There are some things about story and basic narrative that simply piss me off. Sometimes its because I dislike a work and this is the case. Other times it is because I like a work, and I don't want to see it fall into obvious traps and and bad design that it may not recover from. Sometimes its simply that the trope itself rubs me the wrong way, that the trope can seem personally disrespectful to the characters and plotlines related to the readers, and that it can be insulting to say the least.
Disclaimer, of course. As those at TVTropes will say, Tropes are Not Bad and my thoughts may not hold up. However, there is a clear trend. A trend I would personally like to see stopped.
1) The Load: This character has to stop existing. Someone who adds nothing and is a liability. Now, this is very different from someone who doesn't fight or who simply does things that are non-combative in nature or considered a more "feminine" skillset, if we even need to use gender specifics-which I real we do not need to do. Every character in some level should have an ability to effect the plot and carry it effectively. No character should ever be useless in a plot.
2) Fridging. Using a character simply as a plot device through death for another character is sickening to me. Everyone should have their agency and their own weight to carry around in a story.
I'll add more to this later. I have a headache.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
Reading some comics, and....
I just wanted to give my thoughts on one of them. This one.
http://www.gabbysplayhouse.com/
Now, I can take some sense of angst or people feeling bad about themselves, and I also recognize that this world is rather screwed up. We live in a world of lies, and privilages we shouldn't have and stuff like that. This artist shows it well, and I do get the message he's trying to convey.
However, I do not and will NEVER agree with his stance on how he has done nothing or should just give up because he's damn lazy. Anyone who knows me is aware that I work hard on social skills and doing my jobs and coming through in the end. I'm not slogging behind-I'm thriving in a poor economy and I'm going to keep moving forward despite claims that it should being me down. I don't fall, and I don't stumble. I refuse to give up.
The main character of this comic sickens me. That he is willing to believe there is nothing to do in life, when there is for every human being. That's annoying and wrong.
http://www.gabbysplayhouse.com/
Now, I can take some sense of angst or people feeling bad about themselves, and I also recognize that this world is rather screwed up. We live in a world of lies, and privilages we shouldn't have and stuff like that. This artist shows it well, and I do get the message he's trying to convey.
However, I do not and will NEVER agree with his stance on how he has done nothing or should just give up because he's damn lazy. Anyone who knows me is aware that I work hard on social skills and doing my jobs and coming through in the end. I'm not slogging behind-I'm thriving in a poor economy and I'm going to keep moving forward despite claims that it should being me down. I don't fall, and I don't stumble. I refuse to give up.
The main character of this comic sickens me. That he is willing to believe there is nothing to do in life, when there is for every human being. That's annoying and wrong.
Friday, January 6, 2012
A request from a 'fan'.
Upon a lovely person, well-endowed with wisdom and-from what I've seen-a great deal of tension that I should be trying to do my part to relieve, I am attempting to show this person that I care about them. They already know this. They feel like they are talking to a wall, and I do not always provide enough proof that I am anything but. I admit my fault in these proceedings; while I am certainly moving forward, I do not always take the time to contemplate and recognize how my former reactions have colored perceptions.
While my belief that perception are things based entirely on the moment of which you speak to the person, not everyone sees it that way.
But first, a message; I apologize. I truly and wholeheartedly do so because I do not wish to cause harm or to cause grief in anyway. My intent in my voice is not to be aggressive or dismissive. My intent is to allow you to make your point without interruption from the peanut gallery like myself, who would come up with criticism which does not pertain to the situation at hand nor is pertient. I am attempting to also establish emotional control and social control, allowing others to speak their mind fairly and without interruption. It is also not my intent to blow off your concerns; I just found them unlikely in the context of the situation you had presented, and that I also want to find something to do in writing, but also because I am happy where I am at this moment.
Will it last? Of course not. By historical precedent, nothing ever lasts indefinitely. Education and certain statues certainly last a long time, to that I admit. My education in English Writing was to write, but it was also to set a proper framework from which to communicate with my family and loved ones. To improve as a young adult who is a man (Still young at 25 people. At least that's what I keep hearing.) and to self-advocate my feelings and thoughts to those that matter.
