I've had this problem since forever, which is that I will be working super hard on a writing project, one of my novels, and then BAM another idea suddenly hits me and I'll have to plot that thing out before I lose it, but then the inspiration starts to possess me and all I want to do is start writing the story and learn more about these characters but I know that if I start writing this new story I'll either lose the novel I've been working so hard on for months or have the new one fade out. And I don't want that to happen, because I love all my stories equally, it just so happens that sometimes one needs food more than the others. But I can't start a new project when I'm in the middle of a different one, or else one starts to take priority, and then the other one goes cold and I won't be able to pick it up again.
But I think I've found the solution. And not only have I found the solution to this little problem, it also serves as a solution to a different writing problem. This has been happening to me for a while, where I have this great idea for a story, but the plot and the characters and the world just won't flesh itself out. I have some basic ideas for the characters, but nothing concrete. I cannot tell you how irritating this is, where the world just refuses to be created.
There is one solution to both of these problems, and that is trial stories.
I recently started writing a couple trial stories for this great story idea. While ultimately, I want it to be a novel, it turns out that writing the world in a short story format (or at least in a disconnected chapter format) for a while actually helps to make the world and characters and plot a lot more concrete. I've already changed things from my original plan, and it's starting to make a whole lot more sense. Also, the characters were unfortunately in a bit of Harry, Ron and Hermione format before (one valiant main character, the goofy friend and the girl constantly playing devil's advocate), but luckily with my trial stories I've managed to develop them beyond that, as well as a few other characters. So that's one use for the trial stories which have served me wonderfully.
The other use for the trial stories is that it feeds the hunger. Because, really, when you're just longing to start writing a story but can't for the sake of project management, that's really what it is. It's a hunger to explore another world. And writing the trial stories not only feeds the hunger, it feeds the hunger in a short way so that you don't get too distracted from the main project, but also get a bit of a break from it (often the inspiration will come when your imagination has kind of exhausted a particular world for the time being. It's never permanent, but you wouldn't hang out with the same person every day for three weeks straight).
And I really do enjoy the trial stories that have come out of this little experiment, and I'm actually rather proud of them. I was actually quite tempted to post one of them up here. But I realized that the stories don't make sense to other people. You see, since my mind is making up the rules of the universe as I go, nothing's really explained. I could post it up here, but you wouldn't know what was going on. The thing about us writers is that our minds fill in the blanks, especially when we're not writing for any particular audience. Which means in general, there are a lot of blanks in my trial stories where there aren't blanks for me.
The other thing about these trial stories is that they're quite exciting to write. I'm one of those writers that has to plot out their story extensively before they start. It doesn't always follow the plan, but the plan has to be there in case I ever get the dreaded disease, writer's block. This is generally a good thing.
The negative side to this is that I'm very rarely surprised with where my stories end up going. Because I planned them. There have been a few moments that surprised me, which is always wonderful (in my greek mythology story, when Ares punched Hermes in the face? I was having emotions about that little twist for about a week), but it doesn't happen very often. Which actually means that I've gotten worse at just rolling with the energy. There was a scene in one of my stories in which a wife agreed to stay with her husband in order to help him survive an assassin - it's a long story - but it was important to my plot that she DIDN'T end up staying. So she ended up leaving in a really forced and cowardly way, which wasn't ideal, but the plot I'd planned wasn't following the energy of the story itself.
To be fair, I'm usually pretty good about this - there've been a few major plot points that were not at all written in my plan, but that were impossible to not have happen with the way things were going. But to write a short story with next to no plan about where it's going - it's exciting. Especially when it actually ends up going places. That's the best part, when you're looking it over and you go, "Hey, I think that was actually some plot development" or "Hey, that was actually some character development" it's like "I DID IT GUYS I WROTE AN INTERESTING STORY WITH NO PLOT PLANNED OUT BE PROUD OF ME".
I wouldn't recommend a strategy like that for a work you intend people to read - please, plot your stories - but as far as experimental trial stories go, it's a good strategy. It allows you to try things that you may end up liking with a lot more freedom, and also the elbow room to just kind of have fun and explore a little.
But the thing about writing is everyone has different techniques that work for them. I currently really really like the trial story strategy, but that might not work for everyone. But it certainly works for me I'm very happy about this this is a happy thing.
I don't think anyone but writers can fully understand the amount of frustration that has just been lifted from me. This is like discovering you can still live at Hogwarts while taking occasional day trips to Narnia. It's fantastic.
...
Yes, writers are crazy and have crazy problems, what did you expect?
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Favourite Thing of the Week: #7
Bastille.
The wonderful, beautiful, amazing band, Bastille.
Even though they pronounce it Basteel, when it's actually more like Bastee because French Immersion. I forgive them because A) they're English, and 2) their songs are beautiful and wonderful.
I bought their entire album Bad Blood, and good golly I was not disappointed. I mean, it's only their debut album, and already it's currently the only thing I listen to. They're just awesome. I'm in love. Also the lead singer's voice is very attractive. But also the music is made of beauty.
Current favourite songs by them include:
Pompeii (yep, a direct reference to the historical event with the volcano)
Icarus (yep, a direct reference to the greek myth about Daedalus and Icarus and the wings)
Daniel in the Den (yep, a direct reference to the biblical story about Daniel and the lion's den)
Laura Palmer (yep, a direct reference to the iconic mystery show Twin Peaks, as in, "Who killed Laura Palmer?")
Flaws (not a reference to anything but it's just wonderful)
With all these references everywhere, small wonder I adore this band so much. THEY JUST GET IT.
The wonderful, beautiful, amazing band, Bastille.
Even though they pronounce it Basteel, when it's actually more like Bastee because French Immersion. I forgive them because A) they're English, and 2) their songs are beautiful and wonderful.
I bought their entire album Bad Blood, and good golly I was not disappointed. I mean, it's only their debut album, and already it's currently the only thing I listen to. They're just awesome. I'm in love. Also the lead singer's voice is very attractive. But also the music is made of beauty.
Current favourite songs by them include:
Pompeii (yep, a direct reference to the historical event with the volcano)
Icarus (yep, a direct reference to the greek myth about Daedalus and Icarus and the wings)
Daniel in the Den (yep, a direct reference to the biblical story about Daniel and the lion's den)
Laura Palmer (yep, a direct reference to the iconic mystery show Twin Peaks, as in, "Who killed Laura Palmer?")
Flaws (not a reference to anything but it's just wonderful)
With all these references everywhere, small wonder I adore this band so much. THEY JUST GET IT.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Knowledgeable =/= Pretentious
I am a little snobbish about things that I enjoy. I know that. I admit that. When I watch a movie I am thinking about cinematography and editing and writing. When I read a book I am thinking about descriptions and character development. I'm like that. I thought we knew that.
That doesn't mean I'm trying to belittle your knowledge or opinions when I express my observations. That is never my intention. I'm trying to start a conversation, maybe share a fact or two that I find interesting. I'm not trying to appear smarter, I'm expressing what to me is an interesting observation. Is there something wrong with that?
Yes, I am knowledgeable about things that I like. Duh.
Yes, I tend to have strong opinions about things that I like. Duh.
Yes, I enjoy sharing my knowledge and opinions with people. Duh.
I don't think that makes me self-righteous or better than thou or high and mighty. I'm not close-minded. I will hear an argument against my own personal opinion. But that's why I like sharing my opinions, so that someone can talk to me about them, so that I can hear what other people think about it.
Recently people in my life have been throwing the word "pretentious" around. And that offends me. Because noticing that long-running shot at the beginning of the movie Gravity doesn't make me pretentious. Talking about the layers of themes and symbols in the book To Kill a Mockingbird (which is actually a fantastic book and I think everyone should read it because it's so so good) doesn't make me pretentious. I mean, if I say anything besides "I like the part with the explosions", am I pretentious?
I don't understand why expressing my small observations about actual quality of things that I enjoy makes me pretentious. I would think that that just says that I appreciate it all the more. Is it just me that appreciates a movie more once I find the symbols and devices used? Is it really so pretentious of me to talk about things like tracking shots and underlying themes? I don't think so. I would have thought that made me thoughtful. I would have thought that made me observant.
I'm tired of people getting offended or weirded out because of the things I know or the things I like. Nothing I do is intended to belittle the opinions of other people, I just enjoy discussing opinions. That's how I learn from people.
I'm just tired of being embarassed of my own brain, because actually, I'm extremely proud of it. Somehow or other it's looked down on if you really seem to know what you're talking about and I'm getting pretty sick of it. I'm sick of pretending that I only look at stories on a surface level, when anyone who knows me knows that I could probably write a detailed essay about any given movie or book I've seen. I could also poke a million holes in any story just for kicks, if I feel like (and I often do - if I'm in the mood, I'm a terrible person to watch a movie with), but when I actually give a story THOUGHT about the techniques for telling it, I get a lot of blank looks and rolled eyes coming my way. I'm used to it, for the most part, but it gets really really REALLY tiresome that knowing things seems to make me uncool, or even unlikeable.
Why are people like this? I just don't understand it.
That doesn't mean I'm trying to belittle your knowledge or opinions when I express my observations. That is never my intention. I'm trying to start a conversation, maybe share a fact or two that I find interesting. I'm not trying to appear smarter, I'm expressing what to me is an interesting observation. Is there something wrong with that?
Yes, I am knowledgeable about things that I like. Duh.
Yes, I tend to have strong opinions about things that I like. Duh.
Yes, I enjoy sharing my knowledge and opinions with people. Duh.
I don't think that makes me self-righteous or better than thou or high and mighty. I'm not close-minded. I will hear an argument against my own personal opinion. But that's why I like sharing my opinions, so that someone can talk to me about them, so that I can hear what other people think about it.
Recently people in my life have been throwing the word "pretentious" around. And that offends me. Because noticing that long-running shot at the beginning of the movie Gravity doesn't make me pretentious. Talking about the layers of themes and symbols in the book To Kill a Mockingbird (which is actually a fantastic book and I think everyone should read it because it's so so good) doesn't make me pretentious. I mean, if I say anything besides "I like the part with the explosions", am I pretentious?
I don't understand why expressing my small observations about actual quality of things that I enjoy makes me pretentious. I would think that that just says that I appreciate it all the more. Is it just me that appreciates a movie more once I find the symbols and devices used? Is it really so pretentious of me to talk about things like tracking shots and underlying themes? I don't think so. I would have thought that made me thoughtful. I would have thought that made me observant.
I'm tired of people getting offended or weirded out because of the things I know or the things I like. Nothing I do is intended to belittle the opinions of other people, I just enjoy discussing opinions. That's how I learn from people.
I'm just tired of being embarassed of my own brain, because actually, I'm extremely proud of it. Somehow or other it's looked down on if you really seem to know what you're talking about and I'm getting pretty sick of it. I'm sick of pretending that I only look at stories on a surface level, when anyone who knows me knows that I could probably write a detailed essay about any given movie or book I've seen. I could also poke a million holes in any story just for kicks, if I feel like (and I often do - if I'm in the mood, I'm a terrible person to watch a movie with), but when I actually give a story THOUGHT about the techniques for telling it, I get a lot of blank looks and rolled eyes coming my way. I'm used to it, for the most part, but it gets really really REALLY tiresome that knowing things seems to make me uncool, or even unlikeable.
Why are people like this? I just don't understand it.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Video Killed the Literary Star
I heard about the making of an Artemis Fowl movie (ten years late), which made me happy.
Then I heard who was writing the movie, a certain Micheal Goldenberg, whose movies have never been rated above the scale of "mediocre". Which made me a little less happy.
And then, of course, the death sentence: they're putting both the first and second books into one movie. That piece of information had me rocking back and forth in a corner for an hour, trying to be optimistic about it and failing miserably. I'm thoroughly convinced that they're going to just utterly destroy Artemis Fowl, the same way they did Inkheart, the same way they did Percy Jackson, except worse.
