Joining a game writing course

I’ve previously mentioned that I took on the task of writing a screenplay. I am still awaiting news of whether I got into my film program or not. In the meantime I figured I would try another avenue and also sign up for a game writing course. I saw it advertised via Instagram and after looking it up the class and the instructor seemed legit.

The course will last two months, so I’ll be done that by the time I know if I got into the film program.

These other writing ventures came about as a result of my frustration with querying novels. I am still working on it but after 10 years, it can get a bit demotivating. I am hoping that one of these other avenues can also provide a way into writing.

This course is geared towards people who wish to enter the industry, so I’m hoping it can help me out.

The film course starts July, if I get in. By the time I hear back, this course will be completed and I will hopefully have graduated successfully with some new info, skills and connections.

 

So close but not quite there

The few readers of this site may know that I’ve been trying to get a book published since I was 18. The first book I tried with was the first draft of “Elseworld.” The first draft, looking back now, had lots of issues. There were lots of info dumps (still working on cutting those down), and too many characters and subplots.

I rewrote Elseworld multiple times, then started on a second book. Then a third, and now have six. The second, “The Garden of Abel” is now on the site. It is the shortest of my works, so I figured I could try to upload it here to see if it gets any traction. The length makes it a tougher sell for traditional publishers.

I recently rewrote my third book, the fourth needs a rewrite. The fifth is my favourite and the first 1,000 words of the sixth became my first published short story.

I’ve been able to get three more short stories and a poem published since, but these works were meant to serve another purpose. Doing short stories was an exercise to help my pacing, which was pointed out as a weakness by three different agents (who read parts of my book but declined taking it on).

So, I got promising feedback on my fifth book recently, and at first, it seemed like I finally cracked the code.

Then, I get feedback I’m more used to getting.

So again, something is not quite right to get it to the next stage. I was pretty livid when I read this. However, I’m trying to look on the bright side. The pacing was “nicely done” according to this agent. That gives me some hope that the book’s pacing doesn’t have to be a roadblock for any agent, and maybe the same could be said for other works. Perhaps there is a chance that I find the right agent, and don’t have to rewrite all of my books (again).

 

Wokeism and nostalgia

So, most people who spend any time online (or in society) have come across the word “woke.” It was a term originally used by the black community, in a positive way. It has now been rebranded by white conservatives or “centrists” as a criticism of policies meant to promote inclusion.

Nowadays, any film with a female and/or POC cast will usually get hit with that label e.g. The Marvels.

I came across a tweet about the upcoming live-action “Avatar: The Last Airbender” series. The original tweet is discussing the showrunner’s announcement that they would be cutting Sokka’s sexism from the show. In the animated show, his sexism gets called out in episode one and getting rid of it is a big part of his development. So it is disappointing that the show will cut that in order to possibly be less offensive.

Then someone tweets this:

Someone else (accurately) points out that the original series is definitely “woke” by today’s standards e.g. strong female protagonists, sexist male gets put in his place multiple times by women, a blind 12-year old takes on grown men and beats them etc.

What I found interesting was that nostalgia seems to prevent this person from understanding that the cartoon they long for is “woke.” It seems he only wants to paint newer properties with that brush.

This convo just demonstrated an aspect of the anti-woke movement I’ve noticed before, but this is one of the clearest examples I’ve seen recently.

People will praise a film like “Alien” as a great anti-woke film, when the sole survivor and main character is a woman. If that same film came out today, it would get blasted as woke propaganda.

Making progress on screenplay

I am nearing the end of converting one of my works to a screenplay. I don’t want to get too excited about this. I am submitting it for a program and will see if I get in. If I don’t, it seems like the odds of the screenplay going anywhere are tougher than the odds of getting a book anywhere.

I remember being at a Writer’s Digest Conference, where another member said the chance of getting a screenplay published is marginally better than books. Maybe that was back then, this was around 2015. The market is much more saturated now and it seems like having connections is key to breaking in for a lot of people.

Then again, I can only keep trying.

The Holy

I wrote another short story and as I looked through submission guidelines (for short story magazines) I found that a lot of them specifically don’t want any content that deals with children being hurt. Which makes things tough, because that is central to this piece.

I was watching an episode of Reservations Dogs, a story that focuses on Indigenous teenagers. One episode in particular focused on Residential Schools, schools that operated in Canada and the U.S. with the intent of “taking the Indian out of the Indian.” The schools aimed to strip away Indigenous hairstyles, clothing and languages. They were also rampant with physical and sexual abuse.

