Applying a Wiki to the Muse: Getting Back Into Writing

I've been interested in writing fiction since around the fifth grade, when I drew some very space opera-esque comics incorporating elements of Tom Swift, Star Trek, and V--the genesis of the Exerda, in fact (and a story for another time--no pun intended). Over time, the quality of my prose improved greatly, as did that of my stories, and though I cringe a bit when reading back over some of my earliest work, I can pick up dozens of books from the shelves of my home library which are equally cringeworthy, if not more so.

But over the past couple of years, I've been in a bit of a writer's funk, tinkering with chapters already written, refining the prose and re-plotting the stories yet making little headway on actual new writing. I've come up with dozens of great new ideas, too, but really putting pen to paper (even if by proxy of the keyboard) has been a real challenge. Call it writer's block; call it too much focus on "perfect" prose and not enough ability to get past "good enough" and put off perfection for the revision phase; however you label it, the prose which had formerly poured off my pen now came in only the merest of trickles. Gone were days of penning 7,500 words in an evening (something I did once in a creative writing course in college, putting an entire story together the night before it was due); I was lucky to even get 100 words of new work done.

However, recently I have found a new muse, an effort which has gotten the creative juices flowing again and has enabled me to plow ahead with work I'd set aside months and in some cases even years ago.

With the upgrade to the Exerda.com Web server, I've been able to deploy several pieces of software which the old system--an Pentium 100 from 1994, if you can believe it; isn't Linux grand?--just wouldn't support. Among them is MediaWiki, the engine which powers Wikipedia, and the de facto standard for wikis (collaboratively-authored Web sites) on the Internet.

Though one purpose I've in mind is to create a simple bird encyclopedia which incorporates my bird photos along with some well-sourced information about each species (an idea I've been tossing around in my head for a couple of years), the wiki application which spawned this post and which has me so excited about writing again is an encyclopedia describing the worlds of my imagination and the characters which populate them.

Now, this isn't the first time I've worked on encyclopedic content for my writing; several years ago, I'd worked up a lengthy timeline for the Exerda science fiction universe, along with a "technical manual" including drawings and designs for the various starships, weapons, and so forth. But with the fantasy which has made up so much of my serious writing since, a static document simply won't cut it. And though hypertext has been around for a long time, the framework of a wiki--and its encyclopedic, article-style layout--makes for a simpler task than wiring together a bunch of static Web pages.

Already, in fleshing out characters and events, I've discovered nuances and plot elements which I hadn't considered before but which vastly improve the stories. I'd set aside at least two novels which the stories simply seemed to adolescent, the characters too shallow and their motivations stiff and jerky. Suddenly, I saw connections which flowed from the foundations I'd already laid, and realized that I could so easily eliminate this deus ex machina aspect and give that character a more prominent (and sensical) role. In other cases, stories for which I had only a vague concept took on the depth at last necessary to be written out.

Even crafting the encyclopedic "articles" about things like particular magical abilities helped me realize new facets, directions, and nuances for the stories into which they fell. What had seemed a simple role playing game-esque piece of magic gained a solid foundation and contributed to the story itself, rather than being a plot element, no longer a McGuffin at best and a hackneyed special effect at worst. Characters for whom the plot and story structure logically insisted an "ability" suddenly gained such, and in ways which made so much more sense than I'd thought through before. Having to make the connections and the consistency across characters and story components because of the wiki has really, really done a lot to help me both iron out the inconsistencies and drive new creative juices to flowing.

Before you ask: no, my muse wiki is not publicly-accessible, though when particular stories see their way into print, I do intend to migrate the appropriate content to a wiki which is. In neither case, though, do I intend to allow the use of one of the primary aspects of wikis: collaborative editing. (Sorry, these are my stories, after all.)

That said, however, I do have an idea bouncing around in my head for a truly collaborative writing project in which much of the groundwork might be done using a wiki, and perhaps even the final product, something like those "pass the story around" exercises but writ large and perhaps resulting in a more coherent piece of writing than the much-satirized tugs-of-war so often the end product of those exercises. Indeed, if I ever return to academia, I'd love to try that notion out... the field of "new media" has really grown since I wrote a paper on the issues of gender and online identity in MUDs a decade ago.

