The Marines Of Space and The Gamma Rabbit

     Sergeant-Brother Atticus’ mikel-ceramite encased foot crunched a skull into powder as he and Attendent-But-Well-Armed-Brother Ficus of the Rampant Bloodspiller Legion stepped out of the drop-pod’s boarding tube. The pod was clamped like a lamprey to a hulking structure their cruiser’s sensor-slaves had detected emerging into normal space. The lights on the end of their holy grenadier rifles cut through the darkness, revealing a grimy metal hallway full of green plants and dripping moisture.
     Atticus wiped away the sudden condensation the covered the compu-auspext screen hidden amongst the baroque decorations on his clunky and oversized power armour’s left forearm. It showed a breathable atmosphere with the Terran norm concentration of gases and no known bio-agents. A grime covered sign caught Atticus’ attention. He walked over to it.
      “It’s just as I feared,” vox-cast to Ficus after he’d freed the sign it from it’s layers of dust. “The Tradem Ark.”
     “But it was lost centuries ago,” Ficus said, his voice tinny and flat coming the ancient speakers in Atticus’ helmet. “How can there still be air, moisture, or even enough energy available to explain this.” He gestured at the verdant life growing all around them.
     Atticus resisted the urge to shrug his oversized armoured shoulders and instead held up a finger, looked at Ficus, and said, “The ancients built many terrible and wonderful things. Then they sent them out into the universe and the spaces between dimensions. We can only guess at their motives and the terrors hidden inside.”
      If he didn’t know for a fact that it was impossible for the antediluvian lenses of their power armour to move, Atticus would have sworn Ficus managed to roll his armour’s eyes. The Attendent-But-Well-Armed-Brother’s verbal response was the appropriate, “As the Corpse-King wills,” expected of every well-heeled warrior-priest superhuman in a Marines of Space Legion and especially of a Rampant Bloodspiller.
     “Good,” Atticus said before switching to the wide-net vox-caster. “Alpha team has penetrated the structure. Confirmed this is the Tradem Ark. Priority is recovering and protecting the IP database.” The five other teams scattered across the hulk via drop-pods acknowledged. Atticus switched back to a narrow cast and said to Ficus, “Let’s move out.”
     As they trudged through the narrow and weed-choked corridors, Atticus tried to rein in his imagination of what they’d find in the Tradem Ark’s IP database. It was hard. After all, the right Informatical Productionus (IP) template would equip his Legion with something unseen for millennia. It could give them the edge in a universe filled with the armies of the mutated traitor Disorder Legions, the Munching Hordes of the Tyrannasars, and the feral green Borks.
     It also wouldn’t hurt the Rampant Bloodspillers’ prestige amongst the other legions of the Grand Kingdom of Humanity Resplendent, making the Drunken Wolves’ recent acquisition of a rotary plasma cannon look like yesterday’s protein gruel.
     In an effort to quash his imaginings at getting one over the Drunken Wolves, Atticus focused on the proper quiet reverence for the Corspe-King a Marines of Space should maintain while remaining alert to the world around him. He was almost in the proper state of divine insanity when screams invaded his vox-caster.
     “Sweet Corspe-Of-Earth and Sparkly-Throne!”
     “Get it! Kill it!”
     “Arrrgh! My leg!”
     “Not the face! Not the face!”
     Before Atticus could cut in the line went dead. “All teams report!” he called out. Three teams reported back. Atticus consulted his compu-auspext. Both of the missing teams had been in the southern section of the Ark.
     “Brave Attendent-But-Well-Armed-Brothers of the Rampant Bloodspillers Legion, the enemy has shown himself,” Atticus said, doing his best to make his voice sound resplendent over the tinny vox-caster. “We must not fail to meet him with our utmost hate and firepower. Go forth to the southern section of the Ark, root out the foe, and let him taste our holy grenades!”
     The other teams acknowledged his command with a hearty “For the Corpse-King!”. Atticus motioned for Ficus to increase his pace and they were off running.
      “Very motivational speech, Sergeant-Brother,” Ficus said on the narrow vox-cast.
     “Yes, thank you, Attendent-But-Well-Armed-Brother,” Atticus said, unsure if Ficus’ tone was reverent or sarcastic. He hoped it was the former, but with the poor quality of his helmet’s speakers and Ficus’ flat delivery it was hard to tell. It also didn’t help that Ficus was new to Atticus’ section. The Sergeant-Brother hadn’t had the time needed to get to know him before the Ark had been discovered.
     “So…do we have any idea of what we’re getting into?” Ficus asked.
     “Whatever it is I’m sure six of the Corpse-King’s Marines of Space can handle it,” Atticus said.
     “Oh, of course,” Ficus said. “I know there is nothing we can’t handle, but wouldn’t it help if we knew what killed four of our fellow brothers in under a minute before we go charging in guns blazing?”
     “Attendent-But-Well-Armed-Brother Ficus, I do believe you are lacking in faith and hate. You are not showing the proper blood-thirsty attitude expected of Marines of Space!”
     “My apologies, Sergeant-Brother,” Ficus said with his high-protein pancake flat delivery. “I wish merely to know what I must hate.”
     “Better, Attendent-But-Well-Armed-Brother,” Atticus said as he nodded. “We must have faith in the Corpse-King and move forward, trusting him to show us the object of our hate.”
     It was good thing that increased lung capacity was one of the first enhancements made to all Marine of Space recruits.
     Atticus’ helmet’s external audio sensors picked up the sound of grenade-fire. The compu-auspext provided a vector and he and Ficus altered course. Fresh screams echoed through the vox-cast.
     “Report! Who’s screaming?” Atticus broadcast. “All remaining Attendent-But-Well-Armed-Brothers sound off!”
     The vox-caster remained dead.
Atticus and Ficus turned a corner to find the remains of four of their fellow Brothers splattered across the floor, walls, and ceiling. Amongst the shredded piles of power armour, muscle, and tissue, sat a tiny purple bunny licking its paw clean.
     “What the…how the…?” Ficus said while Atticus’ blood ran cold. “It’s a bunny.”
     “That’s no bunny!” Atticus said, slowly backing away as he brought his grenaider to bear. “That is the dreaded Gamma Rabbit.”
     “The what now?” Ficus said.
     “Scourge of the spaceways, demon from the space between dimensions, fluffy destroyer of worlds.” He held up a hand to stop Ficus from moving forward. “Walk away slowly. We need to get back to the ship and perform the rite of Purificus Nuclearas on the Ark from a safe distance. It’s the only way to be sure.”
     “So to be clear, we’re running from a fluffy bunny?” Ficus said with that damnable flat tone of his. Atticus had to resist the urge to grind his adamantium reinforced molars.
     “Yes, Attendent-But-Well-Armed-Brother, but slowly and carefully so that we don’t provoke it.”
At that moment Ficus stepped on a bloody shard of mikel-ceramite armour and sent it skittering across the floor. It struck the Gamma Rabbit’s midsection.
     The Rabbit looked up.
     “Uh, Sergeant-Brother, it’s looking at me,” Ficus said with genuine emotion for the first time. “Its eyes are glowing. Why are it’s eyes glowing?”
     “It was nice knowing you Ficus,” Atticus said before he turned and ran.

