Light and Shadow

This post contains spoilers for the ending of the Wheel of Time.


I have a fascination for the clash of extremes.

Good and evil, corruption and purity, order and chaos, impulse and restraint. Light and Shadow, Ice and Fire, Paragon and Renegade, Jedi and Sith. You may have noticed.

-points to profile-

But maybe I should explain that further. People tend to view these things in terms of one triumphing over the other. Good prevailing, evil dominating. That's only natural. But what happens after one wins?

The light never dies. The darkness always comes back.

The battle never truly ends.

I'm reminded of the ending of the Wheel of Time - and yes, I will get around to that final post eventually.

The Last Battle was more philosophical than most people expected. Amidst the war being fought around them, Rand and the Dark One fought using worldviews contemplating the nature of evil. Though Rand had long believed he could somehow kill the Dark One, he was forced to concede it couldn't be done. Darkness cannot be destroyed, only defeated.

Because stripping the evil from someone robs them of the desire to be good. And are you truly good if you have no other choice?

Light is defined by shadow, and vice versa.

So when I say I'm interested in opposing forces - they interest me when taken together.

Though religion says otherwise, sometimes I doubt absolute good and evil really exist. Isn't everyone a blend of both? A mix of conflicting forces?

Maybe that ending sounded bleak. But it's presented as an epiphany. Rand at last understands that 'the Dark One was not the enemy. It never had been.' I didn't understand that for a long time. When I finally learned what it meant, like so many other things in this series - it blew my mind.

The Dark One is the personification of evil, to be sure. It exists. But the ones doing evil, plotting and killing and creating monsters, not to mention freeing the Dark One in the first place, were men and women.

In many ways, Rand's story is a descent into darkness. He grows increasingly angry at the world he's meant to save; bitter about his prophesized death; and unfeeling, convinced that compassion is a weakness. Eventually he sees the light and becomes a true saviour, gaining hope and wisdom amidst his sorrow. But he almost became the very thing he fought against.

Rand's true foe was never the Dark One. It was Rand himself.

You see? Conflicting forces.

A few weeks back, I read a quote that's stuck with me ever since. I like quotes. They're bite-sized portions of wisdom, proof of the power of writing to show you the world in a different way.

Mileage may vary, of course. This particular bite is something everyone's aware of on some level. But I'd never thought of it quite like this.1

Everyone has issues. In real life, there are no two-dimensional characters. We are all the heroes or heroines of our own stories, and each and every one of us is flawed. Our behaviour is both nurture and nature; our basic personality augmented by the lessons we've learned, the ghosts that haunt us, and the problems we deal with every day.

Like that song I mentioned a few weeks ago. Remember?

Everybody's got their demons.

And you can never truly know the depths of another's darkness. Even the people closest to you can be a mystery.

Maybe it's loneliness. Ageing. Fear of failure. Trauma. A toxic relationship. A life unlived. An unfulfilling job. Financial difficulty. Sickness or infirmity. An inability to do things most people take for granted. Pain, depression, above all regret. The things you wish you'd done, or hadn't done, or had done differently. The list goes on and on. And it makes me wonder, how well do we truly know anyone?

I suspect my battle would surprise you. No doubt yours would surprise me.

Which makes it even more important that we try to understand each other.

It's easy to judge someone's behaviour or beliefs based on what you think you know. But you haven't been where they've been, done what they've done, lived through what was done to them. Any more than they understand those things about you. Make an effort and you might just gain a new perspective.2

Choose to be kind. Be a light in someone else's darkness.

Isn't that what being good is all about?

1 - Written by a bestselling YA author I'd never heard of. I should try one of her books.

2 - The backstory of FMA: Brotherhood involves the mostly white military slaughtering a dark-skinned uprising. Against this backdrop of racism and ethnic cleansing, a white general names a mixed-blood officer as her second-in-command. He demands to know why. She answers that she needs someone whose perspective differs from her own. It's one of my favorite scenes.

Brotherhood

You'll find your way

And may death find you alive

        Take me down the line

                 In Gem City we turn the tide

                          - 'Uma Thurman', Fall Out Boy5

A boy in a hooded red coat walks through a scorching desert.

He takes out his water bottle, only to find it empty. He stands there surrounded by endless dunes. He is utterly alone. 

The boy drops to his knees. He puts his hands together, then spreads them on the sand. The sand glows - and a geyser of water blasts up in front of him.

