Eric Staggs: Writer

As a writer, you hate to bash another writer’s work. You always want to try to find something positive to say about it. In college, when doing peer readings, hyper-critical as I am, I found myself not saying much. One of my favorite professors said “You’ve a great integrity about you when comment…”

I think she meant that I didn’t just spout off for a grade like the other students. The truth was, I seldom had anything good to say.

Tim Waggoner’s Thieves of Blood: Blade of the Flame read’s like an introductory page from a Dungeons and Dragon’s Gaming book. The exposition nearly bowls a person over, and the character archetypes offer nothing new to readers.

That said, if this book is classed as young adult fiction, or used as the marketing piece it was obviously intended to be, it’s a total success. Those not familiar with the Eberron campaign setting will find the book enlightening. Another refreshing aspect of Waggoner’s approach is his general lack of an “origins” story. He simply starts in with two pre-existing characters and allows their histories, though somewhat two-dimensional they may be, to unfold naturally for the reader.

Another thing the writer’s done here, which I appreciate greatly, is create a literary adventure, a time filler for young adults, that needs neither electricity or software.

B+

Ever have one of those days where no matter how hard you try you can’t think of anything to write? In college, the professors would always warn us “Don’t write the writer’s block story… it’s been done to death.”

I’m sure it has. “Never write the solo person in one room. Nothing happens.” There’s some sense in the advice too – unless of course you’re me. Right now, my office is three stories above my library. Which is now conveniently referred to as Archives.

The room I currently occupy, much like the T.A.R.D.I.S., has the ability to transport me, my trusty laptop (named Hera – she runs Vista, what can I say) and any additional accoutrements I may need to wherever I see fit. Currently, we’re planning a trip past the pleasure planet Teytruis. I’ll leave the sordid details of my stop to your imagination.

Then, I think we’ll swing around towards the galaxy. I want to see this “Super Massive Black hole” for myself.

I read “Death by Black hole” by Neil DeGrasse Tyson (an excellent read, by the by) about a year ago, and since then, I’ve been chomping to get see this thing close up (relatively speaking).

Any another thing, since at the point of singularity, all laws of physics break down and we can’t really see past the event horizon in a black hole (because you know, it’s a black hole), that means the singularity could look like anything.

I vote for dinosaurs.

Only a fool, a masochist (and perhaps certain flavors of sadist) shops in stores during the holidays. The madness, the chaos, it’s reminiscent of the birth of the universe: darkness then suddenly brilliant sights and sounds, a million million ideas, colors, worlds, and angry old ladies trying to get the last American Girl doll for little Suzy.

Today at Border’s, as my inner masochist took over, I stood in line watching a creepy old man lean over the counter, asking the little girl if he could use his coupon, even though he didn’t have it with him.

To most mortals, the answer would have been no. Simply put, the coupon is a prerequisite of the discount. But this old man, beer bellied and righteous, his salt and pepper beard, oddly straight comb-over and weathered shoes thought it possible that his mere presence would be enough to command a discount.

The poor little girl behind the counter didn’t know what to do. To her, it was obvious: physical coupon is a prerequisite of monetary discount. That’s why they are called coupons. Else we might all wander through the retail world, demanding that store owners lower their prices. Not a bad idea – I think it was called haggling back in the day and though you can haggle with the IRS, Cable Company and Hospitals, you cannot haggle with McDonald’s, Gamestop or Macy’s. Isn’t that odd?

Anyway, the resolution to this unfolding Border’s Bookstore drama was simple: Say NO or say YES. The little girl, new to the position (obviously hired holiday help) could barely work the register, let alone offer solid advice on the store policy regarding the presence of non-presence of emailed coupons to Border’s Rewards members.

In her situation, thinking some money is better than no money, I would have given the old codger his discount, sent him away happy, and got the line moving again. From her point of view, she wanted to do the right thing, so she called the manager. Who was busy.

You can all guess how the rest of this played out in lengthy detail. When I finally made my purchase, I presented said coupon (understanding that coupon is a prerequisite of discount), followed by my Border’s Rewards card, and then my credit card. One, two, three. I for lack of a better term, am a well prepared consumer.

So well prepared in fact, that I refuse to do shopping for anyone in the month of December. Everything, and I mean everything, can be done online.

