In Mary Poppins Returns, there’s a song titled “A Cover is not the Book.” It’s about various whimsical figures who are not what they seem on the surface, but it might as well be about the movie itself:
What looks to be an expensive, nostalgia-reliant cash grab is…well, still an expensive, nostalgia-reliant cash grab, but it’s also a delightful, deserving follow-up to a timeless classic.
In this sequel to 1964’s Mary Poppins, the Banks children are all grown up and facing grown-up problems—namely, the death of Michael’s wife, which has brought his sister Jane back into the fold of 17 Cherry Tree Lane to help take care of his three children, Annabel, John, and Georgie. A year without their mother has forced these children to grow up fast, but even the help they offer can’t stave off the most recent threat to their family—the potential loss of 17 Cherry Tree Lane and all the memories contained therein. Financially strapped, the only way the family can save their beloved home is to find the shares in Fidelity Fiduciary Bank that their father left to them, but in the disorganization of his grief, Michael has misplaced them. These are problems large enough to require the services of a magical nanny, and with all the foresight of such a nanny, Mary Poppins floats right in.
Mary Poppins Returns is a sequel that almost requires two viewings—one so you can roll your eyes at how often it leans on viewer memories of the original, a second so you can stop being a cynical modern moviegoer and fully enjoy how it not only pays homage to the original, but develops a complex theme all its own and does a practically perfect job of it. (Sorry not sorry.)
That said, the film definitely relies on the structure of the original, to the point where halfway through, I wondered if the film would have a single original plot point. The film opens with its own Bert, in this case a lamplighter named Jack, whose purpose is to carry on Bert Prime’s tradition of awful Cockney accents, introduce the audience to London, and remind everyone of how enigmatic and perfect Mary Poppins is. There’s the Making-a-Mundane-Task-Fun song (“Can You Imagine That?”), the Travel-to-a-Whimsical-Animated-World song (“The Royal Doulton Music Hall”), the jaunty “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” romp (“A Cover is Not the Book”), the Visit-to-the-Eccentric-Directionally-Challenged-Cousin song (“Turning Turtle”), the Song-and-Dance-with-Laborers (“Trip a Little Light Fantastic”), and the concluding Everything-is-Happy-and-Stuff-is-Flying song (“Nowhere to go But Up”). By the end, I was astonished that there wasn’t a Lullaby-About-Pigeon-Ladies (though there was a lullaby).
This said, it’s easy to write Mary Poppins Returns off as an unnecessary rip off of a classic. What keeps it from being so is how skillfully it handles its multitude of homages and how it builds upon elements introduced in the original to develop its own meaning.
This is a movie clearly made by fans of the original Mary Poppins. It’s obvious from the very opening song (“(Underneath the) Lovely London Sky”), to the painted-backdrop-and-overture credits to the unmistakably Sherman Brothers-inspired wordplay of the lyrics. (The soundtrack has been on repeat in my office and car since I first saw this movie.) Moreover, it fully understands the stern-yet-whimsical spirit of Mary Poppins as both a story and a character: the philosophy that sometimes even the dark, adult parts of life are best tempered with a little “stuff and nonsense.”
And that is even more key to this film than the last.
For though the movie is, on the surface, a nonsense storybook tale, it’s ultimately a story about grief—Michael coming to terms with the death of his wife (or not, as evidenced by the fact that he can’t run a functioning household without her, try as he might), and the children trying to do the same (but unable to because they have to take care of the household that their father can’t). Contrary to stereotype, when a nanny like Mary Poppins shows up, its because the adults need fixing, not the kids, and in this case, it’s two types of grown-up who need her help—one actual grown-up, three who have been forced to take on grown-up responsibilities tragically early in life.
Granted, the movie’s wildly lavish musical numbers often distract from that. Disney pulled out more stops than usual here, often to spectacular effect (“Trip a Little Light Fantastic” is a show-stopper), sometimes to CGI excess (“Can You Imagine That?” is a great song, but so conspicuously computer-generated that it barely feels like it belongs in the world of the movie). Still, ultimately the lyrics and themes of each individual song come together in a way that leads the Bankses to process their grief from a different perspective and, in effect, to reclaim the joys of innocence and happiness lost.
That this is accomplished through meaningful callbacks to the original Mary Poppins makes it that much better. Though several are admittedly pure window dressing for fans, many serve a relevant, indispensable purpose to the plot—namely the iconic kite from the “Let’s Go Fly a Kite” scene, which may as well have been a character in this film. Even references that don’t influence the plot are used in a charming, characterful way (Admiral Boom, Mr. Binnacle, and their punctual cannon make recurring appearances with a cute twist).
The cast performances are charming as well. With a character as distinct and iconic as Mary Poppins, the strength of the movie naturally rides on the depiction of said character, and Emily Blunt, from her precise language to her calculated slips of mischief, is spot-on in her role. Lin-Manuel Miranda, despite the accent, is as ebullient as the lamps his character lights. Ben Whislaw as Michael maintains a fine, likable balance between loving father and grieving husband, who comes across as emotionally incapacitated rather than completely incompetent, which is key for the appeal of his character (…even if the eventual reveal about the bank shares made the responsible adult in me want to scream at him). Despite not having a lot of screen time compared to the other characters, Emily Mortimer plays a sweet and assertive Jane, whose labor activism is a nice callback to the character’s suffragette mother. Finally, Pixie Davies, Nathaniel Saleh, and Joel Dawson as Annabel, John, and Georgie respectively also fill their roles well, balancing responsibility with playfulness and only coming across as precocious or whinging when children normally would.
The movie does have its flaws, but for me, most of them were nitpicks. There are moments when the film’s visuals become too overwhelming—as in the aforementioned “Can You Imagine That?” scene or in the animated “Royal Doulton Music Hall” sequence, where the backgrounds and costume design hearken back to the scratchy, sketchy Xerox era that produced Mary Poppins…but the animated animals all have clean, modern, digital lines. There’s also an actual antagonist in the form of William “Weatherall” Wilkins (Colin Firth), the new president of Fidelity Fiduciary Bank, who is determined to reclaim 17 Cherry Tree Lane for the very Hollywood reason of Profiting The Bank At All Costs. There’s a minor payoff for this conflict in the form of a fun character reveal at the end (Dick Van Dyke, revisiting a version of a role he played in the original), but in a story where the conflict is about characters overcoming personal problems, a concrete antagonist felt extraneous, and the entire climax could have worked even without the threat of Wilkins’ character. Fortunately, though, we don’t see enough of that character to really complain about, and the end itself is delightful enough to overshadow it.
The same can be said of the movie as a whole. The jaded adult in me might point out its flaws and repetitions, but the child in me delights in the way that it solves hard problems with childlike whimsy. While that seems like an unrealistic way to solve problems, hardships in my own life have taught me that often the best way to survive those periods (or at least ease oneself into a state where one is able to handle them) is to look at the darkness from a different, lighter perspective.
The wackiest song in the film, “Turning Turtle,” is actually the one that conveys the movie’s central message, and when Mary Poppins sings, “When you change the view from where you stood / The things you view will change for good,” it carries a deeper meaning far beyond her topsy-turvy situation. And, indeed, beyond the movie itself.
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.
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SphinxCon 2018 Con Update!
Last weekend we hopped over to Atlanta, GA for the inaugural SphinxCon, a con run by The Royal Manticoran Navy, the Official Honor Harrington Fan Association. Given that said universe was created by Jacob’s esteemed co-author, David Weber, it was a perfect whirlwind of a weekend to spread the word about their upcoming collaboration, The Gordian Protocol (*more on that in a month or so, which is when we’ll officially be able to spill the beans. SO MANY BEANS).