A Day of Writing

Beth and I had talked about having a weekend devoted to writing, where we'd dismiss all other concerns and simply spend the time writing.

I've written since perhaps the fifth grade or so, though my creative energies had sought an outlet well before even that young age. In recent years, though, I've been in something of a writer's funk, enduring what I can only describe as a lengthy case of writer's block, where though words came here and there, the overall story simply wasn't something that flowed from pen to paper (or the electronic equivalent thereof).

So today has been devoted to writing, simply sitting down without other concerns and interferences of daily life, and writing. I've managed to get caught back up to where I'd left off with my primary project and have completed a good set of edits as well. Overall, a productive day, and hopefully a stepping stone toward returning to the days when I could churn out 3,000 words in a single sitting. Baby steps!

A Nitpicker's Guide to the New Star Trek

I won't tell you the movie isn't enjoyable, isn't exciting, or isn't a slick, well-produced film.

I will, however, say the screenwriters should have their credentials revoked--then be hamstrung, drawn, and quartered. And the same repeated for the entire production chain who vetted and signed off on the screenplay.

For credulity's sake, how exactly did Kirk get promoted as a third-year cadet all the way to Captain? He skipped his fourth year (vaguely possible, I suppose, and something he did vow to Captain Pike he'd accomplish), skipped Ensign, Lieutenant (junior grade), Lieutenant, Lt. Commander, Commander ... all the way to Captain. None of the rest of the crew received a single grade promotion, mind you, yet Kirk got bumped up seven grades counting his final cadet year.

Besides the incredibility of that mega-promotion, Kirk is now deprived some of his most formative experiences. Recall that his backstory previously included a tour of duty on the U.S.S. Farragut, where as the weapons officer he felt he failed to prevent the death of his captain when the ship was attacked by a cosmic vampire cloud. Recall the death of his brother (who apparently doesn't exist in this alternate reality) at the hand of the plastic-dog-vomit parasites. Recall his many old flames (which is not to say his sexual escapades as Captain won't still happen, of course), including the one leading to the birth of his son. No friendship with Gary Mitchell and witnessing Mitchell's dehumanizing encounter with god-like powers. None of these things will have had happened. Instead, we get brash, even-younger-than-ever Kirk in charge from the get-go, without the tempering influence of the those experiences.

For the uber-nitpickers out there, I've also added a list of my first impressions of continuity violations which, though not critical to the story or characters so much, do deserve mention:

1. The planet Delta Vega (where Kirk conveniently encounters elder Spock) was previously featured in the retooled original Star Trek pilot episode, with a small, automated dilithium (er, lithium--the writers hadn't invented "dilithium" yet!) cracking station. A desolate world, yes, but not the Hoth we're given in the new film... and a planet near the edge of the galaxy, not so close to Vulcan that it must be a planet in the same star system!
   
2. Checkov had previously been significantly younger than Kirk and had idolized his captain; now, he's of a similar age and graduated from the academy ahead of Kirk.
3. "Transwarp" previously referred to the next generation of warp drive systems (recall the Excelsior in The Search for Spock); now, it refers to the ability to transport people through vast distances of space and onto ships in warp drive.
4. Spock had served with Captain Pike on the Enterprise for several years before Kirk became captain. Though they're introducing some aspects of the early Spock-Kirk friction in the new film, Kirk having "inherited" the aloof alien first officer he doesn't know how to deal with was something of a key point of the prior series.

I'll be back to this post in the future to put in a few more serious nitpicks.

Time Travel, Again?!: Or, Letting Blockbusterphilia Ruin Another Hollywood Retread

I watched the new, J. J. Abrams Star Trek reboot recently, and let me just say: wow. Now, that's not a good "wow," mind you, but rather a jaw-dropping, "What the heck were they thinking?!" sort of "wow." Though I mostly enjoyed the movie for its well-cast actors and slick production values, the story has to be one of the worst I've seen--and that's saying something for a franchise which had a long-lost brother of Spock searching for God in the center of the galaxy (thanks, Bill Shatner; we won't be needing your services as screenwriter again...)

In the interest of full disclosure, although I came to the theater with as open a mind as I could manage, I must admit to approaching it with misgivings.

