Author: terribleminds (page 208 of 480)

This will be spoiler-free.

I cannot promise the comments will be spoiler-free.

Assume that the post will be safe.

But the area below it may be TOXIC WITH SEPTIC STORY SPOILAGE.

Let us begin simply with:

AHHHH OH SHIT I LOVED THIS MOVIE

WHEN CAN I SEE IT AGAIN

PYOO PYOO

VWOMMZ KZZZZH

BEE BOOP BLURBY DOOP

HAHAHA WHEEE

*flails around with a cardboard tube lightsaber*

*trips on scattered Star Wars LEGO bricks*

*falls down*

*pees self*

*composes self*

I’m back. I’m feeling much better now.

And now, a scattered smattering of thoughts in no particular order:

1. This is a love letter to the Star Wars universe — not just the universe, and not just the characters, but all the intangible narrative stuff that surrounds it. It is very much about how Star Wars feels. And how its stories are told. It is positively honorific of that. This is no small compliment when I say that The Force Awakens just plain feels like Star Wars from the first minute. It’s nostalgic, but not in your face about it, I don’t think?

2. Daisy Ridley and John Boyega need to be in everything together. Hepburn and Tracy, Bogey and Bacall — they had such wonderful chemistry together as these two people flung into adventure. Their characters are intensely fun to watch. You care from them from the first moment you meet each. (I would take more Poe Dameron, though — he’s awesome in TFA, but I want more!)

3. BB-8 is my master now. He is like a baby R2D2. He is like a dog and a kitten stuffed inside a roly-poly Christmas ornament. He’s super delightful and elicits pure joy from me shut up.

4. Kylo Ren is a surprisingly effective villain. Tragic and deeper than the trailers lead you to believe. He is far more than just some mustache-twirler. He is vulnerable.

5. It’s worth talking about how much fun this movie is. That is something that must be stated — fun is not as easy as you think to create. It’s certainly not the end-all be-all of the experience, nor should it be. Fun is a shallow metric. But it’s a vital metric just the same. A Star Wars movie that isn’t much fun isn’t one I want to see again. This film plays fun like a fucking symphony. It knows when to nail those moments of laughter and delight, it knows when to hit on tension and when to create those moments where you want to jump out of your seat, holding your head and screaming with fear or laughter or fear-laughter.

6. Some have noted that the film’s story bears a big resemblance to A New Hope, though I’d argue it’s beyond that — this film remixes a lot of beats from all the films of the OT (though very few from the prequels, I find). It feels designed to remind you of Tatooine and Endor and Hoth. It feels keen to echo archetypes and the Death Star and some of the same twists and turns — but then, at the same time, it twists them and turns them in new ways. It is a remix in the artful way, not the warmed-over rehash way — they’re playing the same notes but making a new, unexpected song with it. Myth, actually, works a lot like this, so I’m on board.

7. Sometimes, these beats become overtly fan-servicey, though. Not too many, but there are few moments that feel more like narrative artifice than genuine storytelling all in effort to elbow you in the ribs and say, EHH? EHHH? REMEMBER THAT OTHER THING? WE ARE REFERENCING THAT! RIGHT HERE! RIGHT NOW! WHAAAAT? ISN’T THAT CRAZY? Sometimes, it works. Other times, it feels like a square peg stomped into a circle hole.

8. The film also occasionally engineers exposition in a way that feels like it’s because the audience needs it — at a few moments, characters exposit even though they should damn well already know what they’re telling one another. And it feels like classic AS YOU KNOW, BOB storytelling. Both characters know the story but we don’t, so somebody’s gotta be a mouthpiece for it. It’s effective in that it does deliver information, but it doesn’t always feel organic.

9. That said, exposition isn’t too heady or heavy — the movie actually doesn’t go out of its way to explain a whole lot. In this way it harkens back to A New Hope. Worldbuilding for me is best when its explanations are cast to the margins — like, A New Hope drops all this stuff in your lap and just expects you to deal with it. “What are the Clone Wars? Enh. Who is Jabba? Whatever. THERE’S SOME SHIT GOING ON YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND, HUMAN.” And then it skips past them, tra-la-la, not caring if you know. That may feel frustrating at first, but that’s a fertile seed-bed where your imagination grows. For years people expounded on what the Clone Wars actually were. It was awesome. And then the prequels came and — okay, listen, this isn’t prequel hate, but it’s worth noting that the prequels took a very different approach to this. The prequels seemed designed to prequelize not just the universe, but to give origin points for damn near everything. “HEY WANNA KNOW WHERE BOBA FETT CAME FROM? OF COURSE YOU DO BECAUSE HE WAS SUCH A VITAL CHARACTER IN THE FIRST THREE MOVIES, IN THAT HE’S A CHUMP WHO GETS TRIPPED INTO A SANDY SPACE SPHINCTER. LET’S PREQUELIZE EVERYTHING. HERE’S SENATOR DIANOGA. HERE’S THE SECRET PLANS FOR THE DEATH STAR TRASH COMPACTOR. HERE’S THE VERY MOMENT THAT HAN SOLO IS MESSILY CONCEIVED.” Episode VII does almost none of this. The 30-year-gap between films is not bridged with a great deal of information. A part of me hopes they never bridge it completely.