Since the schools were supported by the Catholic Church, a piece of their programming was to also get rid of Indigenous spiritual practices and replace them with Christianity.

It is that context that birthed my new story, “The Holy.”

There is a scene where the Indigenous kids are singing “Jesus Loves Me.” Being Christian myself, I’ve sang that song plenty of times. Yet I never thought of how unsettling two of the lines sound, especially in the context of a Residential School.

“Little kids to him belong. They are weak but he is strong.”

Without further ado, here is a short piece, “The Holy,” that is inspired by Reservation Dogs.

##

At Sasha’s age, the school bell was supposed to mean freedom. Now it meant that fear would follow.

 

Mrs. Messa usually let her class out a little early, but not anymore. She stood by the door, tense and unsmiling. The past few weeks had changed her, they’d changed everyone.

 

When every student had their items collected, Mrs. Messa had them line up outside the classroom.

Every other teacher did the same with their class. Twelve classes, twelve lines of students.

 

The principal raced down the hall, checking attendance with each teacher.

 

“OK, all good. Out to the front,” he said.

 

The students stayed behind their respective teachers, not making a sound except their footsteps. There was some chatter in the first few weeks. The change in routine was exciting for Sasha the first time. Then it changed from a day, to a week, and so on. First one of her friends disappeared, then three, then five. It was scary now.

 

Once all the kids were at the front, a throng of parents came to pick them up. Other students were shepherded to school buses.

 

Sasha said a quick goodbye to the few friends she still had left. The rest of her class were just acquaintances now. She could barely spell the word, but it seemed to fit.

 

Some students were walking home, but not by themselves. There were now volunteer chaperones with them. Some were teachers, but others were members of the community trying to do their part.

 

“Sasha, let’s go.”

 

Her mom was walking over to her, grabbing her by the wrist and leading her to the car. The teachers saw, but no one commented. They understood.

 

“How was school?” her mom said, loosening her grip.

“It was OK.”

 

Once they were inside her mom gave her a hug that threatened to squeeze the life out of her.

 

“I missed you,” she said.

 

“I saw you this morning,” Sasha said.

 

“I know, I still missed you. Want to have pizza tonight?”

“Sure.”

 

Sasha’s mind conjured up images of pepperoni and pineapple, oblivious to the fog that was starting to creep on her and her mom.

 

“The fog again. Where did all this come from?” her mom said.

 

Sasha refocused. She could barely see a few feet ahead of her. The sun was gone. The car looked like it was floating through a cloud.

 

Her mom turned on the headlights but they only illuminated the grey wall ahead of them.

 

“We have to pull over for a second,” her mom said.

 

The car drifted over to the ride, hitting the curb softly. The touch was reassuring, since there was no other way to tell where the side of the road was.

 

“Will the GPS help,” Sasha said. She tried touching the buttons but the screen was dead.

 

“Looks like it’s down. Even if it wasn’t that can’t help us when we can’t see. We could drive right through a red light.”

 

“Right.”

 

“I’ll call dad,” her mom said.

 

She pulled out her phone, which also seemed to be dead. Touching the screen and hitting the buttons on the side did nothing.

 

“Try yours,” her mom said.

 

As she said that, the car shut off. The music playing lightly was gone, and the air conditioning disappeared with it.

 

Sasha pulled out her phone, which was also dead. Her mom was usually calm, but her face was showing some signs of worry now.

 

“I guess we have to wait then,” her mom said.

 

“This has happened before right? The fog?” Sasha said.

 

“Yes, never been stuck in it myself, but I know some people that have. They said it doesn’t usually last long.”

 

Now Sasha was getting scared. Her mom wasn’t saying it, but she knew the fog always came the same day as a disappearance.

 

“Are we going to be OK?” Sasha said.

 

“Of course, I’m here with you.”

 

Her mom stepped out of the car, being barely visible from a few feet away. Sasha focused on her red shirt, hoping it wouldn’t disappear from her view.

“Come to this side.”

Sasha followed her mom’s voice, and reached for the outstretched hand by the window. As she gripped it, the brown skin turned white. Not white, like a human’s; paper white.

 

The hand gripped hers, lacking any of the warmth of a human. Black nails wrapped around her forearm, tearing strips off her skin.

 

“Little kids to him belong.”

The voice echoed all around her. It was deep, inhuman.

 

The breath was on the back of her neck.

 

“They are weak but he is strong.”

 

Sasha turned around, seeing nothing out of the window behind her.

 

She looked back to where her mom was supposed to be. She saw the red shirt, but the body in it wasn’t her mother.

