Time After Time (...before time, then at the same time... or something)

I'm over a week late with this. I blame time streams.

So it's half time in the latest Doctor Who series. Thanks America. Season splits are an awesome idea(!) But anyway...

I love Doctor Who. The concept is brilliant. The character is just my favourite shade of nutty. The presumably accidental idea of regeneration is such an amazing addition to character development and I imagine offers so much room to play. It must be a dream to write for.

I'd hate writing for it.

There's been something amiss with this series. Possibly, there is a part of this that stems from the fact it is a new episode of Doctor Who, rather than a new episode of Mr Moffat's other project, Sherlock; a series so good it makes Lucy Liu an unattractive concept (see thoughts on Elementary, i.e.: why bother, there's already Sherlock. Lucy Liu isn't going to make that go away). But it is more than this. There is room in my life for two awesome series, I can't see why I would exclusively want only one.

And before anyone suggests the problem may be very Matt-Smithish in appearance, don't bother. As far as I'm concerned Mr Smith, along with Miss Gillen and Mr Darvill comprise the best line up of Team TARDIS since the reboot. I can conceive of the notion that Matt's portrayal of our favourite (and only) Gallifreyan is precisely why I still watch.

And I don't think it's the writing. Moffat et al have fairly routinely produced thundering rollercoasters of enjoyment for every episode. He's definitely stretched the suspension of disbelief at times but it has tended to work out fine by the end.

This series, though. I don't know. Something is getting me rankled about the story so far. I couldn't work it out until this sub-finale that... oh. Spoilers are probably going to crop up from here on in. Fair warning.

As we said our goodbyes to the Ponds, whisked off into the past to a Manhattan made inaccessible by a highly unstable time stream, there was just one thought which totally killed the ending for me, and suddenly made all my problems clear as crystal.

Time travel is a really idiotic plot device.

As I sat there, watching Matt Smith shine in his moment of utter despair, telling us exactly what the Doctor would have felt as if it had really happened, all I could think was, 'Why did they not just arrange to be picked up outside of New York a year later?' I didn't see anything to block doing this, other than nobody thinking logically. The Doctor and River could have just got into the TARDIS, set a course for Boston, a year after the issue with the Angels and picked up Rory and Amy who would have had a lovely, year long adventure in America. At no point did it come across that this would be impossible.

And I think that this issue stems straight from how ridiculously complex time travel ends up being. It's easy to think about it, easy to picture obvious physical laws that would theoretically exist in travelling through time. But try sticking it to a narrative and, unless you are rigid, you get problems. It feels like the Doctor's writing team were working on mixed messages, or maybe were simply using differing and contradicting possibilities as it suited the story. Which is fine. An artist has got to have license and audiences will be willing to accept things like this if it makes the story compelling. But I am absolutely the most pedantic person in the world, and I will sit there and gripe when you suddenly close a door you had been prancing through, back and forth, for 5 series previously. And time travel has lots of doors. Loopholes, even. And I know that this is why I get a bit uncomfortable around time travel. It is the ultimate Deus Ex Machina (there's an ultimate problem, but who cares? We'll just go back in time and make it so it didn't happen), but you can't have it solve every problem, or there would be no tension. Thus, inconsistency is inevitable.

Yet, I have so much experience in watching and enjoying time travel stories. Aside from the good Doctor there is a plethora of stories I have experienced that have used time travel as a key feature. In fact, it happens so often I can't think of any specific examples other than Back to the Future. Oh, and Night Watch by Terry Pratchett. Well done me. They do, however, somewhat conveniently, offer me contrasting approaches to time travel. Everyone knows Back to the Future. Kid unwittingly ends up in the past and screws everything up so has to unscrew everything or he ends up having never existed. A classic grandfather paradox. He then finds out that the minor screw up that remains has altered his time and made his father a major success, before two more films happen. The point being that the story adheres to the idea that you can change the past and alter your present, retaining your old knowledge at the same time. And I hate this. The completely nonsensical detritus that remains when these stories have bulldozed through a time stream.

The other example, Night Watch, does things a bit differently. I'll try to sum it up without spoilers. And remember what happens. Let me just read the Wiki entry...

...