So of course, because I'm me, I wrote a letter to Michael Goldenberg.
Now, I can't find a business address to send it to, and Disney Studios is apparently too secretive to allow letters from fans who take an interest (you'd think they'd like ideas from fans now rather than an ocean of complaints afterwards but whatever) so I can't find anywhere on earth to send it to. Which is extremely frustrating, since I took so long to write a letter that was productive instead of anxious and stupid, and respectful instead of drowning in doubt for the writer's abilities. That took time, I can tell you that right now.
But it was all for naught, so I thought I might as well put it on here.
Then I heard who was writing the movie, a certain Micheal Goldenberg, whose movies have never been rated above the scale of "mediocre". Which made me a little less happy.
And then, of course, the death sentence: they're putting both the first and second books into one movie. That piece of information had me rocking back and forth in a corner for an hour, trying to be optimistic about it and failing miserably. I'm thoroughly convinced that they're going to just utterly destroy Artemis Fowl, the same way they did Inkheart, the same way they did Percy Jackson, except worse.
So of course, because I'm me, I wrote a letter to Michael Goldenberg.
Now, I can't find a business address to send it to, and Disney Studios is apparently too secretive to allow letters from fans who take an interest (you'd think they'd like ideas from fans now rather than an ocean of complaints afterwards but whatever) so I can't find anywhere on earth to send it to. Which is extremely frustrating, since I took so long to write a letter that was productive instead of anxious and stupid, and respectful instead of drowning in doubt for the writer's abilities. That took time, I can tell you that right now.
But it was all for naught, so I thought I might as well put it on here.
Mr. Goldenberg,
I have recently learned of
the work that is being done on the film adaptation of the Artemis Fowl books, and as a fan of the series, I must say that
I am excited for the project. That being said, there are a few things I worry
about concerning the adaptation, which I’m sure you will understand.
Firstly,
the plan to combine the first two installments of the series into a single
movie. Let me say, I understand the reasoning behind this tactic. The end of
the second book certainly gives our amoral anti-hero Artemis a much more
clear-cut redemption, for a start, which is nice. It also provides much more
closure for the issue of Artemis’s father’s disappearance. However, though I
understand the logic behind the idea, I don’t entirely believe that it could be
executed well. For instance, the transition between fighting the fairies and
allying with them midway through the film would be strange at best, not to
mention that in order to fit both stories into a single movie, one would
probably have to cut a lot out of the plot of both stories, which wouldn’t be
ideal as most of it becomes important later. I strongly believe the first book
alone can carry its own movie.
However,
if you believe viewers would be unsatisfied with the ending of the first book –
admittedly, Artemis doesn’t prove to be a very dynamic character in the first
installment alone – allow me to suggest a solution. You could end the film with
the beginning of the next book, with Artemis receiving the ransom note from the
Russian mafia. This would provide a cliffhanger, something for audiences to
look forward to in coming movies. Admittedly, this doesn’t solve the issue of
Artemis’s moral ambiguity, but it would show a more sympathetic side of him and
hint at the growth to come. And while it doesn’t exactly provide closure for
the issue of Artemis’s father, it would definitely address it, which I believe
would have nearly the same effect. It also has the added advantage of providing
enough time to fully tell the story of the first novel without it seeming
rushed, which is always a good thing. If you are unsatisfied with the place
this leaves Holly Short, I would suggest focusing on her intense anger towards
Artemis at the end. This would at least suggest that said story does continue, and
hint at confrontation later, something else for audiences to look forward to.
I
would also like to advise you in a few things which should be considered in
creating the film. Firstly, please do not forget to include Juliet Butler in
the first story; while it is true she could be cut out of the story with
relative ease, it does introduce her early, which would prevent her from
seeming like a deus ex machina
should you ever adapt The Eternity Code, the third installment. She also helps show that Butler is,
in fact, a man of honour, which is important to his character. Secondly, don’t
forget about the humour. True, it’s stylish to be dark and edgy these days,
which could be easily done with this dangerous breed of fairy, but a large part
of the reason I fell in love with this series was the smart humour underlying
everything. It is important. Please do not forget that. Thirdly, be very
careful with how you handle the character of Artemis Fowl. He is a protagonist,
but then, so are the fairies. He is not evil, but he wishes to be thought of as
such, in the first story at least. Most importantly, please stay away from
using the story of Artemis’s parents as a tearjerker story. It is sad, and
should be shown as such, but Artemis does not seek sympathy. That is how the
author succeeded in making his story sad without seeming like a rather cheap
excuse to do immoral things.
I
hope you understand that I am not insisting the film be exactly as the book
was; I am aware that they are two different media and will therefore need to be
treated differently. I am insisting, however, that you make a real attempt to
do the books justice, rather than glossing over two complex stories. An
audience the books have not reached will see the movie, and as someone who has
loved the Artemis Fowl series
for many years, I do not want that audience to come away disappointed.
Therefore, please consider my suggestions for the film adaptation, as I truly
believe that they would help retain the story’s original integrity, and in doing
so, retain what made it great to begin with. Thank you for your consideration.
Respectfully,
Megan
Hands
Pretty good, right? I thought so. I also thought it better I not mention that I'm only sixteen. As a fan, I'm already not taken very seriously IN SPITE of the fact that I've been studying what makes a story good for years now and have managed to pin down all the primary reasons that Artemis Fowl worked. There's a friggin' science to this stuff, believe it or not, and trying to make one good story out of two great stories is kind of like trying to make a cake out of two pies: it may sound like a good idea at the time, but it just doesn't work like that.
Since this is my blog, I'm going to give you a much longer list of reasons why this movie is probably going to fail.
First of all, and this bugs me to no end: They're undoubtedly going to white-wash everybody. I know this because they already did it with the graphic novels, and the film industry is notorious for this. In spite of the fact that they repeatedly describe Holly as having "coffee-coloured skin", and repeatedly describe the Butlers as being strikingly Eurasian, we all know that in the movie they're all going to be white. Which will irritate me, and probably a lot of other people as well.
Secondly, I know I've addressed this, but what the actual frig are they thinking? Putting both books into one movie? What the hell? Not only are both stories plenty big enough to have their own movie, that would involve having Artemis KIDNAPPING A FAIRY and the fairies TRYING TO KILL HIM in one half of the movie, and then Artemis and the fairies (including the one he kidnapped), WORKING TOGETHER for the second half. No matter how good the editing, the acting, that'll be awkward at best and distractingly unbelievable at worst. I just can't picture it.
Thirdly, the character of Artemis Fowl is so easy to screw up. I know because the smart ones usually are. Everyone generalizes the smart characters so that they're just smart, when in fact there's a lot more to the process than that. It happened to Abed when Harmon left Community, and there's absolutely no doubt in my mind that Artemis Fowl will suffer. If they put some sappy music to the scenes with his mother in an attempt to make us go "Aww, he's good at heart", I'm legit going to be angry. It's a sad situation, yes, but he doesn't try to make anyone sympathize with him, which is what makes it believable instead of cheap and if the movie doesn't reflect that I'm going to be mad. He's not all bad - he's really guilty about the mind games he bamboozles his captive with - but he is far from nice, and if they try to portray him as some kind of good kid got in over his head type thing, I'll be mad. Because he's not in over his head. Some heroes hear the call to adventure and fear it. Artemis friggin' staked out the call to adventure for a couple months and kidnapped it, then blew up a boat on the way home as a warning.
Oh, another thing they'll for sure screw up: Commander Root. In fact, most of the LEP. Artemis Fowl has a pretty big "Good Isn't Nice" thing going on, which is actually pretty awesome. While most of the LEP has this thing going on most of the time, I think of Commander Root specifically because Commander Root is probably the least nice (and most abusive) one of the good guys. Sure, he spends at least half the series shouting at people to not be idiots or to shut up or to press the button or he'll climb up there and push it with your face, but he's still one of the goodest good guys. He's in it to help people. He'd risk his life for Haven city, or even another officer. He once walked with live grenades over a hole that basically went to the center of the earth to open a route to Los Angeles to help save Haven. Also, in the same incident, came out of it with broken ribs, coughing blood and everything. Point is, he's one of the goodest good guys in the series (especially considering Artemis Fowl and Mulch Diggums count as good guys as well). And just because he's a strong believer in tough love, possibly to a fault, doesn't mean that the audience should be turned against him. I'll admit that when I first read Book 1 I did not understand whether I was supposed to be for Root or against him. But no matter the initial first impression, he nearly got blown up for Holly Short, and if the movie manages to portray Root as your stock character horrible boss, I will not be happy.
Okay, on the subject of the pure size of the stories they're trying to fit into a single movie, here's the main plot points that would take up the bare skeleton of the movie:
Book 1:
- Exposition: we meet Artemis, Butler, Juliet, his mother, find a fairy and deal with them, and translate the fairy Book.
- We meet Holly Short and Commander Root and Foaly as Holly goes on an aboveground mission tracking a rogue troll. A mission which goes spectacularly sour. I'm talking buildings are destroyed, the whole thing.
- Holly goes to fill up on magic, Artemis kidnaps her.
- Root follows Holly's tracker, which leads to a boat, which Artemis then blows up and Root has a very very close call. This is how they find Artemis, so can't be taken out.
- The LEP find Artemis and go to Fowl Manor. They try to attack the manor, and Butler makes short work of them. I can't remember if the time-stop is already in effect at this point, but somewhere along the lines the fairies put a time-stop on Fowl Manor.
- Root tries to negotiate with Artemis, which results in Root being very angry and Artemis being very smug. He asks for whatever his amount of gold is, which he figures is a small price to pay for not compromising fairy culture.
- Somewhere along the line Holly escapes from her cell. She still can't leave the house due to magic rules about human dwellings, but she can wreak some havoc.
- Root sends in Mulch Diggums, who retrieves the Book and then fakes his own death.
- Root loses control of the situation as Cudgeon is instated as Acting Commander. He sends in a troll to provoke a call for help, which the fairies could then interpret as an invitation, which they need to enter the dwelling.
- The troll destroys half the manor, and essentially kills Butler, except that Holly healed him at the last minute, and then Butler sends the troll sprawling. No call for help.
- Cudgeon is fired. Root sends in the gold for Holly to come back, then planning to throw in a bio-bomb which would kill everyone there but leave the manor intact, which would leave the fairies free to stroll in there and recollect their gold.
- Holly is sent out.
- Artemis feeds everyone left in the manor (including himself) a sedative.
- The bio-bomb gets detonated.
- The fairies still can't enter because Artemis and Co. are still alive. The sedative let them escape the time-field, and therefore the bio-bomb, which means that the fairies lost.
- Holly has healed Artemis's mother of her crippling depression for half the ransom, so that has to show up.
And that's only Book 1! The bare essentials, I swear! Can't cut out Cudgeon because he's the reason for the B'wa Kell Rebellion in Book 2; can't cut out Mulch because he shows up in every single story and is the only reason a lot of things are even possible. Can't cut out Holly's escape because Butler wouldn't be healed otherwise; I'm telling you, bare skeleton. If you don't think that could take up a whole movie by itself, you're crazy.
The second story involves:
- Artemis gets a ransom note from the Russian Mafia for his father.
- Holly discovers goblins illegally importing human technology to power illegal fairy weaponry, something far too smart for a goblin to come up with (the author WILL NOT let you forget that the goblin species are idiots by nature). She suspects Artemis. Nothing at all to do with a personal vendetta or anything.
- Holly takes Butler and Artemis in for questioning.
- Root interrogates them. Foaly interrogates them. Nothing. They know nothing.
- Artemis and Root strike an uneasy deal; they'll help find the human responsible for the illegal stuff if they help him rescue his father from the mafia.
