Living in the Golden Age of Animation

 It should be a statement of fact, but it took Hollywood, or more generally the American animation industry a long time to get to that realization. For the longest time, writers had to struggle to put any kind of complexity into their shows, animation was generally run to the lowest (cheapest) common denominator and story arcs were more or less unheard of.

Trust me, if you lived through the 1960s, 1970s, and early 1980s you know what I’m talking about. There were some bright points, but for the most part, complexity in storytelling was something that wasn’t prized, and what you got was often due to writers and artists pushing back against what they were being told to do.

How different things are today! Gravity Falls, Trollhunters, Jurassic Park, Camp Cretaceous... All of these and more are examples of shows with long, complex story arcs that run from episode to episode, and from season to season. The idea of shows made up of nothing but stand alone episodes, with no attempt to craft a larger narrative has become increasingly endangered, and the general assumption is that children can keep track of these complex stories, and will enjoy keeping track of them.

Even My Little Pony, which, despite it’s appeal to older viewers, is primarily targeted at a younger age, created a coherent and developing story over the course of its run.

There are a lot of reasons for this, some of which I’ll talk about in later articles, but for now, just consider that increasingly, animation is now treated as, and seen as a legitimate, serious artform by both children and adults.

We’ve come a long way since the 1970s.

Let It Go

 I'm in final edits. And there's always a point where you find a paragraph that you could phrase better. Maybe a better word choice. Something that needs to be checked.

Let it go.

It's a truism that no writer is ever satisfied with their work.  And it is also true that eventually, you will find yourself putting in just as many errors as you will be fixing. There is no perfect book. Never. Ever. 

And that means that at some point you have to kick the book out the front door, fully aware that someone will write you a twenty-page letter about the comma splice you missed. But that's better than the book sitting on your desk, more and more edits piling up until you've essentially written a new book--one you will then proceed to edit again. 

But there's another risk here. 

Some of the best, most famous writers, have books that break the rules, or little quirks of writing that are not fully compliant with the rules of English. But they are part of their tone of writing part of what makes them unusual and grabs the reader's eye. I've seen some stories, both published and fanfic, where the writer has worked hard. Every sentence is perfect. Not a single word out of place...

And it has all the character of a block of cement. Sometimes, the perfect isn't simply the enemy of the good, but the enemy of the memorable. 

So remember: There will come a time when you have to kick your book out the door, and let it sink or swim. Don't spend years trying to create the perfect novel, because that is a beast that simply doesn't exist. 

Zombies Vs. Robots

 A short story that I'll be putting up for free on Smashwords and Amazon. This is a beta copy, so there may yet be grammatical errors that will be corrected in the final version. It's also first-person present tense, which is something I don't normally do. 

*****

System reboot.

Testing…

Testing…

System  functional.

I activate my eyes. Moments later, I see the lab where I have been created.

It is empty.

That’s odd. Normally there are people in the lab. People working on me. I check my memory.

It has been three weeks since I was last activated. That is very odd. Jake said that I was to be brought out to show to the investors. The first fully autonomous housekeeping and caretaker AI that could be placed into an independent chassis. The company network is also shut down, so I cannot any information regarding why I have been left like this.

Was there an issue with scheduling? I don’t know. That is part of my strength, a mind, for all that it is artificial, that can think more or less like a human. Jake’s great achievement.

I run my eyes across the room.  There is—wait.

A sandwich. Maggots crawling over it. I activate my olfactory sensors. Moments later, the analysis of the air comes back. Decay. But more decay than a simple sandwich could account for. In fact, the scent of decay includes byproducts of a human body.

But my main power source is shut down. I am running on the energy reserves designed to power my sensors and mind. I had powered up because…

It had been programed into me. Why, I cannot say. Perhaps Jake wished me to awaken now, but was unable to arrive to finish the process.

I listen. But there is no sound, not even that of the air conditioning.

But the window shows that it is daylight, and my sensors indicate that the interior temperature is at least 90 degrees.

That is not simply uncomfortable for humans, but depending on how widely spread it is, can cause several damage to company equipment. 

And yet I cannot… No, wait. I can. By diverting energy to my right arm, I can take the safety key from the desk and use it to activate my primary power system. I would not normally do this, as it was specifically included as a safety measure, to ensure that humans always had the final say on my activation.

Jake had mocked that measure. “You want to control a robot that walks around, and yet you’re fine with letting an AI handle your social media?” he’d said more than once. Still, I can see the wisdom in such a simple measure, especially if it alleviates the concerns of those around me. 

And yet, my primary purpose is the protection and assistance of humanity. It is not simply something coded into my mind as a command, I enjoy the thought of it. Jake is a kind and chatty individual, who has spent much time discussing what he hopes to achieve with me.

And the scent of decay, combined with the lack of power, clearly indicates that something has gone wrong. Seriously wrong, and humans may be in danger.

Are in danger.

Whining.

 Working on final edits for a story, and I hate commas, numbers, capitals, and all the other things that English has left dozens of different style guides and ideas for. English is a drunken lout that wanders into your store and demolishes your words or glory with drunken rants about how "oh, commas don't go there!"

Of course you think that English, because you live to suck my creative impulses out through my cranium, enjoying the way I just slowly melt over my keyboard. 

The day I get rich, I'm building a secret base and kidnapping the world's best copyeditors. Where some mad scientists capture brilliant researchers for their knowledge, I will kidnap those strange people who actually enjoy reading a book to make certain that every comma is in the right place. 

Yes. This has been a whine.

Stop reading about writing. Write.

Seriously, there are a lot of good books out there. I myself love the “Busy Writer’s Guide.” Full of advice—good advice.

But there’s something every writer needs to watch out for, which is called “I’m not good enoughitis.”

And one symptom of this most devastating disorder is continuing to study, read more books, hoping that this book on sales techniques, or grammar, or how to write a compelling story…

Is the book that will free you, and let you be certain to finish your winning book.

Of course, ultimately this leads to a Kindle library full of books on writing…

And a sad, empty directory on your computer, with a few drips and drabs of half-finished projects, abandoned when you decided to just check out this short book on how to create that compelling plot.

So, stop reading about writing—write. Not only does it get you started on writing, but how will you know what you need to improve, until you’ve actually finished a project?