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I have had it with these motherfuckin projects in this motherfuckin school. That is all.
I am quite for projects. I do not mind them in the least when I have one or two at a time. But when every class one has is assigning these big honkin projects and one begins longing for bookwork, worksheets, and notes, I feel something might be amiss. I cannot design 3 page layouts, 34 thumbnails for 2 different projects while re-designing a 3rd and 4th, study the mating habits of college co-eds, and retain sanity. I just can't.
Also, this is interfering with my writing time. Bad enough to deny me the luxury of theater, movies, dancing, drinking, socializing, and otherwise enjoying my youth, now the professors conspire to deny my the closeted-in-the-room with a notebook and a laptop time. The voices in my head The characters are going away! My punctuation and grammar is going straight to the land of Laurell Hamilton. I'm getting out of practice. I'm losing my ability. I'll be reduced to painful Stus and angsty Sues if they keep this up...Worse, they'll be ill-presented by awkward text. Sob.
School is ruining my future career, I tell you. Which just goes to show I should have majored in something that involved writing. Or Recreation. ... Really, I suddenly cannot fathom why I am not studying Recreation. ... That's it. I'm giving up school and forming a cult... It shall be a cult of... flowers. And writing. Painting. Poetry. We shall be hippies. But not the murderous Manson kind. And we so are not being socialists because poison kool-aide is so 1970s. And I am not dying for a cosmic ride on a comet ship.
Damnation. I shall make a very bad cult leader. Perhaps I should call it a commune leader? A nice tropical island, lots of rum and poetry and writing, and everyone dressed like pirates and hippies. ... I suppose I ought to throw in some nice nature worship and dolphins as divine messengers...
But our downfall will be the fact that everyone can only be a nancing hippie pirate poet/writer/singer/artist boehemian for so long before you all go mad and join the corporate world. We'd be 1982 all over again. ... With shoulderpads even.
I'm random. I know this. Now back to Mirrormask...
I exaggerate. A little.
It was still a pretty good Christmas gift-wise. All of them. Thankfully Dad's was far more casual. He listened to the much-edited outline I gave of Mom's family and suggested pumpkin pie afterward. Dad is far more perceptive than people give him credit for.
I cannot state enough how happy I am that it's all over, almost. There's still late Christmas-ing to do, gifts arriving late, etc.
I hope everyone else had a merry Christmas and got everything they asked for. I certainly did, with one exception. Alas, I am still not adopted.
Drop it. Drop it right now. Drop it like it's a radioactive device. You are killing Narnia canon, and you are eviscerating the Crossover Canon.
Did you forget about Prince Caspian? The Dawn Treader? The Silver Chair? Have you ever heard of them?
And further, I don't know if you noticed or not, but you've turned all four Pevensies into the biggest bunch of Sues I've ever seen (outside a 10th+ walker fic in the LotR section). I mean, I know they have their urple leanings in canon, but for the love of Aslan... Eternal youth? Immortality? Immune to Magic? Sueper Speshul Faith? Making Albus Dumbledore a bumbling, inconsiderate dolt? Taking every brave moment of Harry Potter, the Trio, and the Marauders away from them?
Dont' get me wrong. There's good points. Character development of Draco rocks. A few others too. But... you have FOUR SUES with the universe revolving on them, characters going ooc to accomodate it, entire massive subplots being abandoned with no reason, and only your Sues are allowed to be heroic. I'm all for the Pevensies having a role in Hogwarts. They can save Sirius. They can kill Fenrir. They can heal stuff, and be pretty and witty and just. But when you try to tell me that Harry obeys them without question, Edmund can turn everyone from the dark, Albus is making a bazillion mistakes that Peter can point out with a wave of his sword... Lucy you did well with. ... Susan is no more annoying than she is canonically. But the boys?? STU
I really ought to write something, anying for my novel. Or the short story. Or the I-don't-know-if-it's-a-book-or-a-story thing.
All my muse wants to talk about is fan fiction. More specifically short, short scene fiction. But the rest of me doesn't want to do this.
Argh.
In other news. I created
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fanmoot for A Song of Ice And Fire fans. A small place where people can talk about ASOIAF. Because it really needs more fandom action and I loathe message boards. I had a strange dream about tornadoes picking up my house and moving it. With me inside, mind you. But when I opened the door and walked out, it had landed in Illinois. But Illinois with Regency people (like we're talking Harlequin Regency Romance here, people).
Why even thinking of it gives me the vapours. Do excuse me, dear reader, whilst I sit lightly upon the couch to recover myself. ACK. I now know that I would go batty insane in the Regency era. Unless of course there was a suitably hot Mr Darcy involved to improve matters.
Stephanie: *is dippy*
Ranger: *is hawt*
Morelli: *is hot*
Stephanie: *is sooo confused*
Shit: *goes down*
Stephanie's family: *is zany*
Mystery: *is madcap*
Cars: *go 'splodey*
Stephanie: *is lost*
Morelli: *is annoyed*
Villain: *is dumb/obsessed with Stephanie*
Ranger: *is badass*
Stephanie: *is saved*
Ranger: *is reaaaallly freakin' hawt*
There. You have now read Every Single Book.
