Pardon the light posting -- selling our house in Ottawa, bit of paperwork. What? MADNESS!! Abandon the New Orleans of the north? No, rest assured, once Ottawa's gotten its claws into you, it's like the grip of ... well, a tiny drunken lemur. We've just purchased another home there for, of course, a tiny, tiny fraction of the insanity one pays here in LA. ("It's a HOLE in the ground!" "It's a SHIT-FREE hole in the ground. $850,000.")
Two more years, and I'm out of LA and back in Canada writing comic books and gaming supplements. And relearning the true definition of the word "cold." ("... remember, at this temperature, your eyes will actually freeze in four and half minutes!")
Add to this the lovely wife and I will be travelling to Vegas for three days to hook up with my folks, and I will NOT be taking the laptop. So you'll have to fend for yourselves. I leave you with some eclectic links. When I return, I'll be answering some excellent writing questions, there'll be a brief discussion of the pilot process, and maybe even take a stab at answering a Comments question: "What the fuck DID go wrong on Catwoman?"
First off, I have no idea why he's in my Statcounter so much, but go check out The Groovy Age of Horror for retro 60's-70's horror love.
It's in the Blogroll, but I bet you never go to Alice's Wonderland enough. She's got a link to this discussion of the real-world economy linked to game economies, specifically a study done by E-Bay. This stuff is a doctorate waiting to happen. Or a Deadwood-like gold rush. I call dibs on being the Al Swearingen of World of Warcraft. ("And take this fucking hoople's corpse to Mr. Wu's down in Gnomeragan!")
Somebody who's actually looking at MMO's as social phenomena coould do worse than poking around in Terra Nova.
Patton Oswalt, fantastic comedian and all-around geek lord, presents the Marvel story he can never tell. An intimate understanding of the Hostess Fruit Pies ads is necessary, but luckily Seanbaby.com has a (terrifyingly) complete archive of them here.
How annoying am I as a geek? When I mentioned Patton's bit to my wife, she explained to me that she had no idea what I was talking about. She grew up in Canada, and so never saw the superhero/Hostess Fruit Pie ads. I was in such a geek-gasm, not only did I insist on plowing through with my recreation of Patton's parody, but I then spent several minutes explaining the Hostess Fruit Pie ads.
There are days, I have no idea why she doesn't kill me in my sleep.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Friday, May 13, 2005
Trust the Machine, Baby
I'm in the middle of Bruce Schneier's Beyond Fear. It's a really magnificent piece of work, one of the few almost-perfect "bridge" books. He conveys complex ideas about security in complex systems in a readily understandable manner, without ever compromising that this is a tricky, often counter-intuitive field..
He has an excellent essay on why voting machines are hinky as hell, and the very simple way to fix them. How simple? Two. Steps. And he makes one of my favorite points, one that ties into some things going on in the media distribution world - secrecy is not security.
He has an excellent essay on why voting machines are hinky as hell, and the very simple way to fix them. How simple? Two. Steps. And he makes one of my favorite points, one that ties into some things going on in the media distribution world - secrecy is not security.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Podcasting Galactica
I'm a big girl's blouse for the new Galactica. Even my lovely wife, who has zero tolerance for most television (to be fair, because it sucks) actually cheated on me with Tivo and watched backlogged eps while I was fighting a deadline.
(NOTE: well aware many of you don't understand the context of "cheat on me" in that sentence. The other Tivoids do. Oh yes.)
Ron Moore is doing podcasts on each episode, like little downloadable director's commentaries. But not, because in TV we writers are king, as IT SHOULD BE -- ahem.
Anyway, he's not charging for them, just plowing them out, keeping his fans interested and creating value-added to his show which is now in reruns. He's not going to let the little sci-fishies get distracted and wander away, no he's not. Mr. Moore understands -- in the new media, the fans are your friends, they are your allies, they are your proselytizers. They are not cows to be milked. They are the community, and they are in charge.