OK, so, essentially, the time travellers take up roles within the original passing of time, the protagonist filling the role of mentor to his younger self, ensuring that things go as recognised in history. I think things do sort of change, but it's insinuated that it all leads to the same result, anyway. It follows the logic that, if you go back in time you cannot change anything because you would already done those things in your time line for you to be where you started. If that makes sense. Its a much more solid time stream without paradoxes littering the story. Much tidier, much more comfortable to live with.

But that's probably the only tidy way of doing time travel: whereby, you aren't changing anything. The problem you get then is 'Why bother time travelling at all?' This is why I don't want to do time travel. It rarely adds to a story's cohesion, and that clearly matters to me far too much. I'm very willing to see people try but I think I know too much about time travel now to be as able to disconnect myself from what I see as glaring paradoxes.

Obviously, hating the concept of time travel and loving time travel stories is a bit weird. But at least it's not a paradox. I can take comfort in that, at least.

Sycophancy

It's not often I post blogs. Even less do I blog about "what I'm feeling." Certainly not since escaping the teen years.

But no thing can maintain itself forever. Which is a shame.

My recent absence I will shamefully put down to my concentrating on 'proper writing,' which is a ridiculous excuse, I know, but such is my mind that it can, as yet, only focus on one of a type of thing at a time.

Something that has inadvertantly come about from a new found determination to finally get some shit done has been an almost sub-conscious thought experiment, an ethereal by-product that grows with every word I add in futility to what ever page I am unblanking. This is the worry of what to do with the results.

But I know the answer. Or, at least, I know of an ideal solution.

I may have mentioned this before but I habour an ever-expanding and unfathomable admiration for Penny Arcade and the empire that now hosts it. I imagine, to normal people, these efforts may not be all that extraordinary but I find myself struck down in awe by their progression from fledgling, Internet-based comic strip to a now fully fledged Goliath of Humour that is still based, primarily, on the Internet. This is something worthy of emulation.

But, a business is worth nothing if the "product" is worthless. Conveniently, this is not the case with the Penny Arcade strip. Now, while I appreciate the quality of artist Mike Krahulik's work in the strip, especially recently, I can't draw. I have no knowledge of drawing or the skills that go with it. I could as much tell you how Krahulik stacks up against other artists as I could rate a partiular ninja against other ninja. I confide myself in just acknowledging the ninjaship. He ninjas well. I think the analogy is beginning to fall apart.

(This is where the feeling-y bit starts. Brace yourselves.)

Being a writer, however (not the most prolific one, I grant you), I can comment fairly coherently on the wordsmith of the comic, Jerry Holkins. And I will. I will do so with much enthusiasm.

I love the man's writing. His abilities in pacing and structure can be masked by the very jokes they work to construct or the visual comedy from the art but, having spent as much time staring at his web page and gorging on the literary feasts in the news posts that accompany the strips, I could quite happily wax lyrical about the almost melodic quality in his sentence structure, the extensive and often gorgeous vocabulary like the ornamentals of one of Bach's fugues. And he does this talking about video games.

I don't really talk about inspirations. I think maybe my instinct is to be intimidated instead of inspired. That was certainly true with music. The bands I respected most scared me off as I believed I could never amount to that.

With writing, I don't seem to get that. Words are a much more intuitive concept for me. I can see almost straight away how the combination of letters and commas arranged in front of my works. There's a degree of intimidation but I can see the path up the mountain. Jerry's writing: his words, his measure, the images and insights he conjures; It's like Everest. But his writing is so well crafted, so graceful. It's hard to feel anything but inspired, to aim for that peak. Jerry hypnotises like a piper, leading the way up the mountain path.

I try to temper my enthusiasm as much as I can when it comes to literary idols of mine. I worry that I might end up simply mimicking their style rather than infusing it into my personal style. I always look over my writing and worry that it may as well be Terry Pratchett fan-fiction. I once considered writing a series of blogs regarding my thoughts on modern attempts at hedonistic living but discarded these as they looked like a sequel to Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. But the lust for language and description that Holkins exhudes in his writing is a state I am quite willing to live in solidly, at least for a little while. A shift in focus from the long arc of the story to the sensual immersion in the shorter moment might just be what I need to produce an improvement in how I write.

This relies, of course, on an improvement in frequency. I should probably work on that too.