- Butler finds the human and is nearly killed, but survives. The team heads off to the Arctic.
- As they're in the Arctic, they get attacked by a couple of goblins sent by Cudgeon and Opal Koboi, his partner in crime. They are, of course, instructing all the goblins and, unbeknownst to our heroes, orchestrating an entire rebellion underground.
- There's this whole thing where Root and Butler are trapped in a cave and Holly and Artemis have to get them out by jumping onto a train practically dripping with radioactivity. It's hard to explain, but it's this whole thing.
- Holly's finger gets cut off, which Artemis then helps her to heal.
- While all this is happening, Opal and Cudgeon have trapped Foaly, started the rebellion, blamed Foaly for it, and the LEP are losing the battle.
- Root and Holly realize what's going on (Foaly manages to send them a text from Artemis's lo-tech human technology) and head back underground. But the only way in would be to break into Koboi Labs, which is virtually impossible. Except Holly knows a certain con who can do it. One who faked his death.
- The whole incident with Root that I talked about earlier. I suppose that could be cut out easily enough.
- They find and trap Mulch Diggums so he can help them with breaking into Koboi Labs.
- After some seat-of-the-pants stuff, they break into Koboi Labs, leaving Artemis by the shuttle while the professionals do their job.
- Except now Holly and Butler and Root are fighting off hundreds of stupid goblins and Mulch is calling for help, and Artemis goes up to help him.
- Artemis infiltrates the main headquarters of Koboi Labs (by climbing through tubes full of plasma - it's this whole thing), which then allows Foaly to expose Cudgeon as the traitor he is. Cudgeon then puts a gun to Artemis's head, and then Foaly exposes Cudgeon to OPAL about what a traitor of an evil partner he is (he was planning to kill her), and then Opal proceeds to attack Cudgeon, which effectively kills him and knocks Opal out. So Haven is saved and stuff.
- Root and Holly head back up to the Arctic with Butler and Artemis to save his father, which they do (by shooting him... but not really.... it's hard to explain).
- Denouement: Artemis and the fairies have grudging respect for each other, Holly has her classic "spark of decency" line, Artemis participates in the first cool moment of his life (where he catches a coin which Holly tossed up in the air and shot straight in the center). Not essential, I suppose, but it's one of those things that are so loved by the fandom that if you don't include it you'll get in a buttload of trouble for it.
AND THEY THINK THEY CAN PUT BOTH THESE STORIES INTO ONE MOVIE.
They're going to have to either cut out half the things and change most of it (which, as I may have mentioned, would not be advisable since most of it becomes referred back to later in the series) or make it friggin' five hours long. Also not advisable.
I just want a good movie adaptation that also happens to be accessible. Is that so much to ask?
I just want a good movie adaptation that also happens to be accessible. Is that so much to ask?
There's so much more that could go wrong with this movie, though.
I do not know how on earth they plan to introduce Mulch Diggums and his special dwarf talents. There's just no tasteful way to do it for film, so far as I can see. He tunnels by unhinging his jaw, eating the dirt and rapidly ejecting it out the other end. And, like, his hair can be used as lock-picks. And his saliva hardens on contact with air. And can also be used as a sedative. And also is luminous. And his skin can be used as suction cups. Dwarves have so many gifts bestowed on them by evolution that they could take over the world if they would just stop getting arrested.
But the thing about that, is that these "gifts" play a huge role in the series. There's no way to get into Fowl Manor without Mulch, nor Koboi Labs, nor an uncountable number of other escapes/breaking and entering. But the thing is that it's easy to explain how it works in a book. Less easy in a movie.
OH. OH. OH.
IF THEY STAGE THE MOVIE AS AN LEP POLICE FILE
THEN THEY COULD EXPLAIN EVERYTHING STRAIGHTFORWARD.
ALSO EVERY CHARACTER WOULD GET A SIMPLE EXPOSITION AND PROFILE.
WHICH MEANS THAT WE'D SPEND LESS TIME ATTEMPTING TO UNDERSTAND THE COMPLEX CHARACTERS BECAUSE THE INFORMATION WOULD BE RIGHT THERE
AND MORE TIME FOCUSING ON UNDERSTANDING THE COMPLEX PLOT WHILE THE CHARACTERS JUST UNFOLD.
Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.
Yet another good idea that I will be unable to send to anyone.
WHY WAS I NOT HIRED TO WRITE THIS FRIGGIN' MOVIE?
WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE WAITED ANOTHER TEN YEARS SO I WOULD GET A SHOT AT IT?
But this is actually such a good idea. Because every character has a whole bunch of background that has to be set up to fully understand everything. Like the fact that Butler is Artemis's bodyguard for life because of the tradition amongst the Butlers and the Fowls. And that he's the third most dangerous man in the world. (If I remember correctly, the second most dangerous man in the world is his uncle, and the most dangerous man lives on a desert island and spends all his time meditating and beating up coconuts or something like that). Also the fact that Artemis Fowl is the head of a criminal empire, which makes his family filthy rich, but his father is missing presumed dead and his mother is suffering from depression. And he's a genius who believes in fairies. And Holly's the first female Recon officer on the force ever, which makes her subject to a lot of sexism. And Root is one of her only supporters. And Cudgeon and Root are lifelong friends. And Opal Koboi and Foaly are old college rivals. There's just so much background which is easy enough to deliver in a book but less easy to deliver in a movie. And this is all without including the beloved minor characters, like gung-ho Captain Trouble Kelp (infamous for choosing Trouble as his name when he graduated from the police academy - and also for the line "If you're looking for Trouble, you've come to the right place") and his brother Corporal Grub Kelp, who's a nervous, whiny little brat. ("But Mommy said!"). Hard to introduce since they're not terribly important, but they recur pretty frequently and become pretty useful to have already established.
But this LEP file idea. Then we could introduce everyone quickly and easily.
I'm brilliant.
If only I would just be HIRED TO WRITE THIS MOVIE
BECAUSE I GUARANTEE I UNDERSTAND IT A HUNDRED TIMES MORE THAN ANYONE ACTUALLY WORKING ON IT.
THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING.
This is the thing.
The thing is that most fans think they want a movie which is exactly like the book.
But that's not true. Because they're two different platforms which accomplish different things and have different strengths. That's why it's a movie ADAPTATION. And I realize that, and I'm not saying that the movie should be exactly like the book, because as a student of storytelling, I know that it shouldn't.
But I also know they're going to just botch this movie. They're going to just destroy it. Which makes me really really mad. Because it's such a good story, and they're going to tell it all wrong.
But I am qualified to know how to tell this story because I've read and re-read the series countless times since I first discovered it. My box set has served me well. I've thought about it at great length. Hell, I actually did start writing a screenplay for it last year, though I didn't get it anywhere near where I wanted it. But obviously, if I think about something for long enough then I eventually come up with the correct strategy.
But Michael Goldenberg isn't being paid to come up with "the correct strategy", is he? He's just being paid to pump out a script that the cast (preferably including Asa Butterfield - the kid is Artemis) can read. No disrespect meant towards Mr. Goldenberg, of course, but let's face it, he probably read the first two books only, if any at all, and doesn't at all know where the series is actually headed. Which is a problem, because the series goes on for another six books, and you need to frame the first story appropriately, knowing where characters like Root and Artemis and Butler and Holly are headed. Otherwise it just won't make sense.
I'm just really frustrated.
If you're just tuning in now, to summarize, I really hope the Artemis Fowl movie comes out nearly as good as the book was to read, but I'm not overly confident that it will. I've lived through a lot of crap movie adaptations of really brilliant books, and I fear that Artemis Fowl will just be another to add to the list. Which makes me very sad and very angry, but thanks to secretive Disney, I can't even pretend I'm doing something about it. Sigh.
I do not know how on earth they plan to introduce Mulch Diggums and his special dwarf talents. There's just no tasteful way to do it for film, so far as I can see. He tunnels by unhinging his jaw, eating the dirt and rapidly ejecting it out the other end. And, like, his hair can be used as lock-picks. And his saliva hardens on contact with air. And can also be used as a sedative. And also is luminous. And his skin can be used as suction cups. Dwarves have so many gifts bestowed on them by evolution that they could take over the world if they would just stop getting arrested.
But the thing about that, is that these "gifts" play a huge role in the series. There's no way to get into Fowl Manor without Mulch, nor Koboi Labs, nor an uncountable number of other escapes/breaking and entering. But the thing is that it's easy to explain how it works in a book. Less easy in a movie.
OH. OH. OH.
IF THEY STAGE THE MOVIE AS AN LEP POLICE FILE
THEN THEY COULD EXPLAIN EVERYTHING STRAIGHTFORWARD.
ALSO EVERY CHARACTER WOULD GET A SIMPLE EXPOSITION AND PROFILE.
WHICH MEANS THAT WE'D SPEND LESS TIME ATTEMPTING TO UNDERSTAND THE COMPLEX CHARACTERS BECAUSE THE INFORMATION WOULD BE RIGHT THERE
AND MORE TIME FOCUSING ON UNDERSTANDING THE COMPLEX PLOT WHILE THE CHARACTERS JUST UNFOLD.
Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.
Yet another good idea that I will be unable to send to anyone.
WHY WAS I NOT HIRED TO WRITE THIS FRIGGIN' MOVIE?
WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE WAITED ANOTHER TEN YEARS SO I WOULD GET A SHOT AT IT?
But this is actually such a good idea. Because every character has a whole bunch of background that has to be set up to fully understand everything. Like the fact that Butler is Artemis's bodyguard for life because of the tradition amongst the Butlers and the Fowls. And that he's the third most dangerous man in the world. (If I remember correctly, the second most dangerous man in the world is his uncle, and the most dangerous man lives on a desert island and spends all his time meditating and beating up coconuts or something like that). Also the fact that Artemis Fowl is the head of a criminal empire, which makes his family filthy rich, but his father is missing presumed dead and his mother is suffering from depression. And he's a genius who believes in fairies. And Holly's the first female Recon officer on the force ever, which makes her subject to a lot of sexism. And Root is one of her only supporters. And Cudgeon and Root are lifelong friends. And Opal Koboi and Foaly are old college rivals. There's just so much background which is easy enough to deliver in a book but less easy to deliver in a movie. And this is all without including the beloved minor characters, like gung-ho Captain Trouble Kelp (infamous for choosing Trouble as his name when he graduated from the police academy - and also for the line "If you're looking for Trouble, you've come to the right place") and his brother Corporal Grub Kelp, who's a nervous, whiny little brat. ("But Mommy said!"). Hard to introduce since they're not terribly important, but they recur pretty frequently and become pretty useful to have already established.
But this LEP file idea. Then we could introduce everyone quickly and easily.
I'm brilliant.
If only I would just be HIRED TO WRITE THIS MOVIE
BECAUSE I GUARANTEE I UNDERSTAND IT A HUNDRED TIMES MORE THAN ANYONE ACTUALLY WORKING ON IT.
THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING.
This is the thing.
The thing is that most fans think they want a movie which is exactly like the book.
But that's not true. Because they're two different platforms which accomplish different things and have different strengths. That's why it's a movie ADAPTATION. And I realize that, and I'm not saying that the movie should be exactly like the book, because as a student of storytelling, I know that it shouldn't.
But I also know they're going to just botch this movie. They're going to just destroy it. Which makes me really really mad. Because it's such a good story, and they're going to tell it all wrong.
But I am qualified to know how to tell this story because I've read and re-read the series countless times since I first discovered it. My box set has served me well. I've thought about it at great length. Hell, I actually did start writing a screenplay for it last year, though I didn't get it anywhere near where I wanted it. But obviously, if I think about something for long enough then I eventually come up with the correct strategy.
