Goodbye, Buffy, We Hardly Knew Ye

So there she is, Buffy Summers, standing at the edge of the crater where Sunnydale, California used to be and where it is no more. Supposedly, the Hellmouth closed forever. Or something.

And there I was, watching the last episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The last episode. No more. That’s when the depression started. It was over.
Now, I’ve watched other shows and the finales of other shows, but I gotta’ tell ya’, I’ve never felt so sad at the ending of a show before. I’ve felt cheated, like with Battlestar Galactica, and I’ve felt satisfied, go, Firefly, but when I watched the last Buffy episode, I felt desolate.

No more Buffy. No more Willow. No more Anya.

Anya was my favorite. I wanted one more episode to watch how the Scooby gang handled her death. I’ll never forget Anya’s reaction to everyone grieving over Buffy’s mother’s death. How she couldn’t understand it, couldn’t understand everyone’s sorrow.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I’m late to the party and Buffy’s last episode was almost ten years ago. Or something. Yeah. I’m late. And I’m stupid.

I tried to watch Buffy back in the 90’s, during its original run, but I couldn’t get into it. Season 1 was, um, iffy. Season 2 better, but not good enough. And if you try and come in midway, inscrutable. I had gay friends recommending it, and we all know all gay people have impeccable taste, but, well, I had Star Trek to watch.

Two huge lessons I’ve learned in life: listen to less Rush, more Prince. Watch more Buffy, less Star Trek. There.

So I kept getting slapped and beaten for not watching it. Seriously. Hit. “What–you haven’t watched Buff?” Smackola. So I knew I had to force myself to weather through the first couple of seasons. I did. And I am so glad.

Joss Whedon has genius, certainly, and we all either love him or hate him for it. I secretly want to eat his heart and brains, with onions, in hopes I can ingest some of that genius. The thing is, Joss Whedon can do conflict well, but his real brilliance is making us fall in love with his characters.

And I fell in love Buffy, Giles, Xander, the whole Scooby gang. And so, when the show ended, it was saying goodbye, a forever type of goodbye.

Sometimes I wonder if art and TV and novels are worth anything. If it’s all just a distraction from real life. Maybe to blind us from enlightenment.

But my life was richer for watching Buffy, gotta’ say.

Now, the spin-off, Angel? Um, I’ll post about that later.

I Go Zombie Apocalypse and Get Hardcore with DeAnna Knippling

I met DeAnna Knippling at Pikes Peak Writers Conference, we talked, I fell in love, we talked some more, my love grew, and then she agreed to take a peek at my writing. Well, let me tell you, my love faltered for a moment because she didn’t go goo-goo-ga-ga over my writing. She was honest and loving, brutal and insightful, and I still refer back to that critique. For a writer, that is a sure sign of love because yes, she was honest, but she was nice about it, and constructive and lovely. And little did I realize, I was being critiqued by a true champion of prose. DeAnna is playing the writing game hardcore. No, she’s not playing the game of writing—she’s going Hunger Games on it.

DeAnna is an editor, writer, e-publisher, warrior, queen. For her full bio, click here.

Her newest book, Alien Blue, is just out, and if you like aliens, and if you like beer, and if you like aliens who don’t like beer, this is the book for you.

I talked with DeAnna, and had to keep it to twenty minutes because if I didn’t, I would have moved in with her and her family. I’d live in the woodshed. They’d have to feed me slops like Wilbur in Charlotte’s Web. Here’s a little of what we talked about.

 

 

Aaron: Okay, DeAnna, I’m going to come clean. My interviews are part interview, part tell-all personal confessions. I’m coming out, right now, saying that I’ve never read a Terry Pratchett book. In your opinion, which Terry Pratchett book should I start with and why?

DeAnna: Aw, man, what? Okay, let me think. You, you should start with The Wee Free Men. One, because the Nac Mac Feegle have such a great method of stealing the wee beasties of the field (cows), don’t wear underpants, and misquote The Highlander on a regular basis. Two, because your daughter will love Tiffany and the way she uses her little brother as a booby trap. Bam! Right in the teeth. I had a great time sharing that with my daughter; you should try it with yours.

