Category: Genres


Editor’s Note: Welcome, once again, the lovely and talented Lori Janeski in another Novel Ninja guest post. This time, we present her debut fisk, as she decides to tackle the massive Social Fiction Warrior response to Avengers: Age of Ultron by targeting a particularly egregious essay.

I should add that Lori is Texan — and yes, even fisks are bigger in Texas. This one clocks in at over 13,000 words, enough for a good-sized novelette. Strap in, grab some popcorn, and warm up your mouse-using fingers, because you’ve got some scrolling ahead of you.

Enjoy!


If you ever want to learn how to make a complete and total idiot of yourself in front of the whole internet, just read this essay I found: “Age of Robots: How Marvel Is Killing the Popcorn Movie.”  If you’re not into being an idiot, you can go ahead and read it for its entertainment potential, because it is so utterly ridiculous, and yet trying to be completely serious and intellectual and failing miserably, that it will make you either laugh your head off, or crawl under a rock and weep for humanity.  Maybe both.

Now, the author, Sady Doyle, is allowed to have any opinion she wants.  That’s part of life.  I don’t have to agree with her, and she doesn’t have to agree with me.  But when you’re being this stupid while pretending to be smart, those of us who are not stupid have to say something to make sure you aren’t successful in convincing people that you are smart.  To borrow a quote from one of my favorite TV shows, “I respect your right to free speech, but not your stupidity.”

Omar

Normally, I try very hard to disagree with the argument, not attack the person.  This article, however, is such a piece of trash that my politeness went right out the window.  Doyle is so far beyond stupid that she has reached the status of “contemptible,” and doesn’t deserve a polite, intellectual discussion about the merits, or lack thereof, of Age of Ultron.

If you don’t want to read an angry article about how stupid someone else is, complete with the occasional vulgarity, then don’t finish reading.  Go elsewhere now.  You have been warned, so there better not be any nasty comments on the blog or Facebook about how mean I am.

Oh, and if you can’t guess, there are spoilers ahead.  I know Matthew has a spoiler graphic somewhere around here . . . aha!

Spoiler Warning

There.  If you missed that, you deserve your spoilers. Continue reading

EDIT: My apologies to anyone who got double emails and double trackbacks, or has had trouble with a broken link. The original version of this essay disappeared due to an infestation of drunk gremlins causing glitches. I had to rebuild it from the Google cache. If you are someone I linked to and have double trackbacks, I’m sorry for the minor bout of spam. One of those links won’t work now. 

I have an extremely pretty friend. Okay, that’s not unusual — a very high number of my female friends are good-looking, ranging from cute to gorgeous. This particular friend is drop-dead, traffic-stopping kind of gorgeous, with a smile that can stop hearts and a body that can cause accidents in the street. She’s a model, a singer, a dancer, a teacher, amazingly athletic, and huge fun to hang out with. Some of you know exactly who I’m talking about. A few times, it’s been suggested that we date. We both laugh.

Now, I don’t take offense at her laughter, not like I would from someone else. I mean, I’m a geek with a wheelchair; the only thing attractive about me is my brain and my paycheck. The latter is just big enough to be noticed and lacks at least two zeros as far as golddiggers are concerned; and the former, well, face it. It’s not enough. But I don’t find it offensive from my friend, because while we’re very close, we don’t fit well enough to even attempt a relationship, much less have a happy marriage. She’d have to go to her happy place if I start talking about anything other than where our interests coincide, which are actually in very few areas.

If you know me, you know I can’t possibly shut up about my interests. When I get invited to speak at conventions, I quite literally tell the panel coordinator to put me in however many slots he or she wants, because odds are I’m going to be talking to people all day anyway. I get a contact high from geekdom. The idea of even one date with someone who can’t stand to listen to me be enthusiastic about something is horrifying. I care for my friend like she’s family, and I’m there for her anytime she needs help, but we both know it wouldn’t be good for our friendship. So we both laugh.

Of course, the last time this happened, she threatened to punch me if I didn’t stop laughing. Sorry! But I couldn’t help it, considering the exact situation. But that’s beside the point. We’d both bore each other — even though we both deeply care about each other. Neither of us can be something we’re not.

This is why I hate it when people rail about “fake geek girls.” It’s also why I’m finding myself utterly perplexed to be called a fake geek girl.