But Michael Goldenberg isn't being paid to come up with "the correct strategy", is he? He's just being paid to pump out a script that the cast (preferably including Asa Butterfield - the kid is Artemis) can read. No disrespect meant towards Mr. Goldenberg, of course, but let's face it, he probably read the first two books only, if any at all, and doesn't at all know where the series is actually headed. Which is a problem, because the series goes on for another six books, and you need to frame the first story appropriately, knowing where characters like Root and Artemis and Butler and Holly are headed. Otherwise it just won't make sense.
I'm just really frustrated.
If you're just tuning in now, to summarize, I really hope the Artemis Fowl movie comes out nearly as good as the book was to read, but I'm not overly confident that it will. I've lived through a lot of crap movie adaptations of really brilliant books, and I fear that Artemis Fowl will just be another to add to the list. Which makes me very sad and very angry, but thanks to secretive Disney, I can't even pretend I'm doing something about it. Sigh.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
The Voices Won't Let Me Stop Writing
I got a T-shirt this Christmas that said exactly what the title says. It is, of course, for humourous purposes, but it's a lot more accurate than I care to admit to my non-writing friends. Along with the other one I got, "Writer's Block: When your imaginary friends refuse to talk to you." Again, a lot more accurate than it really should be.
Anyways, I was recently sent a link by my friend who also considers herself a writer, and it was just full to the brim of useful links and helpful tips and advice for writing and character-work and dialogue and plots and all that jazz. Which made me very happy, and they are comfortably sitting in my Bookmarks bar on the top of my screen. But what interested me especially was the bits about dialogue.
I never considered dialogue one of my main problems as a writer. My favourite books were always rich with smart dialogue, and I liked to think that my work was reflecting my influences. Problems of mine may include pacing, character development, and believably writing from the perspective of a male, but it never occurred to me that my technique for dialogue may be faulty, excluding the fact that sometimes my work simply has too much of it.
But there is a problem, and I'm not sure how this was brought to my attention before, but my "You've considered this before" bells were going off all over the place when I was reading it. And the problem is that many of my characters have voices that are absolutely identical to each other.
This may not seem like a big deal, if the characters themselves are unique, right? Who cares if the super-girly nymph Juniper speaks like the sarcastic and tomboyish storm fernei Tempera, so long as the characters are clearly distinguished, right? Except it is a big deal. People will care. Because dialogue is hardly believable if two very different characters have the exact same speech pattern, is it?
Think about how real people talk. Me talking to my friend.... Alexis, for example, to use a direct contrast. Our personalities are very different, and our conversations reflect that. Just, for example, Alexis will often confirm statements others make by asking questions, like, "Did you?" or "Really?" whereas I will do the same thing by saying things like "No kidding" or "No way!" Subtle, isn't it? This is why it's so difficult to get a proper grasp on it.
I tend to answer questions by repeating the question, or at least part of the question. "Did you see that episode?" "I saw it." Ask the same question to Alexis, it will most likely be a simple yes or no. Isn't it interesting, when you really pay attention to the subtle intricacies of individual speech? Isn't it just fascinating? (Rhetorical questions. Another habit of mine.)
On a less... inconsequential scale, it's much more interesting to pay attention to actual conversations that happen. Some people may use sarcasm more. Some people may have a habit of trailing off, trusting others to figure out their meaning. The trick is not to think of what the people/characters are saying, but rather how they're saying it, and how that reflects their personalities. There is, of course, the obvious factor that someone who was raised, perhaps, in the south, they may have an affinity for the not-quite-a-word "ain't" or "y'all", and someone may be more profane, if they were raised in the environment for it. But it goes a whole lot deeper than that, doesn't it?
I have a list of quotes from one of my favourite book series, Artemis Fowl, which I have loved since forever at least partly because of its entertaining dialogue. Now, let's take a look at some of these quotes and figure out what they say about the character speaking it?
Let's start simple. Typical Foaly complaining: "I am so unappreciated." Simple, right? But, focus not on what he's saying, but how he's saying it. There were other ways to say it. "No one appreciates me." "Why doesn't anyone appreciate me?" And, really, if you wanted to get a whole lot more creative, a billion other variations of the same meaning. But he said it like this: "I am so unappreciated."
What jumps at me right away is that the subject of the sentence is himself. "I". Judging by my few half-baked attempts at variation, the subject could have been "Nobody". But that would take attention off himself, and Foaly doesn't want to do that. Typically, our loveable smart-ass is quite self-centered. The sentence itself reflects that, but also the way he said it. Make sense?
Let's try another one. This is fun. Alright, Julius Root is annoyed at Artemis for sticking his nose in where Root figures it doesn't really belong. So he says, "Don't you worry your juvenile head about it. Concentrate on growing some bristles." Again, there were other ways to convey the same meaning. "Be quiet, this has nothing to do with you" would have been one thing, and one can imagine the hundreds of other variations. So why does Root choose to structure his sentence like that: "Don't you worry your juvenile head about it. Concentrate on growing some bristles."
It's typical of Root, really. Rather than just instructing everyone to mind their own business, as he well could have, he chooses to belittle the people who irritate him or imply that he can't do everything himself. In this case, he implies that Artemis's theories are invalid because of his age. Every conversation is a negotiation for status, really, and Root prefers to gain his upper-hand status by making verbal jabs at the other person. Artemis tends to accomplish the same thing by demonstrating his superior intellect, which can entail, but isn't exclusive to, making a show of tediously explaining something to others what was immediately obvious to himself.
Alright, one more. Let's find an Artemis quote... Okay, one of my favourites from the first book: "Let us proceed under the assumption that the fairy folk do exist, and that I am not a gibbering moron." I think we can all infer what was going on in this situation, and once again it could have been said in a hundred different ways. So why did he frame his meaning like that?
It's very formal, for a start. Artemis usually is. "Let us" rather than "let's" already conveys that. Now look at the vocabulary used. Was it necessary to use all those words? Not at all. Did it characterize Artemis and the way he speaks? It certainly did, flawlessly. No one's going to mistake that sentence as something that anyone else said. That's not to say that other people in the series aren't intelligent enough to speak like that, they just don't. Artemis does. It's just... how he talks.
On a slightly different note of analyzation, the bit at the end, about assuming he's not a "gibbering moron", is clearly a sample of Artemis's brand of sarcasm, which in itself is obviously quite different from, for instance, Mulch Diggums or Foaly's flavour of sarcasm. This is mainly because Foaly and Mulch use theirs to poke good-hearted fun at the people around them, while Artemis uses his mainly to communicate how dumb the people around him are being, effectively shutting them up. Again, it's the negotiation for status.
Now, it's not only the way people say things - it's also WHO they're saying it TO. Artemis Fowl doesn't have a whole lot of good examples of this, because Root is always the commander and Holly's always a police officer and Artemis is always smarter, and there aren't a whole lot of situations where the roles change. But, if we go back to my characters Juniper and Tempera, then we can start really looking at the difference it makes when considering WHO they're talking to. Obviously lifelong friends Juniper and Tempera are going to talk to each other on a much more familiar level than they're going to talk to the newcomer, outsider, Randy. Tempera tends to be a lot more sarcastic, for example, and Juniper tends to be more patronizing, tones that they would never use with each other, you understand.
Aren't the intricacies of dialogue FASCINATING? This is why I decided to write a whole post on that alone. It's something very subtle that requires a lot of attention to detail to get properly. There are certain easy ways to get around some parts - for instance, assigning one character an extremely distinct way of speaking, such as, for example, a very formal and unnecessarily verbose pattern of speech - but it's not always that easy. Going back to my own characters, Juniper and Tempera, neither of them are going to talk in a way that's going to make someone raise their eyebrows, but they've got to talk DIFFERENTLY. You understand how difficult this can be after you realize that all these characters come from the same person's mind, and that person has their own pattern of speech that is very easy to simply leak into all their characters.
The problem, you see, is every character needs to be treated as a proper person, with their own voice, not the author's, and hearing every character's individual voice can be difficult sometimes. It's also what makes writing so gosh-darn fun. I can't explain precisely why that is. All I know for certain is that the jokes about "the voices" and "imaginary friends" are a lot more than jokes. In fact, they're basically the truth. To be a writer, you need to hear the voices. Take from that what you will, but it really shouldn't be a surprise to find out that most writers are a little bit insane. Facts o' life, guys. Facts o' life. I think you'll find most writers, depending on how self-aware they are, happily accept that. I, personally, prefer the term "eccentric", thank you very much. Cornelia Funke, writer of the indescribably wonderful Inkheart trilogy (and Reckless and Dragon Rider and The Thief Lord which are also wonderful) even says, and I quote, "So what? All writers are lunatics!"
So... quit judgin' me, alright?
Anyways, I was recently sent a link by my friend who also considers herself a writer, and it was just full to the brim of useful links and helpful tips and advice for writing and character-work and dialogue and plots and all that jazz. Which made me very happy, and they are comfortably sitting in my Bookmarks bar on the top of my screen. But what interested me especially was the bits about dialogue.
I never considered dialogue one of my main problems as a writer. My favourite books were always rich with smart dialogue, and I liked to think that my work was reflecting my influences. Problems of mine may include pacing, character development, and believably writing from the perspective of a male, but it never occurred to me that my technique for dialogue may be faulty, excluding the fact that sometimes my work simply has too much of it.
But there is a problem, and I'm not sure how this was brought to my attention before, but my "You've considered this before" bells were going off all over the place when I was reading it. And the problem is that many of my characters have voices that are absolutely identical to each other.
This may not seem like a big deal, if the characters themselves are unique, right? Who cares if the super-girly nymph Juniper speaks like the sarcastic and tomboyish storm fernei Tempera, so long as the characters are clearly distinguished, right? Except it is a big deal. People will care. Because dialogue is hardly believable if two very different characters have the exact same speech pattern, is it?
Think about how real people talk. Me talking to my friend.... Alexis, for example, to use a direct contrast. Our personalities are very different, and our conversations reflect that. Just, for example, Alexis will often confirm statements others make by asking questions, like, "Did you?" or "Really?" whereas I will do the same thing by saying things like "No kidding" or "No way!" Subtle, isn't it? This is why it's so difficult to get a proper grasp on it.
I tend to answer questions by repeating the question, or at least part of the question. "Did you see that episode?" "I saw it." Ask the same question to Alexis, it will most likely be a simple yes or no. Isn't it interesting, when you really pay attention to the subtle intricacies of individual speech? Isn't it just fascinating? (Rhetorical questions. Another habit of mine.)
On a less... inconsequential scale, it's much more interesting to pay attention to actual conversations that happen. Some people may use sarcasm more. Some people may have a habit of trailing off, trusting others to figure out their meaning. The trick is not to think of what the people/characters are saying, but rather how they're saying it, and how that reflects their personalities. There is, of course, the obvious factor that someone who was raised, perhaps, in the south, they may have an affinity for the not-quite-a-word "ain't" or "y'all", and someone may be more profane, if they were raised in the environment for it. But it goes a whole lot deeper than that, doesn't it?
I have a list of quotes from one of my favourite book series, Artemis Fowl, which I have loved since forever at least partly because of its entertaining dialogue. Now, let's take a look at some of these quotes and figure out what they say about the character speaking it?
Let's start simple. Typical Foaly complaining: "I am so unappreciated." Simple, right? But, focus not on what he's saying, but how he's saying it. There were other ways to say it. "No one appreciates me." "Why doesn't anyone appreciate me?" And, really, if you wanted to get a whole lot more creative, a billion other variations of the same meaning. But he said it like this: "I am so unappreciated."
What jumps at me right away is that the subject of the sentence is himself. "I". Judging by my few half-baked attempts at variation, the subject could have been "Nobody". But that would take attention off himself, and Foaly doesn't want to do that. Typically, our loveable smart-ass is quite self-centered. The sentence itself reflects that, but also the way he said it. Make sense?