Vanity: *just picked up Book 11 in book store. skimmed book. realized she had read better fan fiction. put book down*
Things that would make the Plumverse interesting again:
- Stephanie actually made a decision. About anything. And stuck to it for longer than five minutes.
- Joe dumped Stephanie. And meant it.
- Ranger stopped answering Stephanie's calls. And meant it.
- There was a villain with brains.
- Stephanie didn't have Ranger, Joe, or a family member or deus ex machina to save her.
- Someone actually changed/grew up/got a job/got clean/moved on/moved away. Just once.
- Stephanie got a clue and some survival instincts.
Sadly, I know none of those will ever happen. That's why I have new fandoms. But I don't think I'll ever quit pining for my fandoms of what-could-have-been. Stephanie actually stepping up to the plate and getting a backbone will be one of my happiest what-if scenarios. Right up there with someone taking Laurell Hamilton's smut-pen away from her and making her focus on the Sidhe politics in the Gentry series.
Ooh, and I just started a manga. I know. I KNOW! A manga. It's called The Vampire game, by Judal... and I think I'm in love. Eeee! New fluffy obsession!
amusedOkay, so there is a dwarf, named Tyrion, and I heart the little bastard so very much.
The characters are complicated, the plots are twice as complicated as the characters, and the books are massive. Plus there's this wonderful, horrible habit of Martin's that forces him to cause his characters lots of misery and often kill those they love (even when those they love are themselves major characters). I can think of many authors who could learn a thing or two about emotional involvement and suspension of disbelief from Martin. (Yes, Laurell K Hamilton I am looking at you. These books are the kinds of real politik I would expect from ageless Sidhe and vampire nobles, not the sex-fu Mary Sue that you've turned your series into... )
I've already ordered the next book in the series. I am in love and lust and I must have my fix. It's taking all my resolution not to run into our bookstore and grab number four to read up on what's happened. I can't do that, I'm sure, because I'd probably be entirely lost.... but... omgwtf5kings?!! Dude. And I was impressed with the 4 armies battling it out in The Hobbit. To hell with that. I want five separate kinds and then the queen that they're not taking notice of yet...
What amazes me is that Martin can take female points of view and nail them. I can usually tell clearly when it's a guy writing a girl's headspace but.. .he... seriously... these girls.. .think like girls. Amazing. I am imagining he has a wife and/or daughter reading over stuff to go "Good, but now about this bit... are you kidding me?" Okay, so with Arya and Sansa I kept thinking they were a couple years older but then kids in that world would grow up faster. And Dany? I have to admit to a couple times of forgetting that she was a freaking 13-year-old. But again. In her situation you'd have to grow up or die.
Damn it. I need someone I know to read this thing so that I can be a proper little fannit and squee myself silly.
amusedExcept in this one it's Sarah and Antonio who meet by the sea and he tells her the story about a prince and a princess, and it was a very beautifully colored and well-put-together dream that I was thoroughly enjoying... Sarah takes a ring and Antonio takes a ring and Sarah did a beautiful leap to tell the dolphins their answer was emphatically "yes."
Sarah's mother and Antonio were flirting and then Sarah's voice over was going and said something about tequila... her mother and Antonio were both obviously drunk and playing in the sea. I couldn't tell if Sarah's mom would be the one to walk into the sea and ino the arms of the sea prince or if there was a sea princess and Antonio would go with her... And just at the point where it was obvious someone was about to wander into the sea never to return... my freaking alarm went off.
There was a girl with swirling hair before I woke up though so I think Antonio was about to see her and take the ring off his necklace and go to her.
Then when Sarah was older she'd walk into the sea and they'd all live fairytale lives at the bottom of the ocean. I know there are ways that the dream would've made a great deal more sense- like if her mom was already dead and he was telling her the story to make her feel better or if she'd use the story to explain her mother's death or Antonio's death.... But it was a good dream and it angers me greatly that I couldn't get back to it. Stupid alarm.
There were several other dreams but none of them were as pretty.
Yeah, I use Vanity or Disdain. I have an identity crisis. And an ego. But at least my eyes are not yet urple.
So, I should totally be off studying for my mid term. ... But I'm not feeling it. Instead I'm typing useless stuff in my fandom-ranting blog about real life stuff. Why? Because I can.
So, this weekend is nuts. It's Homecoming. Our football deam is doing awesomely so the parties are intense. They kick off tomorrow (Thursday) actually. I'll be in my mid-term then running home, changing and going out to bar hop. And I cannot decide what to wear!
All right.. do I wear:
A) a miniskirt, boots, a sleeveless/halter top? (mind you, it's pretty chilly this week)
B) Jeans, strappy sandals, halter top?
C) a miniskirt, this cute light sweater thing, and boots or sandals?
And my hair! Do I wear it straight? Tousled and wavy?
Makeup! Smoky eyes? Wine-stained lips? Aaahh! Choices!
I have to have 3 nights of party clothes planned.
Thursday: Mid-Term. Dance-Floor Bar. Who knows where else?
Friday: Sleep in. Study maybe. Marie Antoinette (with alcohol because our movie theater rocks like that). Party. Possibly bars. Anything goes.
Saturday: Alcoholic Breakfast Ritual (don't ask). Game. Party. Bars. Who knows what else?
