Getting Meta: Continuity

Okay so in the famous words of Kevin smith, "I just hit a bit of writers laze. Sometimes you don't want to create, you just want to be entertained." Fortunately or unfortunately for you I find myself pretty damn entertaining. Yes, I know I am a narcissist. So rather than write I am going to do the thing all hacks do, write about writing. In Getting Meta I plan to write about some of the behind the scenes concepts of story telling, starting with continuity.

What is Continuity
You hear the word thrown around a lot when criticizing any type of story be it movies, books or comic books, but what the heck is it?

In general continuity is the established facts within a work. In a nutshell, it's everything the audience can be expected to know and believe about a story. Think about it. You're watching your favorite show, but you're trying to describe how good it is to a friend who hasn't seen it. Most of what you say, with the exception of fan speculation, is probably going to fit in the story's continuity.

There was this plane. It crashed on a weird wacko island. There is this doctor dude, and this chick who killed a federal marshal.

Why is it important
Generally, if a story is good the audience feels invested in it's characters and events. The problem is anybody with a lick of sense is going to go, "Yeah but this crap isn't real. Why should I care?" The writers already know what's going to happen. None of the characters are actually doing anything to change what has already been written.



Sorry Fred but the ending to the episode's script was already written when those words came out of your mouth and I bet ol' Joss already had a plan on how the entire season was going down.

The point is on some level people have to forget that what they're watching is fiction and just go with it. It goes a long way towards that goal if people don't have to stop every five minutes and go, "but according to the stuff I know, that could or couldn't happen in this universe."

Think of continuity as a big old giant dam. Now every time the writers accidentally or on purpose contradict continuity they blow a great big old plot hole in that dam, and a little bit a water (suspension of disbelief ) goes with it. If you have a lot of holes or the holes are too big this happens.


It becomes impossible for people to forget that the work is fiction and the whole thing caves in on itself.

Also it makes the fan base feel groovy when previously established events and characters that were thought to be forgotten become relevent.

Internal Logic
Okay to further explain I'm going to break up the concept of continuity further starting with internal logic. Internal logic is basically how the audience expects the world to work.

You're watching what you think is an old timey gangster movie, then all of a sudden 45 minutes in you have giant freaking flies eating the protagonist's leg. Whaaaaa.

The problem with getting internal logic right is that the authors have to look at what the audience reasonably expects.

Typically the audience expects the world to work the same way ours does or did unless the author flat out says it doesn't in some way, and even then the audience is going to think it only differs in the specific ways the author has suggested or flat out told the audience it does.

Think about it. You take a lot for granted about how our world works. Gravity, Newton's third law, the existence of certain countries. Unless the author tells you otherwise you are going to bring those assumptions with you right into the story.

And again once the author says, "Hey my world has magic that makes time travel possible," you expect everything in that world to behave as the author explained it. Why didn't they just use the stupid time turner J.K.? Why?


Character Continuity
I could go on a two year rant about this guy.


Mohinder was the character I most related to in Heroes. In a way I saw him as an older version of myself. He was compassionate, and curious, but he was also skeptical and rational. Then he did something that made my face contort in rage. He injected himself with an untested drug, which started turning him into the fly. This was the Mohinder who wouldn't chance 5 minutes of wasted time to check out whether or not what future Hiro told Peter checked out.

Part of what the audience starts to think they know about the fictional world are the basic personality traits of its characters. If a tagline for the next superman movie was "Superman will destroy us all," Fans would almost immediately start coming up with theories. Mind control. Nahh. Evil Clone. Nahh. Alternate Universe Kal-El. Nahh. Mitigating circumstances. Point is, nobody is going to just go with the idea that Boy Scout Kent got pissed off and decided to go on a rampage through downtown Metropolis to blow off steam. It's "out of character".

Historical Continuity
Put simply this is keeping the story straight. Events happened and they shouldn't be able to unhappen because the writer changed their mind where they wanted to go. It's mostly a problem in serial fiction where the story is released in increments and the writer got an idea they didn't consider earlier in the story. In order to make new ideas work writers will ignore or change things like what characters where doing or where they were. Don't! The audience will catch that shit. I love me some Titan A.E. But there is this chicken egg thing going on with the Drej and the Titan. The beginning says the Drej blew up the Earth because we were building the Titan. Korso says we built the Titan because we knew the Drej were going to blow up Earth. It can't be both. But I love that movie so I'll forgive it.