The Games Parade

It’s fairly painful even thinking about games at present. Due to a fairly restrictive income and a general inability to make any assured decisions with what to do with my free time I feel like my current relationship with games is akin to them being the shiny thing that came to be in my possession inside a locked glass cabinet for which I was not given the key.

I really want the shiny thing. I just don’t trust in it enough to smash open the cabinet. Besides, I might need the cabinet. Cabinets are important when you’re supposed to be an adult, right?

But there it is. What with one thing and another, I have kind of stepped out from the games machine for now and, slightly distressingly, maybe forever.

But games are still very shiny. More than ever, perhaps.

And this weekend has been the annual parade of shiny things, E3. I’ve not often paid much attention to it but I always appreciated the announcements and the inevitable awkward and embarrassing moments from the Big 3 consoles as they make their presentations. But, for those not connected enough to actually be there in person, the real attraction of E3 is the plethora of trailers and game play footage that get brought out for the occasion. Quite frankly, what I have seen from this year’s showcase has been almost incandescent.

If you haven’t seen the trailers, there are plenty of ways to do so, so I won’t give any transcripts or anything. But, as I’m sure you can imagine, they were typically shiny and alluring. However, I couldn’t help but notice that, with my cynical sunglasses shielding my eyes, there was just the slightest hint of forced lighting behind the glow. As is the way of trailers, I guess.

Now, I know trailers are, when all is said and done, the worst indicator of whether anything will be worth your time. They are marketing tools, engineered so as to appeal to as wide a scope of demographic as it can. They can, conveniently, cut out all the bad that might exist within a game and completely camouflage what type of game you’ll end up playing. They are aloof, mysterious creatures, dancing in the light, singing from the rocks and telling us absolutely nothing.  Or telling us too much, at least in terms of story. My biggest issue with the Tomb Raider trailer was how much of the story was just nonchalantly spilled out to us. It’s annoying and something I know has been bugging film viewers for years as well.

Tomb Raider is proving to be a real puzzler for me, personally. The original games I missed out on due to not getting a Playstation until five minutes before the Playstation 2 came out but I’ve witnessed them through friends and the action/puzzles/adventure mix that I saw was enough to pull me in and drag me to buy some of the later games on the later generation consoles. They hold a place in my heart, even if the ridiculousness was gradually escalated with each new instalment. I totally accept the need for change. This new game is looking like a serious change. For once, Lara actually looks like a real woman. This is definitely change.

The quite-astonishingly-large-elephant-in-the-room surrounding the game, though, is that, well, it’s very sinister. Now, alright, running around long-lost tombs shooting tigers and finding world ending artefacts to add to your collection is also very sinister. But the footage released so far is looking for a new scale in terms of sinister. This search is being carried out alongside The Last of Us; a brutal survival-fest through fungus afflicted zombies and roving bandits. Typical game scenario. But, like Tomb Raider, the content so far has been intense, to say the least.

I’m not coming out against the portrayal of such subjects. I view video games as an art form and, as such, should be allowed to present whatever they want if done so in the interests of art. And these games are definitely doing what they are doing for a reason. I can definitely see that. Additionally, this dark ‘realism’ is nothing new. Remember Saw? But I didn’t see those films. Never wanted to. I just didn’t feel that spending my free time watching two hours of hyper-real violence was a good way of stepping out of real life for a bit. I worry that the more I see of these games as more and more trailers and game play footage is released, the more I will worry these games are eschewing art for violence.

Inversely, I also worry that as more footage is released it will ruin the experience of playing the game. Both these games have taken much effort in showing the world and horror that you as the player will be submerged in that they are actually taking away some of the horror. The publishers have certainly succeeded in piquing my interest but I’m definitely a bit sore that I’ll miss out on the suspense and shock from the game play experience. I guess, in that respect, this is a no-lose situation for the publishers.

It is this reason that has kept me from seeing the new footage of Assassin’s Creed 3. In fairness to Ubisoft, they tend to do well at keeping secrets but I just don’t need to take that risk. I definitely want to play their game, they have thoroughly hooked me. I don’t need to see anymore until release day. To the other extreme, I took a look at the trailer for The Unfinished Swan, and learned very little at all. It sounded intriguing but I really will need to see more to know if it’s worth playing. Considering this was E3, you’d feel this was the weekend to have a bit more than an arty teaser for those not able to go there and test it. It doesn’t pay to be uninformed.