Gift Ideas
Often we’re at a loss for what to purchase someone. Parents and grandparents are especially difficult to buy for. They tend to have everything they need. So, we wander into a store, hoping we’ll see some odd product that we could never have thought of otherwise. But, a simple Google check will provide the same thing. In fact, the Google for gifts is better, because hundreds, if not thousands of merchants are jockeying for your business. Specialized sites for just about any person you could be buying for exist, with links to products, gadgets, books, t-shirts, key chains (I bought myself a Robotech keychain just the other day) and all manner of items, junkwise or other.

Gift-wrapping
Men! Pay special attention here. Most sites will gift wrap things for you. Holy hamburgers in a blender! What more could you ask for? It’s worth the two bucks. Trust me.

Delivery
If you’re reading this and thinking “Yeah, I’ll have it all delivered and wrapped and my Christmas shopping is taken care of…” you’re about two weeks to late. As with all things, order early. Now you’ll be paying a premium to get your gifts on time. If they even arrive. As I once said to a disgruntled women trying to order “American Girl” dolls for her granddaughter “Little Suzy’s birthday happens the same time every year. You can’t order the day before and expect it to arrive on time. You’ll have to explain to her why her gifts are late.”

The Short List
The best places to shop online are listed below, and by the seventh of December, you might even be able to still get things delivered.

1. Amazon.com
Perhaps the finest and most powerful online shopping experience known to man, Amazon has everything. Videogames, cookware, books, DVDs, I’ve heard rumors you can even get Russian Brides somewhere, in the deep links.

2. Serenityhealth.com
These fine folks have been in business for years, specializing in healthy, relaxation gifts. Their products are almost as wide and varied as Amazon’s, except with a more “you-centric” focus. Water fountains, designer candles, quality bean bags, wind chimes, hammocks, the list literally, goes on and on. The added bonus is these folks will fill your order the same day and do their best to make the holiday for you.

3. Walgreens.com
Without compare, this website has everything. From valium (sorry you need a script to order the good stuff) to the irascible Snuggie, Walgreens has everything. They’ve even got “adult products” available on their website. And really, who doesn’t want a Chia-Obama or Slap-Chop as seen on TV?

…Or the Delicate Art of the Human Spectacle

Back in the primordial mist of self-indulgent web-publishing, blogs were a sort of anonymous, online journal, where someone could write their terrible secrets, post their gruesome thoughts, rant about their hatreds, gush about their crushes, wax vitriolic about their employers, politicians and auto-mechanics.

Somewhere along the way, a very clever person (we have no proof they were really a person – it might have been a pixie, nixie, sprite, faerie, gremlin, goblin, bugbear or imp) figured out that Google rates web-sites on content, relevance and authority.

Then, as if over night, blogging became big business, professional whiners (of which I occasionally classify myself) burst onto the scene, and became experts.

While it’s true, my fifty-plus credits in story, plot, characterization, pacing, method and writing craft, screenwriting and all the rest of it may make me more of an authority than the Fat-beard at the Comic Shop whose most insightful criticism is akin to “Best  Van Damme film ever.” I’m no more an expert than the next guy.*

As I peruse the blogosphere (which the Micro$oft dictionary considers a word apparently) I’m finding thousands of experts, all shouting their opinions on film, politics, literature, poetry, religion, tacos.

This isn’t what blogs are about. Blogs should be about fun – reading some else’s dirty laundry, the voyeuristic rush of peeking into the lives of others, what I call the “Delicate Art of the Human Spectacle.”

No sane person hits up a blog to learn how to re-wire their home! Or how to fix the plumbing from their septic tank to the new guest toilet! Imagine, some greasy handed plumber, sitting down with his morning Chai tea and powering up his Mac Awesomebook and composing a step by step instructional blog for his website (cleverly titled something like Betweenthecrack.com) on how to install proper piping for your pooper. He might order a bagel with lox (gag) while his fat, sausage-like fingers hammer away, struggling to hit the proper keys,  wondering when to use Ergo, Id Est and Exempli Gratia in his rather terse prose.

Yeah. Right.

Not only would said plumber be putting himself out of business by sharing his hard earned knowledge and trade secrets with his eager readers,  but typically, plumbers tend not to be literati.**

I say let’s bring back the spectacle. let’s get some of that Gutspill.com, visceral, reality-show, blogging going on. Let’s hear about your vicious aunt or your drunk cousin, or your mother-in-law who just knows you’re a bad mom… come on folks the holidays are the most psychologically trying times our culture has manufactures. Let’s see some spectacle…

*Okay, that’s not entirely true, I went college to become an expert on those things, but I think my point is valid.