Yes, I’m male. Bear with me. If it doesn’t already make sense, it will.  Continue reading

EDIT: Since posting this yesterday, several people have privately told me of more issues with Tuscany Press. Some of it has been anecdotal, but others have been verifiable; and it all adds up to an unpleasant picture. The editor-in-chief at Tuscany has told me that the essay I fisked in the following post is opinion and should not be construed as Tuscany’s stance, but he did not address the issue that it was approved by Tuscany despite being obviously wrong. I may do an update on this issue soon.

ANOTHER EDIT: I’ve posted an update on this situation here.

Tuscany Press has been my go-to publishing house to recommend to fellow Catholic authors. I’m associated with Chesterton Press, a smaller indie Catholic Press (my Novel Ninja business is separate and not exclusive to Catholic fiction), but Tuscany is a larger operation and can handle more submissions at a time. However, I’m no longer recommending them, due to a recent post on their subsidiary, CatholicFiction.Net, on why science fiction is evil.  Continue reading

If two highly-educated men are able to spend the time from midnight to 2am on a chat program dissecting a TV show, you know one of three things.

  1. It’s one of the best shows ever.
  2. It’s one of the worst shows ever.
  3. It’s a show with so much misused potential that those currently in charge should shut up and let someone else fix it.

Considering the show we were talking about is Agents of SHIELD, it should be obvious we’re talking about Option Three.

WARNING. Spoilers for Captain America: The Winter Soldier and “Turn, Turn, Turn” from here on out. Continue reading

Momentarily Found

While looking for something to watch, I found a short-lived (one season) mystery show called The Finder. It’s a quirky sort of show — the sort of quirky I associate with Doctor Who (particularly the Tom Baker years) — about a former Army officer who suffered a brain injury in the Middle East that has given him extreme paranoia, a lack of social inhibition, and an uncanny ability to find anything from just a few clues.

The show was (loosely) based on The Locator series by Richard Greener, but was presented as a spinoff of the TV show Bones (also based on a book series). I didn’t realize that until I saw the second episode and one of the Bones characters shows up (Dr. Sweets, evaluating whether or not the title character, Walter “the Finder” Sherman is insane and therefore able to still consult for the FBI and other federal agencies).

Now, I make no secret of the fact that I’m not much of a Bones fan. The title character for that show, Dr. Temperance “Bones” Brennan,” is presented as a scientist devoted to rationality and empirical study and cites logic more often than a Vulcan, but the writers obviously don’t know any more about logic than Gene Roddenberry. I happen to be very good at that, and I spot logical errors faster than a crooked lawyer finds loopholes. When a character is presented as logical and completely fails at it, I get frustrated. Since the whole show revolves around Bones and her ability to look at things rationally, the whole show is tainted for me. I just can’t stand it. Cheese grater to the skin.

The Finder is pretty much the exact opposite. Where Bones takes itself seriously, The Finder is the relaxed guy on vacation constantly insulting himself over mojitos. Where Dr. Brennan approaches things rigidly, Walter thinks nothing of doing things that other people would find crazy. Sometimes it’s deliberate; sometimes it’s because he really is crazy. He’s exactly as presented, and he acts completely in character. (I’d say I wish the creators of Bones had paid attention, but really I just want them to take a logic class.)

As a mystery show, it’s presented a bit differently. Each mystery revolves around finding something — an object, a person, or even an idea. There’s usually a crime involved, but that gets solved only incidentally as part of the finding. Because of that, while it uses the traditional mystery structure, the presentation makes it very fresh.

As much as I like the title character, though, he isn’t my favorite. He’s actually my third-favorite character. The best is Leo, his partner, legal advisor, and the owner of the bar The Ends of the Earth where clients can find the Finder. Leo is a lawyer, mostly muscle, and constantly quoting philosophy and legal codes. The actor (who unfortunately died of complications from a heart attack) has a perfect deadpan delivery that exactly counterbalances Walter’s Time Lord-style zaniness without making him seem stodgy or humorless.

The second-best is Willa, a Gypsy delinquent working at The Ends of the Earth to serve out the terms of her probation. Her Romani “family” serves as a sub-plot for the series, culminating in one-half of a cliffhanger that you can see coming a mile away and still has an emotional impact. She’s simultaneously more and less mature than Walter, impatient as only a teenager can be, and grows to be an important member of the loose “team.” I expected her to be a pretty flat character at first, but the show gives her a surprising depth that really makes you sympathize with her and realize how torn she is about her life.