Obviously, trailers play a role in marketing and the lustre they generate obviously succeeds. But E3 is fairly unfulfilling in this way. It’s very hard to hear about what the game is. Penny Arcade has made an effort in bringing back information behind the scenes and the returns have been really interesting to me, at least. I can watch trailers whenever. What I want from E3 is more news about the real quality of the game; to hear how it plays, how gripping the story is (without spoilers, obviously), what plans the company has in its further development up to release. I’m tired of just looking of shiny things.

Shut Up and Take My Money

The vast and unyielding demon of procrastination that is The Internet has always proven itself to be an almighty leveller. In an instant; the well respected and admired can be dragged down into disrepute through YouTube just as some loser, 12-year old Canadian with a dorky haircut gets catapulted into stardom on the next link over. Twitter has helped topple dictators and derailed legislation. The internet community has turned ruthless, unforgiving and does not take previous history into consideration.

And so, The Internet has made itself a remarkable example for meritocracy. For every person that is ostracised for a reprehensible act, there is an untapped talent drawing in a very devoted audience. The world of comics, for example, has changed dramatically with the works of Jerry Holkins, Mike Krahulik, Scott Kurtz, et al creating a huge online school of independent cartoonists with a huge following that has begun to rival the devotion to the physical side of comics, dominated by the Marvel and DC Universes. Holkins and Krahulik’s joint creation, Penny Arcade, has evolved into a powerful member of the industry as a whole, with their own convention, PAX, becoming comparable in popularity to the more prolific comic conventions like SDCC. Additionally, the internet has provided a platform for physical comics by independent creators to gain a higher platform through both cheaper and wider advertising mediums and pure word of mouth. By providing a window into every other part of the world, the internet has totally changed the playing field, let alone the goalposts, in terms of media distribution.

The improved influence of the internet has led to the advent of a potentially world-changing concept; crowd funding, the most prominent of these projects being Kickstarter. Since its birth in 2008, the Kickstarter project has been making headlines by showing just how far the rules have been altered. The delightfully reaffirming concept is this: Creators sign up to present a concept through Kickstarter in the hopes of raising money to fund the creation of their project, offering certain perks for various levels of donation. The general public can then peruse these projects and donate to the ones that seem most appealing/deserving. It has garnered overwhelming success. Up to April this year, the site had collectively raised over $170 million with over 20,000 successful projects. One project in particular really started to make people take notice, reaching some incredible landmarks along the way. It reached its set target in just nine hours, managed to raise over $1 million dollars in one day before eventually raising over $3 million by the end of its run. Of course, it may have had a helping hand from the fact that the man asking for the money was this guy called Tim Schafer.

Now, I have an awareness of Tim Schafer. I don’t have the extensive knowledge of his portfolio of work that those who generously donated would likely have but I’m slowly schooling myself to catch up with respected society. However, I have enough experience of his work to know the man is to be admired, having grown up on the Monkey Island games and then finally uncovering Psychonauts after seeing it for cheap on Steam (a common trait with Schafer’s games that has probably been the cause of his turning to Kickstarter). He started out as part of a highly prolific LucasArts games division until they gave up creativity to milk the Star Wars franchise for all it was worth, after which he went on to found Double Fine Productions, following Schafer’s tradition of creating unique concepts and ladling on heaps of absolutely surreal humour. A fantastic combination for enjoyable games, sadly it isn’t so much in terms of marketability. Double Fine’s most notable gaming offerings; Psychonauts and Brütal Legend, both failed to make much of an impact in terms of sales figures, leading to support for Schafer’s future projects becoming difficult to come by. The games have, however, gained a significant cult following. Smaller games have been produced since including the highly regarded Costume Quest and Stacking but these obviously were able to be produced with a much lower budget and were handled pretty much independently.