Let Me Explain. No Is Too Much. Let Me Sum Up.

I normally hate the idea of explaining a joke, but in this case it's kind of important. What I'm about to do needs context, otherwise people are going to think I'm not all there. (I'm not all there, but that's beside the point.)

Right after this post I'm putting up a story on my blog. This is the second time I've done this, and this time it's not because I failed to win a story contest. No, this is being done in protest of Games Workshop's recent actions in regards to self-published author M.C.A. Hogarth. They had Amazon pull her book Spots the Space Marine, claiming that they had exclusive rights/trademark on the words "Space Marine".

Now I'm not going to go off on a rant or in-depth commentary about this. That has been done by much bigger names elsewhere. No, what I'm going to do is post my own parody/protest story and invite you to read it and write one of your own. I'm a writer and this is my way of fighting against a gaming giant. Hopefully I'm not just tilting at windmills.

I'm also going to admit the story is a lot funnier if you're familiar with Warhammer 40K, the game system and miniature line put out by Games Workshop and their basis for attempting to claim domain over the term "Space Marine". To quote a friend, "It’s the marriage of Monty Python and Space Hulk, and quite honestly that’s a mash up that has been a long time in the making."

So please stay tuned for "The Marines Of Space and The Gamma Rabbit".

The Five Stages of Literary Rejection

Stage 1: Fear

Upon logging into your email:
"Oh, I just got a response from the editors of X about that piece I submitted."

Stage 2: Confirmation

Upon opening said email:
"And they rejected it."