10. I get chills thinking of a few moments from TFA. Some real strong OH SHIT moments.

11. Listening to the soundtrack now and I like it a lot, though it didn’t stand out overly much while watching the movie? That may have just been because I was all OH SNAP OH WHEE WHIZBANG AAAAAH. That said, the last track just before the credits is magical. Which is appropriate, I think: this film does the impossible and feels quite a bit like magic. And it represents both kinds of magic: it vacillates between the smoke and mirrors of a magic trick, and then when that falls away it delivers something close to real narrative sorcery — a Jedi Mind Trick all its own.

12. Speaking of snap — OH SNAP WEXLEY. That’s right. Snap Wexley, played by Greg Grunberg, is also Temmin Wexley, from a little book called Star Wars: Aftermath. Don’t believe me? Boom! It’s official now, over at Star Wars Dot Com. This of course is the gateway to getting Mister Bones in a Star Wars movie. I PRAY TO MOVIE JESUS TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN.

13. A small complaint about the film — it moves along at a breathless pace. That’s good, for a lot of it. I like that it isn’t there to waste our time. That being said… I don’t mind when a film wastes my time earnestly and with purpose. The Force Awakens doesn’t have a great deal of oxygen. The original trilogy is full of oxygen, and sometimes, quite curiously, that’s a function of budget. You can’t do two hours of whizz-bang stuff, so you pack it full of dialogue and character and tension and mystery. Jaws works because the shark was fucked up and so they had to do a lot of stuff with keeping the mechanical shark hidden. With films now, the budgets are big and the possibilities are endless, and this film takes advantage — as such, it races from set piece to set piece, barely pausing to catch its breath. It’s fine, mostly, but sometimes the film suffers from feeling like it needed to pause, slow down, catch some air. Quieter moments. It has them! It does. But overall, the story feels like it takes place over two hours instead of however long it actually takes.

14. The aliens in this movie are on fleek. Whatever “on fleek” means. Most of the alien species are unrecognizable, which is fun. People have screencapped and dissected the cantina scene from Ep IV for years looking for cool aliens — some scenes in this movie will get similar treatment, I suspect. Nice design. The whole film feels that way, too — everything feels used up, worn in, epic when it needs to be, intimate when it doesn’t. I go back to the word organic in terms of how it all comes together. It feels grown together. A forest of trees instead of a greenhouse of potted plants.

15. The spaceship battles are pyoo-pyoo kaboom awesome.

16. I don’t think it’s a spoiler to say that lightsaber fights happen. And they are jaw-dropping. In fact, one of the fights in this movie is maybe my favorite ever put to film. FOR REALSIES.

17. So, wait, when is Episode VIII coming out? Not tomorrow? GODDAMNIT

AND NOW WE PLAY THE WAITING GAME

So, in case you didn’t know, it’s kinda Star Warsy out there right now. Our four-year-old is eyeball deep in it — normally at this point in the year he becomes hopelessly obsessed with Christmas music, an act that will carry him into February easy (meaning we will have Jingle Bells on the brain long after the tree has been returned to its basement prison). But oh, no. Not this year. This year it’s Star Wars music all the time. The kid whistles the Imperial March and calls it “our song.” He’s all up in Ewok tunes. He loves the fanfare and the cantina music and everything.

And it’s translated to, well, everything else, too. Shows (Rebels!), movies (not really the prequels so much, but definitely the original trilogy), video games (Infinity and Battlefront and oh god the mercilessly cruel LEGO Star Wars game, a game so frustrating I want to bite big hunks out of my PS3 controller). Playground game. And, duh, toys. Many toys. LEGO. My old figures. His figures. Even his non-SW toys get rebranded as SW toys for purpose of playtime.

He loves lightsabers.

He makes them out of pretty much anything.

While traveling, my wife sent me a photo of him holding what could only be described as a big-ass, real-looking lightsaber. Red and eerie and epic. Quite a bit like Kylo Ren’s saber, actually.

(See photo at top.)

Turns out, Ultrasaber sent me that.

Like, just because. I mean, I assume they want me to review it? I dunno. I figure I should, because it’s really pretty amazing. They gave me this version: The Renegade.

Here, then, is my brief review:

It is bright as anything. It is properly demonic. It is long and it is heavy. It makes you feel like a proper dark Jedi. (Or, turn it upside down for a Satanic cross!) I saber battle the tiny human — mostly he just whacks at it with his own plastic swords — and it seems like it can take some punishment. The hilt itself is elegant, machined beautifully — though one complaint is that in a few spots, it’s actually rather sharp. I cut myself on the thing because of that — not badly, but a scratch that bled. Mine doesn’t have the sound effects, though I imagine that would be aces.

The Ultrasaber is bad-ass. I know other folks who own them and love them equally.

If you want a proper-feeling lightsaber, they’re your way to go.

