
            A lot of horror tends to focus on the enemy.  My zombies are different from your zombies.  Your vampires are different than my vampires.  Neither of our axe-wielding, demonically-possessed psychopaths are like her axe-wielding, demonically-possessed psychopath.  Horror can be broken down into many  different sub-genres, just like sci-fi, comedy, or other art forms like sculpting or painting.  Being labeled “horror” doesn’t mean Frankenstein is anything like The Descent, and neither of them resembles Paranormal Activity VII.
            What I want to talk about, though, are the victims.  Different types of antagonists define a story, true, but the same holds for the protagonist.  While A vs. B makes one type of story, A vs. C is something different and D vs. G is another world altogether.  So recognizing what type of characters I’m writing about can help me define what kind of story I’m writing, which helps me market it.  If I tell an editor it’s not torture porn when it plainly is, at the best I’m going to get rejected.  At the worst, they’ll remember me as “that idiot” when my next piece of work crosses their desk—even if I’ve fixed my mistakes since then.
            Here’s a few types of horror stories and the people you often find in them.
Supernatural stories
            Not talking about the television show, mind you. 
            The characters tend to be average folks in most supernatural stories.  They’re not idiots, but they’re not millionaire Nobel winners or retired assassins. Almost universally, the main character of a supernatural story rarely comes to harm.  They’ll need clean underwear, maybe have to dye their hair back to its natural color, and they probably won’t sleep well for a few months or years.  Physically, however, they tend to come out okay.  There might be some mental scarring, but that’s about it.  If anyone suffers in a supernatural story it’s usually the bad guy or a supporting character.  Often, though, people have died in the past.
Slasher stories
            These tales feature teenagers and young adults as their victim of choice.  Lots of teenagers, out of which two at most might survive.  A few people over the age of twenty-five may catch a machete, but ever since John Carpenter made the original Halloween (and it was horribly misunderstood and copied by dozens of filmmakers) it’s pretty much set in stone who the victims are in this sub-genre.
            A key difference between slashers and torture porn stories (see below) is that the victims here have a chance to escape.  It’s rare for the victim to die without hope or warning in a slasher film.  There’s often a chase or at least a struggle.  We get the sense that if Phoebe didn’t trip over that tree root or if Wakko hadn’t stopped to “deal with this guy” they might’ve gotten away.  Heck if Dot just could’ve run a little faster she would’ve made it to the car and relative safety.
Monster stories
            A monster story is about an unstoppable creature.  Godzilla is a monster, in a very obvious sense, but so is Freddy Kruger (in his later films), a zombie horde, and the alien in Alien.  I think the reason Jason X is so reviled by fans of the franchise is that the filmmakers turned it into a monster movie, not a slasher film like the ones before it.
            As such, the focus of a monster story is usually to get away from the threat.  Yeah, most horror movies involve running away.  In a monster story, though, it’s immediately self-evident this is the best choice of action.  Monster stories can have a lot of survivors because the monster, by its nature, is kind of attacking randomly.  It never gets personal for them.  The characters in a monster story are almost bystanders, swept up in the events and sometimes just left to watch from the sidelines.
Giant Evil stories
            In these stories the characters are usually pathetic pawns at best, helpless victims at worst (well, from their point of view).  Giant evil stories are close to monster stories in that the antagonistis just overwhelming.  There are two big differences, though.  One is there’s no way for characters to escape giant evil.  It’s everywhere.  Two is that giant evil rarely has a face.  It may have minions or manifestations, but often it isn’t something characters can “find,” if that makes sense.
            The characters in giant evil stories tend to be older and smarter.  They’re not hormone-crazed teens, but very educated adults with a bit of life-wisdom under their belts.  In my opinion, it’s because a large part of the horror here is realizing just how overwhelming the force against them is.  It’s something a younger character usually isn’t quite up to grasping because they don’t have as much of a world to overturn.
Thrillers
            Thrillers tend to focus on just one or two characters rather than a larger cast, so when people die they tend to be supporting characters or nameless folks in the background.  A thriller is about what could happen, not what does happen, so the big threats have to stay looming.  While characters in a thriller tend to be more active in a general sense, for the most part they’re reacting to the sinister plots and machinations going on around them.
Adventure Horror stories
            To paraphrase from Hellboy, adventure horror is where the good guys bump back.  While these stories may use a lot of tropes from the other subgenres, the key element to these stories is that the characters aren’t victims—they’re actively fighting back from the start.  Not in a dumb, facing-off-against-Jason-Voorhees-with-a-baseball-bat way, but in a heavily-armed-armored-and-prepared way that has a degree of success. 
            It can still go bad for them (and often does), but these characters get to inflict some damage and live to tell the tale.  For a while, anyway. 
Torture porn
            A key element to torture porn is the victim is almost always helpless.  By the time the characters know what’s going on (no matter how obvious it is to the reader) they’re already bound and drugged.  They’re completely alone or vastly outnumbered.  Unlike a slasher film (see above) there’s no question in these stories that the victim is not going to get away.  That hope isn’t here, because that’s not what these stories are about.
            Torture porn walks a delicate line with its characters.  If they’re bland and interchangeable, what happens to them is kind of meaningless.  When was the last time you shed a tear for that broken chair in your back alley?  However if we know these characters too well then their torture really does become truly unbearable and horrific to the point that it isn’t remotely entertaining.  We cheer when people get killed in the Saw movies, but not when they’re killed in Schindler’s List.
            I’ll also make the observation that characters tend to be one type or the other.  It’s very rare to see such a dramatic character shift that Phoebe goes from being the complete victim to completely kick-ass.  As has been said to death, the seeds are always there.  Ripley may not gear up until the end of Aliens, but there are plenty of reminders all through it that she’s just as capable and resilient as any of the Colonial Marines—including the fact that she’s the only survivor of the first movie.  When someone changes too much without any motivation they become inconsistent, and an inconsistent character’s a sure way to end up in that big pile on the left.
            So, dwell on these points while you’re munching on the ill-gotten gains you score while trick-or-treating with your candy beard.  Yeah, all of you with kids, you know what I’m talking about.
            Next time, I’ve been going back and forth about what I want to do.  I might just give a random quick tip.  Or maybe I’ll talk about going back and forth.
            Have a Happy Halloween.  Don’t forget to write.

Categories