Let's try another one. This is fun. Alright, Julius Root is annoyed at Artemis for sticking his nose in where Root figures it doesn't really belong. So he says, "Don't you worry your juvenile head about it. Concentrate on growing some bristles." Again, there were other ways to convey the same meaning. "Be quiet, this has nothing to do with you" would have been one thing, and one can imagine the hundreds of other variations. So why does Root choose to structure his sentence like that: "Don't you worry your juvenile head about it. Concentrate on growing some bristles."
It's typical of Root, really. Rather than just instructing everyone to mind their own business, as he well could have, he chooses to belittle the people who irritate him or imply that he can't do everything himself. In this case, he implies that Artemis's theories are invalid because of his age. Every conversation is a negotiation for status, really, and Root prefers to gain his upper-hand status by making verbal jabs at the other person. Artemis tends to accomplish the same thing by demonstrating his superior intellect, which can entail, but isn't exclusive to, making a show of tediously explaining something to others what was immediately obvious to himself.
Alright, one more. Let's find an Artemis quote... Okay, one of my favourites from the first book: "Let us proceed under the assumption that the fairy folk do exist, and that I am not a gibbering moron." I think we can all infer what was going on in this situation, and once again it could have been said in a hundred different ways. So why did he frame his meaning like that?
It's very formal, for a start. Artemis usually is. "Let us" rather than "let's" already conveys that. Now look at the vocabulary used. Was it necessary to use all those words? Not at all. Did it characterize Artemis and the way he speaks? It certainly did, flawlessly. No one's going to mistake that sentence as something that anyone else said. That's not to say that other people in the series aren't intelligent enough to speak like that, they just don't. Artemis does. It's just... how he talks.
On a slightly different note of analyzation, the bit at the end, about assuming he's not a "gibbering moron", is clearly a sample of Artemis's brand of sarcasm, which in itself is obviously quite different from, for instance, Mulch Diggums or Foaly's flavour of sarcasm. This is mainly because Foaly and Mulch use theirs to poke good-hearted fun at the people around them, while Artemis uses his mainly to communicate how dumb the people around him are being, effectively shutting them up. Again, it's the negotiation for status.
Now, it's not only the way people say things - it's also WHO they're saying it TO. Artemis Fowl doesn't have a whole lot of good examples of this, because Root is always the commander and Holly's always a police officer and Artemis is always smarter, and there aren't a whole lot of situations where the roles change. But, if we go back to my characters Juniper and Tempera, then we can start really looking at the difference it makes when considering WHO they're talking to. Obviously lifelong friends Juniper and Tempera are going to talk to each other on a much more familiar level than they're going to talk to the newcomer, outsider, Randy. Tempera tends to be a lot more sarcastic, for example, and Juniper tends to be more patronizing, tones that they would never use with each other, you understand.
Aren't the intricacies of dialogue FASCINATING? This is why I decided to write a whole post on that alone. It's something very subtle that requires a lot of attention to detail to get properly. There are certain easy ways to get around some parts - for instance, assigning one character an extremely distinct way of speaking, such as, for example, a very formal and unnecessarily verbose pattern of speech - but it's not always that easy. Going back to my own characters, Juniper and Tempera, neither of them are going to talk in a way that's going to make someone raise their eyebrows, but they've got to talk DIFFERENTLY. You understand how difficult this can be after you realize that all these characters come from the same person's mind, and that person has their own pattern of speech that is very easy to simply leak into all their characters.
The problem, you see, is every character needs to be treated as a proper person, with their own voice, not the author's, and hearing every character's individual voice can be difficult sometimes. It's also what makes writing so gosh-darn fun. I can't explain precisely why that is. All I know for certain is that the jokes about "the voices" and "imaginary friends" are a lot more than jokes. In fact, they're basically the truth. To be a writer, you need to hear the voices. Take from that what you will, but it really shouldn't be a surprise to find out that most writers are a little bit insane. Facts o' life, guys. Facts o' life. I think you'll find most writers, depending on how self-aware they are, happily accept that. I, personally, prefer the term "eccentric", thank you very much. Cornelia Funke, writer of the indescribably wonderful Inkheart trilogy (and Reckless and Dragon Rider and The Thief Lord which are also wonderful) even says, and I quote, "So what? All writers are lunatics!"
So... quit judgin' me, alright?
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
All I Want for Christmas Is...
Well, Christmas is here. In a day. It sure came quickly this year, didn't it?
There are lots of things I could talk about with Christmas. I could talk about the over-commercialization and glorification, and the fact that most of the traditional Christmas story isn't actually true and was moved to winter to counter pagan ceremonies. There are a lot of things I could talk about.
But the thing about it is, all that is very cynical. True? Sure. But also very cynical. And I don't consider myself a cynical person. I am, however, honest.
And quite honestly, I really don't care that Christmas is all about commercializing everything. I love buying my friends and family presents that I'd overheard them saying was on their list. Now I know I've gotten them something they actually wanted, and I can feel good in knowing that I gave them something. And yes, there is also a good feeling in recieving too. I wouldn't attribute that all to pure greed, though. Isn't it nice just to know that someone thought about you, about what you would like, thought about making you feel good? Isn't that in itself just a wonderful warm feeling?
Not to mention that without the commercialization of Christmas, we wouldn't have a lot of wonderful things. Things like the movie Love Actually, or It's a Wonderful Life, or A Christmas Story, or even How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Stories about love, about the goodness of people, about the payoff of helping others above yourself, about family, about the spirit of unity and kindness. It's not all complete bullcrap. Yes, some parts of it are completely manufactured to get you to spend money, and maybe in other circumstances I would be griping about it, but we're not spending for ourselves, are we? We spend for others. Because we actually care, that's why. And that's the heart of the reason that I don't even pretend to be annoyed by the commercialization of Christmas. Because if there was anything for society to be pressuring us to do, as far as things go, buying gifts for the people you care about is not actually an awful thing.
Just drown yourself in the spirit of love and caring and joy and all that jazz! Also, drown yourself in egg nog. That stuff is the nectar of the gods.
So, with that, merry Christmas to everyone. Happy Hannukkah, if that's your thing. Have a fantastic Kwanzaa. What did the pagans celebrate? The solstice? Have a wonderful that. And hey, if you choose not to celebrate anything, that's fine too. Just enjoy the goodness of others. This may be the one time of year where it's fashionable to be kind to others, and you shouldn't take that for granted just because it stems from a celebration you choose not to partake in.
Just something to think about.
So, I hope that by the end of the holiday season, your heart has been reasonably warmed against the cold of December. That is, if it's cold where you are. Of course, I'm here in Vancouver, so just maliki liki maka, I guess! xD
I can't think of a good way to finish this post, so here's some Love Actually for you. If you can watch this without smiling even a little bit, then I'm pretty sure you don't have a soul. Also, if you haven't watched Love Actually, you really have to do that. Now enjoy the spirit of love and Christmas.
There are lots of things I could talk about with Christmas. I could talk about the over-commercialization and glorification, and the fact that most of the traditional Christmas story isn't actually true and was moved to winter to counter pagan ceremonies. There are a lot of things I could talk about.
But the thing about it is, all that is very cynical. True? Sure. But also very cynical. And I don't consider myself a cynical person. I am, however, honest.
And quite honestly, I really don't care that Christmas is all about commercializing everything. I love buying my friends and family presents that I'd overheard them saying was on their list. Now I know I've gotten them something they actually wanted, and I can feel good in knowing that I gave them something. And yes, there is also a good feeling in recieving too. I wouldn't attribute that all to pure greed, though. Isn't it nice just to know that someone thought about you, about what you would like, thought about making you feel good? Isn't that in itself just a wonderful warm feeling?
Not to mention that without the commercialization of Christmas, we wouldn't have a lot of wonderful things. Things like the movie Love Actually, or It's a Wonderful Life, or A Christmas Story, or even How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Stories about love, about the goodness of people, about the payoff of helping others above yourself, about family, about the spirit of unity and kindness. It's not all complete bullcrap. Yes, some parts of it are completely manufactured to get you to spend money, and maybe in other circumstances I would be griping about it, but we're not spending for ourselves, are we? We spend for others. Because we actually care, that's why. And that's the heart of the reason that I don't even pretend to be annoyed by the commercialization of Christmas. Because if there was anything for society to be pressuring us to do, as far as things go, buying gifts for the people you care about is not actually an awful thing.
Just drown yourself in the spirit of love and caring and joy and all that jazz! Also, drown yourself in egg nog. That stuff is the nectar of the gods.
So, with that, merry Christmas to everyone. Happy Hannukkah, if that's your thing. Have a fantastic Kwanzaa. What did the pagans celebrate? The solstice? Have a wonderful that. And hey, if you choose not to celebrate anything, that's fine too. Just enjoy the goodness of others. This may be the one time of year where it's fashionable to be kind to others, and you shouldn't take that for granted just because it stems from a celebration you choose not to partake in.
Just something to think about.
So, I hope that by the end of the holiday season, your heart has been reasonably warmed against the cold of December. That is, if it's cold where you are. Of course, I'm here in Vancouver, so just maliki liki maka, I guess! xD
I can't think of a good way to finish this post, so here's some Love Actually for you. If you can watch this without smiling even a little bit, then I'm pretty sure you don't have a soul. Also, if you haven't watched Love Actually, you really have to do that. Now enjoy the spirit of love and Christmas.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Artemis Fowl: a Series of Thoughts, a Saga of Feels
[This one's really freakin' long. Brace yourself]
Artemis Fowl.
Artemis Fowl.
That is a series of books that I loved when I was in grade five.
And I still love to this day.
I always feel a little embarrassed, because when people ask about my favourite books, I say Misery, Duma Key, Hitchhiker's Guide, and oh yeah, Artemis Fowl. It was written for ten year olds, which is why everyone looks at me funny after I say it, but oh my god, the series is brilliant. I have accidentally (but inevitably) fallen back into the series for what is umpteenth time of an uncountable number of times in my life, but I always find myself burning the midnight oil to finish the book I've already read a hundred times previously. So, this is the obligatory rant associated with it.
General plot summary:
Artemis Fowl the Second, son of Artemis Fowl Senior, an irish crime lord with a large fortune gained by means that were mostly illegal. Except Artemis Fowl Senior got attacked by the russian mafia and is now missing, presumed dead, somewhere in the arctic, and Angeline Fowl, the wife, has basically gone insane with grief, to the point where she sometimes does not even recognize her own son. This leaves Artemis Fowl the Second, who is twelve years old, in charge of running the family business. However, the Fowl estate and fortune is not in incapable hands; it just so happens that this particular twelve year old is a genius and a criminal mastermind (I think one of the examples, besides the action packed adventures, is that he beat the world chess champion in six moves). It also happens that he's at just the in-between age where he's young enough to believe in fairies and magic, but old enough to want to exploit it (which is what his father taught him anyways; Aurum est potestas is the Fowl family motto, which means Gold is power). Fairies are real, of course. They live under the earth's crust, away from the rampant plague of humans destroying the world with violence and pollution and all manner of things. And in Haven City, the main capital of the fairy world, there is a woman police officer named Holly Short, a captain in the LEP (Lower Elements Police). Because she's a recon officer, this makes her a LEPrecon. Get it? LEPrecon? Like leprechaun? I friggin' love this series so much.
Anyways, long story short, Artemis kidnaps Holly and holds her ransom for fairy gold. After a lot of fighting, sieges, threats and underhanded schemes from both sides, Artemis manages to outsmart the fairies - which is not easy, considering they're at the very least fifty years beyond our technology, and also have magic, and..... various other specials skills. I don't want to spoil too much, but you know me. I'm going to go ahead and spoil it anyways.