Here's the thing: a lot of fans of the film are dismissing the Hostel-treatment of Star Trek continuity with the excuse that the film represents a "reboot," a leaping off point into a parallel universe where the franchise can go in new directions using the same beloved characters of the past (this is, mind you, a favorite tactic both of comic books and Hollywood retreads). That's all fine and dandy, in my book... but why resort to the cliche-even-for-Star-Trek plot device of time travel to do so? Of the eleven Star Trek feature films, this is the fourth time they've resorted to time travel in some form as a central plot device. Honestly, are they making Star Trek or Dr. Who here?

You didn't see mega-blockbuster film franchises like X-Men or Spiderman resorting to time travel or alternate universes to explain their departure from prior incarnations of their millieu; no, they simply presented the stories and said: "Here are the characters you (mostly) know, with a story you (mostly) know, done a new way." The James Bond franchise reboot has a few nitpicks, but they didn't try to claim 007 somehow caught the time tunnel to the future (wouldn't that be Austin Powers, perhaps?)

Removing the time travel plot device from Star Trek would have made for a far better film--not in the least through the ability to create a better, more convincing villain, rather than a retread of Malcolm McDowell's disappointing Star Trek: Generations baddie. A baddie, mind you, who when finding himself back in time prior to the destruction of his homeworld and the loss of his family, the very events that lead to his rampage for vengeance, and in possession of the very material (red matter) needed to prevent said destruction, wastes his time getting killed on stupid vengeance for which there's no need? Come ON, J. J.; give us a break. Surely one of the guy's subordinates might have said, "Hey, Nero, uh, maybe we ought to go prevent Romulus from being destroyed, eh?"

And what the heck is "red matter?" Please, I know Star Trek has always been more about the "social" sciences than about hard physics, but "red matter?" Get rid of the time travel aspect, and you can dispense with the ridiculous McGuffin of "red matter," too.

So yes, Trek fans: bash me all you like. But take a moment to ask yourself: had Abrams the intellectual honesty and regard for the fans enough to simply state, "Hey, guys, you'll recognize these characters, but keep in mind, we're starting over here," instead of dragging in a hackneyed time travel galactic Swiss cheese of a plot element, wouldn't it have been a better film? Wouldn't it have been far better to simply say, "Hey, here's Kirk's first mission, and how he meets the rest of his crew in our new take on the franchise?" Seems they could have come up with a far better story to tell, kept the blockbuster special effects and production values, and have come up with something other than refried summer movie mush.

Please Don't Go There: Hint of a "It Never Happened" Ending for LOST?

Throughout the years that ABC's hit series LOST has been broadcast, fans of the show have speculated heavily about the meaning and reality (within the show's framework) of the island and what it meant for the various participants to have been "lost."  Producers and writers have reassured the audience several times, steering them away from plausible explanations (such as the "survivors" of Oceanic 815 being dead, that the island is a kind of Purgatory, etc.), and have done well to back up those claims later (through evidence such as Miles, the "he hears dead people" guy who clearly stated he doesn't interact with the dead--meaning those "losties" on the island aren't dead, for example) despite tossing out a few more red herrings here and there, between the various potential literary and mythological references dropped.

And, we've been told, the show is not simply a dream or a similar cop-out; in other words, no, we are not due at the end of next season a deus ex machina revelation that the entire show took place in some autistic child's snow globe.

Yet there's a hint now that it might be possible for the events of the entire program to date to simply have never happened.  Lovable physics-nerd Daniel Faraday revealed in this week's episode "The Variable" (a play on a prior Daniel-and-Desmond-centric episode, "The Constant") that he has a plan to prevent the events leading to the crash of Oceanic 815--and thus everything that's happened over the past four and a half seasons--from having ever happened.  "You'll land in Los Angeles," Daniel explained.

Daniel, you see, had decided that the future could be changed after all, having changed his mind over the past three years, by realizing that the losties are variables, not constants, and as such can indeed cause events to unfold differently.  Get everyone off the island, then set off the hydrogen bomb ("Jughead") he'd previously talked the island's indigenous "Others" into burying in 1954, and he'd be able to prevent the "Incident" and its release of electromagnetic energy which caused Oceanic 815 to crash.