I just finished my resume/work sample site.

Name on the tin. I just finished my resume and work sample site. Here it is.

https://www.msu.edu/~milesgre/index.html

We are not idiots!

I just got NetFlix. It has tons of TV shows including Law and Order SVU. I used to like the show but watching around 10 episodes back to back I'm realizing something.

The writers think young people are stupid!

I'm tired of watching episodes where young people are made to look sympathetic because they're too stupid to realize what they did was wrong. If a twelve year old knows what sex is, he should know forcing someone to have sex is wrong. If a psychologist tells a 15 year old to take meds she should be smart enough to take them.

Maybe I was weird when I was a bit younger but I and 75% of my peers had some god damn sense. I'll admit young folks can be a bit impulsive and maybe a bit selfish but on the major stuff like murder and rape we know the difference between right and wrong.

The one thing that keeps ratling off in my head about the diffence between my genration and previous one is that we are skeptics. We don't believe anything unless we get at least 20 google hits from respectable sources confirming it. We call bull shit on almost everything. We have to. One of the things we had to figure out real ricky tick was figuring out when through ignorance or malice some form of media was being less than truthful. One of the first rules of life we learn is never take any piece of information for granted.

In short we are the, "pics or it didn't happen" generation.

My folks always tell me that sooner or later I have to trust what people say. Heck no. within minutes I can find out the truth, and whats more I know it. Its bad time in history to be a liar.

The point is we are not so easy to influence. We know that half of our heroes are made of bull and can say what they say and do what they do because they are rich and famous. Their world isn't ours.

We know that the other half of our heroes are stuck in their ways and are blinded by their own arrogance to see maybe that they don't know everything about everything.

The Prince's Journey

A young warrior prince, and his army returned to his father's citadel after long campaign. While the retreating journey to return through the desert was harrowing, even more so was the battle leading to the retreat. Though his mind does not know why, his heart senses something of the battle does not sit right.

Before entering the fortress' keep he enters the hollowed out boulder the fortress' blacksmith has made his home to ask if he could repair his spear. He commands the men to return to his father and tell him of the campaign's outcome.

The smith's nature is laconic so it has become the princes habit to do the talking for both of them while blades are being forged and repaired. On this day his words turn to the battle. The blacksmith who has never spoken more than ten words to the prince in his score of years chooses now to speak two.

"Show me"

The blacksmith pores water onto the hot coals creating a thick miasma that surrounds the two. The prince senses a cut on his right shoulder but can not see from where it came. Grabbing a freshly forged scimitar he yells for his guard, but realizes he is too far off to be heard.

The princes calms himself and waits. He hears the steps of the smith and strikes for his leg. Before the sword meets flesh the blacksmith calls out to him and says. " I meant no harm but I think I know something of this enemy you faced."

I need to start working on older stuff, but... yeah here is another idea I want to put it here before I forget it because it was a dream. Also, in the dream the prince originally was one of Mozenrath's from Aladdin's generals.


Mozenrath by *ChemicalAlia on deviantART


I will save it for something else later.

P.S. I always thought Moze had good menace. I like that in a villain. Also in these types of stories I always related to the blacksmith character I'll get on that more in another post.

Origin story for a new Idea though I probably should work on the old ones

The Map of Ages

They say there lives or lived a being, perhaps a god who lived outside of space and time who observed simultaneously all that is, was and will be. In this god's solitude he feared madness would overtake him so while still sane he began to record all that he had seen. Think of the possibilities of such a record, a true and complete history and prophesy. Knowledge of what happened a hundred years ago and what will happen a hundred years hence, not just where one is born, not just on earth, but through the entirety of the universe. What could we mere small and tiny mortals, whose knowledge is fractured and incomplete gain from such a record? What would we give to read the mind of a god?

Blame Riverworld.
Somewhere down the line this will become expository dialogue.