**Obviously, this is a generalization not meant to offend any intelligentsia plumbers who might be reading.

***Second post with Micro$oft Writer, I’m not possessed nor indentured, yet.

I think like any savvy computer user, I’m hesitant to install anything on my computer that comes from Micro$oft. I began my career as we a web designer cursing and swearing at the cheap employers who insisted we use Frontpage because it was “already installed.”

That attitude is/was such a violation of logic and free enterprise and healthy competition and everything else the internet promised or stood for, it was enough to drive designers and developers mad. Not to mention the browser wars and the vicious disinformation campaigns against non-Micro$oft products.

When I worked in advertising, one of our main clients used a bubble-gum and prayer NT system for their multi-million dollar e-commerce rig. They measured up time (on their test environment) in hours. Our duplicate test environment measured up time in months – the only difference being that ours was a Unix server.

But enough about this wretched history of Micro$oft. I’m talking about their wretched future. This new Blogging app, Writer,  hasn’t crashed yet. But upon clicking that fateful download button, my VIAO lurched into a wild seizure of downloads and installs, updates and god knows what else. When the dust settled, I was being asked to set up a Windows Live profile – something I didn’t want to do, didn’t set out to do.

But credit where do, Writer is still so far, a pretty nifty little app. It’s not much different than any other bloggers apps, except that you get the added comfort of knowing it’s a quality Micro$oft product riding wild through your trusty computer’s electrons.

post-script -

Write in Writer, send it up to my website, my LiveJournal and to a few other selected blog outlets as well. Is this a good thing? Probably not, but we all love convenience.

Every time I hear the term, I can’t help but think of the plague. And I suppose it is in way, some sickness that bursts up from our deep psyche every year, like a zombie, able to only utter the phrase “Must shop!”

I picture hundreds of mothers, their kids in tow, already crying and screaming, cold and uncomfortable, standing outside a Mall or whatever store they decide to start with, shifting from leg to leg, their breath coming out in rapid, ragged puffs of white. The crowd thickens and the sound increases to a near deafening roar, until finally, a clock somewhere show’s oh-seven-hundred and the flood gates open. Chaos reigns as men, women and children vie for discounted goods, the last of this or that, the prestige of being home early with all Christmas shopping done, in one fell swoop.

Personally, I would have thought the internet would have put an end to all that. For me, it did. I’m pretty sure it can for you as well.

Anyway, every year, I write about a post about the best gifts to get for writers, who are, by far, the most troublesome and difficult group to buy gifts for. I see no reason to change the pattern quite yet.

So without further delay, here are this year’s top five gifts for writers:

1. Gift Cards
I know, it feels like a cop-out. But the simple fact is that music, movies, video games, even larger ticker electronics are so intensely personal, that the recipient will appreciate the insight that brought you to this choice.

2. Reference Books
As always, an excellent collection of desktop reference books makes the list. In addition to a Dictionary of Theories and a Medical Dictionary/Anatomy guide, let’s add a Dictionary of Astronomy (good every year, since science keeps updating itself, and we wouldn’t want to seem left behind) and a World Mythology Reference.

3. Livescribe  Pulse Smartpen
This particular technological gadget has been on my radar for some time. Essentially it’s a pen that allows direct download of whatever you’ve written or recorded aurally. Pretty nifty huh? It almost completely replaces the need for the writer’s handy notebook. There are two draw backs however – it requires special paper (yes, the technology isn’t that good yet), which comes in many forms, but makes you beholden to LiveScribe for refills, essentially, forever. The second draw back might be an imagined one – but I see a man standing up in a board room, saying “Hold on everyone, my Smartpen just ran out of battery.”

4. Magazine Subscriptions
Artistic types, especially writers, require continuous input, stimulation of the senses to jar ideas, to get the juices flowing. Magazines are perfect for this. Not just publishing industry magazines, but many others – design, photography, fashion, economics, science. These are monthly blasts of ideas and concepts delivered right to the writer’s doorstep!

5. Desk “Gear”
Desk gear includes everything from the desk itself to storage shelves or a new chair. Of course, I’d recommend asking before replacing your writer’s beloved chair with a new one, but there are about a dozen other desk top appliances and accoutrements that can be given to the writer who supposedly has it all. This is also an excellent opportunity to delve into the personal preferences of your giftee. Candles, desktop water fountains and other relaxation items are good choices. Take snoop around your writer’s desk and see what’s missing, what’s old. Are they still using a wired-ball mouse? Go get them a wireless optical mouse! 