A stark white face with pitch black eyes stared back.

 

Sasha bolted through the passenger door, not thinking of what she could run into. Her feet hit what felt like grass. She remembered driving by houses before her mom pulled over.

 

She hoped to crash through someone’s front door and find safety with a group.

 

As that thought brought some comfort, her feet sunk into something. It was soft, but dense. It felt like soil, she was getting closer.

 

The next step wiped out any relief. She sunk deeper into the soil, going down to her knees. Her hands plunged in and she instinctively pulled them back up.

 

The fog cleared enough for her to see her hands, which were drenched in blood. She couldn’t be sure that’s what it was, but something in her brain convinced her that’s what she was buried in.

 

It rushed against her chest, passing under her chin.

 

“Little kids to him belong.”

 

She looked around, with her tormenter nowhere in sight.

 

First, her feet were working, trying to get clear of the blood. Now her arms and legs were paddling as the blood kept rushing in around her.

 

The white hand appeared on her wrist again, pulling her out. It hauled her out with ease, leaving all her limbs dangling. Yet Sasha knew she wasn’t safe.

 

The hand led back to a body that Sasha’s mind could hardly comprehend.

 

She realized the hand gripping her was a child’s, but it was pasted onto something else. Behind it was another child’s limb, and then another.

 

“They are weak but he is strong.”

“Comics aren’t political!”

So, was scrolling through Twitter (or X, sorry) and came across this. Another user reposted it with his own critiques, and the comments were tearing Nachtbrezel apart.

This is a clip from the 2001 Justice League series, which is still one of the best animated superhero adaptations.

If you go into this clip blind, it appears Superman is telling Shazam that superheroes can’t pick political sides or do commercials.

OK, so that seems like it is clear as day. Nachtbrezel is right, Superman is saying superheroes don’t do politics. Superman has a comics history of being political, Kingdom:Come, is a good example. But if we focus on this show, it appears Nachtbrezel found the perfect clip to sum up his point.

However, since I’ve watched this series multiple times (and still remember this episode), I know that’s not the case.

Here, Superman is criticizing Shazam for taking a picture with Lex Luthor. Luthor, at this point in the show, appears to be reforming. He is trying to create a more positive public image, and the pic with Shazam (along with a Shazam quote) is branded as an endorsement by a newspaper.

That is the context for Superman’s quote about politics. Later in this episode Superman realizes he may have been wrong.

The context for all of this is political. This entire season of the show had a story arc revolving around the Justice League’s conflict with the government. A branch of the government, Cadmus, wants them more controlled.

That is political. But it is tough to know that if you’re only exposure is a 12-second clip. This was honestly eye-opening. How often do people post clips from shows they haven’t even watched, cherrypicking and thinking they owned the libs (or the conservatives)?

This is just another lesson in media literacy. Don’t just read a headline, read the article.

When it comes to this tweet, the part that I found most amusing was the mention of Dwayne McDuffie. McDuffie, RIP, was the co-creator of Static Shock and the main writer for this season of Justice League.

McDuffie was very vocal about diversity in comics, which is why he created Milestone, a minority-owned and operated comic book company.

To paint McDuffie as a good Negro who avoids politics, shows that this user probably Googled the writer after finding the clip. Then he got excited because he could get brownie points for liking a black person’s work, thereby getting a “black friend” card too.

Superhero fitness and the lack of reading comprehension

So today’s post is inspired by this Twitter thread. So first, Paul Rudd discusses how restrictive his diet was for “Ant Man.”

Then the commenter, Dave J. Dixon, uses Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine as another example. Jackman was a relatively last-minute replacement for Dougray Scott, so he didn’t get much time to prep physically. Maybe his X-Men 1 look would be a bit more toned if he had that time.

However, the gulf between the look for X1 and X Men Origins: Wolverine is still huge.

The commenter’s point is that there is now a new benchmark for any superhero. He uses the word “unattainable,” which some pedantic people get stuck on. It is attainable, but not for the average person. Jackman worked out hours a day, with a restrictive diet, and also dehydrated for three days to achieve the look for Origins. The look is not attainable for the average person.

Antman isn’t a superhero known for his ripped physique but even he has to get a topless scene to show off his abs and low body fat.

Of course, the internet isn’t good with nuanced arguments.

“He’s a superhero, he’s supposed to look super.”

Yeah, the point is that such a look is not easy or sustainable for the average person. With the heavy workouts, dehydration etc. it could cause long-term effects. We could start seeing kidney problems pop up for actors going through these transformations, the same way they’ve popped up for some UFC fighters who cut a lot of weight.