As the world turns

Okay, currently being unemployed and out of school I have no excuse not to write. None at all. I'm sick so I don't want to lay boot to pavement quite yet and also I want to enjoy the next few days but life's turns outpace me. (Did that sound snooty, damn you Deadwood.) In two days my insurance runs out, so here's hoping I don't die anytime soon. Me and my folks are trying to fix it, but that's life. Part of me wants to write about that but ehh.

Mostly I want to get back to my stories and well this blog, and finding a job, and maybe freelancing a bit.

Christmas was nice.




P.S. I should have been a business major. I will talk on that later.

I look like the smarmiest bastard

So my next big project is to create a website to market myself with. A place to put writing samples from school and my internship,as well as my resume. My dad and I had previously argued about the picture of myself I was planning to use for stupid idiotic reasons, another rant for another time.






But the more I think about it the more I hate it. I think I look like the smarmiest bastard alive in a suit. Hell, I wouldn't trust me with 2 bucks to buy myself a sandwich. I've never felt comfortable in one and only wear them when I want to "make a good impression." But now I think about it I think that's part of the problem. I'm worrying too much about the impression and not about proving I can do the job. I think I would rather have a picture where I'm in my "getting shit done" clothes rather than my "if I do what I have to do to get shit done there goes $150" clothes .

It all comes down to professionalism. Professionalism isn't about looking snazzy. It's about coming to work, doing the job right, and getting better at doing the job right. I want to believe that most of the bosses in the world realize that, but I know they don't and I am going to have to play their games. Alright, smarmy looking bastard it is then.

Things to Remember aka stuff I can steal from myself later when I want to sound clever (Christmas Style)

There was a time where everything I possessed I owed to the generosity to others.

Getting old means changing who you are, but doesn't mean you cease to be who you were when you were young. Don't run from that small boy who made 20ft long paper garlands and paper snowflakes.


Alright Mr. Spock, stoicism and all is good, sometimes damn it show a bit of heart.


The Big Bang Addendum

If I were ever to time travel to the past the first place I will go will be on December 25, 2010 AD at 10: 09 pm.

What's Next

So I just graduated, and am sitting on a decent chunk of graduation change but the question stands what now. Way I figure it, if I sit on my ass I have enough money to last me at least 2 months, but neither me or my folks would stand for that. The hope is I could get a job in New York. The problem is I have no connections there and New York is damned expensive. Where the hell am I suppose to work? Where the hell am I suppose to live?

I still want it, but if I'm going to do this I need to do it smart. I figure that I would need to spend at least two weeks up there trying to find an apartment and a job. Almost like a vacation, but not. I would shack up in a hotel and hit pavement. If I didn't find anything that time I could come home save up and try it again another time.

I figure I would need living expenses for the two weeks in the hotel and maybe a the first month in the apartment. I figure that's probably a grand total of 5 to 8 grand. Right now I don't have near that much cash so it's time I got to work.

I am my sword

I am my sword. I shall sharpen my sword as I sharpen myself.
I am my shield. I shall forge my shield as I forge myself.
I am my armor. I shall protect my armor as my armor protects me.
The best steel comes from the hottest furnace.

The Broken Newsroom and Graduation

You know how I've been going on and on about how I've been busy lately. Part of the reason is that me and some friends of mine have been working on a website and mini-documentary for class. Here it is.

http://brokennewsroom.inmediaworks.com/index.html

Oh yeah and I just got out of my graduation ceremony, though I still have stuff to do for finals week.

War World (Draft 1 of Chapter 1)

“Kale I’m tired take the stick”

“You know Ariel, we could always just drift”

“What happens if we enter a debris field? You know the rocks out here go way too fast. We need someone to steer and keep this ship hole free.”

Ariel had known Kale since they were small. They had come up together on one of the many space stations rooming the galaxy. They had grown up at the port of the Aries watching the traders, scouts and salvagers come and go. There wasn’t much on the station itself and so the port was busy.