The main players in the series are, of course, Artemis, his bodyguard/servant/one man army who is aptly called Butler (that's like, legit his name though), Holly Short, the LEP technical consultant Foaly (who is a centaur so he's called Foaly hardy har har), who is even a match for Artemis intellectually, LEP Commander Julius Root, and the kleptomaniac dwarf Mulch Diggums. Also appearing is Butler's sister, Juliet, and the recurring villain of the hour, the evil pixie Opal Koboi, who also happens to be a genius. Literally, by the end of the series there are five geniuses running around saving/destroying the world (Artemis, Foaly, Opal, the nemesis-turned-ally Minerva, and Artemis's little brother Myles).
First thing I loved about the series: it was clever. I mean, LEPrecon? HOW did they come up with that? Freakin' brilliant. Not to mention all of Artemis's outlandish, but genius and impressively believable plans. Amazing.
Second thing: if you know me, you know I love to laugh. Humour is something I love to constantly surround myself with, and something that has huge value to me. And the sense of humour in these books is flipping fantastic. Every single character has a smart aleck mouth on them that'll make you laugh out loud, from Artemis's withering brand of sarcasm to Holly's dryness, to Foaly delighting in his own annoyingness to Root's overly-macho routine, to Mulch's delight in having people hate him. Even Butler gets a quip in here and there. Just hilarious.
There was an exchange I read in one of the short stories that the author wrote along with the eight books, and it made me literally laugh out loud. It's Holly's initiation into the LEPrecon unit, and she's the first female in, so Root is skeptical. And he says,
"You have twenty minutes to cry, or pray, or whatever it is you females do. Then I'm comin' a-callin'."
to which Holly replies:
"Yessir. I'm going to start crying presently. Soon as you're over the horizon."
Methinks that was probably funnier in the story.
Oh, that story also included Root's brilliant line:
"Would you shut your trap? I'm trying to swallow my pride here!" Another line that made me literally laugh out loud.
Or how about when Artemis is trying to teach his little brothers how to order food in french, and little three-year-old Myles calls him a simpleton? These geniuses are just the best.
OH OH or how about when Artemis and Minerva first talk, and they go into this whole "UGH no one understands my intellectual jokes, it's so hard being a genius" conversation. Butler'd already been making jokes that Minerva was Artemis's girlfriend (to which the response was generally, "Wow, real mature Butler"), and as Artemis gets off the phone, Butler says, "So, how'd your first real conversation with a female go?" and Artemis replies with sarcasm to drown in, "Fabulous. We're planning a June wedding." Just cracks me up everytime.
Now, the series is obviously about growing up and stuff, which Artemis does - he goes from kidnapping fairies (and nearly killing a few of them) in book one to sacrificing his own life to save the human race in book eight. Pretty dramatic change. And I heartily appreciate that side of the series.
But what interests me more about the series is that it's about love. Family love, parental love, sibling love, friend love, everything except romantic love - and frankly, that's okay with me. We don't need romance in a book series about a teenage boy who considers wearing jeans and a T-shirt the most horrible of indignities and doesn't yet know how to talk to anyone without sounding pretentious and superior. I mean, this is partly why I love Artemis, I'm just sayin' that I do not begrudge the author at all for not introducing romance. In fact, I'm thankful. There are enough books about that stuff, and I've never cared about it.
ANYWAYS, my point is that this series is, more than anything, I would argue, about love. Yes, Artemis is nasty (not evil - don't be so quick to use the word evil), and the author has literally said that he named him Artemis Fowl because Artemis was the goddess of the hunt and Fowl sounds like Foul, so actually Artemis's name basically means foul hunter. BUT everything he ever does in the series is out of love. He only hunts the fairies not necessarily for greed (which he does undeniably have an abundance of - he was brought up to think like that) but to be able to have enough money to rescue his father who has been missing, presumed dead, in the arctic for over a year already. That is how much he loves his father. Also, let's not forget that at this point, his mother has been suffering from a crippling form of depression ever since Artemis Senior disappeared, and oftentimes his mother does not even recognize him. In the first interaction we encounter between Artemis and his mother, she says "Stop calling me Mother. I don't know who you are but you're certainly not my Arty." To which Artemis is forced to reply, "Of course, Mrs. Fowl. This is the last you'll see of me." Like, excuse me, my heart just broke. How does this happen within two chapters of a book?
TANGENTTANGENTTANGENT
I think my point was that, in spite of the fact that Artemis is not necessarily a NICE character (or even a happy character - now there's a thought), he is undeniably a LOVING character. This has motivated him to: heal his mother's depression (by bribing a fairy but still), rescue his father from the russian mafia, bring Butler back from technically being dead for twelve hours, bring a dead Holly back to life using complicated time-stream weirdness, go back in time in order to save his mother from a mysterious disease, and eventually sacrifice his own life. No, Artemis is not a nice character. Not in the least. He's conniving, untrustworthy, superior, greedy and generally just less than charming - and no, these qualities aren't very much altered even by the end of the last book. But you know what else he is? Loyal. Loving. Competent (which is very much an under-statement). His determination meter is equal to the circumference of the earth. And if you're in that exclusive circle of people (or People) that Artemis cares about, then he will quite literally go to any length to protect you. All in all, he's not quite the friendly conversationalist, but if he's watching your back then you're safe. Period.
I've talked a lot about Artemis's family (not nearly enough about the Butlers or the twins, but I may or may not get back to them), but now let's talk about Artemis, Holly, and the People. In book one, Artemis kidnaps her and holds her for ransom. Which, you know, is a less than endearing introduction, especially considering that Holly's a goddam LEPrecon badass that could have knocked the infuriating Mud Boy (the People's name for humans) to kingdom come if they'd not been on Fowl turf. As it was, Holly left Fowl Manor having to be satisfied with a punch to the Mud Boy's nose and half the ransom back in fairy hands. EXCEPT GUESS WHAT? There's another plot in Haven City that involves humans. And their number one suspect is Artemis Fowl.
Surprisingly enough, Artemis actually is innocent of something. Has no idea of this plot. But they manage to strike an uneasy deal where Artemis helps them with the plot (which turns out to be the first phase of the goblin rebellion) if they help him save his father from the russian mafia. The second book ends with Artemis and Holly not necessarily liking each other, but definitely having a mutual respect, something that Artemis had never anticipated - his intellectual superiority over most other people meant that most people he met were not considered worthy of his respect.
By the end of the series, Artemis and Holly had saved the world five times together, and there were definitely things that Artemis did along the way that seemed unforgivable, the secretive manipulative Mud Boy, but the important thing is that the two seem to at least understand each other and their motives. By the end of the series, they're good friends.
Here's a thought. Artemis and Holly are character foil (a term I learned in english class and have been eager to find examples of in my analysis practises). They exist as opposites in order to complement the other and highlight the qualities in each other that are important to the books. For instance, Holly's recklessness and split-second reactions to stressful situations highlight the fact that Artemis is able to foresee almost everything in a way that is very chess-player-like, and vice versa. Artemis has an irritating way of seeing everything in a very academic and detached way, leading his life with his brain. Holly is an extremely emotional character who often disobeys direct orders from her commander(s) in order to save lives, decidedly leading her life with her heart. This is at the core of what makes the two of them such a great team. Huh. Analyzing books is fun, isn't it? (This is what I am doing on my Friday night god I'm such a nerd).
Any other notable aspects of the book? Holly and Artemis, love, growing up, humour, family, hmmmm...... Okay. Let's talk about the villains of Artemis Fowl.
In the first book, it took me a while to figure out who the real villain was, because the conflict is undeniably character vs. character, and it pains me to say it because I love the kid, but Artemis is the villain of that book. And you know what? He was one of the most rounded and relatable villain characters I'd ever read about before. (How is it possible that a character so unlike any other can be simultaneously so relatable?) I've spent far too much time contemplating the balance between antagonist Artemis and protagonist Artemis (which is funny because in The Time Paradox, it literally becomes an Artemis vs. Artemis epic showdown) and after much debate amongst myself, I've come to the conclusion that Artemis is the villain of the first book, against the fairies. And an incredible and fascinating villain he was, too.
But it all kind of went downhill from there.
Don't get me wrong, I love the villains of Artemis Fowl. The ultra-narcissist megalomaniac Opal Koboi is to die for, Abbot the demon is wonderfully evil, Spiro proves that all businessmen are probably the devil, Turnball Root (recognize the name? He's Commander Root's older brother) is a positively delectable villain. It's all very entertaining.
My problem is that the well-rounded villain that I'd gotten a taste of in Artemis Fowl was not what followed.
Opal Koboi, the recurring villainess of the hour, a super-genius megalomaniac and probably more self-absorbed than Narcissus himself, is delightfully entertaining. Her plans are unpredictable, shocking, intricate, and positively operatic in the melodrama that ensues. Her narcissism has her thinking she can read people's minds, and only a character such as this, with such an overwhelming personality, can pull off the cliche "I want to watch them suffer, right after I tell them my entire evil plan". Which she does. On a regular basis.
As fun as she is to read about, she has no motive for her acts. Nothing to make her a rounded character. Just some world domination with a side of gruesome revenge, if you please. She's actually quite cliche. Which is, at least in part, what makes her so extremely entertaining, but from a character perspective it's a little bit of a let-down.
Spiro. Spiro was fun. One of those businessmen just booming with confidence, thought he was all that, and was able to pay a lot of people to make sure he was, in fact, all that. I mean, he didn't know what he was dealing with when he set out to kidnap Artemis. But he was a worthy foe, not by intellect of course, but because he had a lot of power on his side, and constantly had the upper hand. It's just the same problem though, isn't it? It's all about greed. And I know in my post about villains I said that my favourites were the ones who were just inexplicably evil for no real reason, which continues to be true (it's no coincidence that the book Spiro appears in is one of my favourites), but I do like characters with a few dimensions.
Abbot. Talking of inexplicable evil. The demon who took over the body of a warlock, killing him for no reason besides straight-up idiocy. Has got more brawns than brains - his mind is not where the threat lies. The threat lies in the fact that he's been ruling all the demons with a Hitler-like regime against humans and warlocks and every fairy that didn't continue fighting humans in the war. This is the only villain who seems to do the things he does for no conceivable reason at all. He's still fun to read about, don't get me wrong, because inexplicable evil is my favourite, but a lot of it seems oddly pointless.
Turnball Root. This one's my favourite, besides Artemis himself. This is for a few reasons. Firstly, backstory. He's the brother of Commander Julius Root, and was arrested and thrown in jail by him (and in one of the author's short stories, you see a whole bit between the two of them in which Turnball rants to Julius about jealousy and renders Julius helpless as a kitten, which is simply delicious). Secondly, he's not as smart or self-absorbed as Opal Koboi, which would make him almost comical, as Opal is. He is, however, quite smart enough to kill a lot of people from a jail cell thank you very much, and quite self-absorbed enough to be convinced of his own victory. If you've ever seen Speed, he's quite a bit like the terrorist in that movie. Not a genius, but quite smart. Not straight-coat, solitary confinement insane, but quite crazy enough to disregard a lot of lives to reach his own goals. One of my favourite interactions happen between Julius Root and Turnball Root in the short story:
(Turnball's about to feed a LEPrecon a spider that will literally tear it's way through his insides and kill him)
Julius (weak as a newborn kitten, can't even stand up without throwing up kinda thing): Turnball, no.
Turnball: I must. Think of it as already done.
Julius: Turnball. It's murder.
Turnball: Murder is a word. Just another word.
