Wednesday, 27 April 2016

Money for nuthin?

It's a crushing realization to face.  Most folk who write the cheques for creative talent projects are blind to quality.  Whether unable due to genetic damage or because they're wearing heavy blindfolds of dollar bills, they cannot differentiate between schlock and skill.  

Today, I can only cite the example of self-publishers who are as pleased as puppies with the book cover they've created, using the tools provided in their word processing software and images scrounged/stolen off the web.  An actual artist could create a more pleasing image by accidentally mashing a dog turd flat under his shoe…but artists cost MONEY.

And then…I spin once around in my chair and I’m wearing just such a blindfold.

I’ve spoken to professional editors.  One in particular is a friend and gave me his most cut-rate chum discount.  He’s charging the industry-guild standard and I can’t afford it, even discounted.  I can’t afford the lowest level of service, a thorough proofing for typos, grammar and general structure.  The next level involving plot and coherency and tone…might as well ask me for a kidney.  

Luckily, for that “typo level”, I have a squad of amateur folk who are skilled enough in such matters that they could go Pro, if so inclined.  For the higher, foggier, realm of structure, it is pretty much down to me trying to be objective.  I get enough positive feedback from fellow writers and layfolk to be confident I’m offering something well above a mashed dog turd, but I can’t help but gnaw my lip a bit.

How about you?  Have you snarled in frustration at being under-appreciated and underfunded for your creative talent?  Have you saved a buck by trying to be creative all on your own?


Sunday, 24 April 2016

Before you point out "plot hole"...

Whenever a critique starts with "plot holes you could drive a (big thing) thru", I wince.  And then maybe cringe. There may be a heartfelt sigh thrown in.

It's nearly certain the person making the challenge loses credibility in at least one of three ways:

1) Sharp and spikey ignorance of some facet of our world.
"They're based in New York and over the commercial break, they're suddenly in Boston! Sneer! How?" 
"They took an airplane." 
"A what?"
 "An airplane. A flying machine people use to travel." 
"Well, I never heard of an 'airplane'? How do they expect the average viewer to know such crazy things?"

2) Not actually paying attention to the plot.
"She picked up the phone and called the mayor directly. That's just silly!"
"She's the mayor's daughter." 
"What? When did they reveal that?" 
"In the first episode." 
"Well, they shouldn't be so obscure and make it clearer."

3) They really don't like the show, so are in no mood for granting leeway.
"How did they get across the city so fast in gridlock traffic? That's story-breaking unrealistic!" 
"The cop show you never miss does that every episode." 
"Yeah, well...the cop on that show is cute. This guy is ugly and has a funny moustache."

If all three of these situations can be honestly said not to apply, then we can talk “plot holes”.

(Amendment Clause:  Innocent confusion may prevail in some instances.  The original production might have had explanations of “airplanes” or “mayor’s daughters”, but we only saw the episode after some greedy editing job removed that scene in order to show us dancing rabbits selling toilet paper.)


Friday, 22 April 2016

Porn?

Did I just indulge in "clickbait" with that title? Maybe. Apologies if you've come looking for sexual content, because that's not the usage of the word "porn" I'm exploring here today.

In writing (and film), there is the "mainstream". Real people involved with real problems in the real world. On a personal note, this is often real boring.

Because I'm not alone in that somewhat facetious remark, the next level is "genre fiction". This is (real) people with (real) problems in the (real) world. In this case, substitute one of those (real) with "unreal". In good genre fiction, usually only one substitution is allowed. Exceptions can be made with a skilled writer at the keyboard.

Some of the breadth and depth of characterization or other storytelling requirements might suffer in service to the Unreal. Skilled writers can rise to the challenge and provide a balanced story even while catering to the fans who love the Unreal aspect. Mediocre writers put all their energies into the Unreal, leaving the Real aspects to languish. (and thus give the genre a rank odour to outsiders poking their nose in)

Below bad genre writing is Porn. This is where the Real aspects are lucky if they're included, and are pathetic cliches if present. All energies are focused on the Unreal, creating a wild imbalance of storytelling.

Today, I'm asserting that Porn needs an adjective. We're all familiar with sex-porn. (The real: "Pizza delivery!" "Come in while I get my purse. Oops, my bath towel slipped!"...and the ensuing 97% is the Unreal.) Another widespread example would be kung fu or martial arts porn. ("You are terrorizing my family and the neighbourhood!" "HAHAHA...yes I am. What are you going to do about it peasant?"...and the ensuing 97% is Unreal)

I've heard the recently blockbuster "The Martian" called "competence porn" (the book more than the movie). I'll agree with that. Yesterday I finished a book that could only be called "slacker-gamer addict porn", where flimsy cliches support a tale of these video game junkies rising to save the world with more panache and skill than a dozen round tables of noble knights.

Sometimes porn is what a person wants. Sometimes, all I eat for supper is a bag of cookies. An occasional indulgence is allowed, but it's the dark path to mental scurvy and the guilt crabs.


My point? I wish vendors, and maybe reviewers, would call a porn a porn. After my recent experience, don't tell me the story is an in-depth look into pizza delivery. Be honest and tell me it's mostly about naked people getting sweaty.