Also, it should be for the record that at one of my jobs, higher-ups are considering me for positions in social work with adults with AS. Perhaps counseling and motivational strength is where my true calling lies just alongside gaming? Only time will tell.
ANYWHO. Those who know who they are, this is for you. Two starting paragraphs I developed for a possible short story.
I'll add more to this as I feel the inclination, and at least expect more activity at this blog in the future. Halfbeard's HUD is a great site to write for, but I wanted to get some creative juices flowing. Reaction summaries and questions will abound this blog. Personal? Sure. Professional? I like to think so. Too personal? Yeah, nice try out there.
Let's get to the main event.
---
Max swung on the swings, rolling the peanut butter on his tongue from the Cup as his mother pushed him. He liked the swings because the cold, autumn air between the sides of his arms felt good. Also, there was only his mother and him. Ninny was too small to push in a big-kid swing, and while it would have been fun, Max knew Nanna and Pop-Op didn't like the cold weather. Everyone else was busy with big work or really-big school work. Max liked school; you could think hard and adults smiled at you. Then you thought and worked hard at home and they were still happy the next day.
Adults were more fun to Max. They always had more interesting things to say to one another, and you could learn stuff from them. They also knew how to play games better and read the longer stories in bed. Sometimes Max didn't quite get it, and things got loud and blurry in his head when he felt bad. Still, it was more fun. Kids like him were noisy and ran around a lot. Others were better because they liked games and encyclopedias and television, but they could still be pretty noisy. The running was okay, but they weren't careful. Max scratched his shoulder, but his mom slowed down, so he stopped. Kids weren't careful.
While my belief that perception are things based entirely on the moment of which you speak to the person, not everyone sees it that way.
But first, a message; I apologize. I truly and wholeheartedly do so because I do not wish to cause harm or to cause grief in anyway. My intent in my voice is not to be aggressive or dismissive. My intent is to allow you to make your point without interruption from the peanut gallery like myself, who would come up with criticism which does not pertain to the situation at hand nor is pertient. I am attempting to also establish emotional control and social control, allowing others to speak their mind fairly and without interruption. It is also not my intent to blow off your concerns; I just found them unlikely in the context of the situation you had presented, and that I also want to find something to do in writing, but also because I am happy where I am at this moment.
Will it last? Of course not. By historical precedent, nothing ever lasts indefinitely. Education and certain statues certainly last a long time, to that I admit. My education in English Writing was to write, but it was also to set a proper framework from which to communicate with my family and loved ones. To improve as a young adult who is a man (Still young at 25 people. At least that's what I keep hearing.) and to self-advocate my feelings and thoughts to those that matter.
Also, it should be for the record that at one of my jobs, higher-ups are considering me for positions in social work with adults with AS. Perhaps counseling and motivational strength is where my true calling lies just alongside gaming? Only time will tell.
ANYWHO. Those who know who they are, this is for you. Two starting paragraphs I developed for a possible short story.
I'll add more to this as I feel the inclination, and at least expect more activity at this blog in the future. Halfbeard's HUD is a great site to write for, but I wanted to get some creative juices flowing. Reaction summaries and questions will abound this blog. Personal? Sure. Professional? I like to think so. Too personal? Yeah, nice try out there.
Let's get to the main event.
---
Max swung on the swings, rolling the peanut butter on his tongue from the Cup as his mother pushed him. He liked the swings because the cold, autumn air between the sides of his arms felt good. Also, there was only his mother and him. Ninny was too small to push in a big-kid swing, and while it would have been fun, Max knew Nanna and Pop-Op didn't like the cold weather. Everyone else was busy with big work or really-big school work. Max liked school; you could think hard and adults smiled at you. Then you thought and worked hard at home and they were still happy the next day.
Adults were more fun to Max. They always had more interesting things to say to one another, and you could learn stuff from them. They also knew how to play games better and read the longer stories in bed. Sometimes Max didn't quite get it, and things got loud and blurry in his head when he felt bad. Still, it was more fun. Kids like him were noisy and ran around a lot. Others were better because they liked games and encyclopedias and television, but they could still be pretty noisy. The running was okay, but they weren't careful. Max scratched his shoulder, but his mom slowed down, so he stopped. Kids weren't careful.
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