This scene was the first that brought my attention to Full Metal Alchemist. 

The story of Edward Elric, a boy with touch-based magic and robotic prosthetics, and his brother Alphonse, a disembodied suit of armor, trying to regain the body parts and body they lost struck me as pretty weird at first. But based on its popularity, I eventually gave it a shot - and discovered one of the best anime, and best stories, I have ever seen.

Now, before you roll your eyes and browse elsewhere; there is a point to this. Bear with me.

If you didn't know, 'anime' refers to Japanese animation. It's a genre far different from Western animation, which maintains that cartoons are for kids. Western styles and stories do have more variety. But the content is simplistic. The few exceptions, like The Simpsons, mostly deal in comedy.

Anime has rather less variety. There are only minor variations in art style, and cliches like high school settings and teenagers who save the world crop up time and again.1

But it tells bigger, more interconnected stories. Episodes often resemble chapters in a novel. Comic relief is common, yet so are more mature themes, e.g. existentialism, bigotry and shades of morality. Not to say it's all serious, there are plenty of anime aimed at children too. And that's the point. Japanese studios don't limit themselves to a single age group. They inhabit the entire spectrum. 

I watched a lot of Western cartoons as a kid. And the only one I would still watch today was inspired by anime.2

So, yeah. I'm biased.

Having said that: I understand that anime isn't to everyone's taste. All the series I've enjoyed do have something to be said against them. Bleach is too long. Attack on Titan is too bloody. Sword Art Online is too...romantic? 

What? There are fight scenes too.

Except this one. I really can't think of any major flaw in Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood.

Which is not the same anime as Full Metal Alchemist.

Confused?

There is a point! I'm getting to it. But first, a history lesson.

Most popular anime are derived from successful manga (comics), including all of those I just mentioned. A single episode will comprise several issues worth of content. If the manga is still being written at the time, the show will, inevitably, catch up.

And so arises the dilemma currently facing Game of Thrones. The producers could pump the show full of filler for however long it takes the artist to finish the story, potentially alienating their fanbase. Or they could just make up their own.

This happened waaaay back in 2003, when the original anime, Full Metal Alchemist, was created. The manga was nowhere near finished. So the creator gave her3 permission for the show to veer off in its own. Which it did, spinning a smaller, more personal story.

Six years later, in 2009, the manga was nearly finished, and the time was ripe for a more faithful adaptation. This was named Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood.

As is usual in these cases, there's a debate between fans over which version is better. The first series - which I admit I haven't seen much of - has more character development and backstory. More 'heart'. 

Whereas Brotherhood has a better plot, pacing, animation and absolutely, hands down, a better ending.4

Again: I'm kind of biased. 

I suppose that could just come down to nostalgia. But either way...

Part of it was the way magic is treated. There are arcane symbols and fantastical transformations, to be sure. But alchemy, the power to change something into something else, is a science. It is actually called that. Researchers study it in laboratories. Though miraculous, alchemy is viewed as a natural process, integral to the modern world. Something along the lines of electricity - or perhaps nuclear fusion. 

Then there's the religious subtext. At first glance, FMAB seems rather anti-religion. The main villain is a robed, bearded man aspiring to become a god. His 'children' are named for the seven sins. The hero even calls himself an atheist. 

Yet there is a higher power. And while never stated, it is implied that alchemy, that same phenomenon being treated as a science, is divine. 

Look familiar?

Implications aside, I came to realize that the series' message isn't against religion per se. It's against blindly following any philosophy you haven't thought through yourself. That speaks to me.

Then there's the setting. In contrast to most anime, which are (understandably) set in variations on modern or feudal Japan, the central nation state is based on various European countries over the last few hundred years. Like England during the Industrial Revolution, and Nazi Germany. Thus the powers of alchemy exist alongside cars, trains, firearms, skyscrapers and yes, robotic prosthetics. It's a heady mix that, at the time, was unlike anything else I'd come across.

And it's just a really good story. The drama! The comedy! The action! The twists! The hand that turns into a sword!

Never gets old.

And the reason I've gone on for so long about this series is that it was my primary inspiration for Wraithblade.

Well no, not exactly. My first inspiration came from Pirates of the Caribbean. Remember the cursed pirates who were revealed as skeletons by moonlight? I liked that, but wondered. What if it wasn't all villains and scoundrels who were cursed, but someone good? 

What if it was Elizabeth?