And again, Antman wasn’t known in the comics for a shredded physique. Was his diet really that necessary for the character?

The standard set by superhero movies has led to this pic of Jason Momoa getting ridiculed for “dad bod.”

Pictured above: dad bod.

Because Momoa has not avoided carbs and sugar for months, along with working out for months (and maybe some dehydration) people think he looks out of shape here.

The standard for being in shape keeps being pushed higher. Which is what Dixon says in another post in the thread:

“I’m talking about the creeping/increasing scales or demands. It’s not just “you bro, looking fit!” it’s the demand that the studios aren’t ever satisfied, they want these guys to keep pushing further & bigger.”

One interesting thread is all the bitterness people display about actors.

Yes, I get it. They’re rich and famous. Does that take away from the point being made? Does that mean the original comment is invalid. People don’t care if these looks put the actors through hell since they get paid for it.

Apparently the end of AA doesn’t make admission as easy as some thought

Back in June 2023, the Supreme Court struck down affirmative action for colleges and universities across the U.S. Race is no longer a factor in admissions, allegedly.

The original claims reminded me of Abigail Fisher, who I’ve written about before. 

In Fisher’s case, she sued and argued that affirmative action was the reason she didn’t get into her dream school: University of Texas at Austin.

Then it turned out she likely just didn’t have the grades to get in. 92% of the spots went to state students who were in the top 10% of their class academically. Fisher didn’t make the cut for that, and then had to compete for the remaining 10%. She had a SAT below 1200 and her GPA was 3.59. I can’t speak for her extracurriculars but a NPR article describes her SAT as “good, but not great.”

Fisher claimed that she knew people of colour in her high school with lower grades were getting into U of T, but there is a 92% chance she is wrong about that. Also, the stats show that 42 white students with lower grades than Fisher got into U of T at Austin. Only 5 minorities (one black, four Latino) got in with lower grades. Additionally, 168 black and Latino students with better grades were not admitted.

So, all that to say that someone’s idea of AA doesn’t always vibe with the truth.

Now that admissions are coming around again, some of the same people who thought the end of AA would make admissions easy, are finding that may not be the case. This trepidation is revealing some of the anti-blackness of the commentators. Many columnists I’ve read so far are Asian, and demonstrate their own misunderstanding of privilege.

Let me use this article as an example.

So, the author acknowledges the model minority trope, where Asians are viewed as the next best thing to white. According to the stereotype, they’re light-skinned, docile and intelligent. As opposed to black people, who are stereotyped as stupid, lazy and violent.

This passage bothered me and led me to write this post:

There’s a left-leaning ideology that Asians are white adjacent — meaning we generally come from privilege. They live in a limousine liberal bubble and haven’t visited Chinatown tenements where entire families crowd into one-room apartment as adults work at factory and restaurant jobs.

For an employer, the stereotype of Asians as hard-working and well-mannered might serve that applicant well. The Asian applicant may fare better than the black applicant. That is regardless of where they both come from or where they live.
If an Asian person is driving a Ferrari, he’s less likely to be pulled over for fear that he stole the car. That applies no matter where he lived. Some wealthy person could run a social experiment for fun, and rent a Ferrari for a black and Asian person to drive around for an hour each. The experience each person has in the car will be different.
Privilege is not only about money. As a dark-skinned black person I have had people tell me that they’re surprised “I speak so well” or that I have a master’s degree. Yes, Asians may get the stereotype of not being good English speakers, but they are stereotyped as intelligent. I have been in many situations where I have to “prove” that to combat someone’s ingrained idea of what a black person is supposed to be.
There are some valid points made by the author, such as:
Asians are being pitted against Black and brown people by conservative and liberal activists. Instead of forcing minority groups to fight for scraps, policy makers and educators alike should focus on the bigger problems in college admissions — too many mediocre students, themselves adjacent of privilege, are regularly admitted at America’s elite colleges. They are the children of alumni, the children of faculty and recruited athletes.
I don’t know if I agree with liberals pitting them against brown and black people. Asian students definitely helped to start the anti- AA charge. However, I agree that the focus should be on policy makers. Legacy kids are a real issue for meritocracy.
Again, the mention of athletes comes across as anti-black, since a lot of sports college funding comes from sports such as football and basketball. So do we also want to target the same type of “working-class” kids you went to school with, who are trying to better themselves with the tools they have?
Again, you can blame the system for that. Do you think unis want to lose out on the money they generate from sports?