We approached SphinxCon differently from cons we’ve attended in the past. Previously, we were tiny indie minnows in a huge author pond, swimming through Dealer’s Rooms and Artist’s Alleys just to get the word out about our books. Now that we’re slightly less tiny minnows (albeit swimming beside a whale of the sci-fi world), we moved into panels – and in doing so, met a slew of awesome new fans and fellow authors.
Being that The Gordian Protocol is a time travel adventure, Jacob naturally moderated a panel on Crafting Time Travel Rulesets, along with fellow writer William Alan Webb.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bpz3maMF8KI/
That conversation continued even outside the panel, though. The engineer and physics nerd in Jacob had a riotous time crafting the rules for the world of The Gordian Protocol, going as far as to create a mathematical formula to predict the likelihood of certain time travel-induced changes in the world. (There are spreadsheets. LOTS of spreadsheets.)
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bpr1HY6hQVD/
H.P. moderated several panels, too, including Self-Publishing for Shy People with Jonathan Brazee and Michael J. Allen and Writing by the Seat of Your Pants with both them and Christopher Woods. Jacob joined her for Chaos of Creation: Balancing World Building With Story and then Jonathan Brazee and David Weber, of course, joined us for Collaborating with an Author.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BpvCXyulY02/
Some of the wildest panels, though, were those where we joined crowds of other authors for round table discussions of such topics as World Building (about…world building) and Science Fiction vs. Fantasy: Why not both? (about combining science fiction and fantasy in a single world). It was crazy to be able to sit on panels with such names as Chris Kennedy, Mark Wandrey, and David Gerrold (WRITER OF “THE TROUBLE WITH TRIBBLES,” YOU GUYS), in addition to those we’d already joined.
Of course, we can’t go without mentioning The Care and Feeding of Authors, wherein author spouses (H.P. here) chatted about what it takes to keep an author sane and fed, but mostly drank INCREDIBLE margaritas.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bpz2JGGlcvn/
The panels were fun, but perhaps the best part of the convention was actually getting to hang out with fans. That’s something that doesn’t necessarily happen at larger cons or in hurried Dealer’s Rooms, but small cons like these provide the perfect opportunity to just chill in a hallway and discuss books and cats and food with people who, previously, we’d only communicated with on our Facebook fan page, if at all!
Best of all, we’re now even more pumped to continue our current writing projects – The Wizard’s Circus for H.P. and the SEQUEL to The Gordian Protocol for Jacob – until we come up for air again at the next con! 😀
We’re on YouTube! (Or, Q&A #1: “Who does your cover art?”)
Hey, fans! A while ago, we asked our readers on Facebook for their burning questions, and now, we’re proud to present 1) our new YouTube channel, and 2) the Q&A video series!
We kick it off with one of our most frequently asked questions:
Who does your cover art?
Check out the video below for introductions to each of our illustrators, and be sure to like and subscribe to our YouTube channel if you’d like to see more. Thanks for watching! 😀
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6hswk1W962I&w=560&h=315]
Introducing the Pug of War!
https://www.instagram.com/p/BSHI7gcBBcu/
Sometimes a piece of fanart comes along that digs into your brain and won’t let go.
Last year at SC ComiCon, Phouthong Phimmarath surprised us with this little beauty, plopping the beloved pug butler from The Wizards Way into a fierce suit of Crusader armor from The Dragons of Jupiter.
You’ll recognize Phouthong’s work if you’ve looked at the logos or squinted at the fleurons inside the print editions Seraphim Revival books. He’s already done fantastic art for us, and so it was an easy decision to commission a cleaned-up, graphical version of that initial brilliant sketch. He does a lot of sharp, graphical superhero art, too, so if you’d like to see more of this greatness, check out his art page.
Anyway, his Crusader Pug was a combination we never knew we needed, and the more we stared at it, the more we realized, we needed it on a shirt. And a poster. And a sticker. And a bookmark. And a mousepad. AND EVERYTHING. And quickly we realized that this little dude wasn’t just a doodle. He had mascot potential.
And so now we bring you the new face of Holo Writing:
The Pug of War
Sweet, snuggly, and loyal, there’s no pug you’d rather have by your side. Especially when threats like giant robots and alien bugs and evil wizards show up. When he can’t solve a problem with snuggles…well, that’s what the Gatling gun’s for. But snuggles are his preferred method of attack. I mean, just look at his squishy squish face! 😀 😀 😀
No one knows from whence he came or why, but he will be there when the world needs him.
On a related note, we’ll be bringing Pug of War swag with us to cons, but if we’re not coming to a con near you, never fear! That’s what our new loot shop is for!
Here you’ll be able to find shirts, posters, signed books, and other miscellaneous Holo Writing swag! We’re still waiting on a few more products to post before its ~ Official Launch ~ but until then, feel free to swing on by and check out some adorable, awesome stuff! 😀 😀 😀
Dog Aliens #1: Raffle’s Name – Book Review
I spotted Dog Aliens #1: Raffle’s Name by Cherise Kelley on a Book Barbarian promo, and with my love of all things animal and sci-fi, how could I turn it down?
In Dog Aliens, Clem is not a dog, but rather a Kaxian, an alien race that looks exactly like Earth dogs and is living on earth to mine for Jex. Jex is a mineral that humans don’t need but is intensely important to the Kaxian – and to the Niques, another race of dog aliens who will do anything in their power to stop the Kaxian from getting the Jex.
This sounds like a setup for an epic animal story via Erin Hunter’s Warriors or Kathryn Lasky’s Guardians of Ga’Hoole, but really it’s the tale of Clem as he goes on various little adventures, from finding a new family once he’s abandoned by his original owner, escaping from his new careless owner, trying to get adopted from a shelter, fending off pesky cats and Niques – and figuring out his strange new ability to influence minds by projecting “mind movies” onto them.
The story lacks direction because of this episodic structure, but I doubt this will matter for its target audience, which is young middle schoolers and people who just love to read about dogs. For those readers, it’s fun to see earthly dog habits explained in Kaxian terms: Dogs dig all the time because they’re mining for Jex; they eat Jex to carry it, poop it to deliver it, and eat it again to carry it further if needs be. Not all of the content has earth dog parallels, though: Kaxians, for example, have multiple lives (as cats are reputed to, not dogs), and the book never establishes why exactly Jex is so important.
This may detract from the enjoyment of picky readers (Personally, I wanted more details about nearly all nontraditional elements of the story). Others who are looking for a quick, clean read, though, will enjoy it. The book is clear from the beginning that it’s a gentle read, with page one clearly stating that no dogs die, and in general it’s pretty tame, though there is one scene where a bad owner threatens to hit a dog with a frying pan and another wherein a dog in a shelter hopes that it won’t send him to his next life (i.e. implying he’s in a kill shelter).
Ultimately, it’s a quick, fun read for fans of talking animal adventures.
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.
EXCITING NEWS involving Jacob, David Weber, and a NEW BOOK!
I have a funny Liberty Con story: My fellow authors and I were gathering for our Sunday panel last summer, proudly displaying our books so everyone could see what we’d written. Suddenly the author next to me sees The Wizard’s Way. His eyes go wide and starry (I may have imagined this) and he asks, “You wrote a book with Jacob Holo? Is that the same Jacob Holo that’s writing a book with David Weber?”
So now I am mildly famous by association by association, which is funny. But not actually the point of this story.
The point of this story is that Jacob indeed WROTE A NOVEL WITH DAVID FREAKING DADDY OF HONOR HARRINGTON, CREATOR OF SAFEHOLD WEBER.
ACTUAL PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE:
https://www.instagram.com/p/BhFzPU6lj3P/
By this point, it would be more correct to say that David and Jacob just signed a contract for the novel with Baen Books and are working on the final draft, so it will be happening later rather than sooner.
Until then, I imagine you probably want to know more about this mysterious book.
Once upon a time, Jacob told me he’d never write a time travel novel. Well, when David Weber asks you if you want to write a time travel novel with him, you change your mind. Unfortunately, we can’t reveal more than that until closer to the release, but rest assured, it’s a novel in which lots of things explode because, hello, look at the authors.