Sunday: Recouperate. Study for large test that's on Monday Morning because my teacher is evil.
Oh, and let's add dramatic interest: in aforfementioned schedule I won't be in my room at all because the roomate will be having male company and I don't want to deal with that. So I'll be staying Elsewhere. Possibly at the apartment of the Guy Friends (one of whom is wanting to 'go on a date'... holy handgrenades of Antioch, please let it be phase... )
And of course, the End-of-Summer Fling called and talked and he "might come up" for it. And could I get a ticket for him? Um.. it's already sold out... But sure. Why not? Except of course that that will mean um.. oh who cares? I'll let him have my bed. In the room with the roommate and her boy. heh. He's cool and about 700 times bigger than RM's Significant Other.
Then there's the Friend Who's Taken and Looks Eerily Like My Ex but who I keep flirting with and hell if I can stop. Seriously. I am trying desperately not to and it's almost working and then it doesn't. But oh well. He's a flirt. And it's purely eye and conversation flirting. So I guess it's okay so long as no one gets drunk and stupid. ...
I just have to remember for the entire weekend: Don't Kiss Anyone out of Boredom. Just grab some more alcohol. Or go dance on the bar like a normal girl.
No. Seriously. I have this problem. I am drinking. We're partying. More alcohol flows. And then the conversation is boring or the music sucks or everyone decides let's leave the club and go somewhere quiet... and I HATE THAT. I have the attention span of a crack-addicted ADHD may fly when I'm drunk. I can't follow some stupid movie plot. And people just -sit there- when we could be up dancing and.. and... they're just sitting there! There are parties somewhere! Worlds to conquor! Men to seduce! Hell, women to seduce! Adventures to be had! ... oh screw it. And I start making out with someone. Because it's moderately more entertaining than grabbing another drink.
Sigh.
So I have no idea where I was going with this. And I'm sure you think I'm some OC type now. ... Really life isn't this party-tastic in general. Just some days. And what really sucks? Is that Sunday, hung over as all hell, I'm going to have to sort out my D&D character for a friends' new game.
The movie trailers can be found here.
Pringles Commercial-esque song
Envy: Those hard hats are the gayest things I have ever seen.
Vanity: Dude, the gayest Queens in San Francisco are like "We had nothing to do with those hard hats."
Evanescence+Backstreet Boys+Dirrty music video
Powder can shake it like a Polaroid!
The movie itself is awesomely hilarious. Random English, gongs to tell you when some plot point has been found... and it's almost all available on YouTube in 10 minute chunks.
amused"Bear draws as well from the Anita Blake and Meredith Gentry books of Laurell K. Hamilton, especially in the character of Keith, the ambivalent werewolf prince, and in her depictions of life at the Faerie courts, but without the lush eroticism that briefly distinguished Hamilton's work before she slipped into self-parody."
- Paul Witclover, Sci Fi Weekly.
Ain't that the truth?
11 Bad-Good Horror Movies You Need to See
Antonio Banderas and Sarah Brightman singing Phantom of the Opera .... God, my fangirly squees may never end. Just... Banderas.. voice... Erik... *whimpersobsqueeswoon*
And... Everyone's Angst Should Come with Back-up Dancers. Yes. Bollywood got its mits on Powder. And they thought: "Hey, this is good! But it could be so much better with some dance numbers!" ... In some strange, twisted way, I find myself intrigued. Someone hit me. (link to be added later bcause I've lost it)
We just watched the Single Worst Waste of a DVD in the history of mankind. No, not Alexander. Worse. The Black Dahlia. It was obviously made by people who usually make bad Cinemax porn, but they inserted stupidly weird murder scenes in place of porn. Sadly they attempted dialogue. The art of Writing is probably still off crying in a corner.
However, I was surprised by Prairie Home Companion. I expected to be bored stiff by that movie and found myself moved to tears. Perhaps it was just hormones, but afterward all I could think about was how much I suddenly missed Hee Haw, RC cola, dusty gravel roads and my grandma. And how much I wanted to be living in a world like that one- one where angels might wander around the edges in white trench coats and ask silly questions and give advice.
I really don't have any wanky fandom moments to complain of just yet. ... I did try to re-read Cerulean Sins by Laurell K Hamilton, though. ... I want to beat that woman so badly. Just take her manuscripts and hard covers and throw them at her. She has such potential in that universe (sometimes), but she just throws it away for badly-written sex and angst! ARGH.
Alas, my wank-time is taken up by real life issues lately. Like boys. Dating. Jealous girls. Because, I swear to 'diety' that my eyes are turning purple. If my life gets any more like a bad Mary Sue I'll be tumbling into Middle Earth to seduce elves at any moment. Or going to St. Louis to sleep with monsters/faeries. Whatever. Then I shall be forced to shoot myself. ... Right after I find out what Legolas is like in bed, of course. ... What? Fine. Okay. I admit it. Elladan&Elrohir. Shut up. Right now.
Oooh, and guess what?! I have a new thing to fangirl! The Tudors! Showtime is making a series about the young Henry VIII!!!! SQUEE. The costumes and casting look amazing. My inner history geek is giddy. Between The Tudors and Rome, I may die of historical squee.