Stage 3: Anger

"CURSE YOUR SUDDEN BUT INEVITABLE BETRAYAL!"

Stage 4: Depression

 "I'm a hack who will never sell anything! I should stop writing and move to Outer Mongolia to herd yaks!"

Stage Five: Acceptance, Rewrites, and Resubmiting

"Wait, this one actually has some feedback. I could totally fix this story up, and I haven't put anything in with Y in awhile..."

So I Finished Writing A Novel Yesterday

Yup, it's official. I've finished the first draft of my second novel length piece of fiction. At just shy of 120,000 words it is by far the longest single thing I have written.

Some of you may be asking, "second novel length piece"? Yes, this is in fact the second thing I've written that could be considered "novel" length. The first was...lets just call it a trunk novel and leave it at that. It was a good thing to do but a terrible thing by the end. It taught me an important lesson though, that I could sustain the effort of writing a novel.

The big difference between that first novel and the recently completed one is that my second novel can be saved. Right now it's a first draft, a rough first draft, but I've learned so much during the writing of it, from writing it and a few short stories, that I can see where I went wrong and how to fix it. Not so with the first novel. I couldn't see anyway of fixing that one.

Here's a few other things I learned with this novel:

1. Don't outline as much - I spent way too much time working on an outline that ended up getting hacked to bits in the end. Next time I write I put in the major things I want to happen in each chapter and then work out how to do it when it comes time to write.

2. Prepare less - Going along with point one, I don't need to work out the full cast of characters beforehand, since I'm going to create characters as I need them anyways and change them as I write. I should also only worldbuild as much as required and leave as much blank space as possible.

3. Record more - Since there's going to be less prep and outlining on my next novel I will need to keep a set of notes on the important parts. Also, I kept having great ideas for the next draft as I wrote. If I hadn't been keeping notes on them I would've given in to the temptation to start revising before the first draft was done.

4. Finish the draft - As stated in number 3, it was hard to resist the urge to start revisions. I'm not talking about going back and inserting a little bit of foreshadowing for a piece I wrote later on; that I did do. No, I'm talking about when I realized the major flaws in the first draft and what needed to be done to fix them. If I'd done so I'd never finish though. Thankfully I listened to cooler and much wiser heads and pushed on to the end of the draft.

So where does this leave me? I have a draft and a plan, and after a short break I'm diving back in to make this the best thing I've ever written.

No Geek Needs To Justify Their Fandom

Let's get this straight right from the beginning. No one has the right to tell someone else they aren't a true fan/geek/nerd because of X. That is some straight-up bullshit and I'm sick and tired of seeing it splashed all over the Internet.

I'm going to assume everyone reading this knows about the recent comments Tony Harris made about girls in cosplay at conventions. I'm not going to link or repeat his comments because, quite frankly, they are moronic and sexist. I mean, really, complaining about people having fun wearing a costume? What crawled up Tony Harris' butt and took over? (For an interesting theory on this please consult the following link - http://whatever.scalzi.com/2012/11/14/when-gut-boys-attack/ )

I've now had the pleasure of attending a few cons, including a day at FanExpo in Toronto. At almost every single one I've had the pleasure to make the acquaintance of female geeks, some in cosplay and some not. Every single one of these women has been intelligent, engaging, interesting, and a pleasure to be around. In short, they were beautiful in more than just the physical sense. (If you're one of the women I've met at a con and you're reading this then yes, I am talking about you.)

I hate to think what my life would be like if I held Mr. Harris' attitude. I remember my teen years when I was extremely shy and alone. I did not trust anyone, least of all the pretty girls. A large part of that was fear at being teased and laughed at because I was perpetually the outsider. Being a geek only made it worse, because when I was growing up being a geek was still far from cool. Thankfully, through a lot of mental anguish and honest self-assessment I've grown past these insecurities and understand that the pretty girls are just people with different plumbing, and that has made all the difference.

Should I be jealous of people growing up today, when just about anyone can watch a couple episodes of Dr. Who and claim they are a nerd, or who play one game of Dungeons and Dragons and say they're a gamer? Hell no! There's no declared point where someone becomes a nerd or geek. I may jokingly say, “Nah, your not a nerd until X,” but that's more because I want to encourage them to explore our great nerd/geek subculture more., and because I have an odd sense of humour.