Exactly.

So emerged the character of Istara. A floating, skeletal spectre who, when seen in the spirit world, still looks like the girl she used to be. 

Though you won't see the latter in the free sample. Sorry about that.

Yet the dynamics of her relationship with Aeron owe a lot to Edward and Alphonse. Two characters scarred by the supernatural, one of whom is no longer human. A deeply personal quest turning into something much larger.

And most importantly, their backstory, how Aeron raised her from the dead, came from wondering: what if the brothers' tale had begun just a little differently?

What if they hadn't failed?

You see, the one great taboo of alchemy is working with human souls. As a boy, Edward Elric broke it twice. The second time was to bring back his brother's soul and tie it to that suit of armor. It cost him his arm.

Their original sin, so to speak, which cost Edward his leg and Alphonse his body, was an attempt to tie another soul to a body of their own making. The result was a horrific, zombie-like creature that barely managed a few breaths before dying.

They were trying to bring their mother back to life.

Don't tell me you didn't feel something there. 

To conclude: I loved this series. It's been an inspiration. And isn't that the mark of a great story?

I don't suppose you'd be interested enough to watch it, though.

Although if you are...

But no. I understand. 

That's too serious. Here's a more fun version.

All right, all right. I could go on forever here. Enough.

For now.

1 - There are various subgenres. Naturally, my own preference is shonen - action, powers, primarily for young males. That sort of thing. But you can also find romance, historical, slice-of-life, comedy, all the way up to gay, lesbian and, well, erotic fiction. Yes, really.

2 - It's also funnier than it looks. The sequel series isn't bad either. Really, this deserves a post in itself.

But stay far, far away from the live-action adaptation. Not only is it a horrible movie. Both as a fan and a Eurasian, the blatant racism still pisses me off. The series has an obvious basis in Inuit, Indian, Chinese and Japanese culture. Why the director - an Indian guy, no less - chose to whitewash the cast is beyond me. 

But I digress.  

3 - Yes, a woman. Surprised?

4 - The first series' denouement could best be described as bittersweet and open-ended. Whereas the canon storyline finishes in an escalating, multilayered climax comparable to the ending of Harry Potter. I would not say this lightly.

5 - If you didn't understand the title and/or lyrics, don't feel bad. No one else did either. Apparently it's about wooing a violent woman, like the kinds of characters Uma Thurman plays. I chose it because my first impressions were of a woman; death; obsession; and an empowered protagonist. And the final battle in Brotherhood does take place in a city.

Random Thoughts III

I get busy with other things, and suddenly it's been a month and a half since my last post. *shakes head, ponders the vagaries of life and the unstoppable march of time* 

I guess it's time for some random thoughts.

I know, that was lame. Just roll with it.

Actually, I do have a more focused-ish post in the making. Coming soon. But in the meantime...

I've just finished reading The Barbarian Nurseries, which tackles present-day racism in America. A white, upper-middle-class family is, ahem, facing financial difficulties. They're going broke. The morning after a major argument because of this, both parents escape for the weekend, each assuming the other will look after the children. The two boys are left alone with the Mexican maid. Their parents eventually return home to find all three have vanished.

And so begins a drama that captivates the national media, with allegations of kidnapping and parental negligence thrown around, which for many comes to represent the tension between the wealthy whites and an ever-growing immigrant population.

Now, there isn't as much story going on here as you'd expect - the plot wouldn't take long to summarize. What really drew me in were the characters. Though many aren't significant plotwise, the author makes a point of weaving in complex people from all walks of life. The cynical social worker, less interested in where the boys were taken than in why they were left behind. The young Mexican-American student who's come back from college to find she no longer identifies with her community. The naive deputy who fears the maid's art makes her a psychopath. The Mexican girl who speaks better English than Spanish, yet has grown up as an illegal immigrant.

'...carrying a secret so long you forgot you were carrying it, until someone or something reminded you of its existence and you felt the pressure of the words against your skin, and you realized the words were always there.'

I even found traces of myself, to my amused chagrin. In the family's bookworm son, aged eleven, with the 'verbal and reading skills of an eighteen-year-old, and the socialization of a seven-year-old.'

And in his father, who goes to a sympathetic, attractive female colleague's apartment for the weekend - and then spends it playing video games. Seems like something I would do.