Thirdly: The guy's got class. You know those classy villains, that know just when to stop talking and just how to get the upper hand and has a billion cards up his sleeve, and never really loses his cool? He's like that. Which is awesome. Fourthly: Motive. It's not greed. It's not power. None of that stuff. It's simply about freedom. He wants to be free of the fairies that have been hunting him down for centuries (fairies live a really long time), and sure, maybe some revenge as a side-project, but his main goal is just being free. Strangely relatable, dontcha think? Fifthly: There was a quote from James Marsters, and I can't remember exactly how it goes, but it was to the effect of "In order to play a good villain, you need to find the love." Something I whole-heartedly agree with. Well, the author found the love with Turnball Root. His forbidden human wife, who he saved from a plane crash. They die together on her last flight ever. THESE are the dimensions I've been looking for. Not enough for us to totally sympathize with the villain, but enough to see that evil plans aren't the only things running around their minds, y'know?
Anyways. Villains. They're cool. Yeah.
Alright, let's talk Atlantis Complex.
In book seven of the series, Artemis starts showing actual, legitimate remorse for the crimes he committed in the past. Which is quite a bit of growth on his part. The problem with this is that, because he stole magic from the time-stream, this remorse shows up as the mental illness the Atlantis Complex, commonly in those with a guilty conscience, and generally exclusive to fairies, but because of his meddling with magic that didn't belong to him...
The Atlantis Complex seems to have symptoms of just about everything. OCD and psychosis mainly, and in extreme cases, multiple personality. It just so happens that Artemis has an extreme case. Which means that when he hits his head (after freaking out that all his friends were trying to kill him), he switches from our calculating, ruthless Artemis to whimsical and romantic Orion. (I'm just going to stop this right here - Orion. That's brilliant, isn't it? Because Artemis and Orion were enemies in greek mythology... the amount of mythological references in these books, man...) Orion has nowhere near the intellect that Artemis does - in fact, he's kind of a half-wit. Not that Artemis would be a whole lot of help either, considering he was in the middle of a total breakdown, but Orion is particularly unhelpful considering that Turnball Root is trying to kill everybody.
Now, mental illness of any kind is a touchy subject. There's a lot of things that are generally misunderstood about it - I am, of course, thinking of the whole "Have you tried NOT being depressed?" and "Doesn't it bother you that you have to take meds to feel normal?" mentality. And I was very happy to note that the author did not make these kinds of mistakes. Foaly and Holly don't blame Artemis for his illness, they just try to help him get through it. Not even willpower of Artemis's caliber brings him back to reality, because it isn't something he can help, can it? True enough. And then, in the end, he was seeing a psychiatrist, which is another move the author made that I approve of.
The only thing I would argue about is Artemis's "full recovery". Is it possible to fully recover from a mental illness? Well, I'm not an expert, but I'm fairly sure mental illness is something that can be... let's say, subdued, but never vanquished, y'know? Still, though, it never precisely said he didn't struggle, it just said that he'd recovered. So I suppose even there my argument doesn't have a whole lot of purpose. It didn't talk about it a whole lot after the seventh book, though.
Because after that is the eighth book, the grand finale of the series and holy wow stuff goes down. Full spoilers ahead, guys. Opal Koboi makes herself an ultra-powerful being, for one, and the second thing is that Artemis sacrifices his life to save humankind and HE DIES HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO ME.
I guess it's not as bad as all that. I mean, he came back at the end. He'd been dead for six months, and what happened was that Foaly made a clone, as Artemis had instructed him to, and Artemis's spirit was able to possess it, as Artemis had essentially been existing as a ghost for six months, held on this plane by pure willpower. My problem with this is that, though the spirit is the same and the clone is almost exactly the same, IT ISN'T THE SAME. For one thing, the clone has six toes on one foot. We can thank Foaly for that one. But that's not as big a deal to me. The big deal to me is that the clone has TWO BLUE EYES. Ever since Holly and Artemis went through the time-stream together, they'd switched eyes, meaning they each had one hazel (from Holly) and one blue (from Artemis). And Artemis having two blue eyes, it just, it just seems to completely erase the history the two had shared in the long and eventful journey of their eventually becoming friends. Not to mention the fact that Artemis had completely forgotten who everyone was. That's bad also.
Argh. It was a satisfying end to the series, no doubt, with Artemis pulling the greatest trick out of his hat he'd ever pulled and cheating death, PLUS the incredible amount of growth implied by his sacrifice. These are all good things. But it also left me very upset, and that may or may not stem from the fact that there are no more books in the series.
I need cheering up now. Let's talk about Myles and Beckett. That should do it.
Artemis unexpectedly finds himself with twin three-year-old brothers, and has absolutely no clue how to handle it. This is very amusing. And also so cute. It's obvious that Artemis absolutely and completely adores his brothers, but especially in the case of Beckett, he just doesn't get them. Beckett is an average three year old boy, who delights in mischief. However, his twin Myles is an Artemis in miniature. Absolutely hilarious. Calls people "simpleton" and complains that his favourite loafers are ruined, and knows the periodic table of elements by heart and speaks with the same vocabulary that Artemis himself does. It's just so cute. I love the twins. I wish there'd been more of them in the series.
So, I think I've milked the series for everything I wanted to discuss. That should do it. I'd just like to add that the title of this..... casual essay, applies to both this post and the series itself. Mind=blown.
Also, if they do end up doing a movie of this series, as they've been planning to for a good decade or something (and I think I read somewhere that the author is currently working on the screenplay?) THEY HAD BETTER NOT BLOODY BOTCH IT. I AM DEADLY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS. IF THIS TURNS INTO ANOTHER INKHEART THEN I AM GOING TO HURT SOMEONE.
Thought I'd throw that out there.
[Edit: I just found out. The movie's moved out of "development hell" into pre-production. They're melding the first two books into one movie. I've spent a good hour today rocking back and forth in a corner worrying that they're going to completely butcher the entire thing. I know they will, I just KNOW that they will...]
Now, I'm currently in love with this music video created for the Artemis Fowl tour that the author went on. There were two songs that I've found: Call Me Artemis Fowl, and Complex: Atlantis. I find myself really not liking the Call Me Artemis Fowl one, but Complex: Atlantis has grown on me quite a bit, and the video that they created along with the song is very compelling and, well, just awesome. So here ya go. So you can appreciate it as well.
There was an exchange I read in one of the short stories that the author wrote along with the eight books, and it made me literally laugh out loud. It's Holly's initiation into the LEPrecon unit, and she's the first female in, so Root is skeptical. And he says,
"You have twenty minutes to cry, or pray, or whatever it is you females do. Then I'm comin' a-callin'."
to which Holly replies:
"Yessir. I'm going to start crying presently. Soon as you're over the horizon."
Methinks that was probably funnier in the story.
Oh, that story also included Root's brilliant line:
"Would you shut your trap? I'm trying to swallow my pride here!" Another line that made me literally laugh out loud.
Or how about when Artemis is trying to teach his little brothers how to order food in french, and little three-year-old Myles calls him a simpleton? These geniuses are just the best.
OH OH or how about when Artemis and Minerva first talk, and they go into this whole "UGH no one understands my intellectual jokes, it's so hard being a genius" conversation. Butler'd already been making jokes that Minerva was Artemis's girlfriend (to which the response was generally, "Wow, real mature Butler"), and as Artemis gets off the phone, Butler says, "So, how'd your first real conversation with a female go?" and Artemis replies with sarcasm to drown in, "Fabulous. We're planning a June wedding." Just cracks me up everytime.
Now, the series is obviously about growing up and stuff, which Artemis does - he goes from kidnapping fairies (and nearly killing a few of them) in book one to sacrificing his own life to save the human race in book eight. Pretty dramatic change. And I heartily appreciate that side of the series.
But what interests me more about the series is that it's about love. Family love, parental love, sibling love, friend love, everything except romantic love - and frankly, that's okay with me. We don't need romance in a book series about a teenage boy who considers wearing jeans and a T-shirt the most horrible of indignities and doesn't yet know how to talk to anyone without sounding pretentious and superior. I mean, this is partly why I love Artemis, I'm just sayin' that I do not begrudge the author at all for not introducing romance. In fact, I'm thankful. There are enough books about that stuff, and I've never cared about it.
ANYWAYS, my point is that this series is, more than anything, I would argue, about love. Yes, Artemis is nasty (not evil - don't be so quick to use the word evil), and the author has literally said that he named him Artemis Fowl because Artemis was the goddess of the hunt and Fowl sounds like Foul, so actually Artemis's name basically means foul hunter. BUT everything he ever does in the series is out of love. He only hunts the fairies not necessarily for greed (which he does undeniably have an abundance of - he was brought up to think like that) but to be able to have enough money to rescue his father who has been missing, presumed dead, in the arctic for over a year already. That is how much he loves his father. Also, let's not forget that at this point, his mother has been suffering from a crippling form of depression ever since Artemis Senior disappeared, and oftentimes his mother does not even recognize him. In the first interaction we encounter between Artemis and his mother, she says "Stop calling me Mother. I don't know who you are but you're certainly not my Arty." To which Artemis is forced to reply, "Of course, Mrs. Fowl. This is the last you'll see of me." Like, excuse me, my heart just broke. How does this happen within two chapters of a book?
TANGENTTANGENTTANGENT
I think my point was that, in spite of the fact that Artemis is not necessarily a NICE character (or even a happy character - now there's a thought), he is undeniably a LOVING character. This has motivated him to: heal his mother's depression (by bribing a fairy but still), rescue his father from the russian mafia, bring Butler back from technically being dead for twelve hours, bring a dead Holly back to life using complicated time-stream weirdness, go back in time in order to save his mother from a mysterious disease, and eventually sacrifice his own life. No, Artemis is not a nice character. Not in the least. He's conniving, untrustworthy, superior, greedy and generally just less than charming - and no, these qualities aren't very much altered even by the end of the last book. But you know what else he is? Loyal. Loving. Competent (which is very much an under-statement). His determination meter is equal to the circumference of the earth. And if you're in that exclusive circle of people (or People) that Artemis cares about, then he will quite literally go to any length to protect you. All in all, he's not quite the friendly conversationalist, but if he's watching your back then you're safe. Period.
I've talked a lot about Artemis's family (not nearly enough about the Butlers or the twins, but I may or may not get back to them), but now let's talk about Artemis, Holly, and the People. In book one, Artemis kidnaps her and holds her for ransom. Which, you know, is a less than endearing introduction, especially considering that Holly's a goddam LEPrecon badass that could have knocked the infuriating Mud Boy (the People's name for humans) to kingdom come if they'd not been on Fowl turf. As it was, Holly left Fowl Manor having to be satisfied with a punch to the Mud Boy's nose and half the ransom back in fairy hands. EXCEPT GUESS WHAT? There's another plot in Haven City that involves humans. And their number one suspect is Artemis Fowl.
Surprisingly enough, Artemis actually is innocent of something. Has no idea of this plot. But they manage to strike an uneasy deal where Artemis helps them with the plot (which turns out to be the first phase of the goblin rebellion) if they help him save his father from the russian mafia. The second book ends with Artemis and Holly not necessarily liking each other, but definitely having a mutual respect, something that Artemis had never anticipated - his intellectual superiority over most other people meant that most people he met were not considered worthy of his respect.
By the end of the series, Artemis and Holly had saved the world five times together, and there were definitely things that Artemis did along the way that seemed unforgivable, the secretive manipulative Mud Boy, but the important thing is that the two seem to at least understand each other and their motives. By the end of the series, they're good friends.
Here's a thought. Artemis and Holly are character foil (a term I learned in english class and have been eager to find examples of in my analysis practises). They exist as opposites in order to complement the other and highlight the qualities in each other that are important to the books. For instance, Holly's recklessness and split-second reactions to stressful situations highlight the fact that Artemis is able to foresee almost everything in a way that is very chess-player-like, and vice versa. Artemis has an irritating way of seeing everything in a very academic and detached way, leading his life with his brain. Holly is an extremely emotional character who often disobeys direct orders from her commander(s) in order to save lives, decidedly leading her life with her heart. This is at the core of what makes the two of them such a great team. Huh. Analyzing books is fun, isn't it? (This is what I am doing on my Friday night god I'm such a nerd).
