Author Linda L. Zern shares her thoughts about her upcoming book - Following the Strandline, including: its theme, plot, and what exactly a "strandline" is. Following the Strandline will be released next week.
You can read The Thousander Club's official review of the first book here: Beyond the Strandline.
Other Topics of Interest:
Mooncalf: Inspirations and Recollections
In Defense of Sad Endings
Saturday, November 25, 2017
Monday, November 6, 2017
|Inferno Squad by Christie Golden|
I'm very excited to play Battlefront II once the game releases and thought it would be fun to get a little more background on the main characters of that game's story. The book is readable and totally adequate but not very memorable either. Many books (and other products) like this appear to be written for the express purpose of promoting the main attraction, in this case the video game. A journeyman writer—someone like Christie Golden, who has a large and growing number of books credited to her—is brought in to bang out a competent but mediocre story to generate buzz and excitement among an already excited swarm of fans. From a marketing perspective it seems to work fine—why else would they do it?—but from a storytelling perspective it doesn't exactly seem to promote new works of literary art.
The focus of the upcoming Star Wars game, as well as the book, is Inferno Squad. The Empire's equivalent of special forces. It's an interest enough idea; although, Golden takes this elite team in a different direction than I was expecting. In Inferno Squad the book, the team completes a series of under-cover operations, which seemed strange to me since I had first envisioned these characters as being more akin to Navy Seals than to CIA operatives. I'm not sure the derivation worked as well as a straight Black Hawk Down-esque type of story would have. I think the book's story would have been more interesting had it looked a little more like Rogue One, which contained only small elements of undercover tactics. Due to the course the book takes, the story drags out a little bit too long, albeit Golden makes honest efforts in attempting to complicate the Inferno Squad members' relationships with the several members of the separatist group they have infiltrated. (The separatist group is known as "The Dreamers," which I thought was an absolutely ridiculous name). The narrative pay-off comes and goes but doesn't leave too much of an impression.
In addition, I think Inferno Squad the book shows the difficulty of writing a story—whether it's a novel or a video game—about the bad guys. Star Wars: A New Hope pretty well establishes that the Empire is evil—through and through. The other films in the franchise's history do plenty to reinforce this narrative truth. So how does a writer—and the audience for that matter—now approach a story about those fighting the Empire's war? How do you get the audience to like or sympathize with them? The approach taken in the book makes sense; to wit, the Empire provides order and therefore peace to the galaxy. Anyone who disrupts that, such as the Rebel Alliance, deserves and needs to be destroyed. Furthermore, the book doesn't show Inferno Squad systematically murdering Rebel Alliance members, who could presumably be Han Solo and Luke Skywalker's buddies, but targeting corrupt Imperial officials and an extreme separatist sect. This, I assume, is an attempt to make it a bit more palatable to root for the bad guys. It partially works but doesn't go far enough. I would have liked a more nuanced and meticulous exploration of the "order and peace above all" argument. Hopefully the video game handles this difficult storytelling balancing act more thoroughly and persuasively.
Star Wars: Battlefront II: Inferno Squad is adequate and forgettable. It did its job in that I'm just as if not more excited for the upcoming video game. It was fun to jump back into the expanded universe of Star Wars, and I hope for more stories a little better told. Star Wars is rich with potential stories of importance and consequence but also ripe for simple, marketing-driven fare. I would love the former but readers will probably end up with a lot of the latter.
Other Topics of Interest:
Reflections: Mass Effect: Revelation
Reflections: Ready Player One
Page-Turners: Black Hawk Down
Thursday, November 2, 2017
|The Caped Crusade by Glen Weldon|
I didn't grow up reading comic books. My brother had a few, but I never became involved in what I have realized is an almost infinitely complex and circuitous world of storytelling. Comic book stories are—for better or worse—bottomless and never-ending. Batman is no different. He arrived in 1939 as a hardly veiled rip-off of The Shadow but has become, especially in his most recent cinematic incarnations, to be a culturally inescapable figure. Weldon does a masterful job exploring each pivotal re-imagining of the character and the subsequent blow-back and controversy which is unavoidably bounded to every iteration. Every actor attached the role—from Michael Keaton to Ben Affleck—has faced the unmitigated ire of nerds, even though nerds' prophecies of disaster have had only a meager rate of fulfillment.