Aaron: Speaking of Terry Pratchett, when we talked, you quoted a passage about how shoeing a horse is like how you approach the writing game. Could you tell us a little bit about that?

DeAnna: The quote goes something like, “If you want to be able to shoe any horse, you have to shoe every horse.” With regards to Death’s horse losing a shoe in, um, Wyrd Sisters, I think. I am just not finding the exact quote, sad to say.

It really impressed me: if you want to be able to overcome any challenge, you have to overcome every challenge. I took that as my mandate as a writer, to throw myself at whatever challenges I come across without going, “Oh, I don’t like that challenge; I think I’ll wait for a better one to come along.”

So now I know that I can write 1000+ words an hour, write without my spell-checker on and have fewer typos, self-publish my work doing all steps from beginning to end, write a short story a week, finish a 90K novel and a 40K nonfiction book in one month, get over 150 rejections a year, etc., etc. Because I’ve been shoeing every horse.

Aaron: I always ask people I interview if there is something I should focus on. A book. An embarrassing moment. A controversial religious topic. You said interviewing an independent author versus a traditional author is different. How so?

DeAnna: A traditional author who is out to promote a book is out to promote a book. An indie author who is out to promote a book is just using the book release as an excuse to get out and network. Sure, we want you to buy our new book! It’s shiny and new, and we’re almost always in love with the shiny new book…until the next shiny new book comes along.

Traditionally-published paper books tend to disappear, unless they’re evergreen or part of a long-running series. You have to plan ahead so all the pieces come together at the exact moment your book is out, or it’s gone without a ripple in the river of new books being released.

Indie books (and pretty much all e-books)…they’re around for a while. There are no shelves for them to disappear off of. So it’s more important to build a network than it is to have a million press releases all come out at once. It’s more important to build relationships than to dominate the current book news.
So with indie writers? You can wander.

Aaron: So, books, books, books. You are so prolific! In your newest novel, Alien Blue, did you draw on your experiences growing up in South Dakota to create that book? Just curious because I hear people in South Dakota don’t drink beer. Is that true?

DeAnna: Alien Blue is set in New Mexico…but yeah, I did draw upon some South Dakota characters for the book, and I better not say who. But mostly they’re from Colorado, when I worked out at the Missile Defense Agency with all those hophead homebrewers. All the bad guys came from Colorado, so I really better not say who they are.

The sad thing about South Dakota and beer is not that they don’t drink beer, but that they’re just now starting to get into the craft beer movement. The Black Hills area has some excellent wineries (I recommend Prairie Berry), but beer? They’re just barely starting to suspect that Coors isn’t the beginning and end of all beers.

Aaron: DeAnna, another personal confession. Your signing for Choose Your Doom: Zombie Apocalypse was the first official book signing I’d ever been to. My daughter loves that book! It’s a choose-your-own adventure book with ZERO happy endings. What was the best part of your Zombie Apocalypse experience? Did you get any brains on your boots?

DeAnna: Heh. That was my first signing, too. I mean, where I signed books! The best part of the experience was going, “Oh, well, I can’t write that; it’s too silly,” then saying Pffft! and writing it anyway. “What is the craziest, most ridiculous, off-the-wall thing that could possibly happen here?” The second-best part was the signings. I love it when kids come up to me and ask me how to be a writer. And I did not give them artsy-fartsy advice, either. It can be done, no matter what guff the adults give you.

Incidentally, I didn’t get any brains on my boots, but I did get some recipes for brains from my mom. I mean, she doesn’t come across as a zombie, but you never know.

Aaron: Yes, folks, I’m telling you, DeAnna is a machine! She has a book coming out on formatting your own e-print books. DeAnna, can you give us a little peek into the magic? How anal do you have to be to format an e-print book? On a scale of 1-10 – 1 being Jack Black in School of Rock and 10 being Rupert Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer?