Once Upon a Time was the first non-Harlequin romance novel I ever read. As a 12-year-old I was utterly amazed at the prettiness of this book, the people in it, and yeah, the sex. It is about Lady Amethyst Danton (she has a brother named Garnet and even at 12 I thought he should've shot their parents), who kind of stumbles into the faery realms by falling asleep in a fairy ring and meets the King of the Tuatha De Danann, Comlan. He's slightly bitter about humans because a few centuries back his sister fell in love with one and gave up her immortality to marry... Actually his whole family is suspiciously like a bad fan-fic version of the Peredhel. He has a younger (possibly twin, but it's never mentioned) brother, and then the much-beloved and much-mourned beautiful younger sister, oh and a Powerful Grandma who he inherited the throne from. No mention of parents, who I assume went where every Fairytale Parent goes: Land of Deadness.
The fairy ring was formed when Lissan let go of her immortality and is now all that remains of her. Emo!
Anyway, Amy wakes up to find it's a dream and then she sees him back in London because he's in Human World on business (there's a kind of nifty family connection- Amy's great-aunt is sort of Comlan's charge/ward thing...).
And she's brunette and gorgeous and he's blond and sexy and everyone is drooling over them both, except she doesn't notice this because she's insecure about being brunette when everyone knows blondes are in. Seriously, I never knew that having the wrong hair color was so OMG so awful. I mean, she's lithe/winsome/porcelain-skinned/graceful/e
Okay, so as a romance novel and such, it isn't bad. It's not jaw-dropping wonderous like my 12-year-old self perceived, but it's not bad... until the end. I must say that the solution the author came up with to make a happy-ever-after... yeah. TEH lamez. Either Comlan's kid sister wasn't the brightest faery in the land or someone forced the writer to tack that ending on. Because I will not believe that anyone canny enough to land a publishing contract would tack that kind of dumb ending onto a perfectly acceptable if somewhat rote tale. Maybe
No, what really annoyed me about this book is when I picked up the sequels, which I had laying around and didn't remember much about. I must have blocked them out of my memory. I wish they were still blocked.
The first sequel, Happily Ever After, is about Comlan and Amy's kid Lissan (named for Comlan's lost sister). Now, this is not bad as a stand-alone. You'd just have to have somewhat of a back story to start with, and it would work. She goes traipsing counter-clockwise around Ye Olde Fairy Ring of Lissan I, and falls through time instead of into Faery Land because if you fall asleep in the Ring you get to Faery but if you walk around it counter-clockwise it turns into a time-turner... FairyRingTimeMachine! ...
Of course it drops her into the middle of some medieval battle, where she promptly gets slaughtered by a broadsword. Well, she would have except the magickal faery amulet Amy pinned on Lissan (just before going off to do the Faery Ring Time Warp) keeps her from getting butchered. Somehow, one girl not getting kebobed attracts the attention of a full army mid-combat...and before you know it people are going on about the White Witch and the Lord of the Manor gets cranky. Poor Lissan, all she wanted to to was find her parents. But they're off doing the Time Warp again...
What annoyed me on this one was that Comlan and Amy apparently got personality transplants when they got back to Faery Land. And not for the better. But, you know, parenting can change people and I'm sure once more being the King of Everything can have adverse ego effects... Oh and Lissan 2. She annoys me as well. Comlan, thy kidlet is a brat. Just cause she looks like your dead sister doesn't mean you have to let her be Cordelia Chase in a corset. Where went the Comlan from the last book? The Comlan who would have taken one look at his daughter standing in the middle of some god-forsaken medieval daub hut landscape and thrown a terrifying fit before grabbing her by the scruff of the neck and hauling her off to Faeryland. Or 19th Century London. Or wherever. Nope. We have Pod!Comlan who goes "Oh fine, dear, stay and play in the mud, but I'm NOT telling your mother. Try not to catch the Plague. Toodles."
Then came the second sequel, Long Ago and Far Away. The personality-swaps continue. This time it's Lissan II and Rory. The book is about his illegitimate-kid-who-isn't-his-but-he-is-n
And because she's somehow descended from Lissan1, Comlan took an interest in her. Perhaps thinking that since Lissan2 was a dead loss maybe this one would be a good replacement. She got a nifty pet fox and a faery guardian Kieran, who is a registered hottie. Kieran is sworn to protect her and therefore totally not allowed to fall in love with her. Anybody care to guess where this one goes? Yep. Cue Danger-To-Faeryworld! and Danger-To-Human-World! And throw in some ancient grudges for good measure, and only Hildie can save the day. Because she's 1/111003432th Tuatha, or something.
Now, again, this one is not awful. Kinda simplistic and a little sappy, with occasional outright stupidity, but not horrid. ...
At least, it isn't until somewhere 2/3 through the book. And then ALL traces of editing disappear. Typos abound. Not only small ones, either. I can handle a mixed up letter or some iffy punctuation. No, we're talking about full-out typos. For a page, while they're lost in caves in FaeryWorld, Kieran and the narrative refer to Hildie as Lissan. Thankfully they aren't having sex at that point, but still.
Then there's another point where she calls him Rory. Or someone does. I don't know. Names start getting so mixed up that by this time I was lost as to who was actually who.