We don’t have a projected release date yet, but a perfect way to keep up with the book’s progress is to join our mailing list. More news of this exciting project will reach you as soon as we have it!
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.
Everything I Am I Owe to Bad Movies
The #1 question readers ask authors is “What inspires you to write?” Many authors have deep answers like “intellectual curiosity” or “the ability to create my own reality,” but mine’s nothing of the sort.
My greatest inspiration is bad movies.
I enjoy good entertainment, too, of course, but looking back on my life as a writer, I realize that my emergent interest in writing coincided with my discovery of several not-so-classic bits of media, and once my interest in writing was established, similar media propelled my writing interests forward.
Good movies inspired me, too, but the thing about good movies is that they tend to be, for the most part, complete. They’ll always have some flaws, but generally their worlds will be refined, their plots will come together nicely, or you at least leave them satisfied with the adventure you just took while watching.
This isn’t the case with bad movies. Bad movies are defined by their flaws, whether it’s terrible acting, slapdash worldbuilding, lazy characterization, or plot holes galore – but some of these movies have just enough good in them to snag the viewer’s attention, and that is where my interests caught.
When I was starting out as a writer, I didn’t see “plot holes.” I saw “parts of the story that the movie didn’t have time to flesh out.” I made up my own explanations. These explanations became fanfiction. Soon after writing a few early fanfics I realized I could overlap ideas to create my own worlds, and the more bad movies I watched, the more plot holes I explored, and the more ideas I had.
The flaws in bad movies, then, became a playground for my imagination.
Because of that, even when sitting in a crowded theatre, I’m never watching the same movie as everyone else. Terrible movies continue to drive my writing to this day.
But without these initial gems (rocks? gravel?), I’d never have become a writer. To that effect, here are the terrible pieces of entertainment to which I owe the formation of my entire creative being.
Samurai Pizza Cats
Technically it’s not a movie, but it’s pivotal, so we have to start here.
Only the most awesome 0.001% of the Internet has even heard of this show, and it’s probably made up of people from the other percentages who love mediocre animation, the most eye-rolling of dad jokes, and who grew up watching this mess during its brief appearance on ‘90s TV.
Samurai Pizza Cats is a show set in Little Tokyo, where the population is anthropomorphic animals who are also sometimes robots and the main characters are pizza delivery cats by day, sentai by night or whenever the Big Cheese (He’s a big mouse) and his lackey ninja crows (The leader is named Bad Bird) get up to mischief.
It’s one of those anime where the translators saw the original Japanese script, went “PBBBT!” and decided to just write whatever came to mind, no matter how outdated or cringingly awful the humor was. It’s why we have the Big Cheese (who was a fox in the original Japanese), as well as an old crow named Jerry Atric and a dog named Al Dente (for no particular reason except that it was a pun). The very theme song sounds like the performer got himself drunk and just sang the first pizza-related puns to come to mind while inexplicably channeling the B-52s.
And O LORT did 4th Grade me devour it.
My first pieces of real writing were, no lie, Samurai Pizza Cats fanfic. I even attempted to write a musical at some point but stopped because, even in my ill-advised elementary school days, I knew the world did not deserve an atrocity of that scale. (Also I have no idea how to write music.)
Soon after that, Warner Brothers released Cats Don’t Dance – which is a fantastic movie and thus has no place on this list, but kicked my cat-based writing fling into a full-on hobby. For the next several years, I spent all of recess and free time exploring my fictional world of my Wild Cats – a bunch of anthropomorphic cats who…well, actually I can’t remember what they did because high school me burned all the old manuscripts out of embarrassment. But I bet it was incredible.
And that interest still sticks with me today, albeit in a different form. Although I’m far from a furry, I do enjoy writing talking animal characters and building complex cultures around them – something that surfaces quite prominently in the dogmen and Brunl (bear) cultures in The Wizard’s Way (and is explored in even more depth in the upcoming The Wizard’s Circus).
Quest for Camelot
If Samurai Pizza Cats was my gateway drug to writing, Quest for Camelot was the bag of [insert drug of choice here] in which I planted my face, heart, and soul, and let’s face it, never really came up for air.
Quest for Camelot is a miracle of a movie in that it has an A-List cast (including Cary Elwes and Gary Oldman); top tier musicians of its time (Celine Dion and Andrea Frickin’ Bocelli); and came from Warner Animation in between two of the greatest modern animated films (The Iron Giant and Cats Don’t Dance)…and yet somehow ended up one of the worst big budget animated films ever made.
The Nostalgia Critic has already covered everything that makes it terrible, and Jacob could barely make it through that. It is literally so terrible that Jacob has promised to watch it with me only as a landmark anniversary present.
I came upon Quest for Camelot in a roundabout way, finding the movie novelization on my 5th Grade English teacher’s shelf and picking it up because I’d read anything that had to do with Arthurian legends. Though the book was a pretty standard medieval fantasy – Tomboyish girl who wants to become a knight goes on a quest to save Excalibur – it had many details that snagged my attention more so than other fantasies I was reading at the time. First, one of the main characters is blind and yet, despite this seeming flaw, an essential and active contributor to the protagonist’s quest. Second, he has a falcon companion, which is just badass. And third, its heroine was a female adventurer, and in a lot of the books I was reading at the time, this wasn’t the case. All this to say, I was a hardcore Quest for Camelot fan before my parents even took me to see the movie. After the movie, I was 3000% a fan and writing tons of fantasy inspired by its world.
Which is why I was bewildered when I watched it again as an adult and realized that it is, in fact, a dumpster fire of a movie. XD I vividly remember being excited to show it to my cool college friends…who not even halfway through went WHAT IS THIS HP I CAN’T EVEN. This in the days before it was fashionable for millennials to lack the ability to EVEN. This from a crowd that had regular Mystery Science Theatre 3000 movie nights. It’s that bad.
Warner Brothers tried SO HARD with this movie, but at some point, all their grand plans went to hell and gave us okay-hand-drawn-animation-to-atrocious-CG-animation, a sense of humor that doesn’t know if it wants to stay in its world or go full Looney Tunes (There are ACME references), and a plot that craps on every single bit of potential presented by its Arthurian world. King Arthur is only in the movie long enough to be voiced by a James Bond actor pretending to be Sean Connery (perhaps a First Knight reference, but let the complexity of that irony sink in), before his arm is broken when a griffin snaps Excalibur off the back of his seat – not even in a battle, not even out of his hands. He tells his peeps to find Merlin and go after Excalibur, at which point Merlin’s like “Hm, I’m just gonna send this falcon to protect the sword. He’s got this.” And so it’s up to Kayley, the aforementioned tomboy farm girl, and Garrett, the aforementioned blind dude, to save the sword. Because everyone more qualified – like, I don’t know, actual knights – is too indisposed by, I don’t know, listening to King Arthur’s terrible accent. Or maybe hypnotized by bad guy Ruber’s eyebrows.
(For real, I am pretty sure his eyebrows had their own animator.)
(And maybe he had his own choreographer for this jam.)
(Ok, for real, I’m done now.)
I could go on about the obvious villain, his nonsensically complicated plot to take over Camelot, the fact that he uses a magic (ACME!) potion to turn his underlings into half-weapon people as if maces for hands are somehow more practical than, I don’t know, hands for hands. Not to mention the one rooster he turns into a half-axe like really, dude, what’s a rooster going to do with an axe face?
Even so, 5th graders don’t think about those kinds of things when they watch movies, so Quest for Camelot snatched my interest away from talking cats and poured it all into medieval adventures. Most of my stories through junior high were medieval fantasies featuring kick-butt girl protagonists, falcons and hot blind hermits, and again, some of those elements surface in The Wizard’s Way. Chaucey’s pal Ellid totally has a sassy griffin companion because of Ruber’s griffin minion, and the medieval aesthetic that pops up in certain areas of Aurica (the Queen’s Guard wearing ceremonial armor, for example) is a definite holdover from my medieval fantasy days.