Take some of the hassle out of holiday shopping this year. At least for one person on your list, you’ve got it covered. 

So I’ve recently gotten back into gaming. You know, gaming on the table top, without electronics, software and all the technological accoutrements that seem to be part and parcel of the scene these days.

Most gamers are tried and true D&D nerds, or at least, that’s where they cut their teeth. Back in my day it was Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, 2^nd Edition. There was one PHB, one DMG, a whole bucket of dice and the good times just kept on coming. But now, as I sit with my group, in a much larger basement, complete with mini-fridge (and the obligatory beer inside it), a full size white-board table to allow illustrations and diagrams, miniatures and more, I can’t help but feel as if some of the imagination has gone out of my favorite hobby.

The game has evolved, of this there can be no doubt. But then, did it need to? I had the honor of interviewing Gary Gygax way back in ’99, and he was, summarily excited about the new 3^rd edition rules. I for one, found them mild and easily acceptable. Quick to learn, quick to run, most things were still covered, those that weren’t we just made up. But, as I started in on a career of corporate insanity, I found I had less and less time to slay dragons in my buddies’ basements.

The 3.5 rules were released and some I remember over a martini somewhere in Colorado, a friend telling me that Vin Diesel contributed to the book. He was apparently an avid gamer. Nothing against Vin, in fact, I like the guy, but renaissance dressing, costume-sword swinging wannabe Kensal (look it up) are a dime a dozen. Unless he made the game that much more spectacular, I didn’t really give a rip.

So, years pass, I’m on a quest of my own making and not paying much attention to the state of D&D. I haunt bookstores like revenants wander ancient battle fields, and one day I came across a book entitles Dungeons and Dragons 4^th Edition. Whoa, says I.

I paged through it and wanted to do my part for the flailing economy; I plunked down my 30-kuatlos and went to home to read what had become of my beloved childhood hobby. In the mean, I was making old connections and becoming involved in a regular game of D&D 3.5 (which, until that point I’d never played).

The changes to the game were subtle at first, then as I delved deeper, watched this group of players who honed their tactics like a football team with an abusive coach, I realize that this isn’t even the same game. Sure, we rolls some dice and name our characters, but these days the game is more like a protracted version of Chess (yawn) with movement, action measurement and ranges all being constantly calculated and recalculated. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good war game, but I can’t help but comment on how vastly different 2^nd Ed. Was from 3.5, let alone 4^th Ed.

My research led me back to Dragon Magazine a staple of nerdom, usually filled with rehashed advice, bad puns and product release dates. Turns out, the magazine is no longer even being published. It’s all online. And therein lays the crux of the issue.

If I wanted to sit on a computer while I killed dragons, I’d play WoW. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I remember a day when the Gamer was a hunted being, hiding his hobby deep within a backpack of holding, nestled between a bible and a math book, in a vain effort to stave off the rampaging paranoid mothers whose fear of devil worship was only rivaled by their misanthropic relationship with their husbands.

So, did Vin Diesel add all the rules and ranges, not realizing that the chapter on Encumbrance was the one that no one ever read? Or did he popularize the Forbidden hobby so that gamers (though weak of spirit they may be) can show their faces without having their braces mangled?

Either way, I’ve got a 6^th level wizard who is in desperate need of some Vecna-esque artifacts to deal with in less than six hours…

I think we all understand that a zombie apocalypse is eminent, and further, that hilarity will ensue once the undead have dominated the shopping malls and golf courses of America. The film Zombie land takes us one step further, bringing that hilarity home with precise one-liners and editing gags that, while somewhat predictable elicit more than the occassional chuckle from audiences.

I’ll freely admit, every since film school, I’ve been obsessed with zombie films. I wrote a research paper on 28 Days Later (the first and perhaps the finest of what I call the Zombie Ressurection) once, focusing on the odd and strangely counter intuitive aesthetics of the film. The horror was driven home in 28 Days by concise thought, not sheer panic. This translates into a cinematic event where the usual tropes of zombiedom are no longer valid. The shambling brain eater gives way to the running ghoul not merely driven by the need to eat, but actual malice.

Anyway, Zombieland chronicles the adventures of four lone-wolves who form a pack and learn that life is better with people you care about, even if you’re surrounded by zombies. The heart-string tugging message of the film is mitigated (thankfully) by witty dialogue and brutal comedy and of course, an amusement park filled with zombies.