There was a lot of potential with the idea of a faery clan and human involvement and half-faeries and time travel. sigh. Too bad someone couldn't have proof read it. It's a further shame that the characters couldn't be recognizable from one book to the next. Maybe someone else will like it, but as for me, I'm staying far away from any other series by Marylyle. She has talent- I still like Comlan. He was fun.
I'm mildly curious about reading the story of Lissan someday, but I doubt I ever will. For one thing, having read Comlan and Amy's story, it will probably all just make my brain hurt. Sigh. Besides, in the end? She dies. And her brothers get bitter. And then one falls for a human and finds a way to live with her forever all young and happily ever after. And Lissan got old and died and didn't have to, just because she didn't think for five minutes longer. And no one thinks to time-turn far enough back to tell her how to do it. There' s love for ya.
I just realized this while replying to someone in lkh_lashouts, but I do have a major problem with the main characters in chick lit. They're just generally all quite stupid. Now, I have read a couple chick books with heroines I liked, or could identify with, but... why must they all be so dumb??! Is it just art imitating art because there are so many stupid people in everyday life so it follows that in fiction life there would be an equal proportion of dumb characters?
Stephanie Plum: Ow. Early Stephanie Plum books don't have such an obviously dumb herione, but her dimness shows up through repitition. How many times do you have to get beaten, shot, kidnapped, brutalized and/or nearly raped before you enroll in a self-defense class? How many times before you learn to carry some kind of weapon and use it proficiently? How many books can you cheat on your boyfriend in a town of dedicated gossips before he finds out about it?
Not-Stephanie-Plum female mystery series: picked up several books of this description. Fail to remember any of them. Also failed to make it through any of them. All looked/sounded/read far too much like Stephanie, but dumber.
Metro Girl: See above. Some friends and I actually MST3000'ed the first couple chapters just to save our own sanity.
Anita Blake: Urgh. We all know where this story went, and where the author's sanity has gone 'Diety' alone knows.
Undead and Unwed: Betsy makes my head hurt. I'm okay with fluff ball heroines who are out of their depth, but it's nice if they have a brain with which to learn and/or think through things. Her ignorance tends to get a tad grating, as does her sheer airheadedness. Would it be so bad to have an airhead with some kind of thought ability? Also... the love interest vampire who is supposed to be all scheming and makes me think of a bad, bad Jean-Claude rip-off, HAS to be up to something. Or at least, if this series had an actual edge to it he would be. But something makes me think he's just going to be an adoring, occasionally sulky puppy. This series is so irritating to me, because it comes so close sometimes, and then loses it.
Southern Vampire: Better than the rest, anyway. Sookie isn't educated but she doesn't come off as stupid like Betsy. She is intelligent, she does figure things out and thinks about serious matters rather than lying/omitting/denying (like Stephanie Plum/MetroGirl). She isn't a complete in-your-face prude like early!Anita, or a complete in-your-face uberslut like later!Anita. However, she does seem to have an increasing ability to have the attention of every man in a 3 county radius, so... it may get dicey. And I can't seem to work up the enthusiasm for this series that I have for others.
Shopaholic: Urgh.
Gossip Girl: Okay, more teen chick lit. But for a mindless summer beach read, it works. Painfully shallow, the book equivalent of a tabloid, and all about shallow gossip. Yet I read them, and I cannot tell you why. Maybe it's the part-blog, part-confessional thing? Whatever it is, I buy one, I read it, I go six months telling myself not to buy them, and then I buy another... eesh. Subliminal marketing perhaps? But the friendships are interesting. Faults, bitchiness, and back-stabbing, with moments of actual sentiment. You just kind of have to go... "Huh."
"If you want to cry, you're not going to like my books," she says briskly. "If you want a really good plot, you're not going to like my plots. My books have pizza and cussing and sexy guys." Evanovich, 63, can't recall the last time she herself read a literary novel, though she'll happily talk about the Donald Duck compics piled up in her house in Naples, Fla (one of three homes), her NASCAR obsession, or her belief that no one should have to struggle to read a book ("I don't want my readers slowed down by long passages of narrative").
... cutting out her not-so-inspirational inspiration and rise to corporate legend...
As for anyone who wants to knock her focus on the middlebrow reader, forget it. Janet Evanovich doesn't have time for such pretensions. She's found her formula and damned if she'll stray. "I don't want to go beyond their comfort zone," she says of her readers. "I'm their feel-good read."
Go ahead and imagine me making a frownyface. I am all for targeted marketing strategies. I am all for taking aim aim at one audience and shooting away.... But. Don't underestimate your audience. Don't call them middlebrow. Don't talk about their comfort zones or publicly admit "Eh, the plots aren't great, but who cares? Hot guys!" Sure, that's the case. You know it. We know it. Just don't say it. Or do say it. Sure. Whatever. You're the millionaire.
Just remember who bought the books that made you one.
I rather think JE needs to look at Charlaine Harris. Her writing has a lot of similarity to JE's, and she's hitting a similar target, but her books have retained some of the heart where Evanovich's have lost it. Harris's people act like people (even the ones that technically aren't people). They change, they get a clue, they get bitter, they go a little nuts. Plum-people are pod-people: they never change. Not even a little. Joe never gets sick of Stephanie-Ranger and walks out. Stephanie never gets sick of Joe calling her incompetent and fries him. Ellen never gets to go to school. Grandma Mazur never stays out of trouble. Lula never stops talking about bein a 'ho. Ranger is the only one that grows at all, and that's only to start becoming some richer, smokier version of Morelli. That's cool and all... but for 12 books?