Atlantis: The Lost Empire
https://youtu.be/D_1yq1xJ3QA
[Insert sound of all steampunkers clutching their pearls]
Admittedly, it pains me to consider Atlantis a bad movie, given the place it holds in the hearts of dual Disney and steampunk fans (myself included), and given that we rarely get animated steampunk movies at all, much less ones that are that pretty.
When it comes down to it, however, Atlantis is a film fraught with flaws. Much of this seems due to the fact that it changed identities halfway through production, which never seems to end well for movies. (Apparently it was going to be a monster movie in an early stage, before it became more focused on the city of Atlantis itself.) Even so, a change in focus is no excuse for the undeveloped characters, predictable plot twists, and convenient-for-the-moment plot details that don’t make any sense in a larger context. (Like, how can the Atlanteans speak modern languages without having been exposed to the development of those languages, and why do they know all those languages BUT NOT REMEMBER HOW TO READ THEIR OWN NATIVE LANGUAGE. 😐 Why entrust the health of an entire expedition to a cook who doesn’t understand the four basic food groups? How on earth could a 16-year-old be the most experienced mechanic Whitmore could find?)
The logic of the movie’s world-building is terrible.
However – and it’s a big HOWEVER – its individual pieces had the makings of something great, and this is why Atlantis still holds onto its place in my heart with giant crabby Leviathan claws.
Much as with Quest for Camelot, the details that grabbed me with Atlantis were the ones I wasn’t seeing in other stories at the time. The hero of the movie is not a conventional adventurer, but a weedy little linguist of all things.
Its princess was not a porcelain doll trapped in a castle, but a warrior (uncommon in animated films at the time) who was more concerned with helping her people than being the hero’s girl (though the end of the movie suggests they ended up together). Really, all of its women were quite capable on their own.
Most notable for me was its effortlessly diverse cast, all characterized with little nuggets of backstory that made them just interesting enough…but then, disappointingly, didn’t develop any of that. Atlantis could have approached being a masterpiece if it had dedicated just a little more meaningful screen time to Audrey, Sweet, Moliere, and Vinny (and solved its world-building problems).
But I guess that’s what fanfiction’s for. Likewise, because of those flaws, my imagination ran wild to fill in the gaps, or at the very least play with the movie’s ideas. One of my heroes in an as-yet-unfinished novel was a linguist (albeit a buff linguist who goes on an intergalactic adventure), and again, echoes of Atlantis permeate The Wizard’s Way. Atlantis was the movie that made me want to write a steampunk novel; Chaucey’s last name is Thatcher as a reference to Milo Thatch (Thatcher being an early-production name); the magic mineral clarien is blue because of Atlantis’ magic crystals (though the magic works quite differently); and the central characters are diverse, well, mainly because the real world is diverse, but also because Atlantis planted in my head a notably diverse cast with whom I wanted to spend more time.
This is just the tip of the iceberg. There are plenty of other awful entertainments that drove my writing. Perhaps one day I’ll write about my Digimon/Titan A.E.-inspired world from junior high, or my Monster Rancher/Mystic Knights of Tir Na Nog saga. (Hey, there were a lot of monster shows back then.)
Until then, readers, what are your guilty pleasure movies/TV shows? 😀
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.
What to Read While You Wait for The Wizard’s Circus (or, a Gift Guide for Steampunk/Wizard/Magic Nerds)
Hey, wizard fans! It’s been a while since you’ve heard from me about The Wizard’s Circus, but rest assured, it’s still on its way! The first draft is over halfway finished, with plenty of bears and Pentalion (and if you have no idea what any of that means, find out in Book One, The Wizard’s Way).
In the meantime, here are some reads for you to check out while you wait! These are all books that have influenced my writing of The Wizard’s Quartet series thus far – or, in a few cases, books that spurred me along when I needed that extra touch of inspiration.
The Color of Magic by Terry Pratchett
Okay, first of all, if you’ve never read any Terry Pratchett, you need to drop everything right now, take a few weeks off, and delve into the brilliant fantasy comedy satire that is the Discworld series (and then check out all the BBC miniseries, too, because they’re legit).
The Color of Magic is the first in the series and follows the hapless wizard Rincewind and tourist Twoflower as they go on adventures and get into trouble involving everything from dragons to Death himself to a sentient luggage with feet.
The amazing thing about Terry Pratchett is that he wrote better books while suffering from Alzheimer’s than most people can with a fully functioning brain. You can’t go wrong with any book from the Discworld series, but if you’d like a little direction, some of my other favorites include Interesting Times, Hogfather, The Wee Free Men, Going Postal, Making Money, Monstrous Regiment, and Thud!
Etiquette & Espionage by Gail Carriger
This was the first of Gail Carriger’s books that I read, and I’ve solidly gone from skimming the ARC to wholeheartedly recommending everything else I’ve read of hers (which, at this point, is Curtsies & Conspiracies, Waistcoats & Weaponry, and her two adult series starters, Soulless and Prudence). Gail Carriger is my go-to author when I need some steampunk writing inspiration; her works are a perfect blend of steampunk comedy, magical technology, and Victorian prissiness. Etiquette & Espionage in particular is a fun girl-spy-in-training-on-a-floating-airship-school novel, with an engaging cast of characters and also a hot werewolf and a robotic weiner dog named Bumbersnoot. If you’re into audiobooks, Moira Quirk’s readings of The Finishing School Series are also fantastic.
View from the Imperium by Jody Lynn Nye
JEEVES AND WOOSTER IN SPACE, Y’ALL. That is all.
The Jeeves and Wooster series by P.G. Wodehouse
All right, I can’t mention Jeeves and Wooster without mentioning the actual Jeeves and Wooster books. Pentalion and Chaucey were loosely written to be a steampunked version of the two wherein Jeeves was a swordfighting pug and Wooster was less of an imbecile. (Oh sure, Chaucey still gets himself into trouble, but it has more to do with his being a precocious teenager with some truly wild issues, as opposed to someone who’s just basically dumb.)
Admittedly, the A&E TV series starring Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie as the title characters influenced The Wizard’s Quartet more so than P. G. Wodehouse’s original books (primarily because I’d marathoned the whole series before I even touched the books), but the books naturally hold as much charm as the series. When I needed some extra inspiration (for Pentalion in particular) I’d pick up any book in the Jeeves and Wooster series.
Mortal Engines by Philip Reeve
I could write a whole blog post devoted to Philip Reeve and his fantasy worlds. In fact, I’ve already reviewed Mortal Engines in more detail and a review of Larklight (mentioned below) is forthcoming. Aside from Gail Carriger, Philip Reeve is easily my favorite steampunk author because his worlds are so delightfully imaginative and so effortlessly steampunk. As much as I love it, I find that a lot of steampunk reads like it’s trying so hard to be steampunk, bless its heart. Reeve’s work doesn’t feel like it’s trying at all; it feels like he put pen to paper and magic just happened because some divine being thought readers needed some good in this world. Mortal Engines’ good, in particular, is a tale of traveling cities that eat other cities, amongst plenty of moral dilemmas.
Larklight by Philip Reeve
Where Mortal Engines explores the dark post-apocalyptic underbelly of a steampunk world, Larklight takes readers in the exact opposite direction – into outer space, where pirates and lizard people and giant robot spiders in bowler hats await. Readers who love the whimsical side of steampunk will have a hard time finding a better book.
Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer
Artemis Fowl was one of those pivotal series that I read before I even knew I wanted to write, and that worked its way into my writing style like a force all its own. I owe my current approach to fantasy humor to Terry Pratchett, but Eoin Colfer was the first to show me the possibilities of magical action comedy and even fantasy linguistics. The series-titled first book is a clever, sassy, devious thing that combines young criminal geniuses with magic, fictional languages, and wonderful puns. (Turns out that the word “leprechaun” is just a misunderstanding of “LepRECON,” which is an organization of militarized magical folk.) The second book, The Arctic Incident, takes these basics and then ramps up into a full-on action-adventure story, and the series only spirals into more exciting mayhem from there.
Airman by Eoin Colfer
If you like reading about Chaucey because he’s building a flying machine, here’s a book for you. Historical adventure that is far more adventure than history*, it follows young inventor Conor Broekhart as he goes from being born in the midst of a hot air balloon crash, to building one of the first powered flying machines, to being framed for a crime he didn’t commit…and all the rollicking mayhem that ensues. It’s a fun, fast-paced read that often gets lost amidst Colfer’s avalanche of other work and guided the writing of The Wizard’s Way’s many flight scenes.
*I was disappointed after reading to find that the history of the Saltee Islands was completely made up for the story, so this book is to historical fiction as Indiana Jones is to archaeology.
The Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater
I discovered this series too late for it to actually shape the world of The Wizard’s Quartet, and truly, it doesn’t have much in common with the series other than magic. When it comes to editing rough drafts, though, the audiobook adaptations of this series were my go-to inspiration material. Maggie Stiefvater has a majestic way with words, and Will Patton’s reading imbues each character with unique life.
Paranormal urban fantasy isn’t usually my cup of tea, but this series not only made me like this tea, but savor it.
Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant by Tony Cliff
Swordfighting? Check. Globetrotting? Check. Flying ships? Check. A lady adventurer who escapes from dungeons and fights tigers and robs a pirate’s treasure like it ain’t no thang? Check. A Turkish lieutenant…er…inadvertent traitor who just wants to survive it all and drink some tea? Check.
I returned to this book again and again when I needed some inspiration for The Wizard’s Way because, even though it’s not about steampunk magic or pug butlers, it hits all of the stylistic notes that I wanted the novel to hit – namely its sense of high-stakes derring-do and effortless wit. Its sequel, Delilah Dirk and the King’s Shilling, expands nicely upon the first, and a third, Delilah Dirk and the Pillars of Hercules, is forthcoming (and eagerly awaited on my part!).
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus series by Lydia Sherrer
I literally finished the first book in this series a month before writing this entry, but I can solidly say that fans of The Wizard’s Way will find everything to love in these books. There are wizards, witches, plenty of sass, two wonderfully complex and well-designed magic systems, and (in later entries) a talking cat.
Akata Witch by Nnedi Okorafor
I’ve spread the gospel of this one, too, and put off reading the last chapter of its sequel forever just because I don’t want it to be over. Akata Witch isn’t steampunk, nor does it feature talking animals – but it is the standard to which I hold my fantasy worldbuilding. In Leopard Knocks and its magical Leopard People, Okorafor has created a truly original magic society, albeit one with strong echoes of the familiar (There are a lot of surface similarities to Harry Potter, even though they’re spiritually different). Anytime I’m bummed about writing and need some inspiration, I come back to Nnedi Okorafor’s books.
The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling
What? I’m a millennial. For me, every wizard thing goes back to Harry Potter, and in its earliest stage, The Wizard’s Way literally goes back to me saying, “I want to write a story about a wizard, but I want wizardry to make his life suck so it’s different from Harry Potter.” (Sorry, Chaucey.) 😛
That’s all for now! Readers, what books have been getting you through the wait for The Wizard’s Circus? 😀
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.
Akame Ga Kill – Anime Review
*Thanks to reader John B. for the recommendation! 😀
Akame Ga Kill is a deceptive series.
Its colorful character designs and opening set up – Main character Tatsumi leaves home with two friends to join the Capital army and Be Good Guys – lead the viewer to think that it’s going to be a fun shonen series where characters solve problems through lots of yelling and the power of friendship. After all, the show’s first problem sees Tatsumi separated from his friends and resting at the home of a sweet, hospitable aristocratic family and their soft-hearted daughter, Aria.
It’s not fifteen minutes before the series goes “LOL jk ;P” and rears its disturbing head.
Tatsumi’s two friends? Oh, he finds them. In a vast and gory torture house kept by that family’s sweet, soft-hearted daughter. Who captures and kills lower class wayfarers, because why not? After all, they’re just poor and unnecessary people.
In case you need more evidence of how crazy she is, here’s a pic of her at the height of her crazy:
And the Capital that Tatsumi aims to fight for? Turns out it’s full of more of the same. But he doesn’t find this out until Night Raid, a notorious team of assassins, shows up at the torture house to reveal the truth. Everyone outside the capital has been lied to about the Capital’s competence and purity. By that point, Tatsumi’s allegiance is decided.
Akame Ga Kill, then, is the story of Night Raid as they assassinate all the bad guys.
Akame Ga Kill is a flawed anime, but if you’re looking for a bright, colorful, and yet exceedingly tragic, bloody show, it fits the bill. Its particular brand of insanity is what anime does best – and oh, there is SO MUCH insanity – but you have to be in the mood for its violent sense of morality.
Granted, the series isn’t trying to make you ponder the complexities of said morality. It gets around the obvious moral issue of solving problems though murder by making most every one of the antagonists an undeniable caricature of abject evil. Prime Minister Honest (ha) is a nasty piece of work, the true power behind the child Emperor’s throne, interested only in maintaining his power and blatantly corrupting the young Emperor to do it, all while munching gluttonously on raw meat.
The most obvious in the series, though, is General Esdeath. One of the most powerful military leaders in the Empire, her mantra is “The strong survive and the weak die,” and she tests the strength of her opponents to sadistic ends, at one point even burying a population of 400,000 people alive.
In most cases, I’d consider the extreme characterization to be cheap writing, but Akame Ga Kill has such fun with the absolute wackiness of its characters, good and bad, that this was for once forgivable. Seryu Ubiquitous may be an overzealous Capital soldier with a twisted sense of justice, but this zeal also led her to have hidden guns installed in the stumps of her arms and her throat, which is simultaneously disturbing and hilarious.
And that’s before you even get to the adorable horror that is her pet (and additional weapon) Coro.
(This is not his final form.)
For real, this show watches like Soul Eater and One Piece had a baby and then left it to be raised by Future Diary.
That said, Akame Ga Kill is a show that you watch for how wack it is. Even the good guys have their levels of crazy, like Sheele, whose backstory is that she’s so darn clumsy and absent-minded that she can’t find anything she’s good at…until she happens to go on a murdering spree and realizes she’s just that good at killing people. (Also she fights with a giant pair of scissors.)
And even though Tatsumi is easily the most well-balanced of the characters, it takes him and his innocent-looking sweater less than half an episode to decide that he wants to kill everyone he’d wanted to work for fifteen minutes before.
But that doesn’t mean the characters aren’t well developed in their own weird ways. The first several episodes of the series are a bit average, but when The Jaegers take the place of the early antagonists, the series really begins to take off.
Mundane-looking Wave is a do-gooder like Tatsumi who just hasn’t realized what the Capital’s up to. He’s what Tatsumi could have become if he hadn’t come upon Aria’s murder house, and this makes him surprisingly easy to sympathize with. Bols is a creepy-looking silent type…who stays creepily silent only because he’s too shy to speak up, and is actually something of a family man. Angel-haired Run is allied to the Capital only because he sees the revolutionary cause as a lost one and wants to do actual good from within the flawed structure. Though Seryu is nuts, she genuinely believes her intentions are pure. Granted, the stylish Dr. Stylish is just nuts and the remaining Kurome has a rather uninteresting backstory. But even General Esdeath has a softer side: despite her infamous sadism, she only wants to experience true love, and when she eats a good ice cream, wonders if her soldiers would enjoy it. This doesn’t really make up for the fact that she’s an absolute sociopath, but it is amusing to watch, if only for its absurdity.