Speaking of nerds, The Caped Crusade helped me understand the "nerd" culture in a way I have struggled to grasp to this point. The Nerd Culture, as Weldon calls it, is remarkably protective of their particular vision of their favorite characters and those characters' inexhaustible stories. I on several occasions have been accused of a certain elitism because I spoke very negatively about the film Captain America: Civil War. I wrote and still maintain the film was a waste of time since the plot was essentially devoid of any real consequences for the main characters. No real danger. No real peril. No real story. The nerds defended their own, quickly disregarding my opinion as persnickety. I didn't appreciate the film for awesome it really was. How could I not love the airport scene (which I thought was boring)? How could I not love Black Panther's introduction? How could I not . . . And so on. What I didn't appreciate about these types of questions until reading The Caped Crusade is how invested comic book fans are in these seminal stories. In a very real sense, when you criticize the latest beloved Marvel movie, nerds see it as an ad hominem attack against them. This is why, for example, when filmmakers, studio executives, or anyone else supposedly gets the characters or their stories wrong (or when critics don't like a film that supposedly "got it right"), nerds can be especially acerbic and venomous in their response—personal attacks, wishing of bodily harm, death threats. Weldon rightly disparages such behavior as he chronicles it.
The Caped Crusade isn't great just because of its subject matter. Glen Weldon is a very smart and shrewd writer. The vocabulary utilized in this book rivals many historical works of non-fiction. I think Weldon understands his subject on a very conceptual level. There are no superficial conversations to be found here. Weldon writes about Batman with a highly proficient and critical eye —highlighting and exploring the good, the bad, the ugly, and the hilarious. When exploring an almost ubiquitous character like Batman, there is no shortage of material to discuss; yet, Weldon appears to find that which is most consequential and influential. The Caped Crusade is as thought-provoking as it is entertaining as it touches upon culture, marketing, storytelling, heroism, satire, and the fan(atic)s who support it all.
Glen Weldon's The Caped Crusade is about a lot more than an emotionally unstable man who dresses up like a bat, just as Batman is about a lot more than that as well. There are reasons we respond so viscerally to a character like Batman, the vigilante hero. And there are reasons some become almost perversely obsessed with him. Glen Weldon has written an excellent book which takes its reader on a fun and fascinating journey to figure out The Dark Knight and his caped crusade.
Other Topics of Interest:
Stories for Emma
Reflections: The Iliad
Reflections: World War Z
Thursday, October 26, 2017
The first of many episodes of What Are You Reading? Emma and Adam discuss one book they dislike and recommend one book they love. Enjoy!
Monday, October 23, 2017
|Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck|
Of Mice and Men isn't a particularly pleasant book to read. The book (novella, really) is short, tense, and bleak. The cruelty of the characters, including in many ways George's treatment of Lennie, contrasts harshly and—in my opinion—cynically with Lennie's simple but hopeful dreams. The outcome of the story seems to be broadcast from the onset, and the reader has to reluctantly drudge their way toward it. In the final analysis, the reader has to examine what Steinbeck's point might be, regardless of the book's levity or length.
And what is my analysis of the story? Not having read the myriad commentaries no doubt extant in academic and amateur literary circles, I find myself pushing back against a story like Of Mice and Men. If the story is perhaps about dreaming, hoping, and accomplishing both, what could we possibly glean from Steinbeck's sardonic story? There must be more to it than naked hopelessness. Or perhaps not? Consider a book like To Kill a Mockingbird, which hardly panders to its reader nor obscures the realities of injustice. And yet, the story, and of course its author, does offer some redemptive but tempered hope. I dislike Of Mice and Men not because it's sad, but because it's so one-sided.
Speaking of sad endings, author Linda Zern provided a nice defense to sad endings. Her book, Mooncalf, is tragic in a truly southern literature kind of way; yet, I didn't feel hopeless at the end of her book. If Steinbeck seeks to make his readers feel that way, then I would say he accomplishes exactly what he sets out to do. A book like Mooncalf stands apart and separate from a book like Of Mice and Men because it has so much more to say worth saying, which makes the heart-rending meaningful and affecting.
However brief Of Mice and Men may be, it doesn't lack in its ability to leave the reader feeling forlorn and forsaken. One could argue the story's merit by extolling its unflinching focus on "truth," "the real world," or other high-minded concepts, and I'm sure there is a reasonable argument to be made; I, on the other hand, hope (uh oh) for something else—not illusion or delusion. Just a different story, more than likely told by a different author.
Other Topics of Interest:
Pointless Stories and the Morality of Fiction
In Defense of Sad Endings