I don't like Sookie as much as I liked Early Stephanie, but I like her a lot more than current-Stephanie. Why? Because Sookie will get a clue. I don't see Sookie going, thirteen books into a thirteen-book let's-kidnap-Sookie-spree, "Eeew, no guns!" I see Sookie going "Well, if people are gonna keep trying to kill me... Where's the range again?"
I love Ranger. I'm always going to love Ranger. But I love the Ranger I made up. And he and Janet's Ranger just look less and less and less alike. Maybe they never looked alike. I don't know.
So why am I going on such a rant here? It's because I'm trying to study these authors and see what they do right and what they do wrong. What's working, what isn't, and then I firmly plan on trying it out for myself. Maybe I'll go horridly wrong. Then I'll note that, see which part of the equation fizzled and go re-work.
I'm tired of reading heroines who won't pick up a gun and kill people when they have to. I am equally tired of reading heroines who attract Every Male in a 3-State Area. ... Okay, so maybe not so much on the second part. But if you're going to be absurd with it, just put the tongue to the cheek and do it so we can all giggle when it gets outrageous (Ahem, Anita Blake, I'm looking at you...).
Let's have some humor that is more about the humor of the person observing (a la Rebel Angels, whose narrator is hysterical at times), which serves to lighten the dark events rather than just assuring everyone "Oh, don't worry, no one dies in my universe and Batman/Robin/Roving Transvestites from Transylvania will save the day!"
Screw that. My universe? People die. The fans can hate you for it, but they'll probably still watch/read (Buffy anyone?). And they'll write fanfic. Fanfic=free publicity, so don't bitch if they write it. Everyone's first writing was a fanfic. Name me one kid who didn't make up their own adventures in Narnia/Neverland/Agrabah/Atlantica/Rose Petal Place/My Little Ponyland/GI Joe/Star Trek/Star Wars/Fantasia/X-Men.
Maybe it's weird that I'm focused on the whole chick-lit arena as my eventual target. Eh. It's a good starting point as any. And I don't much like writing sex scenes. And god fantasy takes forever and a half to do right. I also loathe procedurals and while I'd love to do history, I want a paycheck first. Then historicals, when I have enough cash I can take the time to do a researched, amazing bio of teenage Eleanor of Aquitaine. Or Princess Joanna. Or Joan the Fair Maid of Kent. Or have a zillion other medieval/Renaissance/18th century chicks whose life stories are amazing and totally marketable and completely overlooked.
And if all else fails? I seduce the heir to a publishing empire and either marry him and never worry about paychecks again or take the torrid novelized story to his competitors. ;) Just kidding. He'll be a senator.
aggravatedDear Sherrilyn Kenyon,
I have at last managed to read one of your novels. I would like to say something now:
I. Hate. Your. Book.
I will thank you, however. I am now re-inspired to write romance novels sheerly because I know, deep down in my nonexistant heart, that I could do it better. When I was 13. On a caffeine rush. Do you know how many badly written stories starring vampiric Round Table Knights I have sitting deep in the coffins of my old binders? How many of them star eye-bleeding Mary Sues with more period-correct sensibilities than that catastrophe you call a heroine?
The action scenes were boggling. And not in a good, Kill Bill kind of way. In a bad, high-school-kid-with-their-first-camera way.
"What say you?" does not mean what you think it means.
Medieval English peasants:
- Could. Not. Read.
- Could. Not. Read. Latin.
- Could. Not. Speak. French.
- DID. NOT. USE. DAY CARE. If the kid could walk and talk, they could bloody well work. Remember: No Ye Olde Welfare.
And if you want to say "It's because she's speshul magical wondergirl" THEN SAY SO. Don't expect that your readers won't notice that the peasant girl just read Latin and understood French. Also don't expect that we won't notice when your heroine is acting like a 21st century feminist. Who wants into a guild. A GUILD? She's a GIRL. Okay, granted I know nothing of weaving guilds, but... um... most of the guilds? Men's clubs. But okay. I'll deal with the guild thing. It's the rest of it.
She doesn't get the guild journeyman appointment. They've got too many weavers anyway, so she's screwed. Cue the violins, maestro. She cries in the street after she gets manhandled out of the guild hall. And she can't even make a new dress from the sample material she wove cause it's scarlet. Brownie points for remembering sumptuary laws, and so far all is well. She bemoans fate a bit more. What to do?
Then! Two handsome knights in shining armors show up and offer Yon Bonnie Downtrodden Peasant Lass of Starry Name (Seren, henceforth known as Sue!ren) the chance to be a queen. Possibly they want a good lay, but um... as half the cast keeps pointing out, she's Not That Hot. So, either Not That Hot is the New Medieval Hot or they just want a cheap shag. But they might at least pay her, which means she'll get food (since you beat us over the head with "never been full in years" schpiels every 3 pages).