Overall, this is a show that you watch more for its characters than its plot – first because the plot is the very simple “Kill all the bad guys,” second because the plot is not very good.
Akame Ga Kill watches like a show that tries to do both too much and too little in the expanse of its allotted time. The first several episodes watch like baddie-of-the-week filler, albeit entertaining filler. The series also introduces the concept of the 48 Imperial Arms – some truly neat magical weapons – but doesn’t explore them beyond using them to give the characters their identifying abilities, and generally watches like a device that was intended for a longer show that didn’t happen. (We don’t even see half of the 48.) There’s also a point where Esdeath decides that Tatsumi is her true love; Tatsumi confesses his connection to Night Raid in the same episode, hoping her affection for him will cause her to change sides. She doesn’t, viewing his confession as merely cute, which is not remotely believable behavior for a general who’s famous for subjugating enemies of the Empire in horrific ways – and whose very goal is to destroy Night Raid.
The climax of the show is also a hot mess, with the young Emperor realizing that he hasn’t been a good Emperor and that he’s been surrounded by complete sadists (HOW COULD HE NOT NOTICE?)…and then bemoaning his condition by whipping out the biggest Imperial Arms ever and wrecking the heck out of the Capital. Because that will certainly make up for all his failures. 😐
There’s not even a clear reason for the title by the end. Sure, the titular tsundere Akame plays a significant role in the series, especially after her sister Kurome shows up as an antagonist, but her role’s no more significant than that of the other protagonists. (It’s telling that I didn’t feel the need to mention her before this point.)
Maybe she earned the title because she’s one of the few survivors? (Oh, right, like you expected a show like this to let your favorite characters live. 😛 )
Still, despite its flaws, Akame Ga Kill is worth watching for what it does well. It’s not for everyone – particularly those who dislike bloody violence or shows that require a huge suspension of disbelief – but if you’re already accustomed to the wacky heights that anime can achieve, it’s a fun show.
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.
Self-Publishing for Profit – Book Review
These days, “How to Self-Publish” books are a dime a dozen. Chris Kennedy’s Self-Publishing for Profit is $6.99 on Kindle, but it’s easily the best $6.99 you’ll ever spend if you’re looking to break into self-publishing.
Kennedy’s writing background is similar to that of many indie writers, which is to say, he’d never really been a writer until he suddenly had an idea that wouldn’t let go (in this case, the idea that became his book Red Tide: The Chinese Invasion of Seattle). Since then, he’s gone from never having written a novel at all to writing several series and an ever-growing universe with several other authors and running his own publishing house. All this said, it makes him a perfect teacher for new writers who are starting in a similar position.
This is what makes Self-Publishing for Profit stand out from other self-publishing books. Though its first three sections focus on information similar to what you’d find in other books – namely, marketing and engagement – the fourth is where the book becomes truly valuable for writing newbies. It outlines everything from how to figure out what kind of book you should write (Tip: Don’t just follow trends, and try to be niche when you can.), to creative writing tips he learned through trial and error, to a section literally titled “How Not to Look Like a Newbie.” Formally-trained writers won’t have much use for this section, but if you’ve barely ever picked up a pencil except to write a grocery list, this is the section for you.
Formally-trained writers, depending upon their experience with book production, will have some use for the fifth section, which outlines how to perfect a book for publication. This section covers the different types of editing (copyediting and content editing), how to go about finding editors, words to avoid, and simple ways to tighten up your writing. Before I started publishing, writing had been one of the defining elements of my life – the people around me have identified me as “the writer” since 4th grade, and I took as many creative writing classes as I could and even majored in creative writing at one point – and there were a few practical tips in this book that I hadn’t come across even in my years of study!
These sections, then, are a gem for the new and inexperienced writer. The subsequent sections, however, are invaluable for writers of all kinds. Sections six through nine cover the important details one must consider to give a book the best chance of selling. Section six covers basics like cover design, while section seven covers how to make the book available for sale as an eBook. Section eight, though, is where this area begins to shine, covering the many ways in which books can be repackaged for sale – as print books, audiobooks, or foreign-language editions – and providing the reader with the resources to make those versions happen. This is perhaps the most valuable thing about this book – for every piece of advice given, there are links to resources where readers can pursue that topic further. Section nine delves back into marketing, and the book ends with section ten, which explores what to do next, whether you want to continue producing books, or whether you want to figure out why your current book isn’t selling as well as you’d hoped.
All in all, Self-Publishing for Profit stuffs a whole lot of information into a small, quick, easy-to-read package. If you want to self-publish but have no idea where to start, this is a great place, and even if you already publish, it can’t hurt to give it a read. You’re bound to learn something new!
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.
Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi – Movie Review
SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE! SPOILER SPACE!
SPOILERS AHEAD.
YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.
H.P. is a pretty casual Star Wars fan. Which is to say, she enjoyed the original three, tolerates the prequels, loves the porgs even if she wonders what they taste like, and her most pressing fan question is “WHYYYY hasn’t the Star Wars Christmas Special been re-released yet?”
Jacob is not. Which is to say, his first pieces of writing were Star Wars fanfic. He has a level of reverence for the Empire that would give Kylo Ren goosebumps. He decorated the Holo dining room with Imperial Fleet propaganda. The Holo dining room table is frequently covered with not dinner, but Imperial Star Wars Armada miniatures, their cards all arranged in the plotting of his next devastating fleet. His most pressing fan question is “WHYYYY does the First Order even exist?”
All this to say, we covered both target audiences that The Last Jedi aimed to please.
Which is to say, when a fan who wants to see a Christmas Special release is disappointed by your movie, you’ve done something wrong.
Which is to say, when a fan whose dining room is a mini Star Wars shrine erupts into an angry rant that ends in impassioned manly fanboy tears at your movie, you’ve done something wrong.
(Seriously, guys, you missed out on some potential Internet gold last week.
Jacob’s still so angry at the movie that H.P. had to write this review.
Also seriously, f*** the First Order.)
To be fair, The Last Jedi is not a bad sci-fi movie. It’s not even a disappointing sci-fi movie. It is, however, an intensely disappointing Star Wars movie. Star Wars is as looming a behemoth in the fandom world as Disney is in the moviemaking world, and both are at their height right now. Given this situation, and its great if derivative trailer, one would expect The Last Jedi to be a perfect marriage of everything fans love about Star Wars and the massive resources Disney can devote to a project of that scale.
Of the considerable resources Disney did fling at this movie, none of them were in the writing department, which is where every single piece of this movie fails.
There are plenty of good moments in The Last Jedi – most of its humor is laugh-out-loud (even if it approaches being too goofy), and the art direction is stellar, especially in the climax – but a movie needs more than a string of unconnected moments to pull it together.
The plot, simply put, is terrible. Its most glaring flaw is the pacing. Most of the film comes down to the Resistance fleet, low on fuel and unable to jump to hyperspace, slowly puttering just out of reach of the pursuing First Order’s cannons. This is literally the opposite of the exciting space battles one expects of Star Wars. Switch to Rey in her quest to recruit Luke Skywalker to the Resistance cause, and we have more waiting – first for Luke to be something other than a crotchety old man who has no time for Rey, then for him to decide to train Rey, then take it back when her power scares him. Switch to the First Order, where Kylo Ren has fallen from grace and struggles with his own deep internal conflict – which could be interesting, but is only expressed through strange Force conversations that he’s able to hold with Rey (any advancements made in which are completely negated by a late-movie twist).
I honestly do not understand how anyone could read this slow-paced mess and decide to throw millions of dollars of funding behind it.