The scouts would bring news, mostly of what was around them They would be the first to know if another station was approaching or some moon or planet had something salvageable. The scouts would then sell that information to salvagers. Salvaging was a dangerous job. The information the scouts would give was almost never complete. Scouts seldom went planet side preferring to just point the way. Salvagers did the real work of exploring planets and telling who ever was in charge of the stations if it was worth sending an expedition, it was the salvagers who would take samples. Ariel and Kale were salvagers.

“Alright, Alright I’ll steer who knows maybe I’ll be known as the guy who was flying the ship that found Eden”

“Shut up and just steer. Eden my ass.”

“What’s that yellow dot, maybe I can get out of my night of duty”

“The sensors say there’s quite a bit of sulfur in atmo but for a quick nights rest with the suits we should be okay. Alright take her down”

As the two lower the rust bucket a silent explosion shakes the ship. Both turn their heads and realize that air is escaping through a giant hole in the hull. Both also realize that the controls are shot.

“Fuck, Fuck I don’t want to steer tonight you say. What’s that yellow dot you say”

“Just grab the emergency packs. We’re close enough to the surface so that we can use the chutes”

They jump, leaving home. The only place they had.
As Kale falls he realizes that he is not slowing down as quickly as he should. The cloth parachute is being eaten by chemicals in the air. He and Ariel hit the ground harder than they have ever from any airdrop.

Rubbing a bruised shoulder Ariel says, “So what do we do now without a ship or a way back to Canaan.”

“I’m thinking. We don’t know where we are. We don’t have much equipment and to top things off we know for a fact that this place is toxic if we stay here too long.”

Just then a red light shone from the horizon. The brief light in the night revealed an oddity about the earth Kale and Ariel were standing on.

As Ariel knelt she said, “Hey I can see myself in the ground.”
“Huh”

“It’s glass. The ground is glass.”
Kale knelt and rubbed his hand on the ground. “Fuck your right. We got to get out of this place.”

Another explosion went of and the two decided to walk towards it. Even if it was dangerous there was the possibility that people would be there. Maybe someone who could answer questions or even better help them get off this rock.

They walk for hours towards the flashing lights and booming noise, until finally from a ridge they see it more clearly. War. Violence but in the chaos they could not make out an army. It was just destruction. Then finally they realized that the warriors were not men but machines. Large slow ones with cannons on their backs fired into the field of glass which was now a field jagged with holes filled with sand. . Faster ones with smaller guns on their backs rocketed through the simultaneously shooing and bludgeoning anything near them.

Despite all of this violence not every machine was blasting what it could. There were smaller ones who while being ignored by the larger ones were picking up debris and cleaning the battlefield. They would determine if broken machines were still functional and if not would dismantle, store and transport what could be salvaged.

Ariel and Kale stood and watched as bombs and guns ripped holes into metal, could they even be called bodies? Most looked nothing like humans or even animals. They were machines.

“So where do we go from here,” Ariel said
“What?” said Kale as an explosion went off a half a mile from his ear.
“What’s the plan? I mean we decided to go towards the battle in hope of finding people but it looks like there are just machines down there”
Kale looked hard at the field. Thinking, he noticed something. “Every so often one of the smaller ones gets full and heads off somewhere. I guess we could follow

Robin the Hood (Draft 1 of Chapter 1)

It’s a day that makes any man think. Malik Locksley was soon to be a father. He had sworn to himself he would only marry after e had made something of himself. And through hard work

He had grown up in the eastern slum of the city. For most of his life he had no hope. He still did not know how he had done it. He scrapped and saved and begged. Then the banked loaned him the money, he needed to start the store. It was dangerous to keep it open but people need a place to buy the goods they needed. Too many good grocers had left the city. He stayed and the people thanked him with their business. Sure the young ones thought him an easy mark, but he knew everyone within five miles of that store, and when someone stole from him he would call one of the theifs relations, one they dared not cross. A mother, a father, an aunt. Malik was not rich, but he had enough to know his younger days of struggle were behind him.

People respected the man. He was generous rather than greedy, knowing how much luck played in his rise as work. He did not mind people owing him, even if it wsa not for the store. Most knew him as a man they could come to if they needed help paying a bill or feeding a child.