She kinda balks at the idea that Sir Gawaine and Sir Agravain (who lost the e on the end of his name in an unfortunate accident, and I think Morg
Now, these are two large and heavily armed walking death machines. Who are nobles. Sue!ren is a peasant. Defying them = death. Going with them = possible loss of apprenticeship which is going nowhere anyway, and possible payment (therefore possible food), and less possibility of imminent death but total possibility of pregnancy (because this is a romance so we all know she's not staying a virgin).
Oh, and sorry, but if the Lord of the Manor wanted a peasant girl for the night? The probability of her rushing off, thereby risking horrid medieval death sentences? I don't care how effing much she liked being a virgin, unless she's bound for sainthood or the nunnery, she probably laid back and thought of the blacksmith. I'll grant you some major kicking and screaming, but... That whole "survival instinct" and all? Bound to kick in. Memories of heads on spikes by the Tower of London, public executions, etc... Unless you have an IQ of 30. Oh wait...
So, she runs from the two knights who she thinks want a tumble in Ye Olde Haystack (but are of course there to protect her and take away to Care-a-lot)... straight into another knight. In black armor no less! And she accepts his offer of help, involving as it does, whisking her out the city gates on horseback and into Ye Olde Forbydden Wyde Worlde? Thus blowing her apprenticeship all to hell and letting exactly what she was worried about in the first place happen anyway. Um. Logic go boom?
He's a knight.. In other words he is equally as likely as the last pair to rape/kill/abuse/enslave her. At least the first pair didn't look like they'd be whisking her out of town and there was a chance therefore that she could go back to work and no one would notice. Being swept up on large black steeds by Sir Hotness de Noche and gallumphing out the gate? Kinda conspicuous. Poof goes the Apprenticeship of Hopeless Drudgery.
And, lo, the knight in BLACK ARMOR on a BLACK STALLION aka a BLACK KNIGHT has whisked her off to EVIL GRAY LAND OF DARK AND FOGGY DOOM formerly known as Camelot. And she's shocked. Then she is horrified. Then she listens to the old biddy who suggests she seduce the dude, steal his pointy sword, and escape. She considers. The same chick who 5 pages back was going "Oh noes! Death before Coitus!" But she decides she likes viginhood. Kinda. Maybe. But he is pretty hawt...
Then she figures out that zomg, he's a DEMON DARK KNIGHT LORD KING thing. Of Camelot. And he is the one thing standing between her and the DEMON DARK QUEEN thing, aka Morgen le Fey, who for the purposes of this book has developed an allergy to a's and whose evil manifests itself through hissy fits, orgies, and a love of INXS.
And Sue!ren bitches him out. Yes. He, the Demon Dark Lord of Evilness Who Kills Anyone He Wants No Matter Who They Are Without Mercy and Giggles While They Scream, he who is the only thing keeping Ho!gren from killing her. Of course. Yet he does not kill her. No, for he is charmed by her 'lack of fear' and her 'integrity' and that she 'trusts' him not to rape her. I think he mistakes 'trust' for 'desperate denial of reality through cunning use of delusions,' but meh.
I spent the rest of the gazillion pages hoping desperately that Sue!ren would die. Then she did. Halfway through? She gets a personality transplant. I liked her better after the sudden acquisition of humor, but it only made her that much more of an Angela Knight ripoff. So I still wanted her to die.
I vaguely liked Blaise the albino mandrake. I liked the gargoyle leader. Everyone else needed to die.
And then the Epilogue. Jeebus Voldemorte Chistoff on a pogo stick. I read it and thought "Omg, how'd a bad Lord of the Rings fanfic get here?". Except for the breast feeding bit.
I hated this book. I hated it with an unholy passion. I resent that it was published. I resent that it was written by a best-selling author. Angela Knight gets away with her fantasy vampire-and-witch Camelot Through Time thing because she has the humor, the dialogue and the edgy sex scenes. This book had none of that.
What pisses me off the most is that in the author note, Sherry talks about how this series grew out of her college research into Courtly Love and Celtic lore, and Arthurian romance. Apparently she never read a damned thing that was written in Middle-Modern English, never checked up on the life of a peasant, and never thought about keeping characters in-character. Or giving evil characters 3-dimensions.
Morgen is a watered-down Andais from LKH's work.
The whole universe is almost exactly Angela Knights, with a few less witches and (apparently) less vampires. Sherilyn never explained if the knights are just immortal or the Penmerlins-Pendragons are all vampires, or if it's just Kerrigan's curse (except that he mentions the blood rite of the Pendragons killing the Penmerlins... and it's never brought up again). So it comes off that Kerrigan is just randomly vampiric-but-not.
The darklings are nympho drows. And I'm pretty sure the next book is set up to be Drizz't Do'Urden Gets Laid.
The soulmates-bonding-in-shared-souls-and-pi
If King Arthur had sons by Gwenivere... why the hell wasn't one of them the successor, thus negating the whole Mordred lunacy before it even began?
Nothing in this book made sense. Nothing followed through (the 'heroine' getting a new personality, the 'hero' being randomly vampiric...). The characters were over-expositioned and under-developed. The sex wasn't good. Wasn't good as in Laurell K. Hamilton's Micah had better sex scenes.