Even worse, though, is the way the movie handles its characters. For all its flaws, The Force Awakens at least set up some interesting characters and relationships – Finn and Poe and their frequent Need of Pilot, Rey and her mysterious backstory, Kylo Ren and all his issues. The Last Jedi explores none of that. In fact, it separates Finn from Poe, reducing Finn to a coward who starts the movie by trying to desert (despite being able to go toe-to-toe with Kylo Ren in the previous movie) and ends up roped into an off-ship side quest trying to hide that he was deserting. Poe, meanwhile, is back on the Resistance cruiser being a loose cannon and generally not being a pilot (except for the movie’s opening scene). Rey spends so much time trying to win Luke that when he finally starts training her, it’s a relief, not a joy, and we don’t learn any more about her than we’d already guessed, even if we do get some neat, weird metaphysical scenes out of it. Of the new trilogy characters, Kylo Ren’s arc had the most potential for development—and did have several exciting “Ooo!” moments—but his considerable internal conflict doesn’t lead him anywhere new or interesting by the end.
Supreme Leader Snoke and Captain Phasma get the worst of it, though. Captain Phasma, at least among fan expectations, has been built up to be an imposing antagonist as cool as her armor. I forgave The Force Awakens for not cashing in on that because, after all, there were two more movies coming at that point, but in The Last Jedi, all Captain Phasma does is botch an execution, fight once, and then fall into a flame pit. Snoke’s identity and ultimate plan was another such highly-anticipated reveal, only to be revealed as…nothing. The only things we learn about him are that he is, in fact, not as giant as his holograms suggest and that he has really snappy taste in bathrobes. He dies without any meaningful bits of his mystery being solved, in the most obnoxious tease-without-a-payoff of the entire movie.
I feel you, Rey.
Again, I simply cannot understand why someone greenlit a script that solved none of the mysteries fans were clamoring to see solved. (We do learn the secret of who Rey’s parents are, and it is unexpected, but it also comes from an untrustworthy source, so who knows if that’s the actual truth?)
Now—ONLY NOW—do we come to the flaws that drove Jacob to absolute nerdrage on the way home from the theatre.
As an avid Armada nerd, Jacob knows his Star Wars military strategy. Whoever created the military circumstances of The Last Jedi does not, and does it hard. The First Order and Resistance are two complete disasters of military planning, and it’s evident from the very first scene.
In it, the First Order hypers in to take out a Resistance base, armed with several star destroyers and a dreadnought, which is basically a bigger, angrier star destroyer with nice guns…and apparently no shields. And no combat space patrol to escort it. Only after Poe—just Poe—flies in on his sassy X-wing and starts taking out cannons does the leadership think it prudent to sent out some TIE fighters to maybe wreck him. But oops, they’re too late; he’s done his job, which is apparently to distract the entire First Order fleet so that five big-ass bombers can appear out of nowhere and advance with excruciatingly slow speed toward the unshielded dreadnought.
Logical problems run rampant here: If the bombers are that slow, how could the First Order not notice them coming in the first place? And if they hypered in, why not hyper in on top of the dreadnought and drop their load there? But wait, you might say! “Drop their load? They’re in space! What gravity are they expecting to pull these bombs into free fall?” Well, The Last Jedi hears your question and answers…actually nope. It doesn’t. But the scene at least gives us some fun Poe being Poe and a touching self-sacrifice (not Poe), so there’s that.
Proceed to the main plot, during which the Resistance fleet is forced to slowly motor away from the ever-patient First Order, and you encounter the frustrating problem of “THE RESISTANCE IS TRAVELING IN A SLOW, STRAIGHT LINE, AND THE FIRST ORDER HAS HYPERSPACE CAPABILITIES. WHY NOT HYPER SOME STAR DESTROYERS OUT IN FRONT OF THE RESISTANCE FLEET AND WIPE THEM OUT IN A SECOND OR JUST SWARM THEM WITH TIE FIGHTERS instead of following them slowly and politely through space I swear is General Hux in the back playing Angry Porgs when he’s not on screen?
It’s not like he’s a competent general, anyway; otherwise he might have realized that the First Order—which nearly controls the entire galaxy—vs. the last 400 Resistance fighters is not a war. It’s an itch, a skirmish at most. A single star destroyer carries more personnel than remains in the entire Resistance (70,000 to be precise)! The scale of this conflict is so unbelievably one-sided that I can’t even fathom how these 400 fighters have managed to evade the First Order in the first place, especially as easily as they’re picked off in this movie, and especially since they’re traveling together in one convenient package. The only explanation I can come up with is that they’re protected by the sheer badassery of Carrie Fisher, which given the logic of this movie, is as reasonable as anything else.
Proceed to the next phase of the plot, where a forgotten, uncharted Rebel base randomly shows up to give the Resistance a big ol’ dose of Hope, and the Resistance decides to evacuate its doomed cruiser to make for the base. In transports that don’t have hyperdrives, even though EVERY Resistance ship has hyperdrives. (On that point, why all head to the base to begin with? Why not scatter and force the First Order to chase more than one target?) That’s another disaster of strategy, but worse is what the movie could have done with this scene, compared to what the movie actually did.
Early in the movie, Princess Leia is knocked out of commission, the rest of the leadership is blown to bits, and so a new character whom I’ve never heard of but is presumably a great leader steps in to take her place. I can’t remember her name, so I’m going to call her Effie Trinket, because she looks like her and has about as much substance…but still gets a heroic death when she decides to stay with the cruiser and provide a distraction…in the form of turning the cruiser toward the First Order and hypering through the whole fleet (more on that later. UGH SO MUCH MORE). Effie isn’t developed. We’re supposed to feel sad at her sacrifice, but we don’t, because we as viewers don’t know her. You know who could have gotten a deservingly heroic death out of that scene? PRINCESS F*****G LEIA. Or even Admiral Ackbar, going down on his iconic Mon Calamari ship. Not some invented one-shot who does nothing more than be a pretty purple piece of cardboard with the apparent ability to break the laws of even Star Wars physics.
Which brings up another great, frustrating flaw. In the very first Star Wars movie (okay, fourth by modern chronology), it’s clearly established that if a hyperdrive detects any obstacles in its path, it sits down like a finicky two-year-old and goes NOPE until its path looks perfect again. It doesn’t have any safeties to be deactivated. It just DOESN’T. And it certainly doesn’t hyper through an entire space fleet.
At least, it didn’t. But here, what makes for a superficially badass scene and sacrifice ultimately rips the world of Star Wars physics apart (and there wasn’t much to begin with). If it’s now possible to hyper through things, why not make hyperdrive-equipped missiles? In fact, why not just strap hyperdrives to anvils if that’s all it takes to wreck a star destroyer? That small suggestion alone completely changes the face of warfare in the Star Wars universe and brings up the all-encompassing flaw in The Last Jedi:
If the movie isn’t going to care about its own lore, why should I?
That is ultimately what sucks the magic out of The Last Jedi.
I can enjoy even a mediocre plot if the world sets and respects its own rules. Once a world breaks its rules for the convenience of its plot, I’m done, and unfortunately, The Last Jedi is a thorough world-breaker.
The film doesn’t even do its fan-service well. In the climax on the Rebel base, it misses a perfect opportunity to send the heroes out in classic X-wings and Y-wings, but instead sends them out in rickety space jalopies that don’t even have a particularly interesting design.
Mercifully, The Last Jedi does have one redeeming quality.
About the only thing it handled well was Luke Skywalker’s personal arc, which sees him through a hard, emotional transformation and drags him through a spiritual gauntlet before launching him out to a truly fitting end. The final battle of the movie has some logical flaws (in terms of military strategy, because of course), but beyond those it’s the stuff Star Wars dreams are made of. Visually, it’s damn beautiful, and emotionally it hits all the notes that the rest of the movie should have hit.
In retrospect, I probably should have cried at the end, and am actually tearing up a bit right now thinking about how well-done it was. But when it happened in the theater, I was so pissed at the rest of the movie that I was just ready for it to be over, which is something neither I, nor Jacob, ever thought we’d say about a Star Wars movie.