DeAnna: If you want to edit your own e-books, you have to be Nigel Tufnel from Spinal Tap and turn it up to eleven.

Formatting? You can be sloppy; you can be super anal. I set the E-books 101: Beginning Formatting Guide at about a six, or just enough to get by so you don’t get embarrassed later, when you’re a pro at it. “Eh, I could go back and turn those beginner .doc-based files into XHTML and convert using blah blah blah like I did the rest of my stuff, but really, they’re fiiiiiiiine.”

Who’s a six? Count Rugen from The Princess Bride. “Get some rest. If you haven’t got your health, then you haven’t got anything.” Count Rugen. He was an experimenter. He had fun. Now, if he could just stop being cheap about his cover art weaponry.

Aaron: Awhile back, one of your short stories got an honorable mention. Can you give us the details and describe how it helped you physically, spiritually, psychically?

DeAnna: I got an honorable mention in The Year’s Best Horror, Vol. 3, edited by Ellen Datlow. My name was over by Stephen King’s.  I was literally dizzy. The story was, “The Edge of the World” in [the e-zine] Three-Lobed Burning Eye. That was a South Dakota fairies story—they are dark, dark, dark, and this one was no exception.

I was shocked that anyone wanted to buy it. It’s either a story about recovering from abuse by being forced to step into the same role the abuser had (among the fairies; as I said, dark), or a story about being so wrapped up in your own damage that you miss the fact that other people are self-destructing around you. There was just nothing positive about that story. To have TLBE buy it, then get an honorable mention for it? That was just messed up.

But. It made me back up and say, “You can write,” and “You may not be able to trust your instincts on what other people like.” I’m all cocky about it now, although at the time I felt like I was a complete fake.

Aaron: Okay, since in your Choose Your Doom: Zombie Apocalypse book, there are no happy endings, let’s end this interview bleak. This is kinda’ personal, but when we talked, you said some days are harder than others being a writer. What are some of the dark thoughts you have about yourself, the world, and the writing game? How do you combat those thoughts? Me? I never have any doubts and when I walk outside, bluebirds twitter around me and butterfly fairies land on my fingers. But I hear other writers have issues. What are some of yours?
Riiiiiiight. Bluebirds.

DeAnna: Basically, in order to be a writer, you have to do things that simulate brain damage. For one, you have to write from the creative side of your brain without letting the critical/editor side step in: which is just about like cutting the connection between the lobes of your brain. And then you have to create temporary sub-personalities and run them simultaneously—multiple personality disorder. And if that’s not enough, there’s the disassociation you have to have from external reality—kids, let’s do fun and games with schizophrenia!

Transitioning back and forth from temporary mental illness is going to cause you some issues. Unless you really are crazy.

When I go deep, my conscious brain panics, because the creative half of it is no longer accessible or controllable. When I write, I see, hear, smell, taste, and feel things that don’t actually exist. My thoughts are not my own. My body is not my own. I am not at my desk, typing. I am somewhere else.

The creative side has to be literally, controllably crazy in order to work right, and all the defense mechanisms our species has built against mental illness kick in: I’m crazy, I’m stupid, I’m wasting my time, I’m delusional, none of this will ever work, what was I thinking, etc. My brain tries to save me from itself every time, which is probably a good thing, on the whole, but it’s unpleasant, to say the least.

It’s the job.

Aaron, you’re a nut, and this was fun…but if I ever find you out in my shed eating slops, I am going to lock the cat in with you during squishy food time. You don’t want to be around him when it’s squishy food time…and you’re the squishiest thing around. You know that scene in Kung Fu Hustle where the chick cracks her knuckles? Like that.

 

 

DeAnna’s Amazon author page
DeAnna at Barnes and Noble
DeAnna on twitter
On Goodreads

I Had Dinner With John Carter and It Was Just Perfect

I saw the movie, John Carter, and while I went in afraid it was going to suck like a Hoover-demon, I left overjoyed.