Again, the story of the boys' 'disappearance' is thin in and of itself. But the sheer variety of viewpoints it's filtered through more than makes up for that. The maid's most of all. Not always likeable, but intelligent and critical, she offers an intriguing picture of life as an immigrant in modern-day America.

Now, the next entry is a little morbid...all the more because it's true.

Browsing through magazines in the library, I came across the story of Amy Bishop, a university researcher and Harvard graduate. Six years ago today - damn. I swear that's a coincidence - she shot six colleagues with a 9mm pistol, killing three. She is now serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole.

This wasn't her first episode of violence, either. At twenty-one, she accidentally(?) shot and killed her younger brother. She and her husband were questioned over the attempted letter-bombing of a ex-colleague who'd gotten her fired. She once attacked another woman in a restaurant over a booster seat. 

This is a troubled individual.

But what caught my attention here was that this woman had long dreamed of becoming a famous author. Before the shooting, she wrote three unpublished novels with clear autobiographical elements. Her heroines, all scientists, are variously haunted by having killed a young boy; frustrated with their lives and careers; possessed of violent dreams and daydreams; struggling with depression and thoughts of suicide. All fantasize about the deaths of those who've wronged them.

Disturbing, isn't it. You can read the full article here. 

All authors put pieces of themselves into their writing - some more than others. But this was the first time I'd come across anything written by a murderer.

But anyway. Lightening the mood.

I've finally gotten a new smartphone, and its performance has been even better than I expected. The camera, in particular, is quite nice.

Pretty.

But what really surprised me was the calibre of games it could play.

Well, I was.

See, while browsing through the Play Store, I came across this.

Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic is, by now, a thirteen-year-old title. No, it's not canon. But being set thousands of years before the movies, while the Jedi still fought a vast Sith organization as powerful as they were, that really doesn't matter. This is still considered one of the best Star Wars games ever made.  

And there have been a lot of Star Wars games.

It was developed by Bioware, one of the big names in the gaming industry, whose two major franchises, Dragon Age and Mass Effect, fantasy and scifi, continue to achieve commercial success and critical acclaim. I enjoyed both. They really are that good.

Now, as opposed to Japanese RPGs like Final Fantasy, which are traditionally linear - think novels in game form - western RPGs offer a great deal of choice. Especially concerning morality. You can usually choose to be good, evil, or something in between. 

For example, in the first Dragon Age game, I was a traitorous elf who approached the gathering darkness with an end-justifies-the-means attitude. (Based on a villain from my first fantasy story.) Whereas in the Mass Effect games, I played a heroic female soldier who built bridges amongst the various alien races. (Yes, I play as women too. Why 
not? Who only reads books where the lead characters are men?) In both cases, wildly different approaches are possible. Depending on your actions, the story plays out in very different ways.

Now apply that framework to a galaxy, far, far away, and you get your very own Star Wars experience, in which you can become either hero or villain, Jedi or Sith, saviour or conquerer, following an epic storyline alongside Wookies, Twi'leks and a murderous, sarcastic version of C-3PO.

Interested yet?

No?

*sigh* Well, back to my original point. Apart from the stellar reviews, the developer's pedigree, and the fact that it's, you know, Star Wars - this is from the generation of games I played in my teens. On a TV. With CDs and everything.

Stock photo. I haven't bought it - yet.

This is nothing new, of course. The video game industry has long been milking the cash cow re-releasing classic games on new platforms wherever profitable possible. 

But still. I couldn't help feeling just a little wonder that the bulky technology of yesteryear can now be carried around in one hand.

And finally - 

I just heard this song a few days ago. It's darker than the band's earlier, more upbeat tracks, and I like it. A lot.

I also like the concept behind the music video. They asked fans what the song and the band's music in general meant to them - and then brought in some of those fans to star alongside them. That's pretty cool. Apparently they're well known for this sort of thing.

I guess there's more than one reason they've become hugely successful. 

Ladies and gentlemen: 5 Seconds of Summer.

New Year's Eve 2015

Parts of this were adapted from a letter I wrote. The idea to make it a New Year's post came from someone else. No pressure.

Just giving credit where credit is due. *grins* You know who you are.

So here we are. Hard to believe it's the end of another year. Events around this time last year feel like they were just a few months ago. I have to think back over all the things I've done and people I've met to remember that yes, it really has been that long.

Yet a couple days ago, I was thinking about a small dinner party I was at, fun but forgettable, wondering if it was sometime in November. Then it hit me that that was only last week.