I hope she puts more effort into the next one, but I kinda doubt it. It's about a dark elf who's trying to be good and the girl sent to turn him evil again.... yeah. Avada Kedavra. With fire.
aggravatedZOMGWTFBBQ??!!!111
I am reduced to Netspeak Capslock of WTF. It's awful. Aweful. Hidious. Heinous. Atrocious. And I'm a fan of the Merry series.
Seriously, it's like a closet-obsession. It's my hormone-candy word porn. But even I cannot overlook the repetitive horribleness of the first preview chapter of Mistral's Kiss. Especially not in conjunction with the awfulness of the title. Come on, Mistral??! Immortal Fae of the Worst Pick-Up Line in the History of Ever? "Come on baby, ride the storm!"
Even the Backstreet Boys wouldn't have sunk so low.
Good god, someone get Laurell MSWord already. And a really good thesaurus, a grammar book, a style book, and a spot in English Grammar 101.
I'm a mostly unpublished amateur writer. I'm all for mindless, hormone-candy word-porn. I can even deal with some first-person Sue-age. I'll let it slide when you want to use the same effing descriptions from book to book. Go Team Laziness and all that jazz. But when you seriously cannot go two paragraphs without a major typo and/or repetitive phrasing and descriptions... There's a problem.
WHO IS EDITING THIS THING??! Argh. So help me if someone says it's Jon-Boy, I'ma bustin' caps in asses. See, lookit, gritty urban realism! (Ahem, sorry, wrong author-rant, but same problem...)
What happened to the idea of the Merry series being about court intrigues and pretty faeries with unpretty habits? And sex, what happened to the sex? The sex used to be kinda amusing... it's not amusing now. It's just different shades of Boring Vanilla. With occasional hints of menagee trois.
And in summation, my final thoughts on this sample chapter:
BLECH.
I. Hate. You.
The Lords of Avalon? Sucks so hard I cannot begin to describe the suckage. It's like I lost several brain cells in an attack by a rabid Dirt Devil.
Angela Knight called and she wants her universe back. She says you can keep your dialogue.
No thanks,
Disdain
PS. I want a refund, but I'll settle for using the paper as kindling.
The rustic rural hill life looks pretty. If you're an idiot city-dweller who's never had to rely on some coon dogs and daddy's shotgun to keep meat on the table while also dodging the Game Warden.
God, I am so fucking sick of this romanticized country life crap. I am equally sick of dumb country-folk and vaguely sinister hillbillies.
Ahem. Apologies, but if I have to listen to my significant other wax romantic about Toby-Kieth-Land, Country Life, Having Some Land, Owning A Farm, or whatever other thing it is this week... I am going to shoot him with my daddy's hunting rifle and bury the body out on the back 40, by the old fishin' hole, and eight feet down like that inane song sings about. Or the root cellar. Or I'll take up the old ways and feed him to the pigs. They eat bone.
While I whole-heartedly encourage no one to find out that I spent my childhood on a farm in the back-end of BFE, it pisses me off that the guy who says he loves me apparently can't remember and isn't pausing to ask my opinion on the idea of being back there. It doubly pisses me off because he's an aforementioned city-dweller whose only country experience is summer weeks at his grandpa's non-operational farm. He went to private schools his entire life. And not on scholarships.
Who the hell is he to act like he knows what it is to live on a farm and glorify the blue collar life? Furthermore, who the hell is he to drop out of college and start wearing cowboy hats and Wranglers and buy a pick-up truck? I'm all for rebellion, but God, get a nose ring.
You want to live that good ol' boy life? Fine. Live your dreams. But don't try to take me with you or I swear by the embossed leather belts hidden at the back of my closet that you will regret it.
Me, I'm finishing my degree. I'm spending semesters abroad. I'm visiting friends in foreign countries. I'm writing novels and planning world domination. I like the country club life and I like golf (but don't tell my parents, I'll deny it with my last breath- We all have our rebellions). And besides, Wranglers do nothing for me. I do look hot in cowboy hats, though.
The last few years have been fun, but I think this is about as far as we're going to go. Sometimes you just have to let go.
aggravatedThe cell phone's dire plan? It's begun ringing at weird times, or randomly vibrating to inform me I have five messages. Always five. No more. No less. Five. And I must be informed of this fact at random points during the day or night via my cellphone suddenly having a strange fit and blinking/vibrating itself across my desk.
It has also begun to display mysterious 'Unavailable' callers. I take this to mean phone sales or ex-boyfriends, neither of which I wish to converse with. But the Unavailables will not go away. They're calling at least twice a day. Go away, Unavailables, I have no need of you. You are unavailable, remember? This means you should either be off cavorting with your new girlfriend or pestering non-college students for money. Whichever.
I refuse to give in to the Unavailable pressure. I will not answer them. No. I will respect their wish to remain unavailable, even as they try to prove they are actually very available by calling me. Damn it. Here they go again...
nervousOh crap. I haven't studied for the Art Final Of All-Consuming Doom. *panic*
Wait. Breathe. Procrastinate.
Something to distract me with... oh! Random lj linkspam. Yes. That will do nicely.
Random things within lj that might amuse the world at large:
I keep forgetting about MetaQuotes:
http://community.livejournal.com/metaqu
http://community.livejournal.com/metaqu
Oh, and as a sidenote: Amazon is a bastard and I want my new books NOW. I need them to procrastinate effectively. *cries and wanders off to actually study*