Any other notable aspects of the book? Holly and Artemis, love, growing up, humour, family, hmmmm...... Okay. Let's talk about the villains of Artemis Fowl.
In the first book, it took me a while to figure out who the real villain was, because the conflict is undeniably character vs. character, and it pains me to say it because I love the kid, but Artemis is the villain of that book. And you know what? He was one of the most rounded and relatable villain characters I'd ever read about before. (How is it possible that a character so unlike any other can be simultaneously so relatable?) I've spent far too much time contemplating the balance between antagonist Artemis and protagonist Artemis (which is funny because in The Time Paradox, it literally becomes an Artemis vs. Artemis epic showdown) and after much debate amongst myself, I've come to the conclusion that Artemis is the villain of the first book, against the fairies. And an incredible and fascinating villain he was, too.
But it all kind of went downhill from there.
Don't get me wrong, I love the villains of Artemis Fowl. The ultra-narcissist megalomaniac Opal Koboi is to die for, Abbot the demon is wonderfully evil, Spiro proves that all businessmen are probably the devil, Turnball Root (recognize the name? He's Commander Root's older brother) is a positively delectable villain. It's all very entertaining.
My problem is that the well-rounded villain that I'd gotten a taste of in Artemis Fowl was not what followed.
Opal Koboi, the recurring villainess of the hour, a super-genius megalomaniac and probably more self-absorbed than Narcissus himself, is delightfully entertaining. Her plans are unpredictable, shocking, intricate, and positively operatic in the melodrama that ensues. Her narcissism has her thinking she can read people's minds, and only a character such as this, with such an overwhelming personality, can pull off the cliche "I want to watch them suffer, right after I tell them my entire evil plan". Which she does. On a regular basis.
As fun as she is to read about, she has no motive for her acts. Nothing to make her a rounded character. Just some world domination with a side of gruesome revenge, if you please. She's actually quite cliche. Which is, at least in part, what makes her so extremely entertaining, but from a character perspective it's a little bit of a let-down.
Spiro. Spiro was fun. One of those businessmen just booming with confidence, thought he was all that, and was able to pay a lot of people to make sure he was, in fact, all that. I mean, he didn't know what he was dealing with when he set out to kidnap Artemis. But he was a worthy foe, not by intellect of course, but because he had a lot of power on his side, and constantly had the upper hand. It's just the same problem though, isn't it? It's all about greed. And I know in my post about villains I said that my favourites were the ones who were just inexplicably evil for no real reason, which continues to be true (it's no coincidence that the book Spiro appears in is one of my favourites), but I do like characters with a few dimensions.
Abbot. Talking of inexplicable evil. The demon who took over the body of a warlock, killing him for no reason besides straight-up idiocy. Has got more brawns than brains - his mind is not where the threat lies. The threat lies in the fact that he's been ruling all the demons with a Hitler-like regime against humans and warlocks and every fairy that didn't continue fighting humans in the war. This is the only villain who seems to do the things he does for no conceivable reason at all. He's still fun to read about, don't get me wrong, because inexplicable evil is my favourite, but a lot of it seems oddly pointless.
Turnball Root. This one's my favourite, besides Artemis himself. This is for a few reasons. Firstly, backstory. He's the brother of Commander Julius Root, and was arrested and thrown in jail by him (and in one of the author's short stories, you see a whole bit between the two of them in which Turnball rants to Julius about jealousy and renders Julius helpless as a kitten, which is simply delicious). Secondly, he's not as smart or self-absorbed as Opal Koboi, which would make him almost comical, as Opal is. He is, however, quite smart enough to kill a lot of people from a jail cell thank you very much, and quite self-absorbed enough to be convinced of his own victory. If you've ever seen Speed, he's quite a bit like the terrorist in that movie. Not a genius, but quite smart. Not straight-coat, solitary confinement insane, but quite crazy enough to disregard a lot of lives to reach his own goals. One of my favourite interactions happen between Julius Root and Turnball Root in the short story:
(Turnball's about to feed a LEPrecon a spider that will literally tear it's way through his insides and kill him)
Julius (weak as a newborn kitten, can't even stand up without throwing up kinda thing): Turnball, no.
Turnball: I must. Think of it as already done.
Julius: Turnball. It's murder.
Turnball: Murder is a word. Just another word.
Thirdly: The guy's got class. You know those classy villains, that know just when to stop talking and just how to get the upper hand and has a billion cards up his sleeve, and never really loses his cool? He's like that. Which is awesome. Fourthly: Motive. It's not greed. It's not power. None of that stuff. It's simply about freedom. He wants to be free of the fairies that have been hunting him down for centuries (fairies live a really long time), and sure, maybe some revenge as a side-project, but his main goal is just being free. Strangely relatable, dontcha think? Fifthly: There was a quote from James Marsters, and I can't remember exactly how it goes, but it was to the effect of "In order to play a good villain, you need to find the love." Something I whole-heartedly agree with. Well, the author found the love with Turnball Root. His forbidden human wife, who he saved from a plane crash. They die together on her last flight ever. THESE are the dimensions I've been looking for. Not enough for us to totally sympathize with the villain, but enough to see that evil plans aren't the only things running around their minds, y'know?
Anyways. Villains. They're cool. Yeah.
Alright, let's talk Atlantis Complex.
In book seven of the series, Artemis starts showing actual, legitimate remorse for the crimes he committed in the past. Which is quite a bit of growth on his part. The problem with this is that, because he stole magic from the time-stream, this remorse shows up as the mental illness the Atlantis Complex, commonly in those with a guilty conscience, and generally exclusive to fairies, but because of his meddling with magic that didn't belong to him...
The Atlantis Complex seems to have symptoms of just about everything. OCD and psychosis mainly, and in extreme cases, multiple personality. It just so happens that Artemis has an extreme case. Which means that when he hits his head (after freaking out that all his friends were trying to kill him), he switches from our calculating, ruthless Artemis to whimsical and romantic Orion. (I'm just going to stop this right here - Orion. That's brilliant, isn't it? Because Artemis and Orion were enemies in greek mythology... the amount of mythological references in these books, man...) Orion has nowhere near the intellect that Artemis does - in fact, he's kind of a half-wit. Not that Artemis would be a whole lot of help either, considering he was in the middle of a total breakdown, but Orion is particularly unhelpful considering that Turnball Root is trying to kill everybody.
Now, mental illness of any kind is a touchy subject. There's a lot of things that are generally misunderstood about it - I am, of course, thinking of the whole "Have you tried NOT being depressed?" and "Doesn't it bother you that you have to take meds to feel normal?" mentality. And I was very happy to note that the author did not make these kinds of mistakes. Foaly and Holly don't blame Artemis for his illness, they just try to help him get through it. Not even willpower of Artemis's caliber brings him back to reality, because it isn't something he can help, can it? True enough. And then, in the end, he was seeing a psychiatrist, which is another move the author made that I approve of.
The only thing I would argue about is Artemis's "full recovery". Is it possible to fully recover from a mental illness? Well, I'm not an expert, but I'm fairly sure mental illness is something that can be... let's say, subdued, but never vanquished, y'know? Still, though, it never precisely said he didn't struggle, it just said that he'd recovered. So I suppose even there my argument doesn't have a whole lot of purpose. It didn't talk about it a whole lot after the seventh book, though.
Because after that is the eighth book, the grand finale of the series and holy wow stuff goes down. Full spoilers ahead, guys. Opal Koboi makes herself an ultra-powerful being, for one, and the second thing is that Artemis sacrifices his life to save humankind and HE DIES HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO ME.
I guess it's not as bad as all that. I mean, he came back at the end. He'd been dead for six months, and what happened was that Foaly made a clone, as Artemis had instructed him to, and Artemis's spirit was able to possess it, as Artemis had essentially been existing as a ghost for six months, held on this plane by pure willpower. My problem with this is that, though the spirit is the same and the clone is almost exactly the same, IT ISN'T THE SAME. For one thing, the clone has six toes on one foot. We can thank Foaly for that one. But that's not as big a deal to me. The big deal to me is that the clone has TWO BLUE EYES. Ever since Holly and Artemis went through the time-stream together, they'd switched eyes, meaning they each had one hazel (from Holly) and one blue (from Artemis). And Artemis having two blue eyes, it just, it just seems to completely erase the history the two had shared in the long and eventful journey of their eventually becoming friends. Not to mention the fact that Artemis had completely forgotten who everyone was. That's bad also.
Argh. It was a satisfying end to the series, no doubt, with Artemis pulling the greatest trick out of his hat he'd ever pulled and cheating death, PLUS the incredible amount of growth implied by his sacrifice. These are all good things. But it also left me very upset, and that may or may not stem from the fact that there are no more books in the series.
I need cheering up now. Let's talk about Myles and Beckett. That should do it.
Artemis unexpectedly finds himself with twin three-year-old brothers, and has absolutely no clue how to handle it. This is very amusing. And also so cute. It's obvious that Artemis absolutely and completely adores his brothers, but especially in the case of Beckett, he just doesn't get them. Beckett is an average three year old boy, who delights in mischief. However, his twin Myles is an Artemis in miniature. Absolutely hilarious. Calls people "simpleton" and complains that his favourite loafers are ruined, and knows the periodic table of elements by heart and speaks with the same vocabulary that Artemis himself does. It's just so cute. I love the twins. I wish there'd been more of them in the series.
So, I think I've milked the series for everything I wanted to discuss. That should do it. I'd just like to add that the title of this..... casual essay, applies to both this post and the series itself. Mind=blown.
Also, if they do end up doing a movie of this series, as they've been planning to for a good decade or something (and I think I read somewhere that the author is currently working on the screenplay?) THEY HAD BETTER NOT BLOODY BOTCH IT. I AM DEADLY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS. IF THIS TURNS INTO ANOTHER INKHEART THEN I AM GOING TO HURT SOMEONE.
Thought I'd throw that out there.
[Edit: I just found out. The movie's moved out of "development hell" into pre-production. They're melding the first two books into one movie. I've spent a good hour today rocking back and forth in a corner worrying that they're going to completely butcher the entire thing. I know they will, I just KNOW that they will...]
Now, I'm currently in love with this music video created for the Artemis Fowl tour that the author went on. There were two songs that I've found: Call Me Artemis Fowl, and Complex: Atlantis. I find myself really not liking the Call Me Artemis Fowl one, but Complex: Atlantis has grown on me quite a bit, and the video that they created along with the song is very compelling and, well, just awesome. So here ya go. So you can appreciate it as well.
Hint: the empty white room? Is Artemis's mind. Boom. Also, there's a moment where it flickers between a serious Artemis and ruffled-hair smiling one, and that's the switch between Artemis and Orion. I just really enjoy this video in general.
Obligatory awesome quote from the book:
"If I win, I'm a prodigy. If I lose, then I'm crazy. That's the way history is written."
P.S I thought I was done but I discovered more Artemis Fowl awesomeness today.
Turns out that while the author was on his Artemis Rocks! tour to promote The Atlantis Complex, he was, first of all, making vlogs of his touristing, and second of all, touristing with someone who cosplayed as Artemis the whole time. This is hilarious because A) they stick out like a sore thumb - a grey-haired Irish guy wandering around with a teenager dressed in a suit and mirrored sunglasses - B) because the author is actually a really funny guy (he'd have to be, he thought up the characters Mulch and Foaly, didn't he?) and C) the guy who cosplays Artemis is really really good at staying in character. And all in all it's just awesome and is currently my favourite thing.
Okay, I'm seriously done now. I promise. Well, I can't promise anything. But I'm fairly certain I'm finished.
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