Woody Harrelson was born for his role as zombie executioner extraordinaire. The supporting cast, token zombie holocaust survival characters, fill their part perfectly. Not a second a celluloid is wasted on unnecessary sub-plots or half hearted character development. In all, a very right script and well played film; that is, fun.

It’s rough out there, this much is true. Between job-losses and the rising costs of everything, corruption and greed, the perpetual misunderstanding between dogs and cats, managers and employees, toxic waste and global warming, seat belts and improperly de-veined shrimp, it’s a wonder any of us have any marbles left to play with.  But, we continue to play. Sometimes we come out ahead in marbles, sometimes we come out behind. What’s one or two marbles, more or less, right?

But seriously, it’s badnews all around. I’m keeping track, and with todays job cut announcements, I counter 100,000 people since last Monday who’ve been axed.

Still, what’s a poet or writer to do in these harsh times? The paperworks all say that entertainment flourishes during a depression. Entertainment might be the only recession proof job. But how does that trickle down to us fiction writers? In an already stark market, rife with brutal competition and bleeding critique, how does one cut ahead from the pack?

I don’t know. You tell me. I’m still stuck in the pack, racing neck and neck with Joe Schmo, the alligator writer, and Findlekeen Morbosa, the chump down town who hacks out the film reviews for the local paper (who, incidentally, loves everything).

How does one get ahead in the most writerly of ways during one of the most unwriterly of crises?  Maybe this is a writerly crises. Maybe it’s just that desperation writers need to get and stay focused, rallying around the dim blue light of their computer screen, huddled close together for warmth, tip-tapping out line after line of improbable but very accurate real world experience, telling gruesome and vicious tales about corporate espionage, plots and misdeeds. Lurid tales about the indiscretion of their former employers while gambling, drinking, dancing girls, martinis, the bodies in the desert, the page marked plot point three upon which nothing is written, and of course the epic climax, the falling action, which heretofore and beyond the reach of memory and the times of recession, shall be known as Pormax Matrugen. In the future, teachers will say “Have you written your Pormax Matrugen yet?” Classes will be solely dedicated to the fine art of Pormax Matrugen.

But the art of Pormax Matrugen, is today just a fantasy. Today, in these harsh realms, we’ve got to focus on the here and the now. The fact that writers are scrizzled, no matter which way you slorg it.

Needless to say, my skepticism waned immediately upon arrival, and disappeared altogether by the second quarter. I won’t pretend to be an expert on the rules, but it breaks down something like this:

The fast skaters, called Jammers, have to lap the pack, without going out of bounds or falling or knocking anyone over. That scores some points. There are fouls, a penalty box and all the rest of it as well. The serve beer, pizza, pretzels, and have a full bar – as well as rum-laced smoothies. Yes, the promoter’s knew their audience well. My girlfriend said to me “This seems like a sport pervs would do to. You know, like all female mud wrestling.”

Pervs? Yes, I suppose, the prospect of fast moving women in tank tops and skirts with too much eye make-up and nick-names like Clara Path and Kaiser Suze could perhaps evoke an element of eroticism. Moreover, the reputation Roller Derby girls have for being foul mouthed and tough as nails does little to assuage the fears of those of us with more delicate sensibilities. But, then again, are they that different than male athletes, ranting and roaring about their prowess and supremacy?

In fact, there was something altogether missing from the pomp and pride that most athletic teams demonstrate when vying for whatever prize they deem worthy that week. There was very little trash talking, no confrontations with other players, and a startling lack of swearing. Yes, overall, it was a rather wholesome event. I was four beers into the event when we left, and loved every minute of it.

On my way out, I found myself saying “Man, we should start our own team! We could go all the way to nationals! We could write the sports movie – you know the underdog, ragtag (insert sport) team, brought together by a washed up loser, struggling to make a comeback/impress a girl/end his career on a high note/stay employed ‘til next season.”

My girl friend, bless her, just nodded her head. I went on, “Yeah, the Sports Movie goes alternative. Maybe we can have like, Tony Hawke’s wife be the coach, And he can do a cameo. But first we need to decide… is this Roller Derby meets Bad News Bears or Roller Derby meets Field of Dreams/Friday Night Lights?”

Yes, the future was indeed, wide open, as we left the arena parking lot, she driving and me rambling away, dreaming about a return to the day when sports movies numbered in the mere dozens instead of thousands. Dreaming of a day when something as formulaic as a sports movie didn’t stand a chance at an award…