This, of course, is the complete opposite from the way most networks and studios are run, because the top-down is what keeps the people in charge in jobs. Do we need them? A few, yes. But even now, as I go to meeting after meeting, where we younger writers and execs realize that the nature of television is changing, that we're no longer bound to 22 episodes for the mass audience, that in fact other models are even more financially efficient, you hear the dreaded "Of course we have to shoot a pilot, that's the business we're in."
In an effort to avoid my notorious two-subjects-one-post habit, I'll leave it at that. Let's just say, I've been looking at the pilot process from a statistcal standpoint annnnd ... think monkeys, darts, a board with show names on them, and vodka-injected bananas.
That would be the better system.
(NOTE: well aware many of you don't understand the context of "cheat on me" in that sentence. The other Tivoids do. Oh yes.)
Ron Moore is doing podcasts on each episode, like little downloadable director's commentaries. But not, because in TV we writers are king, as IT SHOULD BE -- ahem.
Anyway, he's not charging for them, just plowing them out, keeping his fans interested and creating value-added to his show which is now in reruns. He's not going to let the little sci-fishies get distracted and wander away, no he's not. Mr. Moore understands -- in the new media, the fans are your friends, they are your allies, they are your proselytizers. They are not cows to be milked. They are the community, and they are in charge.
This, of course, is the complete opposite from the way most networks and studios are run, because the top-down is what keeps the people in charge in jobs. Do we need them? A few, yes. But even now, as I go to meeting after meeting, where we younger writers and execs realize that the nature of television is changing, that we're no longer bound to 22 episodes for the mass audience, that in fact other models are even more financially efficient, you hear the dreaded "Of course we have to shoot a pilot, that's the business we're in."
In an effort to avoid my notorious two-subjects-one-post habit, I'll leave it at that. Let's just say, I've been looking at the pilot process from a statistcal standpoint annnnd ... think monkeys, darts, a board with show names on them, and vodka-injected bananas.
That would be the better system.
"The Mouth of Madness?..."
"... it's over there, by the Food Court. No, no, past Captain Touchy-Touch's Pirate Kingdom of Tickles, near the Sleeping-Bag-for-Two Dispenser. Riiiiight." (via Boing Boing)
It makes sense, of course, that there'd be a map. But the kid in jammies as the logo -- that's the King in Yellow territory right there, folks.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Writing: Adaptation (Pt. 5)
The Rules of Adaptation
(adapted from an article for CHUD)
Rule 5: "This property already has millions of devoted fans!"
Rule 6: "... who HATE you."
I ruined it. I ruined it. I made all the wrong choices. That's not how the hero talks, that's the wrong part of the second book, who even cares about that character --
The point is, as we've discussed (in parts 1, 2, 3 and 4), that the sheer mechanics of Hollywood demand an enormous number of ideas, both original and adapted. The adapted properties come with some spiffy things -- ordinarily well-developed second acts, and a fan base which aids in its marketing -- and with some downfalls. Specifically, the fact that the movie already exists.
It exists in the fans' heads. That version cannot be beat. Except by Peter Jackson, but he plainly cut some sort of deal with the cinematic version of the Librarian from Gaiman's The Sandman, punched a hole into Moorcock's idea space and dragged forth each individual fan's fantasy, whereupon he burned the images onto film made from the souls of children who died because they hoped too much. So, exception that proves the rule, yada yada.
When doing an adaptation you have to settle for the fact that unless you really, really cross the strange attractor, you're going to be producing a reflection of the original material. It's even tougher if it's a property you actually love (as it should be). No, the best version is the special In-Skull Director's Cut, which clocks in at four hours and ... well, whatever the time is during red lights on the commute to work. However, what this version lacks is what makes art (and I'm hacking about above my pay grade, but coast with me for a moment) -- choice. Art is choice.
Maybe not for you, but for me. That's what a screenplay is, my friends, one gruelling choice after another, each image, each character fighting for the tiny bit of acreage on that precious whitespace. One of my favorite moments in film is in Wonder Boys, when Katie Holmes --
-- damn you Cruise, damn you monster will you LEAVE NOTHING CLEAN --
-- sorry, when Katie Holmes realizes that Michael Douglas' long awaited opus is a failure because he just couldn't make the choices necessary to elevate his scribblings from clever notes to a novel.