Except for its isolated high points, The Last Jedi is an expensive, flashy, unmitigated disaster that might even be on par with Episode III.
But hey, at least it gave us the porgs.
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Entwined – Book Review
Azalea is trapped. Just when she should feel that everything is before her . . . beautiful gowns, dashing suitors, balls filled with dancing . . . it’s taken away. All of it. The Keeper understands. He’s trapped, too, held for centuries within the walls of the palace. And so he extends an invitation. Every night, Azalea and her eleven sisters may step through the enchanted passage in their room to dance in his silver forest. But there is a cost. The Keeper likes to keep things. Azalea may not realize how tangled she is in his web until it is too late.
Dun-dun-DUNNN.
So reads the inner flap of Entwined by Heather Dixon.
I picked up this novel, first, because its cover was beautiful, second, because there is no cover mention of a dashing, mysterious boy for Azalea to fall in love with (always a danger behind pretty girl-in-a-dress covers), and third, because a line on the first page describes someone who “dances like a brick.” As someone who does, indeed dance like a brick, I can empathize with that. Also, as far as similes go, that’s a pretty good one, and I am a fan of good similes.
Dancing is wholly important to Entwined, as it is based upon the fairy tale “The Twelve Dancing Princesses.” However, though it has fairy tale roots, it is not entirely the froofy novel that one might expect. Oh, there are plenty of balls and suitors and giggling in poofy dresses and, especially, spinning around to an array of dances that no one but a ballroom dancing aficionado could recognize. Plenty. Beneath its glittery surface, though, Entwined is ultimately a story of loss, recovery, and sisterly girl power, and as fairy tale adaptations go, it’s one of the more satisfying ones out there.
Oddly for a fairy tale novel, Entwined doesn’t give many early hints that it is based upon a fairy tale, which was one of its strengths for me. There are some references to old magic that lingers in the royal family’s palace, as well as the disgustingly evil former king who magicked the place, but most of the pages are devoted to the twelve sisters and their relationships with each other and their father. There is a mother at one point, too, but in classic fairy tale fashion, she’s dead before the story even gets going. (This is not a spoiler. The moment you meet the sweet, loving, sickly mom who smells of cake and baby oil, you know she’s a goner.)
The interactions between these characters are believable and interesting, often in unanticipated ways. The sisters’ relationship with their father, while precarious, even uncomfortable at first, became one of my favorite parts of this novel. I also liked how the author managed to keep all twelve sisters present in the story. She could have easily chosen to select two or three of them to represent the whole and then shooed the rest to the background, but she didn’t. Readers do see more of oldest sisters Azalea, Bramble and Clover (The sisters are named in alphabetical order, like hurricanes), but the others appear often enough to make the reader feel the largeness and, more importantly, the closeness of the group.
Even the minor characters in this novel are well-used, even though most of them begin the story as either supreme irritations or suspiciously likable in the obvious-romantic-interest way. A character of the latter sort almost derailed my liking of the book early on. At the book’s opening ball, we meet the rumpled yet dashing Lord Bradford, who has such amazing dexterity that he can catch a falling pudding glass and leave its contents perfectly undisturbed. In my experience, when a character is rumpled, dashing, and named “Lord” anything, when he impresses the ladies with amazing feats of legerdemain, and when he appears less than 30 pages in, you know some sweet, passionate, period novel romance is coming. Usually. Luckily, Entwined does not go down this path, even though it could easily have done so. And though I was initially skeptical of him, Lord Bradford gradually earned the honor of being added to My List of Fictional Guys that I Would Totally Date If They Popped Into The Real World. Another favorite was the unfortunately named Lord Teddie Haftenravenscher, who despite his initially irritating presence rendered many scenes in which he appeared hilarious. The same is true of other suitors who show up trying to win the princesses’ hands. The cast of characters in this book is large, but each one is handled well for the purposes of the story.
The one main downside to this large cast, though, is that in a book this size, it leaves minimal room for characterization. The characters are likable and well-described, but even the princesses do not change much, except to have momentary spurts of courage or realize that they are in love. In fact, the only person who undergoes any significant change is the King, which is probably why the scenes in which he appears become some of the strongest in the book. The general staticness of the other characters’ development makes for some slow reading in parts. However, the general likability of the characters’ personalities compensates enough for that lack to make the story worth continuing, as does Dixon’s attention to random little details that render the world of her story vivid and entrancing.
Interestingly, I enjoyed most of these little details of the story more than I did the main conflict itself. Oh, yes, the princesses dancing sneakily in a magical hidden clearing with creepy-hot magical fantasy guy Keeper was kind of cool and, if the book is ever made into a film, will make for some awesome visuals. When it came down to it, though, I was more interested in the sisters and their lives than I was Keeper and his motives. And though, by the end of the novel, Keeper is meant to be a truly terrifying figure, I wasn’t as terrified by him as I would have liked to be. However, his evilness does manifest in some visually neat ways at the end, and it does allow for pretty much every character in the story to go out with one big BOO-YA!, which we do not see enough of in books (both all characters having a good send-off and actual use of the word “Boo-ya!” Not that “boo-ya” is actually said in the story, because that would be weird and out of place, but it is totally there in spirit).
Since I am a cover geek, I feel an obligation to comment on Entwined’s cover, too. As I mentioned earlier, Entwined has a beautiful cover, with wonderful curly lettering, shiny leaf-shaped silver detailing, and a back-shot of a girl in a pretty but slightly shabby-looking gown—a perfect fit for the story because silver becomes more important than one would expect, and because the princesses in question are not from a particularly rich kingdom (another element that I liked. When was the last time you saw a poor-ish princess?). As beautiful as it is, though, it is still one among many girl-in-a-dress covers that seem to be gracing the YA shelves these days, and because of that, it risks being lost between [insert book of the moment here] and all of its cousins.
Enter the savior that is Heather Dixon’s blog.
I liked Entwined enough to scour the Internet for the author’s blog, and found it at http://story-monster.blogspot.com. Dixon was (and still is) a storyboard artist before she became a published author, and as artist-writers tend to do, she produced some art in keeping with her story. My initial reaction upon finishing the book was a positive one, but after visiting the blog and seeing her art, my reaction rocketed from one that I could coherently describe to “OMG AZALEA AND BRAMBLE LOOK LIKE DISNEY PRINCESSES BUT AWESOMERRRRR!!!1!1!!lsfjsklajf jailf 😀 ”
Exactly that.
I am totally an animated princess fangirl. Even for princesses that no one cares about anymore (Odette and Amalthea, anyone?). And Entwined’s cover, as beautiful as it is, does not exude that “THIS COULD TOTALLY BE A PRINCESS MOVIE BUT BETTER” vibe that Dixon’s art does, which is a shame. Her art isn’t even featured in the book itself, which is a greater shame. I know that the publisher is trying to appeal to the masses who can tolerate generically pretty girl-in-dress covers, as well as the audience that likes fairy tale books but shuns the illustrated ones as too childish. Still, as is, the cover and lack of illustrations are causing it to miss that valuable princess-fangirl audience (Don’t laugh. THERE ARE MORE OF US THAN YOU THINK). I’d like to see an edition of the book designed and illustrated by Dixon herself for this very reason. It would do the story better justice.
In essence, Entwined is unique among fairy tale adaptations in that it’s more interested in its characters than its magic. If you are looking for a subtly-realized book about sisterhood and light romance with a dash of magic thrown in, it’s highly recommended. It’s also recommended if you love Disney princesses and animation in general, because though it does not look it, this book is an animated classic waiting to happen.
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EXTRAS!
If you’re not a fan of Heather Dixon at this point, you will be after seeing this coloring sheet that she produced:
Also, her Deviant Art page: http://betterthanbunnies.deviantart.com/
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Note: Holo Writing is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program and, as such, may earn a small commission from any product purchased through an affiliate link on this blog.