*shakes head* I'm getting old.

Aren't we all?

Well. If you didn't know, according to the Chinese Zodiac, 2015 was the Year of the Goat. There are twelve animal signs, each animal is represented once every dozen years. And this year was mine. 

I'm a Goat. Insert joke here. 

Not that I follow this stuff. I'm not even Chinese! I just find it intriguing how, though interpretations may vary, some caprine descriptions really do sound like me.

Anyway. All the way back in January, I remember thinking that this was my year. I had fond memories of the last one in 2005 - wow, that's a long time ago - and hoped that this one would give me everything I wanted.

And it didn't.

But looking back...I kind of think I got what I needed.

Yes, okay, fine. You can sing the song. It's as good a soundtrack as any.

Yes, there are still issues unresolved and goals unachieved that I'm just going to have to carry over to next year. There are things I wish I'd done differently. But that's the point, isn't it. I had to do those things to know they weren't what I wanted. That's how we learn, and grow.

I'm starting to think happiness is like a constellation. It's easy to see a dark sky. But find the stars, and you can draw a brighter picture.

We all spend a lot of time being worried or anxious, irritable or depressed. But if I look back over the last year, it's the bright spots I remember. I've read a lot of books, played a lot of games, written things I wanted to write. I've made new friends. I've had deep conversations, felt like a badass, acted like an idiot. I've made people laugh.

That's not a bad picture, don't you think. *raises glass* Here's to 2015.

I just want to say, to all the people who've made my life brighter this year - family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances and the ones I used to know - 

Thank you. I hope I've made yours brighter as well.

So here we go.

*smiles*

See you on the other side.

Random Thoughts II

I've decided I like this format. It allows me to hold forth on multiple unrelated subjects when I don't feel like one of my grand essays.* I'm going to make this a series - starting now. 

Any objections? No? Good.

So first off. I've just finished reading We Need To Talk About Kevin, a novel built around the phenomenon of American school shootings. Narrated by the mother of a boy who grows up to execute - yes, that is the word - several schoolmates, among others, it's a tragic tale that wonders why so many are committing mass murder in their teens.

Now, before I go on. I'm on the anti-gun side of the debate. I've never been a fan of blood and gore per se. But I have cheerfully slaughtered multitudes in virtual worlds, and have no desire to go out and kill people in real life. There's a wall in my head between fiction and fact.

Ah, you say. Good for you. But not everyone has that wall. Nowadays it seems there are more and more mentally disturbed American teenagers. Is it the culture? A morally deficient upbringing? The apparently inept mental health system?

I wouldn't know. I didn't grow up there. Sometimes I'm kind of glad for it.

But as an outsider looking in, I've come to believe that the proliferation of guns in America is - forgive me - a profound cultural flaw. Don't give me that garbage about people killing people. It's true enough. But guns make it easy to kill people. There is a link between video games and firearms. In both cases you move your finger, and someone dies.

Of course the issue is more complicated than that. But guns are part of the problem.

Nevertheless. The book isn't about all that.** Rather, it's a meditation on how much responsibility parents should bear when their children become monsters. The core dynamic is between Kevin and his mother, who didn't want to be a mother, and admits to disliking her own son. Did the antagonism of their relationship drive him to do what he did? Or was he born evil, and his mother, understandably flawed, powerless to prevent it?

I lean towards the latter. Practically from birth Kevin is portrayed as a sociopath, lacking any sort of compassion, driven only to destroy on a whim. His malice is calculated, disturbingly so. He is maleficent.

Yet there are rare occasions when we see that his apathy might just be a facade. One he's worn so long it's become a part of him. What might cause a young boy to don such a mask?

It's all quite fascinating - and heartbreaking. I recommend it. There's even a movie.

Moving on. Several months ago a famous boy band I'd never heard of visited my workplace. The other day a cousin got a picture of them, with me in it, from a friend. She joked that I was famous. But it hit me that in a way, I probably was.

Now, don't go thinking I care all that much about meeting famous people. They make for points of interest - I've got a picture with Bill Clinton from when I was five - but life goes on. 

What I do is public enough that I've gotten used to being recognized occasionally. People look at me and go, aren't you that guy from...and I smile and say, yes. That's me. And I work at a tourist attraction, after all. During peak season - now, as it happens - up to hundreds of people see me every day.

I suppose this isn't very logical.