Also, should I be angry/scared/upset over casual fans coming to conventions in cosplay, especially if they are attractive, female, and wearing something provocative? Uh, no. Nope. Negative. Niet. NEIN! And so on. These women went to all the effort of either making or buying the elements needed to put together said costume and have the confidence to wear it in public. My response should be to appreciate not just the fact that they look good in it but all the hard work and/or money that went into constructing said costume. And so should you.

Guys, instead of being upset that these beautiful women are “invading” what you consider your space, go over to them and say, “That is an amazing costume.” Now, I shouldn't have to say this but I will anyways, say this while looking into their eyes rather than other parts of their anatomy, no matter how pleasing to look at said anatomy may be. Leering is never a good thing. Most women don't like it, and even if they do it makes you look like a creeper to everyone else.

No, give an honest compliment and unless a conversation naturally springs up, such as you ask her why she chose that character and then get into an engaging discussion about comics or whatever, then politely walk away. This is for two reasons. First, hanging around a half-naked woman you're not talking can be seen as creepy. Second, she may not be in the mood to talk or have something on her mind. Either way, don't hang around for no good reason. Just because this particular girl wasn't interested in talking to you doesn't mean all the girls aren't interested, but if you give everyone the creeper vibe by hanging around or giving unwanted attention then you may make it so no one, male or female, wants to talk to you.

Keep in mind, no one, male or female, owes you anything. It's great that you share the same interest, but that's all that you do. A woman wearing a provocative costume is not wearing an invitation for your attention, the same as a guy in a superhero t-shirt may just like the way it looks and doesn't need or want to discuss comics for hours on end. Harassing anyone is not cool, no matter the circumstances.

Don't be afraid or angry about anyone new deciding to join geek fandom. Welcome them in politely and get to know them. Share what you're passionate about with them but not all at once. Give them time to acclimate and what you'll find that you've gained a new friend and are better for it.

Now some of you may be crying out from your poor black hearts, “What about the fake geek girls!?!” Ummm, okay, how do we determine they're fake? “Oh, you know, the ones that dress up all skanky in order to get attention from us.” Yeah, for various reasons this isn't a problem.

First, don't assume that just because someone is dressed provocatively, like what you would consider the stereotypical “booth-babe” that they don't know anything at all about who or what they're dressed as. They may in fact know more than you do and could school you on a few things. Instead of getting defensive and angry about it, ask questions. Learn something. Just because someone, especially a, gasp, girl, knows more about something than you doesn't make you less of a man/geek. A true man accepts his faults and ignorance and strives to be better.

Second, if in fact someone is dressed up in order to garner attention the solution is not to shout insults at them. Besides, how do you know that's their intent? Look, this is a really complicated issue. Some people do dress in order to garner attention, some dress because they love the character and see it as a way to honour them, some dress that way because damn they look good. (I'm still looking for the cosplay that does that for me.) If you think they are dressing to draw attention/make the geeks all hot and bothered for nefarious reasons, the solution is for you to ignore them. It's better for everyone all around. While you're over there pointedly ignoring them I'll be the one having a pleasant conversation with the lovely lady dressed head to toe in steampunk glory. See! Win-win all around.

Or, you know, you could give up on the whole idea of “fake geek girls”, or better yet dropping both “fake” and “girls” and realize, as I've been saying all along, they're people too. You'd be amazed at how things get better for you when you stop acting like a judgemental ass and have real conversations with people, when you stop seeing a woman in a sexy costume as an object to be consumed but as a person brave enough to expose not only their skin but themselves to ridicule and objectification to do something they truly love.

In the end, the rule is, as always, don't be a dick even though you may have one.

The Dork Review: Wreck-It Ralph

 Wreck-It Ralph is worth seeing in the theaters, especially if you good memories of arcades while growing up as a kid, or even if you have kids you want to drag along. However, feel free to skip the 3D showings and save yourself a few bucks. Unlike Despicable Me or Monsters vs. Aliens, the 3D for Wreck-It adds nothing.

Despite the non-use of 3D, Wreck-It Ralph is exactly what I expect and want out of an animated movie. It's big, bright, and gorgeous while telling a story that both kids and adults can enjoy. Ralph is the classic tormented bad guy, someone who is seen as evil because of circumstances rather than his innate nature, and dissatisfied with his lot in life. It's this dissatisfaction rather than circumstance that kicks off his game-hopping adventure.