With this new project, Double Fine Adventure, Schafer is going back to his game-making roots with a point-and-click adventure game. By using Kickstarter, Schafer can raise the investment required without the ‘significant strings attached that can pull the game in the wrong directions or even cancel its production altogether,’ whilst letting the general public into some of the secrets of game production. A more democratic approach to games creation. The original target was a somewhat modest $400,000, at least in terms of the type of funding games usually require. The subsequent and overwhelming success of this fundraising, gaining over 85,000 backers to amass his highly impressive total, suggests he wields a significant audience that thinks Schafer is on to something good.

This presents an interesting question. What is the limit of Kickstarter fundraising? Another project, the E Paper Watch from Pebble, has recently broken the $10 million mark, 100 times more than the original goal set. Granted, the base price for the product and the various reward levels for Pebble were much higher than Double Fine’s and, thus, the average pledge was also much higher; $148 for Pebble, $38 for Double Fine. But this just means that if a good idea is presented attractively enough, people will put forward money for it to be made real. This isn’t too odd a concept, really. People always offer money for goods. Only, in this case, the money is paid first.

The only possibly surprising thing is the extent to which people have chosen to buy into the rewards above simply receiving the basic product, which require much higher contributions. Obviously, the lure of the additional perks plays a part in this but it is not a given; especially in current economic conditions. But, there is a precedent for this kind of generosity. When Radiohead released In Rainbows and gave buyers the option to name their price, including paying nothing, people still paid money, averaging roughly £4 per copy and taking more money than their previous album without including sales of the physical CD when it was released. If you give people the option to take something for free and nearly half still offer to pay money, it shows that there is clearly a strong belief in effort being rewarded.

So, what is to say we couldn’t see a major project, say a Hollywood quality film, finding at least the majority of its funding through a project like Kickstarter? Admittedly, a lot of hugely commercial projects, although that is certainly not the case for all (28 Days Later, for instance), require much, much more than the highest Kickstarter project so far but if the quantities raised continues to increase it would be interesting to see how much the level of project increases as well. Could the possibility of total creative freedom in their projects be an attractive enough prospect for someone like Terry Gilliam to take a punt and put their project on Kickstarter? And would it be successful? Online fundraising projects could, potentially, spark a new renaissance, unhindered by perceived marketability. In fact, it would be direct evidence of the true marketability of a project. If you can get people to pay for it before it’s even made, there is clearly demand for it. If they come anyway, then you should probably build it.

Situations Vacant

OK, here's the skinny.

I have been working on a project and I'm kind of pleased with the progress so far. But I need help taking it further. I've been working on the words for a comic-book-esque story and the first part of it is basically done. Sadly, my drawing capability is only marginally better than that of an eight year old. So this is where you guys come in.

I'm looking for someone to, primarily, do the artwork for me. Bearing in mind that I am keen to set this story upon the general public, I need someone equally as keen to make a career out of this as I am, although I'm sure most illustrators are looking to do just that so I probably didn't need to say anything. Essentially, what I am saying is that if all you do is doodle in notebook margins, you're probably not what I'm looking for.

On the flip side, I'm not necessarily looking for really professional artists either. This is my first real writing project and I'm still working myself into a regular writing routine. This is fair warning that if you get frustrated with delays and faffing about, I will probably piss you off quite royally. Which I can only apologise for.

Above all of this, though, I'm really hoping to find someone that will not just be "an artist," but will openly collaborate and add to the project. Like I said, this is my first proper project and I am more than aware I know next to nothing about good artwork. As such, I would love to find someone who is willing to go through the script and point out any necessary changes to the suggested descriptions and even the story. I'm looking for a creative partner rather than an artistic mercenary.

I am Cambridge based and would be keen to find someone that was based within easy travel distances so we could have face to face working sessions, but I am more than willing to work via the net if I have to. For now, I'd rather not post specifics of the story online for now but I would suggest that anyone hoping to work in a manga format or do anything surreally futuristic may be disappointed. If you are interested I'd love to hear from you and check out any online portfolios you may have. I'll get back to as many as I can and for those that I think might work best I will get you to draw out a scene so I can get an idea of what kind of style you have in mind. I think my email should be somewhere on this page, but in case it isn't you can contact me on simonriley87@hotmail.com.

If you aren't interested but suspect people you know may well be, I would greatly appreciate it if you could pass this on. You might just help in the creation of your future favourite comic book (or, at least, one you kind of like a bit).

Thank you for reading.

Simon