Results of Ruminations

Time: 11:04am. Timer: 25 minutes. Go. Case #1 Here's a thing I've been thinking about: Fame. Part of it comes from the book I started listening to this morning, But What if We're Wrong? . I'm still early in the book (about an hour and a half so far), but there are ideas that are challenging and interesting. It's part futurism, part history, part critical analysis--definitely up my alley, even if it does make me uncomfortable with some of the implications of the cheerily described tendencies of humanity. Klosterman begins by talking about Moby-Dick , one of my favorite novels. I've read it once in college (where it ought to be read, if only so that the worthwhile conversations that the book inspires can have regular space; in lieu of college, a good, dedicated book club could tackle the Whale over the course of, say, three or four meetings), then half again whilst playing a Batman video game. It's not easy to read by any stretch, and its purpose is far...

I've long recognized that I have dichotomous tastes. A life-long fan of comics (mostly superhero comics, but there are some others that I appreciate), video games, and parts of anime, I've grown up subsisting on a steady diet of the fantastic. The Chronicles of Prydain  formed a background of middle grade and young adult fantasy (since Harry Potter  wasn't around--and when he showed up, I was anti-Potter), with Anne McCaffery's worlds filling in the gaps. I watched some Star Trek  with my mom, thought Star Wars  was fine (until it wasn't, ruined by constant viewings of the VHS tapes by my little brother--to the point it bred a bit of antipathy in me about them), and I read Animorphs . Both science fiction and fantasy swirled throughout much of my early life. Because of my obsessive personality, I definitely focused on Spider-Man a lot more than other properties, relying on that fusion of science fiction/fantasy that, frankly, has always been the most comfortable ...

A couple of years ago, Salt Lake City developed a hankering for some Comic Con (or ComiCon), ushering in a new wave of geek ephemera and focus on fandom. While my wife and I missed the first one or two, we decided to attend one of the cons when some of the Lord of the Rings  actors (particularly Sean Astin) showed up for the experience. Gayle put together a dress that looked like Arwyn from The Return of the King  and I wore some Hogwarts robes. We got a picture with Sean and generally had a good time. Since then, we've attended each convention, always going in costume. We've worn steampunk, Hogwarts, Cinderella and Fairy Godmother, and Queen Elizabeth with her Shakespeare. The boys sometimes come, wearing superhero costumes, dressing as Leonardo da Vinci, and even dressing up as dinosaurs. In short, we go and we participate and we enjoy the experience. Now feeling fairly familiar with how a convention works--how much there is to see and enjoy, how much time one is standin...

Apparently, one of the aphorisms of real estate is "Location, location, location." It's said as a truism, so I'm guessing it has all sorts of exceptions that those in the business could point out to me, but as I'm willing to recite it at face value, we'll go with the basic idea--except for writing. One of the things that makes for a larger, more lasting impression in some  fiction is where it takes place.* Here's a quick and dirty list, right off the top of my head: Spider-Man doesn't work in the rural south (he needs skyscrapers); Aquaman free of the ocean loses some of his prestige; Luke Skywalker sans the Death Star isn't much of a Luke; The Lord of the Rings  in a place other than Middle Earth fails on a lot of levels; the gladiatorial fighting of Panem makes less sense in almost any other setting. But there's something to be said for writing where the location is so fully realized and integral to the story that it feels like it's a...