I recently faced this in a rewrite of a script DJ and I wrote three years ago. It's our damn story. We were getting to go back and rip out all the shitty Paramount notes. It should have been a long weekend at best.
But I knew this version will probably go out essentially unchanged to the studios. I knew each choice I made would be, in essence, final as far as my piece of art goes. And so I barely dragged myself through it, agonizing over each scene. Kicked my ass.
So when looking at an adaptation, do us (and yourself) a favor and engage it in its medium. Don't just curse the abridged plots, or the missed characters. Ask yourself why that choice was made. How you would have done it differently. Maybe that examination will lead you through the writer's process, (like studying old chess games) to a greater understanding of perhaps why it had to be that way, or at least why that was the choice that made the most sense. At the worst it'll add another wrench in your toolbox, knowing how to recognize a mistake. At best, you've advanced your understanding of your chosen field.
That's all I can contribute constructively to this topic. Hope you found it useful. As always, feel free to throw a question into the inbox. I'm never short hot air.
(adapted from an article for CHUD)
Rule 5: "This property already has millions of devoted fans!"
Rule 6: "... who HATE you."
I ruined it. I ruined it. I made all the wrong choices. That's not how the hero talks, that's the wrong part of the second book, who even cares about that character --
The point is, as we've discussed (in parts 1, 2, 3 and 4), that the sheer mechanics of Hollywood demand an enormous number of ideas, both original and adapted. The adapted properties come with some spiffy things -- ordinarily well-developed second acts, and a fan base which aids in its marketing -- and with some downfalls. Specifically, the fact that the movie already exists.
It exists in the fans' heads. That version cannot be beat. Except by Peter Jackson, but he plainly cut some sort of deal with the cinematic version of the Librarian from Gaiman's The Sandman, punched a hole into Moorcock's idea space and dragged forth each individual fan's fantasy, whereupon he burned the images onto film made from the souls of children who died because they hoped too much. So, exception that proves the rule, yada yada.
When doing an adaptation you have to settle for the fact that unless you really, really cross the strange attractor, you're going to be producing a reflection of the original material. It's even tougher if it's a property you actually love (as it should be). No, the best version is the special In-Skull Director's Cut, which clocks in at four hours and ... well, whatever the time is during red lights on the commute to work. However, what this version lacks is what makes art (and I'm hacking about above my pay grade, but coast with me for a moment) -- choice. Art is choice.
Maybe not for you, but for me. That's what a screenplay is, my friends, one gruelling choice after another, each image, each character fighting for the tiny bit of acreage on that precious whitespace. One of my favorite moments in film is in Wonder Boys, when Katie Holmes --
-- damn you Cruise, damn you monster will you LEAVE NOTHING CLEAN --
-- sorry, when Katie Holmes realizes that Michael Douglas' long awaited opus is a failure because he just couldn't make the choices necessary to elevate his scribblings from clever notes to a novel.
I recently faced this in a rewrite of a script DJ and I wrote three years ago. It's our damn story. We were getting to go back and rip out all the shitty Paramount notes. It should have been a long weekend at best.
But I knew this version will probably go out essentially unchanged to the studios. I knew each choice I made would be, in essence, final as far as my piece of art goes. And so I barely dragged myself through it, agonizing over each scene. Kicked my ass.
So when looking at an adaptation, do us (and yourself) a favor and engage it in its medium. Don't just curse the abridged plots, or the missed characters. Ask yourself why that choice was made. How you would have done it differently. Maybe that examination will lead you through the writer's process, (like studying old chess games) to a greater understanding of perhaps why it had to be that way, or at least why that was the choice that made the most sense. At the worst it'll add another wrench in your toolbox, knowing how to recognize a mistake. At best, you've advanced your understanding of your chosen field.
That's all I can contribute constructively to this topic. Hope you found it useful. As always, feel free to throw a question into the inbox. I'm never short hot air.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Light Posting
Dead on three different deadlines, possibly four after meeting some cunning bastards from Japan with a suitcase full of money. Will do another writing column tonight, then some media discussion about 4G Media tomorrow. Apologies all 'round for the brown-out.
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