But it does occur to me to wonder how many thousands, if not tens of thousands, have looked up this band and seen my face.

Thirdly. One of my recurring themes, you might say, is that it's hard to be original these days. I've said it before. I came up against it time and again writing my first fantasy story. I still feel a mixture of amusement and chagrin upon finding that someone else has already thought my own thoughts.

And so it is here, with my musings on books and video games. The link between them seemed novel when I first noticed it. They are very different media, after all.

And then I found this quote.

*shrug* At least I'm not alone.

I've also been rereading the Harry Potter books recently. What? It's been five, maybe six years. Old favourites*** deserve to be revisited. I'm sure someday I'll get around to rereading the entire Wheel of Time.

Anyway, I've just finished the fifth, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which
pits Harry against the Ministry of Magic itself, who refuse to believe Lord Voldemort has returned. Faced with escalating government interference at Hogwarts, Harry forms his own little secret society dedicated to learning defensive magic - while in the outside world, the Order faces off against the Dark Lord from the shadows. There's a pervading theme of rebellion against flawed authority. It's by far the darkest book yet - and one of my favourites.

But it's also the least favourite of many - and now I see why.

For the first time in the series, Harry's personality has shifted. He's always been well-meaning, loyal, a little reckless, perhaps, but determined to save people who need saving. And all that's still there.

But now, above all, he's angry.

And he has good reason. Despite his kidnap and torture - and the murder of a schoolmate - by the newly risen Dark Lord, the Ministry is branding Harry a violent, attention-seeking liar. Former friends are now against him; the Ministry-appointed teacher is out to get him; and on top of everything else, he's failing his classes. Given all that, it's understandable that he becomes rather...volatile.

That is to say: he's short-tempered, bitter, moody, self-pitying, prone to taking stupid risks and picking fights. In this book, Harry's an anti-hero.

That didn't bother me so much before. I first read the book in my teens, right around Harry's age. Back then, his behaviour seemed justified. Now, watching him lash out at his friends makes me wince. 

But in a way, Harry's misery makes him more relatable. It shows he's flawed. I remember at least one author noting how Harry is temperamental, rash, a poor student. They liked that. Perfect heroes are unrealistic, because perfect people don't exist. It's our imperfections that make us real.

So overall, this is still one of my favourite books. Harry isn't always likeable here - but he is believable. He's a teenager, with all the angst and anger that entails. I used to be one too. I can empathize.

And it helps to know that we both got better in the end.****

Fifthly - I should lighten the mood. 

It's that time of year again! *infectious grin* Among the many memes and videos being passed around social media, I enjoyed this one so much I thought I'd pass it on. 

Watch this. 

Yes, the guy on the left looks a little too excited. But it's still hilarious. Merry Christmas, everybody.

And finally. I've said before that I admire certain kinds of art. And I do actually seek it out. Every now and then, I'll spend an hour just browsing for wallpapers that strike me as evocative, or memorable. Or pretty. 

So I'll leave you with this.

Only two more days. I can't wait.

*Though ironically, it's become one anyway.

**The author makes an effort to avoid the debate entirely. Kevin shows no interest in violent media. He isn't a loner; he isn't bullied; he's not on drugs. And he commits his murders not with a gun, but with a crossbow, having studied archery for years.

***I am proud to own a Hogwarts-crested T-shirt.

****You can find a more detailed examination here. 

Why I Love To Read

I used to like to draw.

When I was younger I drew epic starfighter battles, enchanted weapons, embellished writing with symbols and lightning bolts and so on. I remember bringing a sketch of our cat to school for show and tell. 

As I grew older I started drawing up homemade birthday cards for people. My technique improved over the years. My designs grew more imaginative. I wasn't a great artist, but I wasn't bad either.

Cue nostalgia.

But over time, my enthusiasm waned. Drawing became a chore. I finally stopped because more and more, it seemed like a waste of time.

Now, before I go on: I hold everyday artists* in the highest regard. There are countless examples of artwork inspiring me in roundabout ways. From eye-catching book covers, to great stories born from comics, to the sketches and illustrations that give rise to epic movies and video games. 

I actually own a book of the concept art for The Lord of the Rings movies. Did you know literally thousands of pieces of artwork were produced to establish the look and feel of Middle-Earth? I had no idea.

If you're an artist, I salute you. The world needs people like you. I'm just not one of them.