Now, I'm sure there are those on the island who'd see that as a perfectly acceptable change to history, and indeed, several who have died (Boone, Shannon, Charlie, Eko, Ana Lucia, Libby, Michael, the entire stock of Red Shirts 'R Us, Arzt, and even those "Poochies" Nicki and Paolo, just to name a few) would have another chance at life.  Yet none of the redemption and character growth we've seen our troubled, broken cast of characters go through over the six seasons of LOST would have happened, and indeed, the stories of redemption are one of the biggest reasons the show has been as successful and has remained engaging throughout its run.  All that would be wiped away, worthless, in an instant which never would have happened.  (I'll avoid consideration of the paradox we'd end up with, whereby it took the crash survivors to prevent the crash from having ever happened; at some point, you have to let it go.)

Of course, Daniel managed not to change history once already: he got himself shot by his own mother back in 1977--though some might question whether or not that was his intention all along or whether it was indeed "destiny" (though we never got a "You're my density!" from him, a perfect Back to the Future reference for his character).  So perhaps there's hope that history will not be unwritten, even though "Mr. Fixit" Jack seems driven now to implement Daniel's plan, left conveniently in his hands before Dan's untimely exit via a strange reverse-matricide (and if you think about it for a moment, kindly old Ms. Hawking sent Daniel back to the island, knowing her younger self would kill him...)

But despite the fact I still feel LOST and its current writers are among the best in television, I do have a bit of nagging fear that they've opened the door to erasing the events of the past several years, and hope they do not take that path.  It's a fine line to dance, between destiny and free-will, after all.

Is "Lost" the Best Show on Television?

I'm a huge fan of the television program Lost. Let me get that out of the way up front, lest that confession drive you off never to read another line of this particular post or perhaps my blog, period.

Having just watched tonight's episode, I must immediately say several things.  Holy freakin' cow, Batman!  Kiss Buddha on that fat belly!  Give Shiva a high-five times four!  Polish the Invisible Pink Unicorn's horn and serve up another dish of His Noodliness' marinara sauce in honor of the Flying Spaghetti Monster!

Not to neglect the younger crowd: O-M-G!!!

At times, the show has had some predicable writing and dialog, and it's been tough for the writers to juggle a cast with so many disparate and distinctive characters (even given the myriad of literally red-shirt-wearing extras killed off and main characters sacrificed in the name of love and DUIs, there are quite a few more members of the cast than the average drama).  But there was a point midway through the third season when all of a sudden, it was like the J. J. Abrams, Damon Lindelof, and Carlton Cuse sat down and said, "Hey, it's time to get serious, yo!"  (This point corresponds roughly with the demise of "Poochie" additions Nikki and Paulo, an event widely regarded as driven by viewer unrest and welcomed by all except perhaps actors Kiele Sanchez and Rodrigo Santoro.)

Last week's episode, though excellent in and of itself, had me wondering where the writers would take the show for the rest of the season, given we'd been only five episodes into a seventeen episode season, and the overall plot arc seemed fairly clear at that point.

Tonight, though: well, I already invoked more than my share of deities once in this post.  If I may tip my hat to Robot Chicken (and yes, I did resist adding "magic unicorn mayonnaise" once already), let me express their oft-parodied M. Night Shyamalan bit to say: "What a twist!"  Seriously, this was one jam-packed episode; my head is still spinning after having watched it twice and some parts three times now just to try to get my mind around all that went on tonight.

When the episode showed Jack waking up in the jungle (mirroring the shot from the series premier, sans dog Vincent), I immediately asked Beth, "So, is this 'real,' meaning they're back on the island now and we'll get flashbacks about how they got there again?"  And indeed, I seem to have been proven at least partially correct on that point given the Ajria Airlines flight and ensuing return to the island, which featured some of the best dialog in the series to date:

• Jack asks good natured yet icewater-veined sociopath mastermind and island dungeon master Ben, "What's going to happen to the other people on this plane?"  Now, we've been clearly led to believe they're recreating Oceanic Airlines Flight 816, which crashed on the island in the series premier to start the whole shebang.  Ben replies: "Who cares?"
• The pilot introduces himself as none other than Frank Lapidus, a.k.a. the helicopter pilot from the third season who helped rescue the "losties."  Jack asks to see him, and when Frank steps out of the cockpit, his grin at the coincidence of running into Jack fades as he notices most of the rest of the "Oceanic Six" on board, and he says, "We're not going to Guam, are we?"
• Several things Daniel Faraday's mum a.k.a. Eloise Hawking (also a.k.a. "Ellie" the Other from the 1950's island?) says are quite good, from her explanation of finding where the island will appear (not where it is mind you, but where it will be) to her interaction with Desmond, telling him the island "isn't done with [him] yet."  Remember, of course, that she previously set in motion Desmond's past involvement with the island when she refused to sell him an engagement ring, leading to his proving himself in a sailing race that ended up landing him on the island (during which time Daniel Faraday, Eloise's son, in a time-slip to the "past" told Desmond to seek out Eloise in the "present" ... my head is beginning to hurt!)
• Several of the characters take new roles on Ajira 316 corresponding to those taken by other characters on Oceanic 816: Hurley, for example, brings a guitar, much like his friend Charlie did previously; Sayid is being escorted by a U.S. Marshal, as was Kate previously; Locke's body is explicitly in the hold as a surrogate for Christian Shepphard (Jack's father); Ben boards at the last moment just as did Hurley previously; and so forth.

I'm just amazed at the level of connectedness we're seeing developed, not just between episodes and characters but between several years' worth of seasons of the program.

One example (and speculation on my part, but not unsupported): Early in the episode, after Jack has received the instructions on getting back to the island, Ben chats with him before leaving the church they're in.  Jack asks Ben where he's going, and Ben says, "Oh, I made a promise to an old friend of mine."  Recall that he promised Charles Widmore in the prior season he'd have his vengeance for Charles' role in the death of Ben's adopted daughter, Alex.  Futher recall that Desmond showed up at the church: Ben knows Penny Widmore, Charles' daughter and Desmond's love, is in Los Angeles.  And Ben later shows up for the flight beaten and bloodied... from his work in (perhaps) killing Penny?

And there's the constant barrage of allusion, to pop culture, literature, and mythology.  One of many such examples from tonight alone: Ben recounts to Jack the story of St. Thomas the Apostle, who in the Christian bible first told the other Apostles to bravely go with Jesus even to what seemed certain death, but who is better remembered as "Doubting Thomas" for the eponymous action of having to touch the risen (reincarnated?) Jesus' wounds as proof.  Jack has to lead the Losties back to an island described by Charlotte as "death." Locke's body has been in the back of a van whose company logo is an anagram for reincarnation ("Canton Ranier") and reports of whose death seems greatly exaggerated (and who will be on a flight numbered the same as a certain verse in John...), and he later leaves a "suicide note" for Jack saying that he wished Jack had "believed in him" (even more: the two characters have been set as antitheticals in episodes such as "Man of Reason, Man of Faith" previously).

Another is that the Dharma station where Eloise Hawking tells the Losties how to return to the island is called the "Lamp Post," which brings to mind the scene in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe immediately through the wardrobe; i.e. a way between the two disconnected realities.  Or given the end of the Narnia stories, that the Losties are perhaps really indeed dead and need to realize that fact and move on (as some now-departed cast members seem to have done), all protests to the contrary by the producers and writers...  Sorry if I spoiled the end of Narnia for you, but hint: they're all dead, the Chronicles were a "dream," and it's time to move on to "higher lands."  Oh, and by the way: the kids in Narnia died (and then dreamed the whole Narnia bit)... in a train crash!  (This ties in with several previous literary allusions--though the consensus would be it's a red herring to make us think they're all dead.)

The intricacies of this show and the way the details tie together (and the number of lingering questions we're begging to have answered, like the four-toed statue on the island from season one, the role of Village of the Damned-esque child Aaron and what the heck has happened to him, where ESP-blessed kid Walt is going to show up again, etc.) remind me a lot of the fantastic work of the sadly-late Robert Jordan in his Wheel of Time series, where fans had to at times resort to primers and recap summaries prior to the publication of each subsequent novel in the series to freshen themselves on all the myriad details.

If you're not a LOST viewer or a casual fan at best, I'm sure the majority of my gush above has left you either confused or wondering if I'm something of a nutter myself.  Let me assure you that you're missing out if that's the case, but let me also warn you that should you seek out the DVDs of the prior seasons of LOST to get caught up, you are in for an addictive ride which might just consume several full days of your life.