Just in time for Christmas, or for this fancy new Star Wars movie coming out…

So, today is the first day of the pneumonia boogaloo where I did not immediately wake up, stumble into a hot shower and spend the next half-hour horking up my lung-beef into the shower drain. Gross, I know, but it’s true — GOTTA KEEP THAT LUNG-BEEF-A-MOVING. I feel mostly normal, too, which is nice. You don’t actually realize how sick you were until you’re feeling halfway better. And then you’re like, ohhhhh. Oh, shit.

Anyway.

I have returned from the thicket of sickness, though I’m still taking it easy as all reports indicate falling back into the pneumonia oubliette is not impossible.

I will of course be going to see STAR WARS on Thursday because apparently there’s a new movie.

I KNOW, RIGHT?

Otherwise, though, this blog will be a little quiet between now and the New Year. I may pop in here and there and decorate your screen with my blither-blather, but mostly quiet. I got me a pack of deadlines nipping at my heels and illness plus holiday did me minimal good in getting work done.

SO, ONWARD, MIGHTY PENMONKEYS.

See you on the other side.

P.S. Nerdist said that Zer0es was one of their favoritest books of 2015.

P.P.S. Zer0es is still on sale at Amazon for $1.99 for the Kindle version. IF YOU BUY ENOUGH COPIES I MAY NOT DIE I’m totally sure that’s how this works.

P.P.S.S. Locus ran an interview with me — in which I talk about ALL KINDS OF STUFF — and that interview is now online so you can go clicky-clicky and read it.

I said some stuff on Twitter today about spoilers, and I thought I’d bleat them out here, too. Because there’s a certain movie coming out next week and it lands in some international territories earlier than others and I feel like there’s been a very effective curtain pulled across the story so far, and it’d be awesome to help keep that curtain pulled tight for those folks who cannot immediately jump out and see the movie the moment it exists in the world. Like, I know most of the movie, but I’m not gonna tell you about it because I want you to experience it yourself!

Engage Storify:

I’ll add, too, to this discussion that as a storyteller I very clearly try to orchestrate big, jaw-dropping moments in the work — yes, the small moments and emotional beats are important, too, but I love to have those dramatic plot events where SHIT GOES BUCK WILD. Like, my greatest pleasure is sitting over someone’s shoulder as they read new pages of my work and they get to one of those moments. I can barely contain my excitement. I engineer those moments precisely because I want them to be read organically as part of the piece — I don’t want it told to you as some kind of narrative data point. I want you to experience it inside the work. Those moments are part of the fabric of the narrative — and tearing them out of the fabric and plopping them on the ground is rude and destructive to the thing I just endeavored to create.

I mean, sure, I can’t control how you consume it or what you do with it.

But I can, just the same, hope you don’t barf up spoilers of my work into other people’s mouths — they’re not baby birds, they don’t need you feeding them that way. I want you to talk about the work! But talking about the work isn’t the same as yelling it into the ear of some guy sitting down at a Starbucks. He hasn’t read it. Go find people who have read it explicitly, then talk to them. That’s how conversation works. Discussion is meaningful when it’s with people who have the context needed. Otherwise, you’re just on FULL BLAST BROADCAST, which I guess is arguably one of the negative sides of social media. Noise overwhelming signal and all that.

ANYWAY.

Them’s my thoughts.

Do with them as you will.

*jetpacks away*

*hits a tree*

*dies*

Dear Chuck,

I heard you were feeling poorly so I stole the keys to your car shed blog again and made you a get-well Questionable Answer to All Your Publishing Questions.

QUESTION 3: WHERE THE @#%!%^&@ Do EDITORIAL MARKS COME FROM AND WHAT THE $@#@$@! DO THEY MEAN

The answer’s been right in front of our eyes for years, but I’ve only now decrypted the truth to those cryptic squiggles you see on manuscripts (and sometimes restaurant menus after I’ve been there, shhh don’t tell.).

No need to thank me. I’m guessing this will be GREAT to read in your fevered state!

* * *

Fran Wilde’s short stories have appeared at Tor.com, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Uncanny Magazine, and in Asimovs’ and Nature. Fran also interviews authors about food in fiction at Cooking the Books, and blogs for GeekMom and SFSignal.

Her first novel is Updraft (Tor 2015). Her novella, “A Jewel and Her Lapidary” will be published by Tor.com Publishing in May 2016, and her 2nd novel, Cloudbound (Tor 2016) will follow in the fall.

Fran Wilde: Website | Twitter

Updraft: Indiebound | Doylestown Bookshop | Amazon | B&N

TIS THE SEASON something something reindeer.

So, Mister Scalzi does this very nice thing at his blog where he says hey come by and tell us about your book, and then you do, and good times. I am not quite as nice.

Hence, here’s how this works:

You can recommend one book.

This book can be a novel or a comic or a short story or whatever.

Traditional, self-published, whatever.

The rub is:

You cannot recommend your own book.

Nope. Can’t do it. Don’t do it.

*smacks your hand*

You will recommend someone else’s book that you loved.

Not your own. Someone else’s. Get it? Got it? Good.

One recommendation, please. One book only. Now let’s hear ’em.