I'm still proud of my drawings. Whatever passion I had could probably be reignited. But it just isn't a priority - my free time is limited. I'd still be spending hours on something people will only look at for a few minutes at most. 

And the irony, of course, is that that's exactly what I'm doing right now.

We all make choices about what we do with our lives, and what not to do with them. I admire all the artists out there. But I choose to be a writer - because the other half of writing is reading. And the fact that you're reading this makes it all worthwhile. 

The written word has inspired me in many, many ways. So much so that at some point I thought, what if I could do this too? Maybe, if I caused even a single person to feel something greater than themselves, it'd be worth it. Maybe I could make the world a better place.

Maybe that person is you.

Today I'm talking about why I love to read.

Now, as I mentioned before, I like books and video games because they both offer a sense of immersion. But video games are still a visual medium. Indeed, big-budget games often resemble interactive movies. At the very least, I can't really claim not to watch TV when the games I play are...you know...on a TV.

My point is that you're still on the outside looking in. Reading bridges that gap. It places you on the inside.

I remember my first time reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. During the students' first flying lesson, Malfoy mocks an injured boy, steals something of his and then flies away on a broomstick. (He's already learned how.) Recklessly, Harry takes off after him, and discovers something amazing.

He doesn't need lessons. Harry can fly himself.

In this, he's found something he's instinctively good at. His friends cheer. His rival is stunned. And the aerial action that follows is filled with wonder, intensity, jubilation as we share the glow of that moment where he realizes: I can fly.

It's one of my favourite parts in the series.**

And then I saw the movie, and it just wasn't the same. I was watching him fly, not flying with him. That made all the difference.

In Stephen King's On Writing - yes, I read non-fiction too; what do you take me for? - the author compares writing and reading to telepathy: directing thoughts from one mind to another. It's not perfect, of course. Details are sacrificed. The writer's style and vocabulary interfere. The reader forms their own interpretation. 

But to paraphrase Rick Riordan, author of the Percy Jackson books: the greatest special effects are the ones inside your head.

My second reason is more personal. I'm an introvert. One definition of introversion is finding more stimulation inside our heads than anywhere else. Sounds about right. Growing up, I spent a huge amount of time in books...and it gave me a reputation.

I grew up homeschooled, and I'm not sure many people ever saw the work I did. Yet I noticed a pattern. My family seemed to think I was quite intelligent, learned fast and could generally do mental gymnastics, because I read so much.

I understand this is pretty common, actually. 

And, um, no. It's not true. Yes, I can occasionally pull out relevant random facts. I can count in my head because I was bad at math and pushed myself to do so much of the working mentally that some of it stuck. I was an average student overall.

I remember picking up a cousin's college biology book - I was fourteen - and hearing her telling others in the room: look what he's reading. My internal response was: so what? If anything, I thought I was getting in over my head.

But I liked the praise.

See, I doubt I got as much out of reading as people assumed. But I have gotten a lot out of it. Knowledge of the English language, certainly. Knowledge in general - though by now I know practical experience is just as important as theory. The desire to start writing in the first place. Speed enough to impress the uninitiated.

185,000 words, 528 pages, 24 hours.

I guess what I'm trying to say is - it's a part of who I am. I'm the one who always wants books for my birthdays. (Christmas too.) The one who actually hangs out at the library. I'm someone who reads. 

And I'm proud of that.

Ah, but wait. There is something else I've gotten out of books. Something I think you too - everyone, in fact, should be getting.

I finished Michael Benanav's Men of Salt a few weeks ago. It's the author's account of how he joined a camel caravan travelling to and from Saharan salt mines in a part of the world where salt was once worth its weight in gold, and is still used as currency today. It's a good book. I recommend it. 

But what really drew me in was the culture clash between the American author and his Tuareg companions. The author finding the desert starkly beautiful, while the nomads find beauty only in greener lands. A nomad chieftain finding a disposable lighter, made only to be thrown away, 'the dumbest thing he'd ever heard of'. 

Or - and this one made me laugh - the author inviting his new friends to ask about America and expecting questions about how many cars people owned. I don't mean to insult the intelligence of either side. It just struck me as so very Western to think salt miners in the Sahara would care about cars at all - for context, camels are still the primary mode of transportation. They asked what kind of animals Americans had in their deserts.

I've always been annoyed by people holding narrow-minded beliefs when they really have no idea. Yet I do this too, more often than I'd like. I make stupid assumptions that turn out to be dead wrong. It's only human. Our viewpoints are naturally narrow. 