The fourth main character is Isabel Zambada, a Deputy U.S. Marshal who serves as the law enforcement contact and Walter’s love interest. She wound up being the weakest character; not boring by far, but still not as good as the other three. Plus I kept noticing mistakes she’d make with her gun (including one error that I’ll place on the shoulders of the costume department but have no clue how they were so blind — namely, they put her small-of-the-back holster facing the wrong direction in one episode, as if she were left-handed).

The show is only thirteen episodes long, and ends on a two-tiered cliffhanger. I won’t spoil it, but all four characters’ lives are shaken, possibly permanently. The problem is that you’ll never find out what happens next.

If you’re looking for a different kind of mystery show, and particularly if you’re a Whovian who wants that zaniness on the off-season, head over to Amazon or Netflix and give it a try. Just remember, I warned you about that last episode. If you wind up watching the first twelve, you’ll want to watch the finale, and you’ll find the lack of a “next episode” button to be cruel and unusual punishment. Apparently, not even the Finder can locate the next season.

The show has mixed reviews, though. I’m obviously an instant fan, but let me know what you think in the comments below, or over on Facebook.

Quick Hit: Man of Steel

I went and saw Man of Steel today. Better than expected. Best treatment of Superman’s origin I’ve seen, which is a pretty low bar to cross to begin with. Best portrayal of Lois Lane I’ve encountered live, animated, or in print, which is a higher bar. (Perfect blend of helpless human and capable female.)

I’m not a Superman fan. By far. I just don’t like him. I don’t like his character, I don’t like his powers, I almost never like his stories. (In fact, the only good ones I’ve seen have Batman in them.)

It is, however, not a good Superman film. That climax . . . no. Sorry, no.

Farewell, Dominic Deegan

On Friday, May 24th, I read the last comic for Dominic Deegan: Oracle for Hire. It’s a long-running webcomic that I’ve read for years, generally five days a week. It started out as almost a gag-a-day comic with limited storylines and grew into an epic about the fate of the world. It centered on the title character, Dominic Deegan, a seer and oracle whose visions would lead him to one adventure after another. Whether it was as simple as solving a murder or as complicated as teaching a university class on divination, every story got better and better, widened the world, and deepened the characters.

I have a list of comics I go through regularly, and usually just open all the tabs at once and page through them in turn. Today, when I got to the Dominic Deegan tab, I found a thank-you message for the fans. On Friday, when I saw the 3,000th strip, I was thinking the end of the comic had sunk in. I knew it was coming, after all. But it’s actually only becoming real today, when I automatically loaded the comic and saw that thank-you. Eleven years have come to an end.

If you’ve never read the strip, I recommend trying it out. It may not be for everyone, and I’d put a mild maturity warning on it for some of my audience, but I obviously enjoyed it. The ending was also one of the best I’ve ever encountered: the perfect blend of confirming the end while acknowledging other stories, all in the context of showing a happy marriage. That might be a spoiler for some people, but we all like happy endings.

Farewell, Dominic, Luna, Spark, Gregory, Quilt, and all the rest. I’ll see you in the archives.

It’s been a while. Again. If you haven’t been looking at my Facebook page, you might have wondered what was going on. I’m supposed to review books, movies, talk about public appearances . . . yep. Stuff is coming.

I figure, though, I should give a quick no-spoiler review of Star Trek Into Darkness. It’ll be quick because I basically cannot say much without giving spoilers at all.  Continue reading

My friend, sister (well, by mutual agreement; who says you can’t pick your family?), and future co-author (next year) Elizabeth, of the more-popular-than-mine blogs Elenatintil and Confessions of a Seamstress, has been resisting one of my recommendations. Doctor Who? Check. X-Men? Check. David Eddings’ The Belgariad? Check. Firefly? Shiny! Girl Genius? SCIENCE!

But even as our other friends read more and more of The Dresden Files, she has steadfastly (if quietly) demurred. On Saturday, her latest response was “Maybe someday. But you have to read The Parasol Protectorate first.” Continue reading

Oh, now that’s a bold title, isn’t it? Editing your destiny! Except what I’m actually talking about is the Fate RPG.

(That’s right, folks. He’s back to talking about roleplaying games.) Continue reading