That is how he met is wife Sharri. Sharri’s sister was a single mother and Sharri asked him for help. At the time she was trying to become a teacher. They both talked about politics, and how things in the city needed to change. The ones with money stloe from the ones with the least of it to lose, and those just struggled on.

They saw themselves of like mind and became partners in everyway. Now she was giving birth to their first child.

“Have you thought of a name” The doctor asked.
They had not known if the child would be a boy or a girls so they both agreed on the name Robin.

“Robin Locksley” They said in unison



.

“Again.” Millerson thought “Every weekend. Why am I still friends with this guy. Miller was seventeen but looked thirteen. If that were not enough to get him picked on he was also a nerd. There was a time in his life when he denied that fact, but each attempt to be cool was more laughable than the last. Eventually he gave up and just ran with it. That’s when the beatings started, Every god damned day he would be tripped or punched, or stolen from. There was only one kid who had the decency to stand up for and that was Robin.

It was not a rock solid friendship though. The two were as different from each other as a stone is from a feather. Every weekend Robin would find some party or concert to go to and would drag Millerson with him. Things would be fine for a while the two would joke but before long a pretty girl would come along and Robin would follow her. Miller who would much rather be at home watching the latest stargate, would be left twiddling his thumbs.
“Hey Millerson” It was Marry.

“He does it every gd time.”

“Yeah I’m sorry for the time it was me.”

“Not your fault, its just I know it's going to happen so why do I keep letting him talk me into being a third wheel.”

“Mind if I keep you company”

“Better than drinking twenty cokes by my self. I know this pisses you off too.”

“ What d you mean”

“Its obvious to everyone you still like him”

“Everyone but him you mean. Eh Forget it.”

“You’re right it’s none of my business. So while MR. Mac Daddy over there gets his game going’ what are you going to do.”

“I was going to go home and get some sleep there’s a track meet in the morning. There is going to be some Canadian team from across the river there.”

“Good luck and kick there ass for me.”

“Will do see you round.”

Me Attempting to break my God Damn writer's block.

It's all cyclical isn't it. For weeks I've felt out of it because I haven't had the time to write something to my liking and now that I have a spare moment or two my mind is blank. As I think on the matter I realize that this is not the first time it has happened. It always takes me months to get back on the creative streak I found my self in previously, but I don't have months. If I want this grand digital experiment to continue I need to find some damn thing to write about- the election eh I already gave my thoughts on that damn thing, school - what's to say. I wake up go to class work on some group stuff, work on some projects. That's my life. Politics, the truth of the matter is that the current scene is in a state of flux and I want to give this new congress a chance to fuck up before I rip them a part. Or a little more honestly, I currently have no political opinions I feel strongly enough about to write on. The twenty-third anniversary of my birth. I feel old but I felt that way before Thursday. Nope.

In short. I am in a good mood. Damn, it's hard to write when I'm not pissed. I could get back to writing Seven Ladies, Orientation, Game, or Robin the Hood, War World, Reflections or a half-dozen other stories, but I don't remember where I wanted take them at the moment and it would take too long at to recollect my thoughts on those. Maybe if I had a week with nothing to do but sit on my ass but now I've got about an hour. By the time I figured out what I wanted to write on those again it would be time for my life to speed up again.

I got nothin'.

I could write on health care, but there is that time issue. Maybe a thesis on why Terry Goodkind's opinions on the issues of the death penalty, affirmative action, and economic regulation are wrong, if not crazy. Maybe later

Should I get personal?

I find myself in a moral dilemma I haven't been writing "me stuff" for a while because I've been busy but my mind keeps wandering to it. A while ago I started writing my autobiography, but then over the summer someone close to me died. I feel as though if I leave that part of my story out of the tale it does a disservice to her death by saying it was not important. At the same time my story is not only my story. If I tell it truthfully it would show those close to me in a moment of weakness, furthermore if I wrote the story and I liked how it turned out it would seem to me as almost profiting from her death. If I write about it honestly it could help others who have suffered feel as though they are not alone. Right now it doesn't matter all my personal writing is on hold anyway and even if it were not I am writing my autobiography in roughly chronological order so I have a long way until I get to that part of it.