So we should widen them as much as possible. 

Even more than knowledge, I value perspective. Allowing differing viewpoints to inform our own. That, I think, is a sign of true maturity.

The best way to do that is actual travel. But I would argue that reading is the next best thing. Telepathy, remember? It helps you to think the thoughts of someone else.

I hope you've enjoyed a taste of mine.

*By this I meant animators, illustrators, cartoonists and so on; people whose work I can appreciate. For artists who produce Art, of the kind you see in galleries: I guess they should be appreciated too. But I can't say that we're acquainted.

**I'd be a Ravenclaw. Just sayin'. 

No, really. I guessed I'd be a Ravenclaw, took an online test, and I was right. If that's not justification, I don't know what is. 

Though it's not that simple. Out of curiosity, I went back and changed a single answer I wasn't sure about. I got Hufflepuff. I found a more comprehensive test  - go on, you know you want to - and found that most of my answers were split evenly between the two. But I did have a silght preference for Ravenclaw. This matches the more traditional personality results I got years ago - melancholic-phlegmatic - so I wasn't really surprised.

Amusingly, what must have tipped me over the edge was the question asking what House you'd want, added specifically for borderline types like Harry himself. I got Ravenclaw because I chose Ravenclaw. That's fine with me. What did I just say about our choices defining us? Harry chose not to be in Slytherin, after all.

Legends and Awakenings

I might have mentioned before that I'm not really into movies. You could count the number of times I've been to cinemas in the past year on - *counts briefly* - two hands. Drat. I was going for one.

But come December, I am absolutely, positively, without question, watching this. 

Yes. I am a fan.

Albeit an odd sort of fan, I guess, in that I don't care about the source material. I have no strong feelings about the much-maligned prequel trilogy. And I've always viewed the original trilogy along the same lines as The Lord of the Rings. It's a great story, hugely influential. But it didn't exactly change my life.

What really drew me in was the Expanded Universe.

If you've never heard of it, the EU referred to the comics, video games, TV shows and (in my case) books set within the Star Wars universe before, during and especially after the movies. George Lucas was pretty cool about other storytellers running around his galaxy far, far away. He gave them his blessing, with the understanding that no story within the EU was allowed to contradict any other story - or the movies, of course - thus creating a vast continuity.

Well, maybe 'understanding' isn't the right word. There was a grading system for levels of canon, with the movies at the top. There were people whose jobs were to screen out inconsistencies. Lucasfilm took this stuff very, very seriously.

Noticed how I keep using the past tense?

Prior to the release of the prequel trilogy - which he was planning - George Lucas banned any content regarding the origins of Darth Vader and the rise of the Empire. This meant that much of the EU took place after the movies. It wove a long, epic yarn of the Rebels consolidating into a New Republic that faced off against the remnants of the Empire, a massive extragalactic alien invasion, and the odd wielder of the Dark Side. Leia became a prominent politician, married Han and had Force-wielding kids. Luke successfully rebuilt the Jedi Order. He had a son.

Lucasfilm allowed it all. In the absence of more movies, this future was canon. Only now they're making more movies - and it's no longer canon.

So they killed it.

All right, all right. They froze it. The entirety of the Expanded Universe has been rebranded as Star Wars Legends. It still exists - but only as fan-fiction. The new movies are the new future.

And you have to admit...the future looks kind of bleak. The Empire is now the First Order. The Rebellion has become the Resistance. But what's changed, really? Thirty years later, and they're still fighting for control of the galaxy. The Jedi are still a myth. Our protagonists are again starting out on a barren desert planet.

I wouldn't be surprised if the writers were intentionally mimicking the first movie. Even the new villain seems like a younger Darth Vader. They both use assumed names. 

Not that we know much about the story itself - the secrecy in that regard has been immense. The two main characters, the scavenger girl and the ex-stormtrooper? We're given their first names only. The fact that Luke is mysteriously absent from the trailers has led to wild rumours that he's now on the Dark Side. You can't help wondering if the movie is going to live up to all the hype.

But then, I suppose many would find my lack of faith disturbing.

I still feel a pang at the loss of the old continuity. But I'm willing to give this new one a shot. We can only hope the Force is with it. 

For the record, I think Kylo Ren is either Luke or Leia's son.

 Maybe I'm wrong. But if I'm right - 

*smirks*

I called it.