They got it right. I can’t imagine another movie so lovingly done, so respectful of Edgar Rice Burroughs, and so faithful to the world of Barsoom. Maybe not to the actual books, but to the spirit behind the books. The vision.

Keep something in mind. I loved Peter Jackson’s The Fellowship of the Ring. However, he lost me in The Two Towers, because Sam, Frodo and Smeagol were about to sit down to eat a supper of rabbit and taters, and they were interrupted. No. You have to have them eating the rabbit and the taters. Or it all doesn’t work.

So I am very sensitive about books being translated into movies. And I knew Hollywood was going to try and kill my beloved John Carter. I grew up on Barsoom books, ever since I was an eight-year-old, and I’d get in trouble for bringing the books to school because in my editions, they had half-naked women on the cover. Drawn wonderfully by Michael Whelan.

It was worth the trouble. I adored Dejah Thoris and Thuvia, Maid of Mars. I dreamed of sleeping in the towers of Helium on my dais of silks and furs. To fly across the dying world, a radium pistol at my side, a long sword, short sword, and dagger on my harness.
So I figured the John Carter movie was going to be a lot of fighting, and no rabbits and taters for supper. Then I heard Andrew Stanton was going to help write and direct, and that guy, that guy brought us Wall-E. Which I still can’t talk about without getting weepy.

“Wall-E!“

“Eva!”

Me. Crying.

 

 

I went with hope in my heart, but fear in my wallet. And guess what?  Taters were roasted. Rabbits were eaten.  The movie was wholly and completely satisfying.

Now, I haven’t read all the reviews. And I don’t know what the zeitgeist is on the movie, but I will give you my opinion. And forgive me, ERB, forgive me, but I liked the movie better than the book. I know, I know. But hey, in the movie, Dejah Thoris is a real woman, with strengths and weaknesses. And John Carter? He’s not a cookie-cutter-white-guy-hero coming to save the day. In Andrew Stanton’s story, John Carter is a good man with a troubled soul who has a character arc, who changes, who is heroic, but that heroism came at an awful price.

And dude, they had McNulty from The Wire as the bad guy. Right there, that raises this movie up to the heavens. And don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, Willem Dafoe as Tars Tarkas.

“Virgina!”

I laughed. I cried. I loved me some Woola and Sola. And the baby Tharks. I wanna wake up with baby Tharks crawling all over me. Better than puppies. Well, prolly not. But the movie did a great job bringing the Tharks, men, women, and children, to life.

Yes, there were some minor problems. I mean, the swords were wrong. Look at the Michael Whelan covers for how Barsoomian weaponry looks. Long swords, short swords, and daggers. Not curved. Not alien. They should look like how Michael Whelan drew them and how I imagined them for decades.

And the motivation of the Therns was kinda iffy. I mean, part of me dug it—they had that vibe of The X-Files’ smoking man but with more tech and less Camel cigarettes. I also needed a little more of why Dejah Thoris thought Barsoom would be destroyed if she got married. And the opening nearly threw me off the horse. Until we got back to the Arizona Territory. Then, it was magic. Pure, magical storytelling.

I felt young again. As when the world was new. And I was eight years old, and my dad’s friend gave me books that changed his life, and would change mine. All written by Edgar Rice Burroughs.

In the movie, I cried when I was supposed to cry. I laughed when I was supposed to laugh. I felt hopeful for John Carter, I hated the villains, I loved the heroine.

Bottom line, the movie hooked me, and it’s getting harder and harder to get to my old, jaded heart. Especially with some big, dumb, 3D action movie. This worked for me.

And I hope ERB is looking down from heaven with approval. Because the way the movie treated him was just right. So full of respect, and honor, and love.

I plan on going to see it a second time with my daughter. To pass along the legacy. Because this movie truly feels like the torch of Barsoom is being passed to another generation who will ride their thoats across the empty seas under a Martian sky, looking for adventure, love, and a better world.