This is a well written and voice-acted film, a point made much clearer to me since I decided to watch Exosquad, a cartoon from the late eighties or early nineties, before going out to see Wreck-It Ralph and the contrast is extreme. I'm glad to see animation getting the recognition it deserves and drawing in much better talent in both acting and writing.

As I said the writing in this film is spot on. A prime example of this is the term "Turbo". It's used a few times in context by characters who know what it means before finally being explained. The audience gains an idea of its definition but the full scope of its meaning, the sheer horror it represents, isn't fully revealed until later in the film and is done such that it doesn't feel like a gratuitous infodump. Additionally, there are twists that were foreshadowed but still ended up being a surprise, and emotional moments that tug on your emotions in ways you didn't expect. The same set of words is used twice in the film, once for comedy and once for pathos, and both times they fit.

Again, I really do recommend going out and seeing Wreck-It Ralph, especially if you have kids or know people who are kids at heart.

Con Report: World Fantasy 2012

It's rather amusing that as I'm writing this an episode of Castle set at a science-fiction convention is playing in the background, though the Castle episode has a ton of costumes while World Fantasy, the convention I was just at, had almost none.

That's not a bad thing, because from what I saw, World Fantasy is a writer (both established and up and coming) and writing focused convention as opposed to a media or fan-focused one. While fans seemed welcome to come, the programming wasn't designed with them in mind. There were only two panel tracks that ran simultaneously and all the panels were writing and publishing focused. Aside from the panels there were readings, an art auction, and parties galore. So it was more about the networking opportunities rather than the fan-boy craziness.

If World Fantasy had been my first convention I would have felt terribly out of place. Thankfully, it wasn't. I had a blast catching up with friends I only get to see at cons, such as the lovely Marie Bilodeau, the powerful-looking Derek Kunsken, and the fairy-like Leah Petersen. Honestly, hanging out with great people and having awesome, intelligent conversations about writing would have been enough for me, but there were also free books.

Yes, I said free. I easily walked away at the end of the con with a bag full of books, for free, that covered if not exceeded the cost of my con-pass. And not books from authors nobody has ever heard of either. There are books from George R.R. Martin and Mercedes Lackey sitting in my overstuffed bag right now.

The other great free thing at the con was the food in the con-suite. It's not unusual for there to be some munchies lying around, but the World Fantasy organizers had full-on family style buffet meals lying about. I bought maybe three meals the entire four days of the con, and those only because I wanted to hang out with new and old friends.

And yes, I said four days. This was the longest con I've ever been at and by the end I felt it. Saturday felt a lot like Sunday, and the time change right at the end didn't help ease the confusion at all. Having that extra day helped though, as due to Sandy huffing and puffing and nailing the East Coast, not everyone was able to make it on time. At least one author a friend really wanted to meet wasn't able to come due to cancelled flights, and another author showed up halfway through a panel since she'd arrived at 1:30 the night before and had understandably slept in. Still, the list of people who made it was impressive.

I had the opportunity to raise my Writing Excuses meet list to three since Marie Robinette Kowal was at the con. I picked up both her Jane Austen-esque books and has them signed and had the chance to tell her how much I appreciate the work she and her fellows do on their podcast. I also got to meet Brandon Sanderson for a second time, get a couple books signed, and found out that he and Mary and some guests had recorded a few podcasts that very day in Mary's hotel room. So, yeah for Writing Excuses on Canadian soil. Now if they'd just get all four of them together at a con in Ontario recording a public session...

The only element of the con that was disturbing at all I heard second-hand and did not actually witness. A friend who attended the awards banquet posted that there was a definite gap between the "established" authors and the fans and wanna-be authors. After hearing this, I was glad I decided to skip the banquet. I don't need to be reminded that I'm not there, yet, and it seems to be that this was a wasted opportunity to give the fans and the guys and gals on the lower end of the writing food-chain a chance to interact with those who've "made it".

One of the best experiences I had was at Con-cept a few years ago where I got to sit near Tad Williams and talk shop. It was a lovely experience chatting with Tad and his wife Deborah Beale. That, and meeting Marie Bilodeau, were the highlights of the con for me. I do hope that World Fantasy will try and find a way to better integrate the banquet seating arrangements in the future. Over four days there are plenty of opportunities to hang out with friends, but only so many times a person will get to hang out with the likes of Patrick Rothfuss or Mercedes Lackey.

So the only really negative thing about the con I ended up missing, meaning my experience was well into the positive. Much like Fan Expo, I would go again but as a professional or if it was within a reasonable driving distance.